Chapter 77: 64 - Archon
Mytheia...
Sure, I had secured everything I needed, including the ’programming’ key. But what truly shocked me wasn’t that—it was the fact that Arthur was the one who brought it here instead of delivering it to the IMA.
That was completely unexpected.
Helena smirked while Azalea looked puzzled.
Kairi, on the other hand, was still fast asleep.
What’s going to happen to me after this?
"Selene? I mean, Miss Veylith?"
"Oh, yes. What is it?" I replied, pretending not to hear him.
"You need to come with me."
What should I do? Should I wake her up?
Time’s running out. It’s ticking. And I might get interrogated like hell after this.
Worst-case scenario, I’ll be sold off and turned into a sex slave in some foreign country if I’m proven guilty.
Or the opposite—because I know exactly who that bastard Archon is. If Helena finds out, she won’t cry over being separated from him.
Arturo Machiavelli, former high-ranking mafia of the Etruria-Rassena Royal Syndicate, now rebranded as part of the Shakespeare family to erase his past dealings in contraband. I heard he didn’t hesitate to eliminate those who defied the kingdom’s laws.
More than that, he seduced rule-breaking women into sleeping with him.
Yes, without force. As if enchanted. They didn’t even realize they were being violated.
I don’t know what’s changed about him now as Arthur Shakespeare.
But Arturo—that bastard Arturo—was infamous for that.
"Helena, Azalea. I’ll be going now. Selene, please cooperate with us."
I nodded, exhaling lightly, praying that the worst-case scenario wouldn’t unfold.
Otherwise... what would happen to my dignity?
Arthur walked ahead, leading me into a dark room.
"You sure it’s here? Don’t try anything stupid," I said, eyes sharp.
"Relax, Selene... it won’t hurt a bit."
What... does that mean?
CTAS!
A firecracker-like sound jolted me, followed by a blow to my head.
Wait... that wasn’t magic? No? Then waht? Wait, what the hell—?
Without any chance to react, I stumbled and collapsed, catching a glimpse of his wicked grin. He had clearly planned something vile.
Moments later, my eyes fluttered open.
I was sitting on a wooden chair.
My hands were tied. So were my legs. I didn’t even have time to check the restraints properly. I glanced up at the ceiling—it looked disturbingly familiar.
The Artifact Storage Room?
How many times had I been here? Countless.
Arcanist Mages often handled inventory duties like this. Oh, you thought being an Arcanist Mage meant glamour and glory?
Not at all. My responsibilities here are immense.
Speaking of responsibility... right behind me, there’s a door reserved for the Forbidden Artifacts Section. The one I used to inspect as it’s under academy’s surveillance.
Is Mytheia currently stored behind there?
As I surveyed the room, all of a sudden chill crept over my skin.
Without hesitation, I then dared to look down and discovered that—
I was naked. Completely without clothes.
Then I noticed the giant circle drawn beneath me.
This...
The Circle of Inevitability?
"Surprised?"
That bastard’s voice snapped me toward him—he was grinning like a sadist.
"Oh, wow. I’m so surprised! Meh. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to."
"That’s so disappointing to hear," he said, walking slowly around the circle.
"Let me tell you something."
Ah, here we go again...
As always, it’s his rambling I hate most.
"As you can see, this is the Circle of Inevitability. To initiate the ritual of ’bliss,’ you need a ’pure’ body. You know what that means, right? Mal’as theology indoctrinates that. Don’t worry—I haven’t done anything to you... beautiful lady."
Of course you haven’t. Because both sinners and victims will feel the same empathetic feelings once one of them gets inside the circle, you bufoon.
This ritual doesn’t only affect demons—it works on every race.
Demons are merely the threshold, requiring massive energy and mastery to ignite.
But burning a half-elf like me? A snap of the fingers would do.
Think of it as a kingdom’s death sentence—only far more agonizing.
It burns your soul alive.
Yes, your soul. Not your body.
And on top of that, magic is useless once you’re inside the circle.
I scowled, glaring at him with such fury that my eyes could’ve killed.
"Oh... are you mad now? Good. Maybe you’ll begin understanding the consequences."
"Helena will kill you for this," I snapped, trying to buy time.
"Oh, her? A past I don’t need to mourn."
"Go die. Kill yourself," I said calmly—coldly, though fury boiled underneath.
"Hahahaha... go ahead, try me."
He raised his hand, chanting a spell under his breath.
Suddenly, something unseen slithered across my skin. No—not something.
A snake. I could hear it hiss as it wrapped around my paralyzed body.
"Ughhh..." An involuntary, shameful moan escaped me—one I wish I hadn’t made.
"Bastard. Scum." The curse burst from my lips without restraint. I would have killed him right there if it weren’t for the Aetherflow circuit that shackled me.
And he knew just how powerful I was—if I ever broke free.
"Keep going... curse me all you want, Selene."
"I will. And I’ll kill you myself."
"Oh? But don’t you think the International Magic Association might be interested in that?"
"You underestimate me, Arturo Machiavelli. Or Arthur Shakespeare. Whatever—you’re still filth from a family of snakes and politics."
He laughed. That signature villain laugh that echoed throughout the soundproofed room. No one outside would hear a thing.
"HAHAHAHAHA! That was hilarious."
If Kairi were in my place, she’d probably be trembling, masking her emotions under a veil of calm. But me?
I don’t need to pretend.
"Oh, is it that funny to hear that from a half-dead girl about to be raped by a scumbag?"
"Hey, relax. You’ve got it all wrong. I’m just doing my job. And you know that."
"Don’t pretend I haven’t seen the kinds of dirty tricks you use to manipulate people into compliance."
"Oh, really?"
"Of course. You’re using your snake venom, aren’t you?"
A venom so potent it leaves your tongue numb. Not many know that Arthur—or Arturo, whatever—doesn’t use magic to detect spellwork.
His actual magical ability is zero.
But he has another power.
He’s the Serpent Archon, or more accurately, Nachash—the most deceitful of all monster-kin overlords under the International Magic Association’s command.
And I was sitting in that smoke right now.
My hands twitched uselessly against the rope. The burn around my wrist told me they had used enchanted cords, tight enough to leave a mark but not to kill circulation.
Still naked. Still stuck inside this damned circle.
How could this happen to me? What would become of me after this?
