Chapter 16
“‘He did that on purpose.’”
Enya realized it immediately. As Helios released his holy power to break the illusion, he had deliberately driven that power through her body.
No matter what, mages and priests with even a bit of skill were supposed to control their power so as not to harm each other—it was basic courtesy. Yet that petty bastard had played dirty. Sure, Enya had cast the illusion first, but that had been agreed upon, hadn’t it?
Enya flared up and was about to snap, “Did you just hit me?”—but he spoke faster.
“Morgenda’s Tower Master.”
The corner of Helios’s mouth twitched faintly, as if suppressing anger.
“It’s so crude it’s laughable.”
“Crude?”
Crude? Crude? Her magic was about as far from “crude” as it could get.
The spell she had cast today had been meticulously constructed so his memories could manifest as a vivid illusion. A lesser mage would have beautified the memory—or worse, produced nonsense where horses flew and people had heads attached to their groins.
Her softened feelings from seeing his younger self flipped instantly the moment he insulted her skill.
“You break out using holy power and call that crude? You’re the crude one. You look like a drowned rat right now.”
Enya stopped caring about restraint. Her face flushed red as she fumed.
“You balding idiot-to-be. You know that if you release holy power while I’m tracking the nightmare demon, everything goes to waste, and you still pull this?”
“…Do you think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?”
Helios strode toward her as if the idea were absurd. They closed the distance again, as if about to clash.
“Looks like you were trying to fish something out through my ring.”
He smiled as if he might burst into flames, then ground his teeth.
“If I’m petty, then your magic is sloppy. I won’t fall for a nightmare demon’s illusion—or yours—not in this lifetime.”
At this point, Enya could only be amazed. This man was like a blade constantly provoking her, never giving her a moment’s peace.
And she was no different, reacting to him just as fiercely. She knew how childish it was, yet couldn’t stop.
“No, we’re not ending it like this. You used holy power too, so this round is void.”
With a crooked grin, Enya released her mana like a demon king. But striking him now, wrapped in holy power, would do nothing.
So instead, she struck Gray from behind while he was off guard.
“Ugh!”
The sudden surge of mana hit the back of his head, and Gray froze in shock from the pain. It hurt enough already, but when Helios whipped his head around to glare at him, his eyes didn’t say “Are you okay?”—they said “How did you even get hit?”
Gray felt like crying.
“Keep a better eye on your subordinate. I thought he was precious to you.”
Enya smiled coldly and grabbed both of Helios’s wrists. Instantly, a massive wave erupted as holy power and mana collided.
Amid the surging energy, she pulled his wrists down, rose on her toes, and whispered into his ear.
“Helios. Relax your strength.”
Her voice slid into his ear like a serpent.
“Don’t you remember our deal? If you overcome the illusion, I follow your lead.”
“…Since it’s come to this, shall we add another condition, Tower Master?”
Helios tilted his head slightly and smirked. Their rough breaths mingled.
“The loser speaks ‘politely’ until the subjugation ends.”
“Well, that’s surprisingly admirable.”
Enya agreed with satisfaction.
“I accept.”
Helios gazed at her briefly, then closed his eyes and withdrew his holy power—a signal for her to cast the illusion.
As if waiting for it, Enya’s pitch-black mana surged from the ground like a shadow, then poured over him like a waterfall.
“Sir Helios!”
“Captain!”
Marie and Gray rushed forward in alarm as the thick, dark mana engulfed him. But to their surprise, it didn’t linger—it sank into the ground and vanished.
A dreadful silence fell.
“Captain?”
Gray blinked and called out to the motionless Helios.
“Captain? Helios? Hyung?”
There was no response. Looking closer, Helios stood still with his eyes closed, his expression peaceful—like a statue that only breathed.
Even Marie felt a chill.
“Tower Master, what has happened to him?”
“He’s under an illusion. Something he’d experience in a nightmare demon’s domain.”
Enya’s indifferent reply made Marie unable to hold back her displeasure.
“Didn’t the outcome already get decided? This feels… childish—excessive.”
“No, Sir Marie.”
Laila cut in primly.
“Sir Helios dispelled the illusion with holy power earlier. That makes it void.”
Enya released Helios’s wrists and turned toward the tense holy knights.
“Marie, was it?”
Her tone was completely different now—languid, oppressive. Even her black eyes, devoid of light, made Marie straighten unconsciously.
“If he falls under the illusion and becomes a puppet obeying a nightmare demon, you could get hurt. A test like this is necessary.”
“…Our captain isn’t someone who would fall for such illusions.”
“Is that so? It’s hard to trust that when he plays along with something ‘childish.’”
Marie, who had called it childish herself, snapped her mouth shut.
Enya simply smiled, neither mocking nor teasing.
“Even a high-ranking nightmare demon’s illusion amounts to a few naked bodies at best. If he can’t overcome that, how can we trust him?”
Though she said that, the illusion she cast was on par with something from a first-class nightmare demon. And desire—even if rooted in lust—could never be isolated so simply.
All desires—aspirations at their highest, greed at their lowest—were intricately intertwined. Nothing was pure. Just like emotions.
The higher the rank of the nightmare demon, the more complex desires it seized upon. It wouldn’t be easy.
From glimpsing his past, Enya was certain.
The affection he showed—enough to kiss a ring—was longing. And longing inevitably came with the desire to see.
And wanting to see something—that itself was desire.
It didn’t matter what relationship he had with the ring’s owner, or whether it still continued.
What mattered was that he desired someone.
That was enough.
“Can’t you or Gray see the illusion this time?” Marie asked again, still uneasy.
“Can’t. And why would we? Do you want to watch your captain entangled with naked bodies?”
“I—”
“No! Absolutely not! I really don’t!”
This time Gray jumped in.
“B-But if no one can see it, how can we p-prove the captain hasn’t fallen for the illusion? He’s just standing there asleep!”
Standing before Helios, Enya curled her lips.
“If he resists it, he’ll wake up and act normally. Then he’ll form the subjugation party as he wishes. But if not—”
She pointed to her own neck.
“He’ll try to strangle me, like someone controlled by a nightmare demon. Then the party will be formed my way.”
She added that she would dispel the magic the moment he tried to choke her, but Marie still found the situation disturbing.
The Tower Master had no hesitation in putting herself in harm’s way. Laila, too, merely smiled bitterly, as if accustomed to this.
‘What a strange place.’
Thinking it a truly strange tower with a strange master, Marie looked at her superior.
Helios appeared peaceful, as if asleep.
She couldn’t even begin to imagine what was happening inside his mind. It made her uneasy in a different way.
She had known him nearly half her life—and yet he remained unknowable.
Helios slowly opened his eyes, feeling hands roaming across his chest.
[Helios, I’ve been waiting.]
The moment he opened them, impossibly beautiful women he had never seen before clung to him, nearly naked, whispering sweetly.
[You’ve always been wrapped in armor. It must have been suffocating.]
[Helios, my love, more beautiful than the western star.]
As if their touches didn’t exist, Helios casually surveyed his surroundings.
A domed ceiling of immeasurable height, draped with multicolored silks cascading down. Countless bodies swayed, devoted solely to carnal desire.
A meticulously crafted illusion.
This wasn’t a shared memory—it was purely meant to draw out his desires. Every figure was exquisitely detailed, each different, tailored to his tastes.
But—
‘It’s still an illusion.’
No matter how skilled Enya’s magic was, it was still an illusion. There were ways to break free.
First, one had to recognize it as an illusion. The moment you accepted it as real, escape became difficult.
Second, you must not desire to see more of it. Even the slightest longing would pull you deeper.
Finally, while maintaining both states, you had to find the “real.”
The “real” referred to the nightmare demon’s true form.
Nightmare demons hid within illusions. Despite their grand reputation, their true forms were said to be grotesque—so horrifying that merely seeing them filled one with dread.
But here, since the caster was Enya and not a nightmare demon, he had to find her.
He moved forward, parting curtains, checking each figure one by one. Whenever a black-haired illusion clung to him, he examined its face.
It was a mechanical act, like searching for a word in a dictionary.
Each illusion, beautiful as a painting, gazed at Helios—who surpassed even them in beauty—and spoke in ecstasy.
[Kiss me, Helios.]
[I want to be inside you.]
Women of every conceivable type appeared, clinging to him, trying to match his indifferent tastes.
Helios gently brushed them aside.
Sometimes, he flicked them away lightly—like tapping a child on the forehead.
