To onlookers, the two strikingly different beautiful women seemed to be whispering intimately to each other as they walked hand-in-hand into Danitalia's private lounge. What should have been a sweet, private time for the two of them was about to begin.
Of course, the reality was far from what others imagined.
"Here, the potion recipe you requested."
Alice handed her nominal employer a folded piece of paper tucked between her fingers.
Danitalia took the paper, quickly scanning the writing, a barely suppressed excitement on her face.
The note read:
"Arsonist, also known as Fire Mage, main ingredients are the glands and a pair of compound eyes of an adult black-backed white-bellied spider, three fruits of the Molten Sulfur Tree or the complete root system of a juvenile Molten Sulfur Tree, auxiliary ingredients are..."
Upon seeing this, the girl beside her seemed to lift a rather heavy suitcase onto the coffee table in the lounge, and then slowly said in a calm and gentle voice:
"These are the materials mentioned in the recipe. You can have someone check and verify them, but don't forget to let me know before your promotion... Well, you know, this is one of the conditions we agreed on."
Danitaly laughed.
"Of course, no problem, my dear Alice. This is something I promised you before, and I won't go back on my word. Rather, it's the fact that your demands are too small that makes me uneasy."
"The conditions I've set are quite substantial." Alice blinked, sat back on the sofa, and listed them off one by one. "First, the transfer of that banquet invitation; second, I need you to find someone to quickly make two handmade dresses; and finally, I need permission to observe your promotion process… It's mainly the last point that I thought you would refuse."
"No, not at all. If you wanted to harm me, why bother waiting until I drank the potion? You could do it now."
Danitalie shook her head with a smile, happily opening the small suitcase Alice had placed on the table, not hiding her current vulnerability.
"To be honest, Alice, you're the kindest witch I've ever met. Ha, though I haven't met any other witches either."
"Should I thank you for your compliment?"
Having disguised herself as a "wild" witch who had broken away from the organization, Alice was now undoubtedly in character, asking with a curious but reserved tone,
"But you said you haven't met any other witches? Then why did you receive that invitation? Could it be that the witch hosting the banquet doesn't appear before the guests on her own…"
"I don't know, because I myself have never been to the manor where the banquet was held. My father and his butler always warned me to stay away from such 'smoky' places."
When mentioning her father, Sir Deville, Alice noticed that Danitalie subtly pursed her lips, as if she was somewhat upset—which was consistent with what she had learned in the past few days; Sir Deville's family relationship didn't seem to be very harmonious.
"And to be honest, I can't guarantee that the banquet was definitely hosted by the witch. Five or six months ago, a rumor circulated in the circle of one of my extraordinary friends that it was true, but in the end, no one could verify the truth of the rumor, so I thought… if I'm wrong, you can consider accepting my compensation."
As she spoke, Danitalia had already inspected the extraordinary materials carefully preserved in her briefcase. She closed the lid again, her deep, captivating blue eyes turning to the young witch beside her, filled with tender affection.
Alice shook her head slightly.
"No need. I have a feeling this is the opportunity I've been looking for… and if your compensation refers to sleeping with me, or me sleeping with you, then please allow me to refuse."
"Alright…"
Danitalia sighed regretfully, no longer dwelling on the topic: although she really desired this witch and
was looking forward to her captivating reaction, it all had to be on a consensual basis; otherwise, it would be forced… well, that didn't seem so bad, but she wasn't sure if she could beat her. Moreover, Danitalia had heard that a young man had been picking Alice up from the café near the end of the workday these past few days.
She had tried to "bump into" this young man yesterday, hoping to use her usual provocative tactics, but to no avail—he hadn't shown up at all!
Come to think of it, someone chosen by the witch wouldn't be so easy to deal with.
But thinking this, she couldn't help but confirm again:
"Are you sure you don't need me to be your date at the banquet?"
Alice smiled somewhat helplessly.
"But, Danitalia, you are a lady. No matter how you dress in men's formal attire, your biological sex is female."
...See, she used that reason to refuse her.
Danitalia sighed and asked, settling for second best:
"Alright, then besides the dress, is there anything else I can help with? Jewelry? A carriage? Or anything else..."
As before, Alice said she had already arranged all of that, as long as the artisans Danitalia had commissioned could finish sewing the handmade dress in time, that would be enough.
"Don't worry about making the dress. As long as you pay enough, someone will always be willing to sacrifice their rest and sleep to complete the client's request."
As if sensing Alice's gaze, Danitalie smiled with a hint of self-deprecation.
"Heh, this is a bad habit I accidentally picked up from my father… He believes everything has a price tag, and that you can buy anything you want with enough money.
So he bought titles, he invested in charity to buy fame, he bought mansions and servants, thinking that would buy me a home… Sorry, I'm getting a bit off-topic."
This was the truth Danitalie believed from the bottom of her heart, and it was also her tried-and-true secret to winning over women—being proactive and assertive in daily life, then "inadvertently" revealing a little vulnerability to evoke empathy in others.
Almost all of her ex-girlfriends were won over by this tactic.
…Well, this witch clearly wasn't buying it.
She politely brushed off the topic, then reiterated that Danitalie should inform her before her promotion, before standing up, seemingly preparing to return to work.
Despite having never met other witches and having only a limited number of extraordinary individuals, Danitalia still felt that Alice completely overturned her imagination of witches… Well, her looks and figure were quite fitting, no, even better than she had expected…
The thirst for fresh prey excited Danitalia. She forcibly suppressed the boiling impulse in her blood, silently loosened her tightly clenched back teeth, and took a deep breath.
"Wait a minute, Alice. I've decided. Tonight I'll take the 'Arsonist' potion and advance to Sequence 7. As for the location… I'll choose my villa outside the city. It's usually very quiet there, with only two or three servants responsible for simple cleaning. I don't have to worry about being disturbed by outsiders. It's a good place. You can take my carriage there later."
Alice was slightly surprised, sensing the implication in her words.
"Are you sure you don't need to have the formula and ingredients authenticated?"
"Why wouldn't I be sure? Besides, I've already said that if you intend to harm me, you can just do it directly. Why bother tampering with the potion?"
Danitalie displayed considerable trust.
However, Alice had already learned about the reputation of witches in the supernatural world through her own means—it was definitely not associated with purity and kindness, but rather with evil, madness, and twisted charm, yet also full of alluring allure.
She was now somewhat convinced that she was the first "witch" this hunter lady had ever met.
If she showed such unguarded trust to other witches, Alice strongly suspected that Danitalie would be completely exploited, well, literally exploited.
Should she play the villain even more?
A few thoughts flashed through Alice's mind, but she remained expressionless as she sat back in the soft sofa chair and nodded slightly to the woman in men's clothing beside her.
"Okay, no problem, I'll send a message to a friend first."
...
Halls Street, Divination Furniture Club.
As usual, Klein stepped out of the restroom stall, turned on the stylish brass faucet in the club, and began washing his hands attentively.
Unlike usual, today he was only halfway through washing his hands when he vaguely sensed something in the corner of his eye. He instinctively looked up at the mirror in front of him and froze.
On the clean, bright mirror reflecting Klein's face, a line of bright red text, seemingly written in blood, slowly seeped out: "
To Klein, I have something to do tonight and will probably be home very late. You don't need to pick me up. Remember not to buy too much groceries, and also explain this to Benson and Melissa for me. (Hope this didn't scare you.) — Alice."
...Huh?
Klein was horrified and suddenly felt completely disoriented. He even forgot to turn off the tap, letting the water run for a long time before he came to his senses.
No, you, you...you sent me a message in such a horrifying way, but could you at least not make the message so mundane?
It's bad for my heart!
Klein, nearly losing control, muttered several curses to calm his terrified state, finally remembering the matter of cleaning up the blood-stained words.
He bent down to scoop up some water and splash it on the mirror to wash away the glaring writing.
But when he looked up again, the words had faded as if by illusion, leaving him staring blankly at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes filled with bewilderment.
"A witch's unique magic?"
Despite not being able to see what Alice had done on her small vanity mirror, Danitalie was still incredibly curious and couldn't help but ask.
"Don't even think about it. Even if you become a 'fire mage,' you won't be able to learn it,"
Alice ruthlessly extinguished her fantasy.
Fine. Danitalie shook her head and stood up, her posture instantly returning to its tall and upright form.
She approached Alice, extending her right hand like a gentleman, a smile playing on her handsome face. Her tone was gentle yet firm:
"Then come with me, beautiful witch. May we both have a pleasant night."
...
The night was deep. The crimson moon hung high in the dark, curtain-like sky, its light falling peacefully and serenely on the villa on the outskirts of Deville, illuminating every creature sleeping in the night.
The three servants responsible for cleaning and living quarters were already fast asleep, deep in slumber. The young mistress of the villa, and her guests, each carrying a classic candlestick, descended the stairs one after the other into the cold basement.
"You're starting to feel like a witch to me now,"
Danitalie's voice came from the warm glow of the candlelight ahead, echoing slightly in the empty basement.
According to Danitalie herself, this villa was originally an alternative for her father's occasional vacations. However, ever since Danitalie developed a passion for hunting game in the woods near the manor, Sir Deville had almost tacitly approved of it, transferring it to his daughter's name.
And the basement, which originally housed some brewing barrels, had them all moved out at Danitalie's request.
Danitalie's explanation was that she wanted to process her game in the basement, drying the meat to make jerky; but this was clearly just an excuse, an excuse for her extraordinary experiments.
"So, your impression of witches is that they wear black robes?"
Alice walked a few steps slower than her down the stairs leading to the basement, then watched as the woman dressed as a man skillfully found the gas light switch, turned it on, and instantly a warm yellow light dispelled the darkness.
Alice, now dressed in a long, black robe that enveloped her entire body, wore a matching hood and gloves that concealed her skin. Only her breathtakingly beautiful face, so stunning it was dizzying to behold, was visible, seemingly embodying an invisible, bewitching allure.
After admiring the almost dangerously beautiful witch for a moment, Daenerys smiled and turned away, placing the box containing extraordinary ingredients on the wooden table. She then went to a corner piled with miscellaneous items to search for the vessels and tools needed for brewing potions.
"Never mind, I was just saying...tsk, where's my measuring cup again?"
After a rummaging search, Daenerys finally gathered everything she needed.
She carried the large cauldron and the chemical-looking tools to the table, then opened her briefcase and, following the instructions on the note, placed the ingredients one by one into the enormous cauldron.
Soon, a viscous liquid, bubbling with reddish-brown lava-like bubbles, was born.
"An arsonist's... no, a fire mage's potion."
Daenerys adopted Alice's name for the potion, poured it into a glass, and raised it in a toast as if enjoying fine wine.
...That's it? No need to process the raw materials? No need to wash the vessels used for mixing the potion? Not even using supernatural methods to observe the changes in the properties of the ingredients during mixing?
The people of this world are far too crude and perfunctory in their handling of potions!
The young mage, long accustomed to the torments of alchemy, almost showed a look of astonishment.
However, she held back.
At the same time, she made up her mind that she would never touch such a disgusting potion.
Nodding slightly to the smiling, male-dressed beauty raising her glass not far away, Alice watched as she drank the seemingly boiling potion in one gulp.
Almost the instant she drank the potion, extremely terrifying strange phenomena appeared on Daenerys's body.
Her face flushed crimson, her expression contorted in agony. The veins, bulging and throbbing from the surging blood, seemed ready to burst through her skin like living snakes.
Her limbs, encased in her shirt and trousers, were unnaturally swollen and bloated. The power within her body was so violent that it even tore through the fabric, exposing the equally crimson skin beneath.
This abnormal, inhuman red was not merely a color change, but a manifestation of some mysterious, scorching heat on her mortal form—a fact evident in her shoes, which showed signs of melting.
Danitalia was now like a nearly cooked shrimp, her usual strength and beauty completely gone.
Soon, she could no longer maintain her composure, furiously swatting aside the clutter on the wooden table with one hand, then kicking it so hard it nearly felled apart, letting out a beastly roar as she destroyed everything around her.
She seemed oblivious to Alice, who stood silently against the basement wall, venting her inner pain with ferocity and rage. Only after more than ten minutes did a glimmer of intelligence gradually appear in her azure eyes.
"Hiss...this is probably the most...the most...I've ever really messed with the basement..."
Danitali collapsed onto the floor, panting heavily, utterly exhausted, her words barely coherent.
The sweat that had just flowed from her body had evaporated in the intense heat; she was utterly drained, as if she had been roasted in an oven.
Yet, her heart was filled with boundless joy, brimming with excitement and exhilaration.
A new power surged within her body; without even consciously comparing, she could feel her strength and speed multiply, as if she had been reborn overnight. The wisdom inherited from her extraordinary and mysterious inner self allowed her to sense her new abilities even with her eyes closed.
Fire control.
Daenerys kept her eyes closed, trying to activate that instinct.
When she opened her eyes, the ball of flame floating in her right palm clearly came into view; and as she thought, the flame transformed into various shapes according to her intentions.
"Congratulations, Daenerys, you are now a 'Fire Mage'."
Alice's slightly calm voice drifted over, causing Daenerys to disperse the fireball in her palm and look up at her.
Almost without a word, Alice sensed her will in those fiery eyes.
The newly minted "Fire Mage," barely recovering from the lingering effects of the potion, smiled—a slightly manic smile, tinged with a hint of rust.
The next second, the spot where Alice was standing was hit by another fireball that was rushing towards her, and a dahlia bloomed out, dyed crimson by the explosion.