Vol 2. Chapter 75: The Final Net

"Of course, my esteemed lady. Everything you desire shall come to pass," Farkas said, bowing low before the red-haired woman.

"Let’s hope so," the red-haired woman cast him a sidelong glance, her expression filled with disdain for the man groveling at her feet.

She was a succubus, true, and yes, she fed on male essence—but that didn’t mean she would eat anything. Only starving low-class succubi devoured whatever filth crossed their path. She was a refined, noble-born high succubus, her bloodline connected—distantly—to one of the grand dukes of their race.

If not for her current mission, and her desire to earn her queen’s favor, she wouldn’t have bothered seducing such a tasteless, spineless old pervert.

Just like among humans, where nobles and commoners differ in culinary taste, the demon world—especially among succubi—had its own hierarchy.

The lower ones were exactly like the urban legends: indiscriminate, ravenous, uncontrollable if not kept in check by high command to avoid open war with the humans. Left alone, they would’ve already swarmed across the border to feed en masse.

To the refined upper class, those base creatures were nothing more than vulgar animals—uncultured, gluttonous, without a shred of taste.

They didn’t just crave fullness. They wanted flavor—the spiritual satisfaction of conquering prey worth the effort. Someone morally corrupt, weak-willed, with no ambition or principle? Boring. Even if they succeeded, there was no thrill.

They wouldn't even look at garbage like that. Better to starve than sink to that level.

The ideal prey was someone with faith, ideals, and unyielding will. Someone difficult to charm. Someone whose resistance made the ultimate seduction all the more intoxicating.

Farkas... was the opposite.

She glanced again at the pathetic middle-aged man groveling before her. If she hadn’t known what kind of person he really was, she might’ve been fooled by his kindly, gentle priestly demeanor—fooled into thinking he was some pious, upstanding man of the cloth.

In truth, he was nothing but a degenerate old lech. The moment she gave him the slightest nudge, he fell headfirst into corruption. His obsession made her infiltration of the border region almost laughably easy.

She had once assumed this man might be a delicacy. He turned out to be trash. The kind of filth only low-class succubi would touch.

Just a minor trick, and this man betrayed his faith in the Goddess of Radiance, betrayed the church, and colluded with their mortal enemies to bring ruin upon his own kind. Even for a demon, such a human was disgusting.

If he weren’t still useful, she’d have torn him to shreds and tossed him in the garbage already—just to stop him from polluting the air around her.

But fine. She’d endure him a little longer. Once the plan was complete, she’d kill this buzzing fly without a second thought.

She had already silently taken control of most of the empire’s borderlands. Her Majesty the Queen would surely reward her handsomely!

Yes... once that happened, her rise to power would begin.

A sweet smile curved on her lips at the thought—one that sent a shiver of delight through Farkas.

"Alright. Those two little pests—we’ll let them go. Now hurry up and finish things. By tomorrow night, I want this village fully converted into a paradise for our kind."

"At once, my lady. I’ll notify the others—your kin who are already hidden throughout the village. I’ll tell them to begin," Farkas said, pulling open a drawer and reaching into the hidden compartment.

But... his fingers touched nothing.

Strange. He could’ve sworn it was right here...

Farkas frowned.

Could it be his memory was slipping? Had he misplaced the scroll used to notify the succubi embedded in the village?

Impossible. Something so important—he had to have hidden it carefully. He wouldn’t have left it lying around.

"What are you doing? Don’t tell me you lost the scroll," the red-haired woman snapped, her eyes narrowing.

"S-Sorry, please wait a moment. It should be here. I haven’t touched it—" Farkas was starting to sweat.

"Looking for this, Father?" A sweet, bell-like voice—light and teasing—cut in.

"Yes, that’s—...what?!" Farkas turned instinctively—and froze.

In the silver-haired girl’s hand was his scroll. His eyes lit up for a split second... then widened in horror.

"You, you...?!"

He pointed a trembling finger at Aesphyra, whose smile was all honey and blades.

"Weren’t you... gone?!"

"Oh, I was," Aesphyra said with a bright smile, twirling the scroll between her fingers. "But then I remembered—I had something of yours I forgot to return. And it’s not right to take things that don’t belong to you, is it? So I came back to return it~"

"You... no—how did you even...?!" Farkas was spiraling. He still didn’t know where he’d slipped up. When had she gotten the scroll? How had she even known about it? It had been locked away in a secret compartment! She couldn’t possibly have taken it without him noticing!

And how had she even suspected him?!

"You idiot," the red-haired woman snarled, rising to her feet and glaring at Aesphyra. "Still think they were just a pair of naïve students? Now look at you—outwitted by the very brats you mocked!"

"You—you’re a vile demon! Stay back, miss, she’s dangerous!" Farkas suddenly snapped into a false priestly panic, brandishing the cross from his chest and turning to face the succubus.

Clearly, in that instant, he’d realized what was at stake.

His priesthood had taken years to secure. If the truth came out—that he’d colluded with demons and helped slaughter innocents—it wouldn’t just be a job he lost.

It would be the pyre.

"Hah!" The red-haired woman laughed bitterly. "Now you want to play the pious man? Give me a break. You still don’t get it, do you?"

"She saw through your mask from the start. Can’t you tell? Think about how long she must’ve been watching us—how long she’s been here—without either of us noticing."

"Someone like her, with her composure and cunning... You really think she didn’t use a Recording Stone to capture every word you’ve said by now? And now you want to switch sides? Play dumb? It’s too late, you idiot. If she succeeds tonight, you’re dead. The church will burn you!"

"Ara~?" A glint of mock surprise flickered in Aesphyra’s violet eyes. Her smile widened, amused and cruel.

"For a demon who planned this whole little operation, I expected a bit more brainpower. But I suppose you're not entirely hopeless after all."

"Correct~" Aesphyra pulled a glowing Recording Stone from her sleeve and flashed it in Farkas’s face. His complexion turned sheet white.

"To betray your own people... you must’ve already given up on being human, haven’t you, old man?"

"You smug little bitch. You really think this means you’ve won?" the red-haired woman hissed.

"You... When did you start suspecting me?" Farkas croaked, his lips trembling.

"No one ever told you?" Aesphyra tilted her head. Her smile remained, but the warmth drained from her voice. "You really have the most disgusting eyes, you know that?"

From the moment they met, Aesphyra had noticed the way Farkas looked at her.

His gaze was subtle—subtle enough that a naïve girl wouldn’t have picked up on it. Even if she did, she’d probably think she imagined it.

But Aesphyra wasn’t that kind of girl. That kind of filthy, lecherous gaze—she knew it all too well. No disguise could hide it from her.

This hypocrite—pretending to be holy and righteous, while rotting inside—was exactly the kind she loathed.

Especially when compared to Vinny’s gaze.

Vinny’s dumb, straightforward, puppy-like gaze, full of unfiltered desire and cluelessness, was almost cute in comparison. Even when he got flustered and tried to deny it, it was easy to read—and it didn’t make her skin crawl.

Farkas, on the other hand, made her want to vomit.

She’d suspected him since that first meeting. But that alone wasn’t proof of demonic collusion.

The real clue came from the Serpent Den.

The serpent that attacked them hadn’t been part of the batch previously exterminated. That one had clearly been raised by demons—it obeyed commands. The others had been wild and erratic.

That meant the second batch—the ones kidnapping villagers—had been intentionally introduced. Controlled. And it meant the “serpent problem” was a cover—a smokescreen to hide a full-scale village takeover.

But that kind of maneuver required inside intel. You’d need to know exactly when the empire’s troops would be rotating out. You’d need to time everything perfectly.

From the beginning, Aesphyra suspected an insider.

After she and Vinny arrived, only two villagers ever really interacted with them.

The old village chief.

And Father Farkas.

After questioning the old village chief and Farkas, the two of them headed straight for the Serpent Den. There, using one of Aesphyra’s alchemy detection potions, they discovered magical residue—evidence that a scroll had been used no more than ten minutes prior.

The timing was too perfect.

They had left the village just ten minutes before. Which meant—right as they set out for the den, someone inside it had used, or triggered, a magical scroll.

Too perfect to be coincidence.

Was it possible that the scroll was some kind of signal scroll—a linked set? That when one was burned, all other connected scrolls within a certain radius would also ignite, sending a message?

Maybe the person who left in a hurry realized midway they’d forgotten something and couldn’t risk returning themselves. So they sent a demonic serpent to take care of it for them.

After all, spotting a lone serpent in a den of serpents... not exactly suspicious, was it?

Neither that person nor Farkas had any way of predicting that Aesphyra—just a first-year student—would be such a monstrous cheat, carrying custom-made alchemical reagents capable of pinpointing magic traces, even recognizing that the serpent who attacked them was not from the same batch as the ones previously exterminated.

From the moment they entered the village, Aesphyra had already picked up the scent of alchemical potions lingering faintly in the air. It was subtle—intentionally masked—but her unmatched alchemical senses weren’t so easily fooled.

And those suspicious villagers? All had been previously captured and "rescued" from the serpents.

If the serpents were under the demons’ control, and if the scent of alchemical reagents was present when those villagers returned—then the answer was obvious.

The villagers had been subjected to alchemical experimentation inside the Serpent Den.

The demon faction had scrubbed the den clean, removing any trace of their experiments. Even Aesphyra couldn't find lingering residue—at first.

But she wasn’t giving up.

From there, she began narrowing her suspicions. She deliberately told both the old village chief and Farkas that they’d found traces of potion usage in the Serpent Den. Then she added that, due to the late hour, they would return the next day to investigate further.

If either of them were collaborators, they’d have no choice but to act—either to destroy the evidence or at least to confirm it.

Of course, being a student had its perks. That title came with assumptions: inexperience, naivety, lack of guile. The kind of girl who was all sunshine and books, protected by her noble family, utterly clueless about the real world.

Aesphyra leaned into that image perfectly. Her performance was flawless. Farkas fully bought the act, believing her to be the sheltered daughter of some house who’d never once dealt with lies and blood.

So when he learned the den still contained magical traces, and that they’d be returning the next day, he panicked.

And immediately used a scroll to notify the demons to remove the evidence.

That message... was exactly what triggered the scroll signal Aesphyra’s potion detected.

From there, everything fell into place.

Aesphyra compared both scenarios: after telling the old village chief—no reaction. The next day, no traces of movement in the den.

But after telling Farkas—boom. Alchemical signs everywhere.

The traitor couldn’t be more obvious.

As for the old village chief—Aesphyra guessed he knew something was wrong but didn’t dare speak out. The demon surveillance was too tight. From the very first night, she and Vinny had been watched. If the old man had said anything he shouldn’t have—he and his grandson would’ve been the first to die.

He let them stay in his home out of concern. He was trying to protect the two young outsiders. Perhaps he even hoped they’d take his grandson away from this cursed place.

How did Aesphyra manage to check the cave for footprints every night and lay new batches of alchemical detection reagent without anyone knowing?

Please.

Those who knew, knew.

Once she had strong reason to believe Farkas was the mole, she entered his home and copied the same bait-and-wait tactic. There, hidden in a false drawer and beneath the floorboards, she found the scrolls that proved her theory.

And how did she know where he hid them?

Please.

Compared to Aesphyra, Farkas was a total amateur at concealment. She knew exactly where people hid things they couldn’t afford to be found. His methods were laughably basic.

She didn’t even have to try.

After that, it was easy. She told Farkas—who by now completely believed in her carefully crafted persona—that they’d found nothing and were going home.

He dropped his guard completely.

All she had to do was wait. He would make contact with the demons sooner or later.

And then? She’d catch him red-handed.

And that’s how everything happened.

Farkas, of course, still couldn’t understand. He couldn’t figure out where he’d gone wrong—what had tipped her off, how she’d found the scroll, when it had all started. He truly believed everything had been airtight.

What he didn’t realize... was that he, a greasy old conman of the mortal world, had just been destroyed by a girl decades younger than him.

Crushed.

Outplayed.

Outclassed.

But really, that was just his bad luck.

If it had been anyone but Aesphyra sent for this practical exam—any other girl from Carillian Academy’s top five—they would’ve walked away empty-handed. At best, they might’ve suspected something, but they’d have had no proof.

Worst-case scenario? They wouldn’t have walked away at all.

“You incompetent worm,” the red-haired succubus spat, glaring down at the devastated Farkas. “You got played by some brat. You going to sit there crying like a child, or are you going to clean up your mess?”

Her words jolted Farkas back to life.

Right. What was the point of worrying about all that now? The situation was already out of control—he needed to fix it.

And if he couldn’t fix the situation...

He could fix the girl.

The succubus was still on his side—for now. If he could stop this silver-haired menace from leaving, if he could silence her before she exposed him and his demonic allies—then he could still keep his pristine reputation.

Still remain the honored priest of the Church.

As for Carillian Academy’s inevitable investigation?

He’d deal with that later.

Farkas’s gaze slowly shifted.

When he looked at Aesphyra again—his eyes had changed.