As Ophelia exited the grand hall, the doors closing with a resonant thud behind her, her gaze was immediately drawn to the figure leaning casually against the wall beside the twin doors. A tan woman, about 5'10, stood there, her stance relaxed yet undeniably alluring.
She wore scandalously revealing clothing in a deep, rich purple that clung to her body like a second skin, leaving just enough to the imagination. Her outfit shimmered faintly under the dim light of the corridor, each piece of fabric shifting like liquid shadows around her as if it held a life of its own.
Atop her head rested an ethereal witch's hat, dyed nebula purple, its fabric almost translucent as if woven from the cosmos itself. From each side of the hat, two dark purple horns poked out, curling slightly to add a devilish piece to her appearance. Long waves of brown hair, streaked with lighter shades, cascaded down her back, framing her sharp, almost hypnotic features.
Her eyes, a seductive shade of chalky blue, seemed to glint mischievously as she noticed Ophelia. But it was her jewelry that was truly incredble. Rings adorned every finger, silver bracelets lined her wrists, and a series of delicate chains draped across her collarbones.
"You're quite the terrifying presence," she purred, her voice low and sultry, an amused smile taking to her lips as she looked Ophelia up and down with a lazy, appreciative gaze. She crossed her arms, jingling her dozens of jewelry. "You've turned that room completely inside out, darling."
Without breaking her gaze, she tilted her head, the two horns casting faint shadows along the wall. "I must say, watching them squirm in there… well, it almost makes me envious that you have such a way with your words." She then lifted off the wall. "Now, shall we discuss our matters, or did you simply wish to savor your victory a little longer?"
The woman's lips curled into a smirk as she waited for Ophelia's reply. However, the only response she received was a cold gaze judgingly looking her up and down before continuing down the hallway. However, the woman felt as if she could already feel her answer.
"Then let's get going."
About ten minutes later, the two of them were within Ophelia's personal barracks, a space that, while modestly furnished, was still lined with dark wood, maps pinned meticulously across the walls, and candlelight illuminating the room. Ophelia sat on a sturdy wooden chair and turned to face her bed.
The woman had settled herself onto the edge of Ophelia's bed, reclining back with one arm propped behind her. Her legs were crossed, the thin fabric of her scandalous purple attire falling in a way that revealed just enough to add an air of mystery to her already provocative appearance.
"So, you bring me to your lair, then," she murmured, a smirk playing at her lips as she absently adjusted one of the many bracelets on her wrist, its silver surface glinting. "A rather intimate place for… a discussion, wouldn't you say?"
Ophelia leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowed, but her lips barely shifted from their unreadable line. "We are here because I want privacy for what I'm about to say," she replied calmly. "And because I doubt you would want any wandering ears to overhear what might pass between us."
The woman chuckled softly. "And what secrets, dear Ophelia, do you think I would reveal here that you don't already know?" Her hand drifted idly to the bed's edge, tracing patterns on the fabric, her gaze flickering back to meet Ophelia's. "Or… perhaps you've called me here to show me something far more interesting than secrets."
The woman had already begun her act, however, Ophelia felt nothing but disgust.
"I have heard you were quite the fool, but I did not expect you to be this much of one," Ophelia calmly responded, rolling up her sleeve, and revealing the magic circles placed gently upon her skin.
"A fool? Me? A fool? What makes you say that?" The woman playfully chuckled, leaning forward and flicking her wrist, dispersing the magic circles in an instant.
"Jenna Pol. The Witch of Molecular Magic. A seducer of many men but also a scholar of support magic. One of the most valuable Archmages in the Holy Empire. And… a fool amongst mages."
"I despise that arrogance of yours," Jenna's tone suddenly shifted. "You look me at like I'm a tool. In fact, from what I can tell, you don't look at anybody like a living being. I hope you know the only reason why I'm working with you is because you know how to get rid of the curse placed upon me."
"I understand. We have a mutual relationship bound by nothing but words. There is no need to be kind to each other."
"Tch… speaking of bindings? You are not as thorough as I thought you would be. After all of those lies, gaslighting, and trickery, you left those two knights, the colonel, and that elven scholar without binding them with anything. If they were to say anything to the empire, all of your plans would crumble apart… mind telling me what you're thinking?"
Once again, Ophelia looked Jenna up and down before prying her lips open, choking back a wave of nausea.
"A demoness doesn't deserve such knowledge."
In an instant, Jenna rose from the bed, the playful allure vanishing from her expression as her eyes transformed. Her sclera turned pitch black, contrasting against her swirling, stormy gray-blue pupils that seemed to spiral like a churning whirlpool.
She loomed above Ophelia, her entire frame exuding an intense, seething bloodlust that filled the room, saturating the air with a dark, almost suffocating weight. The temperature seemed to drop, and a chill swept over the room.
Ophelia felt a trickle of blood escape her nose, running crimson down her pale skin, yet she remained as cold as ice. She met Jenna's gaze without so much as a flinch, her cold eyes narrowing as though to challenge the seething wrath that radiated from the witch.
Jenna's voice, now devoid of its earlier playfulness, dropped to a guttural whisper. "How do you know such a thing…" she hissed, each word a lash of venom as if each syllable could cut flesh. "You may play your little games with the nobles and your precious empire, but I am no one's tool!"
Ophelia tilted her head slightly, the smallest ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips despite the blood seeping down her chin. "Then prove me wrong, witch," she replied. "All your power, all your anger... and yet, you are here—bound to me by words and necessity. What does that make you?"
The air in the room grew thicker, Jenna's bloodlust flaring once again. It pressed in around Ophelia, but still, she didn't break. She could feel the throb of her pulse in her temple as her body registered the unnatural pressure bearing down on her, but she would not yield, not to Jenna or anyone.
Jenna's fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms as her breathing grew heavier, barely able to restrain the maelstrom swirling within her. "One day," she snarled, her words laced with poison, "you'll realize what it means to cross a witch of my power. And when you do... you'll wish you had treated me as more than a pawn."
Ophelia merely wiped the blood from her face before saying, "Then let that day come… But until then, remember… you need me. Not the other way around."
"..."
"..."
"Tch…" Jenna clicked her tongue once more before taking her seat back on the edge of her bed, releasing the bloodlust around Ophelia. "You're so weak that you couldn't even move, yet you dare to talk like that?"
Ophelia rolled her eyes before beginning the actual conversation. "I believe we have gone in enough circles. Let us talk about the end of your deal now that you have helped me out."
"That's right…" Jenna annoyingly chuckled. "You may be an asshole but that pride of yours is still massive. You would never go back on your word."
"You are correct. Now, I will only recite this once, so listen carefully," Ophelia sat back in her chair, crossing one leg over another. "To free yourself from the chains of your angelic master, you must create the Elixer of King Baal."
"The Elixer of King Baal?!" Jenna's eyes shot wide. "But nobody knows how to create it! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY GOING TO FUCK ME OVER LIKE THIS! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU—"
Ophelia placed a finger over her lips, quieting the woman who realized what was just about to happen. She quickly shut up and listened intently.
"The Heart of a Hellfire Rose. The Blood of an Umbral Serpent. Ashes of The Saintly Oak. Finally, a drop of your own blood at midnight," Ophelia listed out the ingredients, leaving the woman shocked, her jaw hanging loose.
"W-Where am I supposed to find them?" She asked, quelling her prior rage.
"Return back to the demon realm and pluck the heart of a hellfire rose in the Crimson Planes. It is commonly grown there so it will not be hard to find. While you are there, in the Crimson Planes, collect at least a liter of blood from an umbral serpent. You may not specialize in attack magic, but hiring a few competent mercenaries should do the trick. In addition, the sand within the Crimson Planes, you may not have realized is the ashes of the saintly oak. Collect five ounces of it and store it in an air-sealed jar before you return to the overworld otherwise, it will wither away into normal sand. Finally, pour all of these ingredients into a cauldron of your choice, using a gallon of normal fresh water as a base, and at midnight, let a drop of your blood mix into the concoction. This will create the Elixer."
"You…" The woman was stunned, unable to comprehend how this woman knew of such information. As she scratched her chin, calculating the ingredients, she realized it made sense. It somehow made sense. "... What are you planning? You could have easily lied about having that information and I wouldn't have known better… what exactly are you planning?"
"Hmmm… I do not know. But, come to me if any trouble arises," Ophelia eerily smiled.
"You…"
"..."
"If there was somehow a lapse in my calculations and this elixir doesn't work, your head is mine," She threatened before poofing away into a cloud of black dust.
"Mhmm."