The maid helped me fit a leather strap for the staff so I could hang it on my waist. I didn't need to swing it around like the halberd, so it was fitted to keep closer to my body and to not get in the way of fighting.

Now, I only lacked some enchanted robes to feel comfortable, but I was told it was something only the Queen had, so there was no hope I'd get one of my own anytime soon.

After the older maid returned, we took the potions and left to find Tatindod, and I was glad to get out of that smelly lab. The fact that the smell was so strong meant that everything they did was getting contaminated by it, which was obviously bad for their work's quality, but they were likely such awful alchemists that it might not even matter.

The Devotees lived at the corner of the Royal Block, and Forfta was among them, their only fully-fledged Holy Knight.

We met him in the corridor, and he was currently without his black scale armor.

"Farnezian, what are you doing here?" He curiously asked, then eyed the maids, who shyly released my arms.

"He wished to talk to the Shaman, Holy Sir," the older maid answered with a lowered head.

I have to ask their names…

And Forfta immediately became suspicious. "Tatindod? Why?"

"I wish to talk to her about the magical language," I calmly explained, holding back a scowl.

Just let me pass…

His blonde eyebrows knit in confusion and mumbled, "Magical… alright, I'll accompany you."

I motioned to the corridor ahead. "Lead the way."

 

The Shaman's room was quite simple and bare, just a bed, a table, chairs, and a shelf full of books, though she did have some interesting specimens inside jars, and some curious, colorful stones. The specimens seemed jelly-like and ethereal, by that I mean transparent and softly-glowing, so I assumed it was ghostly matter, which is a very useful ingredient for Wizardry.

Tatindod herself was sitting on her bed with her eyes closed as she meditated, an incense that activated my glasses' magical detection burned beside her. She was an adult woman with a motherly, gentle face that would give young boys an erection; her hair was shoulder-length and of a dark brown color, a new tone around here; and she had fair, freckled skin; but what was truly impressive were her large, bouncy breasts pressing tight against her small cotton shirt. Her exposed legs and arms were toned, so, as a whole, she gave the air of mystical hunter rather than a drug-abusing mage that "shamans" usually were.

But then again, the incense was magical, so perhaps the latter description wasn't that far from the truth.

She opened her boring dark brown eyes, and her husky voice graced my ears, "Holy Sir Forfta and Grand Wizard Farnezian, what do I owe this visit?"

I think she's the one that put me to sleep after the summoning.

"Wizard Farnezian wishes to talk to you about a 'magical language,'" Forfta answered for me.

Tatindod motioned towards the table. "Let's speak over some drinks. Servants…?" She turned to the maids.

"I shall bring a jug," the younger maid replied, then left.

We sat on the crude wooden chairs around a crude wooden table, and Forfta couldn't take his eyes off Tatindod's bouncy breasts and exposed thighs as she walked, but once everyone was seated, all eyes turned to me.

"Can you speak with the spirits of the dead?" I immediately asked, not one to stall unnecessarily.

Forfta looked between both of us with a bit of concern.

Don't tell me the fucking Thaumaturges are afraid of death…?

"I can, but they rarely speak pleasant things. They're dead, after all," Tatindod answered with a slow and deliberate tone, as if she was barely conscious of herself.

Drug abuser.

I shook my head gently and pushed my silky black hair away from my eyes. "I'm not interested in the contents, but I'm interested in how they speak. Do they use physical sound, or do they speak directly inside your mind?"

She hesitated for a moment, staring intensely into my eyes the whole time, making her look almost brain-dead. "They… speak through the heart," she finally answered.

Be more specific!

I reformulated my question for their inferior intellect, "Do you think it's like Bedama's 'Gift' of language that I received where I can hear what you speak, but then the meaning of your speech appears inside my mind?"

Tatindod's beautiful but boring-colored eyes narrowed in slight confusion, showing a bit more emotion than I expected from her. "That seems to be how you normally understand language."

I adjusted my glasses and quickly gathered my thoughts to better enlighten the primitive people. "No, there's a clear difference. I have no idea what each individual word means or even how to form a phrase in your language. It's like hearing something foreign and then reading the written translation."

Tatindod leaned forward and frowned, creating a few charming lines of age in her gentle face. "Hm…"

The maid came back with more of that vile alcohol, but at least it served to help me temporarily forget the miserable situation I was currently in.

After everyone took a few sips, Tatindod's expression livened up a bit, and then she finally found the right words to say, "The spirits speak through many means, a few of them being even dangerous to our minds, but I do believe it works as you say, that the 'brain' translates their language to us. I assume the 'words' they speak belong to this 'magical language'?"

"Correct," I reply with a triumphant smile. At least my knowledge wasn't going to be completely useless in this new world. "It's necessary to understand it to truly unlock the advantage of Wizardry spells: the grimoire, a collection of written spells that have been transcribed in the magical language, allowing them to be easily accessed at any time."

She gave me a beautiful but sad smile. "I apologize as I don't know anything significant about this 'magical language,' but you've given me much to ponder and investigate, so I might be able to help you in time."

I released a sigh and smiled back at her, which seemed to visibly irritate Forfta.

He's still a young boy, after all.

"It's enough to know that the language exists," I gracefully replied.

She tapped her cheek in a cute behavior and suggested, "Do you wish to talk to the spirits yourself? Perhaps you'd have a better understanding if you heard them."

I hid my embarrassment and politely declined, "I'd rather not. The last time I tried it ended horribly."

I was almost possessed. I definitely won't be doing it again with their crude, unsafe methods.

She nodded slowly, her charm sneaking into my heart. "Very well. I'll come to seek you once I know more of the magical language."

Without anything else that I needed to procure, I just asked the maids to take me back to my room.

 

"Silver Elder Sir Nishpa asked that you rest in your room until you're called for training," the older maid reported, then they left me alone.

I sighed in exhaustion and let the mask of calmness drop, then I waddled to my uncomfortable bed of furs and dropped heavily onto it.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME DARVA?! YOUR "EXPERIMENT" GOT YOURSELF ABDUCTED BY THE "VOID" WHILE I'M SHITTED INTO A WHOLE NEW WORLD, BY MYSELF!

I gripped the furs and imagined they were Darva's filthy breasts, then I squeezed, twisted, and tried to rip them off her body.

YOU GET ME INTO A FUCKING SHITTY, UNCIVILIZED, BARBARIC, PRIMITIVE WORLD COMPLETELY CHOKING WITH COCK-SUCKING, MAGGOT-BRAINED, WORM-DICKED, INSUFFERABLE THAUMATURGES!

I ground my teeth as I seethed in rage and whined, trying my best not to scream.

FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU…

I punched the furs as I cursed repeatedly until my arms tired out and exhaustion finally took me.

My girls, my Primes… I want them back, I want to feel their touch, their lips, their taste. I want to fuck them until they pass out, dripping cum from every hole.

Pain flared with every beat of my wounded heart.

I put so much work into them that I was certain they were the most powerful slaves that ever existed. I got so close to perfecting them, but now all that will be for nothing if they didn't survive the experiment.

Despair crept in and widened the wound.

They'd be too weak to recover without outside help, so only Ahael could save them, that is, if she didn't also get abducted into the void or summoned to another world.

The pain of being ripped away from my beloved slaves broke my heart in two, and that put tears in my eyes. That was the first time I cried ever since my parent's suicide after they got tired of immortality.

I have to get out of here. I have to return to Zabulen!

But then sadness quickly turned into anger as I thought about the injustice that was done to me. This fire gave me fuel, not for my muscles, but for my spirit and mind.

If I was summoned here, then maybe I can summon them, too. Or maybe if there's a way in, then I could find a way out, though I'm worried about that damnable Bedama interfering in the summoning.

A little hope wormed back into me.

The Thaumaturges will likely force me to fight, to "save" their forsaken land, so I have to find my footing in this world, then run away.

My hate for their kind gave me the resolve to exterminate them to the last divine-cock-sucking wretch, but then my pragmatism managed to retake control of my mind.

No, I don't have the regeneration treatment to extend my life anymore, so I also need to secure that as soon as possible.

I listed the resources required for the treatment inside my mind and became uneasy as most of them might not exist in this world.

I also need a lab somewhere safe from Kendriiey so that I can research in peace. If the Infernals turn out to be reasonable, I could even defect to their side in exchange for my knowledge, but considering how the Devil was described, I'm not sure they're reliable.

But then an idea took a hold of my line of thought.

I have to test my Slavery Magic here! If they don't have countermeasures to it, then I could take control of an entire country. If I can't easily acquire the resources for the regeneration treatment, then I might be forced to conquer a country, anyway.

Then I felt a chill as I realized something.

Wait, if they don't have countermeasures, I could just conquer the entire world.

An evil grin graced my red lips.

I'll do it. I'll kill every single one of those insufferable, judgmental Thaumaturges, then I'll have free reign to build what I need to reunite me with my beloved Primes.

But then I scowled as I imagined the type of work that was ahead of me.

It sucks that I hate Spatial Magic.

I sighed and organized my thoughts.

I have a few goals, now. First and most important, reunite with the Primes. Second, recreate the telomere regeneration treatment. Third, take over the world. Fourth, escape Kendriiey's grasp; fifth, survive the war with the infernal Infernals; sixth, gather more knowledge and power…

Seventh, find something to help me relax because this stress is going to ruin my beautiful face.

My mind immediately went to the two young maids that were assigned to me, but instead of getting an erection from imagining fucking them, my suspicions overwhelmed all other thoughts.

Those maids… they chose just two young women to accompany someone as dangerous as me throughout the estate. Either they're mentally retarded, or the maids are agents, and if they are, they should be reporting to the Royals right at this moment, telling them all they know about me.

I turned my scowl into a shrug and let my lust undress them inside my mind.

It couldn't be helped, really, but I hope that I at least get to fuck them because I know for sure that I've made them aroused.

 

Queen Brakallr Ledare

"Report," Brapersn ordered sternly, and I opened my eyes, forcefully overpowering the tiredness so that I could fulfill my duty.

The two female spies were kneeling before us, eager to share their results, and the hall felt awfully empty without the soldiers to populate it.

"Grand Wizard Farnezian shamelessly denuded himself in front of us," the first of the spies immediately started with a stern tone, but I noticed a faint smile on her lips, and that irritated me. "He immediately assumed a seductive demeanor, though he wasn't forceful. He even kissed us with such ease and skill that only an experienced man could have."

"Did you show attraction to him?" I interrogated them, narrowing my eyes in reproval.

They hesitated to answer, but the senior spy gathered her courage and admitted, "Yes… it was very hard to resist it as his body seemed perfect… for my-… our tastes."

"Remember whom you serve," I cautioned them, making my anger visible, then leaned back on my chair and allowed my body to relax again.

The two spies became stiff, and Brapersn let them boil in the tension for a moment before continuing, "Information about his past?"

"He's adept at keeping his emotions in check, so reading him is incredibly difficult," the junior spy quickly continued, glad that the reprimand was over.

"He's also claimed to be much older than he looks and seemed to be annoyed at being called 'child' by the Elder Sage," the senior spy expanded.

"And the both of you need to keep that in mind to not be deceived by his looks," Brapersn censured them again, though his tone was almost kind, almost.

They stiffly nodded in response, then Brapersn allowed them to continue.

Now the senior reported something curious, "He never willingly shared about his past, but he was certainly fixated in learning about a 'magical language,' which existed in his previous world and allowed him to cast 'Wizard' spells."

"Magical language"…? If we consider a ritual's symbology to be a "language," then…

The junior interrupted my thoughts, "He also showed some knowledge in handling melee weapons, but that's obviously not part of his main profession, though his body is strong enough to pass as a soldier."

I raised an eyebrow in thought. That could be his charm speaking through them again, but I was slightly intrigued that a mage could be that physically fit.

"Anything about his powers?" Brapersn changed the topic, and I wondered if he was feeling threatened by the "wonder mage."

"He's most definitely not a Sorcerer, though he could still feed mana into Flavorless orbs, and he easily broke a [Featherweight] monster core," the junior replied with mischievous delight. I'd like to have seen how Farnezian reacted to the feedback from a spell orb rupturing.

Interesting…

There was not much else to learn about him, so Brapersn went for the final topic, "What about [Bliss]?"

The senior's spy tone became humorless. "Inconclusive. He's responding to the triggers, but due to his skill in hiding emotions, we don't know how well it's affecting him."

I hummed then remarked, "Hm… considering he broke out of the [Stupor] spell during his summoning, we should assume it isn't very effective on him." And the two spies seemed to pale in fear as they realized how much more dangerous their job truly was.

"He's too intelligent. Kendriiey will have a hard time controlling him if [Bliss] isn't effective," Brapersn pointed out worriedly.

I waved my hand dismissively. "Let them suffer. As long as they don't know about [Bliss], Farnezian causing chaos will be in our favor." Then I turned my eyes to the spies. "Continue your job, but don't let yourself be fooled by the wiles of a seducer."

"Yes, your Highnesses," they replied in unison.

"Dismissed."