When the dawn’s light shone into the mansion, the Nightmare lay on the bed, eyes wide open, contemplating many things. For followers of Bazatous, facing the great Father is an unparalleled honor, but after calming down, she realized one issue.
The Father seemed uninterested in her and Lindong; He came for Ethan.
The Nightmare murmured this name softly.
Clearly, this was beyond what any potion or Enchantment Spell could achieve. Could it be that this young man is actually a succubus?
The Nightmare was startled by her own thought but found herself increasingly convinced.
Succubi are creations of the Master of Demons, Sincaro. They closely resemble humans, and the stronger ones can transform into the appearance that most suits the target’s aesthetic. Yet, on the other hand, they are exceedingly dangerous creatures; those who are seduced by a succubus will eventually have their souls offered to Sincaro.
Usually willingly, still smiling when being sacrificed.
She had seen many such sacrifices in the bottomless abyss.
The Nightmare fell into deep thought. Now, to speak of her feelings toward Ethan?
Last night, she was too focused on Lindong and Rowena and didn’t fully consider this question. However, when she faced her own heart, the answer filled her with unease.
At least she didn’t dislike him.
Even after Ethan took her students, her subordinates, and the attention of the Father, she still didn’t find herself disliking Ethan and even considered him trustworthy.
As a member of the Elder Council, she moved into the mansion provided by the Empire’s royalty without any concern that it might be a trap and that someone might come to assassinate her in the quiet of the night.
The Nightmare lifted the covers, got out of bed.
Upon leaving her room, she smelled the aroma of cream, bacon, and baked bread. The servants had prepared breakfast for her and greeted her with a smile as they introduced the breakfast menu. The warm morning light on the Nightmare made her a bit dazed.
The current capital seemed safer than the mansion she had in the abyss.
She suddenly recalled her experience at the Witch Career-Change Registration and understood why some witches were willing to settle in the capital. If one could pass the registration review, the capital indeed seemed like a good place.
Now there are store subsidy policies in place. With her ability, opening a divination shop or dream therapy store in the capital shouldn’t be a problem.
The Nightmare can easily enter others’ dreams, which is the origin of her title; however, this doesn’t mean she is limited to creating terrifying things in dreams. Her ability is filled with endless possibilities, allowing people to see deceased relatives, estranged lovers, or even altering the dream scenes according to their invitations.
She absent-mindedly chewed on the bread smeared with sour cream, imagining the opening of her dream therapy store in the capital. She believed customers would be endless because she had experienced it herself—freely controlling dreams could indeed become addictive. But what would be a reasonable price for one dream therapy session?
Even at a higher price, the Empire’s nobility would gladly pay.
After all, there are many things in this world that can only be realized in dreams, even for those high and mighty nobles...
The Nightmare snapped out of it, pinching her hand in punishment. She was a loyal follower of the Father, a member of the Dream Erosion Elder Council; how could she seriously consider opening a store in the capital?
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Though the Father had not reprimanded her, she must take this as a warning. At the same time, the idea of "Ethan being a succubus" grew more convincing in her mind. She believed it was a novel, unrecorded type of succubus, different from those low-grade species that toyed with desire, and Ethan’s abilities seemed far more powerful than theirs, possibly enveloping the entire city and even the Empire.
During the banquet, she observed for a long time, noting that everyone at the gala took pride in exchanging a few words with Ethan.
The pain in her hand snapped the Nightmare out of her store-opening fantasy, making her realize one thing: She could not linger in the capital any longer. If she stayed a few more days, she might genuinely submit an application at the Witch Career-Change Registration and further investigate the store subsidy policy.
Her inner turmoil was intense, with that devilish whisper ceaselessly hovering in her mind.
Wouldn’t that be just fine?
If this continued, she’d eventually be persuaded.
She suspected Ethan might be the minotaur chief, first stealing her students and subordinates, and now even trying to challenge her faith.
"I must go see Ethan."
After finishing breakfast and adjusting her mindset, the Nightmare, filled with resolve, requested this from the maid.
The reason was clear — with the festival impending, they must quickly return to the bottomless abyss to prepare more thoroughly, and once back in the city, she would bring Lindong back to Dream Erosion.
"Mr. Ethan is waiting for you in the Monster Community."
Another peculiar term she had never heard before.
The mansion’s maid instructed the guards on something, and shortly after, a guard in light armor wheeled an electric wheelchair to her.
This marked her second day in the capital, and the Nightmare was finally experiencing firsthand the sensation of riding an electric wheelchair.