The maid retreated into the darkness.

In the shadow of the corner, there was another figure dressed in a maid's uniform, crouching quietly in the corner, occupied with some unknown task.

Faint glimmers flickered around her. Intricate, ancient runes sparkled like bubbles on the surface of water, repeating the process of arising and fading away over and over again.

"I didn't expect you to know that girl's preferences," a voice from the crouching figure, Number Six, broke the silence. "Is she also a target for your mission?"

"No, she isn't," replied Number Eight, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed, seemingly resting. "But she's Number Nine's target. And since Number Nine used to be my partner, I know a bit about her."

"Number Nine... I recall a failed mission..."

"That's right, that girl. She was counter-killed by Ariel, even though she was two whole levels above her."

"……."

Number Six stopped talking and focused on her task. Time ticked by slowly, until Number Eight finally grew restless and opened her eyes.

"How much longer will it takes? We don't have much time," she said.

"Almost there," Number Six responded, her face pale and drenched in sweat. Despite her exhaustion, she was completely focused on deciphering the runes, not pausing for a moment.

"This is, after all, something that the ‘Lion King’ Ron Campbell himself set up. While it's a massive structure covering the entire duke's estate, opening a breach silently and without alerting him isn't that easy."

"You really need to hurry," Number Eight said, her gaze fixed on the tightly shut door. "If Moen Campbell or Princess Celicia suddenly comes out, our mission will be a failure."

"I know, but I think there's enough time," Number Six replied. But then, her expression turned a little odd. "Those two... they're doing that kind of thing in the room right now."

……

Moen looked intently at the door like a devout believer yearning for a miracle.

Unfortunately, that miracle did not occur. His only savior at the moment, Ariel, was nowhere to be seen.

"So hot…" moaned Celicia in increasingly frequent intervals, suggesting she was moments away from waking up.

"We're screwed…" Moen muttered, covering his face and wiping away tears.

It seemed that today, no miracle would happen. Without the protagonist's arrival, the original storyline would turn into a bubble. And Moen's future would hurtle straight into the death storyline he had desperately tried to avoid.

In fact, it won't take that long, not even till that mystery one show up to end his life. The moment Celicia woke up, her first act would almost certainly be to kill him.

"Wait a second. She's been moaning that repeatedly. Why hasn't she actually woken up yet?" Moen, now slightly calmer, noticed a peculiar detail.

It was common knowledge that people waking from deep states of sleep—especially those induced by drugs or alcohol—might instinctively groan or moan a little. This was why Moen assumed Celicia was close to waking up.

But no one would moan this repeatedly before waking—unless they were having an erotic dream.

Celicia definitely wouldn't have an erotic dream, so there had to be some other reasons.

And furthermore…

"So hot…" Celicia muttered again.

Moen glanced toward the fireplace. Its flames continued to burn, but the room should have been cooler than normal, thanks to Celicia's earlier frost spell.

Even Moen, who had removed much of his clothing, felt the chill in the room. Yet Celicia, wearing only slightly more than he was, seemed to feel overly hot. Why?

Moaning.

Heat.

Could it be…

Gulp.

Moen swallowed hard as an outlandish thought popped into his mind.

To prove to himself that his immature thought was absurd, Moen cautiously moved closer to Celicia. Earlier, he had stayed at a distance, fearing she'd wake up and kill him.

Now closer, Celicia once again entered his sight, sprawled on the couch.

"No way…" Moen's heart sank at the sight.

"Ugh… so hot…" Celicia muttered again. Her eyes remained shut, clearly not yet awake, but her silvery lashes fluttered faintly. Her skin glowed with an unnatural flush, and her long, slender legs twitched restlessly. Her hands clawed about aimlessly, pulling at her already revealing gown, making it appear even more disheveled.

"No, no, no. It can't be what I'm thinking."

"This has to just be some side effect of the drug. Yes, a side effect of the drug!"

"A cold water bath can relieve her from the side effects. That’s how it works in novels, right?"

"Celicia, hold on! I'll take you to find some cold water!"

Completely flustered, Moen reached out, intending to scoop Celicia up and carry her to the bathroom to cool her off.

But he failed.

A slender, pale hand shot up and caught hold of his wrist. Celicia had woken at some point and was now staring directly at him.

Her eyes initially burned with fiery anger, but that anger quickly dissipated, replaced by a rabbit-like gaze of confusion.

"Uh… Your Highness, let me explain," Moen began, his voice trembling. "You drank too much tea earlier and got drunk. I was just about to take you to the bathroom to sober up."

"Since you're awake, I won't bother you any longer. I'll head out now."

Moen attempted to sneak away, realizing that the situation was spiraling out of control. Though he tried not to believe it, he was now fully aware of what was happening after seeing Celicia's behavior.

It was an aphrodisiac!

That mysterious shopkeeper's "little gift" turned out to be an aphrodisiac!

What the hell? So that's what they meant by "amazing effects"? Drug plus aphrodisiac? What a scam artist.

Damn it! Refund!

Not today. He had to escape!

If anything "wonderful yet not at all wonderful" were to happen here with Celicia, Moen couldn’t imagine a scenario in which he'd survive.

At worst? Execution of death by thousand cuts!

But unfortunately…

There was no escape.

Celicia's slender hand gripped Moen's wrist with an ironclad force. Though her hand appeared delicate and soft, Moen felt as if it was locked in a vice.

The sheer strength difference between them was overwhelming.

She wasn’t letting him go.

Escape?

Don't even think about that!

"Uh… Your Highness, please calm down. You must calm down! With your willpower, I’m sure you can pull through!" Moen could only pin his hopes on Celicia herself at the moment.

Celicia’s eyes alternated between moments of clarity and confusion. But even in her clear moments, Moen could clearly see her anger steadily morphing into a different kind of flame.

"Stay strong, Your Highness! Don’t give in to some trivial drug!" Moen cheered. "You can—"

Bang!

Moen’s pep talk was cut off.

The world spun around him.

When he came back to his senses, he realized, horrifyingly, that he and Celicia had switched places.

Moen now lay sprawled on the couch.

And Celicia, with her voluptuous figure, was sitting atop him, her posture as alluring as it was intimidating.