Felix had a strange dream where many women danced around him. Each woman had an alluring and exotic dance style, ranging from seductive and captivating to pure and bashful, like enchantresses that could charm the life out of a man. The difference this time was that all these bare-bottomed women were one person, the succubus Vivian…
Awakening in his room, the air still filled with lingering exotic fragrance, Felix couldn't distinguish the time outside his rain-streaked window.
Opening the door, Vivian, as usual, was kneeling on the ground, trembling, her hands raised high holding a whip…
Felix couldn't help but laugh and cry at the same time because a ridiculous thought surged in his heart. He began to wonder if this succubus, who sneaked into his room to create those erotic dreams, was actually seeking punishment.
Felix was curious but didn't ask. He found it all very amusing. He enjoyed anything interesting, perhaps a bit of a guilty pleasure.
"Oh! Smack! Smack!"
Taking the whip, Felix's handsome yet sinister face bore a playful smile. He lifted Vivian's chin with the whip, gazing into her deep blue eyes, then raised the whip and lashed her three times hard.
The succubus trembled on the ground, the three whip marks distinctly visible on her soft skin.
Was it Felix's illusion, or did he see a hint of relief hidden beneath her trembling, in those deep blue eyes?
Succubi are natural actors, and no one, not even the gods, can fathom their thoughts. After a simple meal, Felix checked the time on his pocket watch. It was two-thirty in the afternoon by magical time, meaning he had been in a deep sleep for sixteen hours.
Opening his wardrobe, Felix took out a dark brown mage's robe and draped it over himself. He didn't yet have the means to create his own battle mage robe since its creation required not only magic rune engraving but also high-level tailoring skills.
Felix sewing with a rune-threaded needle was a far worse option than death.
The material requirements for a battle mage robe aren't too demanding—just finding fabric or leather with high tensile strength and elemental fusion capability.
Battle mage robes don't need much in terms of defense but require high standards for elemental fusion. After all, materials' magical receptivity is much weaker than flesh and blood, and finding fabric that can fuse with rune-threaded elemental power isn't easy.
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Spellcasters are proud and vain; asking them to fight in a piece of animal skin is like asking them to die.
Generally, spellcasters' requirements for a battle mage robe are simple: first, it must look cool; second, still cool; and third, always cool!
Battle mage robes are typically limited to defensive functions. Those with offensive capabilities are exceedingly rare, so spellcasters' demand for them isn't as strong as for wands and spellbooks.
A spellcaster's complete combat form has a highest-grade standard, referred to as "Mobile Artillery" and "Human Weapon."
Firstly, a powerful magic wand in the right hand, a brick-thick spellbook in the left, a stylish battle mage robe to wear, a necklace can be optional since it's a hassle to activate, and the shoes must be high-quality with a flight enchantment. At the very least, the pants should have one too.
Most importantly, all ten fingers must wear instant-cast magic rings!
Of course, this entire outfit wouldn't cost less than a million Caesar gold coins. Make no mistake, being a mage is all about the money!
However, this outfit has its limitations, suitable only for spellcasters below the Golden Domain. Once power reaches a certain level, all that's needed is just a single magic wand.
Felix went to the magic laboratory, and as he expected, the anesthesia had worn off. The ogre shaman had awakened.
Lying across the experimental table, its hands and feet were bound by thumb-thick steel chains. A corner of the curtain, torn off, was stuffed in its mouth. It struggled in vain, unable to move the steel chains, only managing to shake its head and make muffled groaning sounds.
Sensing Felix's arrival, the ogre shaman's ugly face showed a hint of fear, seemingly aware of who had inflicted so many wounds on it.
Wearing a black cloak, Felix put on gloves and forcefully pressed the ogre shaman's head down, then slowly sliced open its forehead with a scalpel.
The ogre shaman, sensing what was about to happen, showed even more fear on its face. It struggled fiercely, but Felix's pale hand pressed heavily on its head, pinning it to the table.
The puppet creation had now reached its final phase. The key decision was whether to retain the creature's intelligence for taming or to erase its memory and directly sign a slavery contract.
Felix had no intention of taming an ogre. He pressed his hand on the ogre shaman's head, channeling a strong mental force to impact its brain.
Traditionally, Felix should have erased the ogre shaman's memory before signing a slavery contract. However, this was a troublesome process for him and also consumed a lot of his magical power.
He chose an alternative method: directly attacking the ogre shaman's brain with mental energy, similar to causing a concussion, to destroy its memory, turning it into a complete idiot.
With Felix's immense mental power, he avoided the low-level mistake of causing the material to go berserk and die.
As Felix intensified the mental attack, the fear on the ogre shaman's face gradually vanished, transitioning into a state of frenzy. Its body began to tremble, and the trembling grew more violent.
Eventually, its eyes rolled back, its foul-smelling mouth foaming.
After completing the procedure, Felix cut his index finger with the scalpel, letting a drop of blood fall on the ogre's forehead, and began chanting the enslavement contract incantation.