Netori: Reborn as the Human Aphrodisiac

<Name: Suri di Achai>

<Age: 200>

<Gender: Female>

<Race: Half-Elemental>

<Charm: Stunning>

<System Title: None>

<Templar rank: first level of the Golden Palace>

<Sid Level: 0 units>

<Mutation: Blueflame Elemental (first class)>

<Sid Flame: Desertic Stonefire (Locked)>

Wearing a skin-tight dress open at the chest, with dark-blue hair that dropped over her wide hips and shapely butt, the tanned skin of the desert's folks, and a mystical pair of flaming eyes, Headmistress Achai no doubt ranked among the most attractive women of the region, a stunning beauty whose mystical charm kept thousands spellbound.

But faced with Mithras' pheromones, that charm proved ineffective, outright overwhelmed by Mithras' pheromones. Headmistress Achai trembled on Mithras' lap, her cheeks flushing as her body heated up and her thighs clenched hard.

Too close. At this distance, Mithras' pheromones became an irresistible tool of persuasion, condemning the headmistress to spreading her legs if she didn't put distance between them.

"Alright…I will give you a Referral Token so you don't have to give me your name. What you do in the Houses of Paradise isn't my business. Now release me so I can give you the token." Realizing that if she didn't get away, she would soon be smooching Mithras' crotch, Headmistress Achai agreed to his request, turning sideways so she stopped looking at his lips.

"So quick to cooperate…almost makes me sad." Though the pervert in him refused to waste an opportunity to collect on a beauty's debts, Mithras had a sense of priorities, and knew he didn't have time to play with Lady Achai yet.

The python's grip on the headmistress' limbs loosened, enabling her to move at will.

This was a dangerous situation. With their current proximity, Suri could chop off Mithras' head in the blink of an eye. Of course, the likelihood that Nagini or the top pythons would strike faster was much higher. But this didn't stop Suri from rethinking her options.

Two colossal python heads appeared out of nowhere, flanking the headmistress from left and right, and she dropped all sinister thoughts, looking at Mithras with a wry smile.

"The…Pyrogasmic Genesis is the mark of the Red God's inner circle. Even in the Red Paradise, few carry it. Your Excellency is the real deal. I don't know how our temple has offended you, but I will do my best to make up for it." Suri said in a soft and humble tone, tapping her storage ring, and summoning a smaller amethyst stone ring which she pressed into Mithras' hand.

The sight of the theocracy's headmistress lowering her head and submitting so completely was no doubt a spectacle that the lords, priests and kings of the region would pay millions for.

Sadly, Mithras couldn't enjoy it, and after putting the amethyst ring on his finger, stood up.

At first, Headmistress Achai heaved a sigh of relief. But then she remembered how disastrous the situation was, and her mind buzzed nonstop.

"Wait! Is that really all you want? I know that in matters of the faith, you're likely better equipped than us, but our theocracy has collected a variety of treasures across its millennia of existence, some of which could interest you," Suri blurted out, fearing that Mithras would leave with the pythons and flames.

"It's just that I've already stolen the valuables you kept on site. Pythons, flames, crystals, tomes, elixirs, relics, name it. The pythons and flames are just the stuff you've noticed so far. You got nothing left that interests me...materially speaking at least," Mithras replied in a shy and honest tone, blushing a little as he spoke.

Headmistress Achai's jaw dropped, her eyes trembling as she scrambled to check the theocracy's inventory through a crystal card that stored the info.

In standard theocracies, the headmaster led the templars and handled most of the administrative work while the grand priest commanded the priests, gurus, and overall faction.

It was a bit like the difference between the head of government and the head of state. So, while the Grand Priest had the final say in most matters, Suri's influence wasn't inferior to his.

The headmistress always took pride in her position and the influence she earned through decades of hard work. But with influence comes responsibility, and as she scanned the theocracy's various inventories through her crystal card, Suri was shocked to see that many of the weapons, utility tools, books, elixirs, plants, crystals, herbs, and what not, had been robbed clean.

Under their nose, this man had vandalized thousands of years of accumulation. And he was very neat about it too, leaving neither damage nor even a trace of his passage.

A true Master Thief at work.

'How…did he do it?' The Red Cloud Theocracy didn't have the Gurus that the Angra Theocracy did, so their defensive barriers and mechanisms weren't as sophisticated. Still, they should have been more than enough to deal with the most skilled thieves and warlocks of the regions.

Sadly, there was an important issue: the Red Cloud Theocracy built an entire underground city to give its pythons more freedom, and to keep their various missions secret, made it so they didn't trigger alarms while leaving or entering barriers.

Consequently, anyone who can hide inside a Red Cloud Python can treat the Red Cloud Theocracy like their backyard—and that's part of what the Second Secret enabled Mithras to do.

Headmistress Achai's arms dropped, her upper body wavering as she tried to process her faction's losses.

"Nice doing business with you. With that said, bye!" Not bothered in the slightest, Mithras gave the headmistress a theatrical bow, then went on his way.

"No…wait, wait, wait!

This isn't right. You can't leave us like this. How will we survive? At this point you might as well erase us from the map!

There is something…there is still something! The Grand Priest…" Headmistress Achai rattled off, but as she reached this point, she cut herself mid-talk, gawking at what she was about to say.

"The Grand Priest what…" Mithras, however, refused to let go, and with the fires of curiosity in his eyes, the Human Aphrodisiac raised the headmistress' chin, again pressuring her with his delicious pheromones.

'Screw it. At this point we just have to try our best.'

"What's the easiest way…for a Guru to increase their Sid level?" Suri asked in a cryptic tone, making Mithras tilt his head with a smile.

"Absorb an Inner Flame, the higher the class the better." Mithras replied.

"Exactly. But in the Purple Dawn Continent where the lowest of Inner Flame is a priceless treasure, where will you find disposable, high class Inner Flames? You can't!

Either you go deep into the Sanctuary and lose your life for wealth, or you aim for the second-best thing: vital essence, also known as life force.

Life force easily converts into Sid units. In theory, a Guru can drain any defenseless person's lifeforce and convert it into Sid: a practice known as Immolating. But since without a suitable mantra or ritual, Immolating often backfires, we branded that practice as demonism and banned it altogether.

But what's so wrong with using it on criminals? On war enemies? On those who would destroy all that we stand for given the opportunity?

12 years ago, when Gaiseric's arrogance led us to invade his nation, the vicious king built a special militia with 50,000 of the most hard-nosed and unyielding men the nation, using them as meat-shield vanguards and siege defenders in the most brutal battles of the war.

By the end of the war, only 1,000 remained, who all died in defense of the capital: they were known as the Last Line." Headmistress Achai explained, but little did she know that, as the words "Last Line" crossed her lips, Mithras' heart skipped a beat, his eyes trembling and his fists shaking underneath his large, scarlet sleeves.

"The state would have its citizens believe that the soldiers of the Last Line all perished in defense of the capital. But the truth is nowhere near that glorious.

For a motley crew of mainly ordinary folks to have given the Red Cloud Theocracy's elite soldiers that much trouble was nothing short of a disgrace. The Grand Priest couldn't let them get away with it, so he made that group's sacrifice a fundamental requirement for the peace treaty.

Gaiseric couldn't refuse, and personally led the Last Line's 1,000 veterans into getting captured by the Grand Priest…who immolated them all in a king-class ritual—improving his Sid level by over 5,000 units instantly!

If you agree to negotiate with the Grand Priest, you can learn that rit…" Headmistress Achai hadn't finished pleading her case when Mithras grabbed her shoulders, dusting them off with gentle swipes before raising his hood and revealing his purple dragon eyes.

"So, you're telling me that…the 1,000 heroes of the Last Line…didn't die defending the capital as advertised…but were instead handed over to the Red Cloud Theocracy…and sacrificed by the Grand Priest?

Are you sure this is correct? 100%?" Mithras asked in a smooth and disarming tone that gave no clue about the overwhelming burst of rage swelling inside his chest.

"Of course. Their officers' skulls are still lining up in the Grand Priest's courtyard. The rest got ground into bone powder and smoked by the elder priests. Among the leaders of the theocracy…it's really not a secret.

We tend to forget that type of horror story, but there was a middle-aged man with a weird name who kept begging the Grand Priest to spare his children.

The pain from months of starvation and torture, it seems, had made him delirious, causing him to see his children in danger.

Amused by the situation, the Grand Priest told him…that if he threw himself into the ritual pyre and survived, he would spare his children. The man obeyed without delay, throwing himself into the ritual pyre like a complete idiot.

Safe to say he didn't survive." Smithen by Mithras' voice, eyes, touch, breath...all of him, really, Headmistress Achai blurted out, wondering why this Red Envoy cared so much for irrelevant variables.

"Aaargh!" But at that time, a burning sensation ripped through the headmistress' right shoulder, and with a yelp, she looked at her right shoulder, noticing barely noticeable bite marks left by minuscule fangs.

Red patches spread across the headmistress' previously spotless skin, and as she realized she'd just been poisoned by a Red Cloud Python's blood-evaporating venom, the headmistress passed out—falling limp in Mithras' arms.

The Human Aphrodisiac lowered her on the sofa, standing up the moment next.

Mithras' sclera burst into divine flames, and he vanished, relying on the Second Secret to shrink himself to the atomic scale and silently blitz through the Red Cloud Theocracy.

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