Chapter 170: Weslin Plays Squash (2/2)

‘As a sage with the prospects of becoming a grand sage, how could I be defeated by such a banal mind control spell!’

‘Actually…all that talk about a sage’s psychic reservoir…that was just me messing around. In truth, the reason I was able to resist its mind control was because the Mark of Envy activated.’ The Mark of Envy (TL: the tattoo he gained when he evolved.) was the hallmark of an illusion demon and had a mesmerizing effect on living creatures.

Illusion demons were experts in psychic magic as well but unlike the demons, an evil eye’s ability was to directly usurp control of a person’s body. To be exact, it forcefully severed the connection between an enemy and his soul and asserted control over that body. In contrast, an illusion demon’s magicks were focused primarily on illusions; spells that disrupted the senses and caused hallucinations.

‘Hah, you picked the wrong devil to mess with, to think you actually tried to control this big brother, how foolish!’

Almost a second after he tried to control me, my mark automatically activated itself and dispelled his control over me. For his efforts, he was promptly rewarded with a decisive kick of my feet and the same horrific backlash he experienced just moments ago. Once more, the meatball rolled around in pain in a bid to distract himself from the pain.

“So this is the bast*rd that attacked me just now?” Looking at its pained figure, I was just about to give it a couple more kicks for good measure when Weslin came up to me with that question.

Judging from the tone of her voice, she must have had some lingering resentment over the fact that she was mind controlled… ‘come to think of it, anyone would be uncomfortable with the way she embarrassed herself just now, even more so because I even pulled out the [Habona] card on her.’

‘By now, everyone probably heard of her special relationship with Habona…oh, what I meant to say was, Weslin’s one-sided hope that she could be in a special relationship with Habona.’

Without a doubt, that had to be a stain on her reputation, for all we know by tomorrow, no, perhaps even half a day later, that bit of gossip would’ve spread like wildfire amongst the other demons and devils and spawn a multitude of versions. After all, everyone was a little bored in this dreary hellhole.

“Hey, make sure you don’t kill him…*thwack* I still have…*boing* a lot to…*thwack* ask it…”Seeing her approach the meatball eyes fuming and feet stomping, I hurriedly step in to remind her not to go overboard. However, before I could even finish my sentence, Weslin batted the rolling meatball away with a flick of her tail as if it was some kind of baseball and sent it bouncing against the wall. Flick, bounce, flick, bounce…thus this scene continuously played out with no end in sight.

‘This…it was as if she was playing squash ball.’

“Hey…Weslin…make sure not to kill him…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take my time with him.” As she said that, her head turned around for a brief moment after which her lips curled up into a sinister grin. Then, without missing a beat, she turned around once more and flicked her tail, striking the head of the evil eye just as it bounced back. “I’ll make sure he has a breath left in him.”

“…” ‘At least you remembered to do so, must’ve been hard on you.’

Finally, Weslin’s venting came to an end and I was able to question the meatball. However, its condition wasn’t really stable by now…or rather, it was about to die any moment.

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A couple of its feelers were broken and its bouncy head was leaking some kind of disgusting green fluid. No matter how one looked at it, it gave off the impression of a dying meatball.

“About that…weren’t you a little…violent with your venting?”

“Hmm, I think so too.” Seeing the strange look I gave her, she was slightly embarrassed as well. I distinctly remembered telling her to not to kill him, that meant beating him half to death not as good as dead!

Thankfully, Manasha had some experience with such matters so she promptly had some soul flames delivered to the evil eye. The moment she did so, the evil eye practically rolled itself onto the soul flames and began absorbing them. A minute or so later, its condition was noticeably better. What were a bunch of bleeding wounds just a while ago had completely closed up and it seemed like a perfectly serviceable meatball once more.

‘Mhm, if Weslin wants to play some more squash, perhaps…I could let her have another match.’

‘Sigh, why am I stuck with these bunch of potatoes who don’t know how to hold back? Don’t they know that I still have a lot of questions to force out of him…oops, I just said something bad, didn’t I?’

Now that it was interrogation time, Majosha took the initiative to restrain the evil eye and prevent it from moving. As for Harlow, he had the self-awareness to hide in a corner to avoid any accidents.

Like the lizardmen, the demonic werewolves were susceptible to psychic control.

“What language do these evil eyes speak?” Noticing its lack of a mouth, I was a little stumped as to how to proceed with the interrogation, like a rat trying to figure out a way to drag a turtle.

(TL: The turtle hides in its shell so the rat has no way of tying a rope around it and dragging it along.)

Yet in midst of my confusion, a strange voice that sounded neither male nor female entered my mind directly. This method of communication wasn’t like Ferti’nier’s method communicating directly with the soul. Instead, it employed a psychic means to deliver its message to the mind without going through the ears.

“Esteemed Lust Demon, what enquiries does your excellency wish answered?”

“You…you can talk?” I stared wide-eyed at the evil eye for what felt like half a day. Having inspected its spherical body for a while, I truly couldn’t find anything that resembled a mouth on it. Even when it absorbed those souls, it did so through contact. Its feelers would extend and suck on the soul flames as if they were a pipe.