Forced To Become The Devil’S Succubus Lover Chapter 2
byChapter 2 Betrayal 1
Below the Holy Temple, as the crowd grew, so did the noise.
Su Sheng had been busy all night. During this time, he had tried countless possibilities. He even called in a Temple staff member with the mildest symptoms, but the potion dripped onto them had no effect.
“How about this time? Do you feel anything?”
Su Sheng shook the potion bottle, his dark eyes fixed on the little girl in front of him. She wore a pink, bud-shaped dress, looked like a doll, and had a pair of strikingly different cat ears.
Talia shook her head.
With the movement, her cat ears trembled slightly.
This scene, cute enough to melt hearts, only deepened the heaviness in his own. The potion bottle in his hand felt like a thousand-pound weight.
Su Sheng said nothing, turning back to the wooden table.
Six hours later, scattered reagent bottles covered the wooden table. He wrote furiously, seemingly having some ideas for the curse-lifting formula, but a closer look revealed that the paper was filled entirely with crossed-out potion names.
The clock above ticked away. Every time a potion was made during this period, the time was recorded. In these six hours, he had produced five potions. It was important to note that the average Mage on the Continent of Light took about three days to produce one potion with magical properties.
But it was useless. None of these potions could solve the problem. A wave of frustration surged in his heart. Su Sheng resisted the urge to pull his hair and continued flipping through the data.
Self-pity would solve nothing, and the only thing he could do now was find a way to concoct the antidote.
Talia asked quietly, fearfully, “Saint Son, will we get better?”
Su Sheng’s hand, hidden beneath the table, gripped the pen, loosening and tightening repeatedly. Only when Talia spoke again did he turn his head, rub the little girl’s long hair, and say hoarsely, “Yes, you will.”
Talia sobbed softly twice and nodded.
Outside the window, there was chaos, and the faint sound of people calling for the Saint Son could be heard. Inside the pharmacy, however, a silence permeated the air. The hour hand ticked, and even subtle breathing could be easily heard.
Su Sheng stopped writing and walked to the window. Just then, he heard three drumbeats.
Femon had arrived!
“Talia, watch this place.” He put down his pen and hurried away.
Talia behind him rushed up from the sofa, grabbed the white robe from the hanger, and chased after him to drape it over Su Sheng’s back, but the white robe slipped off.
Talia looked somewhat flustered: “Saint Son, I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. It’s cold outside in the morning.”
Su Sheng’s expression softened. He hung the white robe back up. “Thank you, but I’m only going out for a moment.”
Talia knew the Saint Son’s temperament, so she ran back to the sofa and sat obediently: “Your Highness, please go. I won’t let anyone disturb this place.”
Su Sheng hummed in acknowledgment, took one last look at Talia, and then left in a hurry.
Su Sheng arrived at the Holy Altar. He saw Femon, holding the drum, standing in the crowd, being jostled by the masses.
The area beneath the Holy Altar was packed with people. Even the flower beds normally used for rituals were occupied. In this environment, it seemed that even the worship of the God of Light was no longer so important.
People’s faces were filled with panic over turning into demons and fear of the future. Arguments and noise were incessant. Everyone was venting their anxiety to those nearby, even though the Temple staff had intensified control—every Temple employee held a weapon and would violently stop any disputes.
Even so, there were still more than a dozen incidents to handle every moment.
It was too chaotic. If the people’s emotions were not calmed down, greater trouble would surely erupt.
Su Sheng walked quickly to the railing, stopping at the point closest to the crowd. He cast an amplification spell on himself, then spoke:
“Please be quiet.”
The voice belonging to the Saint Son rang out. The effect of this sentence was like a tranquilizer. The noisy crowd instantly fell silent. Everyone turned their heads to look at the person standing on the Holy Altar.
Su Sheng’s eyes were calm. He was naturally a cold person, but at this moment, he used a strange and soothing voice to promise the populace:
“My dear subjects, I know that you have suffered greatly from this curse these past few days, but please trust me—Norton Similias—I will surely find a way to lift the curse.”
As soon as the words fell, the crowd seemed to explode. Some faces showed hope, some were excited, some had trembling lips, and some shouted, “Great Saint Son!” However, there was also a group of people who looked at Su Sheng with questioning eyes, and their voices were undoubtedly the loudest.
—Why should we listen to him?
—What ability does he have to oppose the Demon King?
—What if the curse isn’t lifted after three days?
—How will he bear his mistake? What if he abandons us after three days?
—Yes! What then?
A cacophony of questions poured into Su Sheng’s ears.
He glanced below, and his staff struck the ground heavily: “Please listen to me. Do you not believe me?”
His tone was shaky at first, but he cleared his throat and asked in a voice so calm it was almost indifferent: “Who was it that defeated the Demon King?”
Someone below shouted: “It was the Saint Son.”
He asked again: “If that is the case, do you still question me?”
In the midst of a silent pause, he solemnly promised in a steady voice: “If you believe I am worthy of being the Saint Son, you must also believe that I will never abandon you. We once defeated the Demon King together, and in the future, we will overcome everything together, including this curse from the Demon King.”
Someone below asked again: “Then, Saint Son, how long will it take you to resolve our curse?”
Su Sheng looked at that person and said solemnly: “Please give me two days.”
…
Could he really successfully develop the antidote in two days? Su Sheng didn’t know; the probability was low. But Su Sheng could only say this.
He took a deep breath, held it, and slowly exhaled.
Now, the most important thing was to hurry back and research the antidote.
“Norton.”
Su Sheng’s body stiffened, and the hand gripping the staff tightened slightly. What had to come, came.
Although somewhat reluctant, Su Sheng slowly turned around and asked, “What is it?”
Even though Femon was struggling to keep his expression normal, his voice inevitably betrayed some worry: “Time is running out. Can you really find a way to lift the curse?”
“Perhaps,” Su Sheng said, carelessly flicking dust from his cuff.
“Answer me.” Femon stared intently into his eyes. “Be serious.”
“It’s difficult.” After a moment, he softly uttered two words.
“Then why don’t you tell them the truth…”
Femon’s voice was slightly hoarse. Su Sheng knew what he was about to say, but he also knew Femon must have guessed his concerns, so he didn’t respond.
After a long silence, Femon said, “I understand. I will help you.”
Su Sheng was anxious to return to researching the antidote. Seeing Femon agree, he hummed and turned to leave. He left too hastily, failing to notice Femon’s gradually twisting expression.
.
Back in the pharmacy, Talia was still sitting obediently. Aside from looking a little uneasy, everything else was normal.
With only half a day remaining until the two-day deadline, Su Sheng was immersed in making potions and didn’t notice that Talia, who had been brought in to test the medicine, was secretly called out again.
A conversation drifted from the stairwell.
“The three-day deadline is approaching. We must hand over the Saint Son to the Demon King.”
“This… isn’t right, is it?”
“What’s wrong with it? If we don’t hand over the Saint Son, we will all die when the three days are up!”
“But he is the Saint Son!”
“So what if he’s the Saint Son? For the future of the Kingdom, we must do this!”