The moment the words left Doris's lips, she knew she had made a terrible mistake. Her golden fish tail lashed out, striking the sea surface and sending spray flying with a soft splash.
It was in the midst of that cascading spray that her figure suddenly went translucent. Even though Lucian's spiritual field and Natasha's willpower had been locked onto her the entire time, they both felt a sudden emptiness — watching her become transparent without warning, dissolve without warning, like thin snow meeting the blazing July sun.
In nearly an instant, Doris had melted away entirely, merging with the ocean. White foam churned across the surface of the sea, shimmering against the pale, pallid sunlight.
Lucian's spiritual field could no longer detect any trace of Doris's aura. It was as though she had truly become one with this stretch of ocean — or perhaps every tiny bubble of foam was her.
One by one, the bubbles burst. The white across the deep blue surface was on the verge of vanishing completely when a voice drifted from Lucian's lips — ethereal, labored, as if it came from another world altogether:
"Scepter of Space-Time!"
The surrounding environment trembled inexplicably. A scepter of brilliant but not blinding light coalesced in Lucian's hand. With a gentle tap of its tip, the entire stretch of sea began rippling with shimmering luminescence, like a freshwater lake under the night sky.
Those waves of light were like the space-time continuum itself — layered and overlapping, cordoning off dozens of kilometers of ocean from the world beyond. If one concentrated carefully, one would find that the sea beneath, hundreds of meters below, was imperceptible — because it existed in a different space-time altogether.
Within the space-time prison, the ocean rocked gently. The deep blue carried a faint melancholy. Suddenly, the water in one area surged upward and solidified into a translucent, sapphire-like "statue." Then the statue's face grew clearer — it was Doris, her golden tail leaping free of the water as well.
Doris fixed her cerulean eyes on Lucian and Natasha, lightly biting her lip without a word, as though weighing something.
"I'm a good-natured person by disposition. I generally don't enjoy fighting with others or engaging in unnecessary slaughter. I'd hope you won't force me to do things I'd rather not do." Lucian's smile was warm, but his gaze was anything but gentle.
Doris was no mage. She had no further bizarre escape techniques at her disposal, and she certainly didn't want to fight a Lucian whose strength so obviously crushed her own — that would give her barely a ten percent chance of survival. It was a gamble that someone like her, a mermaid who cherished singing and the freedom of roaming the open seas, simply could not accept. So she gave a slight nod. "If you want to know about the 'Azure Gate,' I can tell you."
She silently cursed herself — she had been so absorbed in her singing. If she had noticed these two humans a little sooner, she would have had plenty of time to flee rather than ending up in this predicament.
"To ensure the truth of your words, I'd ask that you sign a magical contract with me, Lady Doris." Lucian maintained that same standard, polite smile.
"A contract? Devil — I would rather die than sign a soul-selling contract!" A storm of fury churned in Doris's cerulean eyes, and the surrounding environment darkened noticeably in response. The sky turned heavy and oppressive overhead; the sea went utterly still, as if gearing up for a catastrophic eruption.
She had heard that certain humans with peculiar tastes harbored unusual desires toward mermaids. The vast majority of mermaids could never transform into humans or shed their tails, so she truly would rather self-destruct than surrender meekly — if her desperate act could at least grievously wound an evil mage, it would be worth it.
Lucian chuckled softly. "This contract contains no soul-selling provisions. It merely guarantees one thing: if you tell a lie, I will know immediately. And if you later reveal my whereabouts or my destination, I will sense that as well."
Under normal circumstances, no one would sign such an obviously lopsided contract, and the devils, false gods, and other entities who served as "notaries" might well refuse to provide such guarantees. But the situation at hand left Doris no room for excess choices.
She spoke with difficulty. "Let me see the contract first."
Lucian produced a contract sheet made from elven bark and pressed his right hand against it, running his fingers gently over the surface. Silver-white light immediately flowed across the paper.
When his hand withdrew, several dozen lines of arcane, hard-to-decipher clauses had appeared on the contract.
Doris caught the contract Lucian tossed to her and read through it carefully. She found that as long as she did not lie and did not reveal that they were heading to the "Azure Gate," the contract would place absolutely no binding obligation on her. Of course, should she violate this condition, she would suffer punishment from the "Atomic Universe" — potentially death itself.
"The Atomic Universe..." Doris glanced at Lucian. Why was the notary of the contract himself?
As one of the seven great sea generals under Helix, Lord of the Endless Ocean, and a mermaid princess who frequently operated in the waters ruled by sea elves, she had a certain degree of knowledge about the Magisters' Council.
Lucian smiled. "The person you're entering this magical contract with is my wife. And as a legendary mage who possesses my own demiplane, I am clearly qualified to serve as a contract notary — more professional than the vast majority of devils, in fact, and the punishment will not be delayed by even a moment."
This was precisely why the term "legendary" was used to describe mages of this caliber — they could do what no others could.
Natasha watched Doris's aggrieved expression with her brows slightly furrowed and sighed over their mental link: "I'm starting to feel sorry for her. You really have no gentlemanly grace whatsoever."