They smiled with the same hypnotizing sweetness.
"You're beautiful…" one of them said, cupping Marcus's face with both hands. "You must be so strong… I wish you'd show that strength to the three of us."
"Your body is incredible…" another murmured, sliding her fingers along his arm. "Don't you want to have some fun with us?"
The third simply wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her face against his chest.
Marcus took half a step back… but didn't complete the movement.
The perfume grew stronger.
Warmer.
More enveloping.
And the hands on his body felt impossible to ignore.
"Marcus…" Sienna called, her voice tense.
He turned toward her and smiled.
A smile that wasn't his.
"Relax…" he replied, his voice strangely soft. "They're just… offering company…"
"MARCUS." Sienna stepped forward. "Get out of there. NOW."
But he didn't move.
On the contrary.
Marcus placed one woman on each arm — literally lifting both with ease — while the third laughed softly, clinging to his neck.
Jay lost focus as well.
The courtesan in front of him slid her hand over his armor once more.
"You must be so tired of protecting everyone…" she whispered. "Here, you can rest… here, no one will ask anything of you…"
"Rest…" Jay repeated, his gaze distant.
The shield slipped from his hand and fell to the ground with a metallic clang.
Ethan tried to resist, but two women grabbed his arms, murmuring close to his ear as if singing.
"Dear mage… just stay with us… just for a moment…"
Emanueru stepped forward, alarmed.
"They… they're not listening to us. Why?"
Sienna clenched her teeth.
"Because there's something very wrong with this city.
And right now, only the three of us can see it happening."
Elenya held tightly to Ethan's arm, but he was already unresponsive.
The perfume was far too strong.
For the first time, the remaining trio understood that the city's enchantment wasn't merely aesthetic.
It was something far more serious.
Two girls — both armed, both looking exhausted — ran toward them as soon as they realized that Sienna, Elenya, and Emanueru were still lucid.
The short-haired one spoke, relieved:
"Finally… someone else who didn't fall. We thought it was just the two of us who resisted."
The other, with long braids, added:
"If you're still conscious, that means that…" she looked at Emanueru, surprised, "women aren't affected… and you? Do you have some kind of natural resistance?"
Emanueru blinked, confused.
"Resistance to what?"
The two exchanged looks. The braided one took a deep breath before explaining:
"To the perfume in this city. It doesn't affect women. Only men.
When they breathe it in, they lose focus… far too quickly."
Sienna scoffed.
"That explains a lot. Including an idiot thinking I was a courtesan. He even offered me money. I almost killed the bastard with my glare alone — he fell to the ground in fright."
The short-haired girl raised a hand.
"Same thing here. They think every woman who enters Líria is 'working' in the district.
But when they realize we're not part of it… their behavior changes."
"They say our scent is different," the braided one added.
Elenya nodded thoughtfully.
"A man approached me as well. Said my scent was strange… then walked away as if I didn't exist."
The braided girl pointed toward the men wandering the streets under the spell.
"They only react to the women from here. Only those already under the influence.
The women pull… the men follow."
"So," Sienna asked, "the women here aren't trapped like they are?"
"No," the short-haired one replied. "They're not the target.
They're the method."
Emanueru frowned.
"So all men are affected? Then… why wasn't I?"
The braided girl answered, her voice heavy:
"Our group had four men. All of them fell. None respond anymore.
They just follow the women, smiling, reacting to nothing."
Sienna shot a furious look at Marcus, who was still carrying two women as if they were living trophies.
"Tsk… even Marcus."
"Idiot," she added under her breath.
Elenya tightened her grip on Emanueru's arm.
"Only the three of us are still conscious. We need to find the source of this before something worse happens."
One of the girls pointed toward the center of the city.
"The scent comes from several places… but it's strongest in the central building.
That's where our companions disappeared."
Sienna clicked her tongue.
"Great. A perfume that turns warriors into puppets."
Emanueru breathed slowly, careful not to inhale deeply.
"Then we need to find out who's spreading it."
The braided girl nodded.
"The main building is right there. Let's go together. That's where everything comes from."
Sienna opened her grimoire.
"Then let's get straight to the point."
Elenya readied her bow.
"And let's save everyone."
As they advanced through the illuminated streets, increasingly filled with false smiles and sweet invitations, one certainty took hold:
someone was manipulating the entire city.
In Líria's most luxurious hall, lit by perfumed candles, Vaelira — a woman of impeccable beauty — calmly savored a glass of deep red wine.
The door opened slowly.
A courtesan entered, visibly tense.
"Master… we have a problem."
Vaelira didn't lift her gaze.
"A problem?" she asked lazily, swirling the goblet. "Clients fighting? Visitors too eager?"
"No… it's not that," the courtesan took a breath. "Four women arrived in the city. They… don't work here."
The Mistress smiled faintly.
"Others have come before. They soon realize they aren't needed here… and they leave."
The courtesan swallowed hard.
"But… they didn't come alone."
Vaelira raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? They have company?"
"Yes. They came with four men."
The Mistress finally looked up, intrigued.
"Then the perfume should have already brought them to their knees."
The courtesan shook her head.
"That's the problem, Mistress…"
The goblet froze midair.
"…it didn't?"
"No. One of them remains lucid.
None of us were able to influence him."
Vaelira slowly set the goblet down on the table.
"An immune man…"
A dangerous smile curved her lips.
"That… is new."