The most lustful magician

My name is Famit? Xiu? Kamu, a dark magician. Perhaps you've heard of me before; yes, I'm the one known as "the most lecherous magician in history," Famit. But what can I do? That nickname is just too infamous, and it's partly true. As many know, my profession doesn't belong to the four major categories of dark magic as commonly understood. I'm a lewd magician.

Because of this, no matter what I've done or said, I'm not accepted by the public. What's worse, even the Dark Magicians' Association, which is generally regarded as an accomplice of demons by ordinary people, refuses to accept me. The association's president, Balf, vehemently rejected me because of my excessively decadent private life. What the hell! When did that old guy who deals with zombies and skeletons all day become a defender of morality? Is he jealous of my power and romantic encounters? What's so great about that! They're just a bunch of guys hiding in the shadows rummaging through bones, are they so clever? I have no interest in associating with them. Power and beauty, I can have as much as I want, except for the approval of others…

Like now, I've completed another adventure, the Holy King's ring is on my left ring finger, but I only feel a wave of fatigue. Sometimes I wonder, what would my life be like if I weren't a magician—no, at least not a magician of lust?

I'm an orphan, raised by a sorcerer who often complains that his name is used to stop children from crying at night. He says it's a slander against his reputation, and that he just considers himself richer. Countless people, called heroes or warriors of some kind, come to defeat him. They approach my childhood in groups of three or five, for all sorts of reasons.

He said he found me one day while walking outside the castle and brought me back because he was afraid I'd be eaten by wolves. I suspect his purpose was to increase his followers. All the wolves around here are his followers. But anyway, I later called him Father.

I started learning swordsmanship when I was six. My teacher was a very peculiar skeleton with three arms, wielding three swords. He said his name was Sword Demon, but I thought, why waste such a good name?

Simply put, he could be called Sword Skeleton, or just "S," easy to remember. But he was quite skilled with his sword. He taught me his signature move, the "Triple Slash," a technique he'd developed after killing countless swordsmen. He proudly told me that if I studied diligently, I could definitely use it to kill a few as well.

But he eventually gave up. I broke his sword into three pieces, and on the third swing, I struck a rock. So he had to tell my father that I wasn't cut out for swordsmanship. My father wasn't angry; he just had me switch to archery. I studied this technique, which allowed me to kill from afar, very diligently. The big monkey who taught me was also very confident in teaching me his ultimate move, the "Five-Arrow Shot." That was the technique of firing five arrows at once. Then I changed teachers. Three of those arrows embedded themselves in the teacher, one pierced a window, and the last one shattered a very valuable vase.

Sticks, axes, spears, hand-to-hand combat… I dabbled in almost every martial art for six years, but was forced to give them all up for one reason or another. My father ultimately concluded that I had no talent for being a warrior. But my father didn't give up; there couldn't be anyone who didn't serve in his castle. So, at the age of twelve, I began learning all kinds of magic.

Of course, my father couldn't have white magicians under his command; he only had various kinds of black magicians. Black magic required the caster to have a strong body to resist the backlash from powerful offensive spells. Obviously, this training left me with nothing but scars. However, it did cause several unexplained fires and explosions in the castle. My tendency to vomit at the sight of dead people also forced me to stay away from necromancy.

So at sixteen, I was a pathetic failure, still just lounging in the castle, watching others fight with the visiting heroes. Finally, my father lost patience. He called me in and regretfully told me he could only give me one last chance. He tossed me a very old, yellowed book and told me it contained a long-lost dark magic, its origins, power, methods of practice, and other background information unknown. Studying

magic alone was always dangerous, so I might die. But if I continued as I was, my only fate would be to become a necromancer's magic source. My father said he would order his men to give me the necessary help. After thanking my father for his generosity, I returned to my room. That was the

"Book of Lustful Magic" that would later change my life.

II. Wands 2 (two of wands)

Perhaps because I had long felt that everything I had done in the past was merely a quiet wait for my death, I didn't think much of the warning on the first page, just smiled and turned the page. I locked myself in my little room and read it for three days and three nights. Sexual magic originates from the inherent energy of living beings, utilizing an energy called libido for attack.

This seems appealing at first glance, as this energy, extracted directly from the source of matter, is often quite powerful, and the power derived from oneself and enemies is not limited by circumstances. However, this also means that if not properly controlled, the backlash can be dangerous. Anyone who has studied magic knows that energy in this world is conserved. Spells cast on enemies will naturally inflict the same damage on the caster.

It's just that magicians are accustomed to dealing with this energy and react less strongly, much like how those who study poisons often have better resistance to toxic substances, fire mages tend to stay in hot environments to enhance their heat tolerance, and dark mages typically cannot tolerate strong light. Of course, even so, magicians often possess strong physiques to endure unimaginable pain. Examples of the dangerous consequences of powerful spell backlash are not unique in the history of magic, even among extremely powerful magicians. I had no idea about the backlash power or manner of erotic magic, just as I had no idea what "sex" or "libido" were.

The magic book didn't tell me this; it only gave a complicated description of various ways to use sexual energy. At the end of each spell, there were two pages with various incomprehensible hand gestures and postures, mostly depicting two human figures. I didn't know what they were for, but I guessed they were probably about two-person combined magic. Thinking of this, I couldn't help but smile bitterly at those two pages that I would use most often later. "No, just reading books like this won't help; there are too many things I don't understand." The more I thought about it, the less confident I became. I had to go out and try to find some opportunities to practice. At the very least, I needed to understand what sex was and what erotic magic was.

"Alarm?" I heard a harsh shout. It seemed that the busy goddess of fortune was finally starting to favor me, the one forgotten in that dark corner called misfortune. For the first time in my life, I liked this jarring tune.

My father forbade those who hadn't finished their studies from going into battle, because it would only lead to their deaths, and more importantly, it would give those heroes unnecessary experience, making them even stronger.

But this attack gave me a chance to put it into practice. I pushed open the tightly sealed door and strolled towards the entrance. The invaders were a standard four-person unit: a warrior, a mage, a monk, and a knight—a formation that could attack or defend. They shouted, "Die, you demon!" as they charged forward. Admittedly, they did have some skill, and their coordination was clearly not as clumsy as those hastily assembled ragtag armies. But against the seasoned guards of the castle, their strength was simply insufficient.

The knight in the lead was a handsome young man with elegant swordsmanship and speed.
"He's charging too fast," I muttered to myself. Sure enough, he failed to see through the skeleton soldiers' decoy and was cleverly separated from the main force. He was quickly surrounded by three skeleton soldiers and cleaved into a pulp.
"Brother!" the monk in the group cried out in anguish, quickly chanting a resurrection spell.

"A woman?" I was taken aback. "A resurrection spell can at most heal large wounds quickly, how could it actually turn flesh back into a person?" I scoffed inwardly. The resurrection spell, of course, had no effect, but because of the mentally and attention-intensive nature of chanting such a spell, the power of the sacred barrier that had originally covered them was significantly reduced. Now the dark guards all rushed in, and the warriors and mages instantly became like their companion, the knight.

"Stop!" I shouted, "Leave that monk to me, she's material for my magic research." Seeing that the opportunity I had finally obtained was about to vanish again, I couldn't help but feel anxious.

"Do as he says." The one who spoke was my former swordsmanship teacher, "Sword Demon," who had received instructions from my father to cooperate with my actions.

"Ah, thank you, teacher." I slowly walked over, and the skeleton soldiers all lowered their weapons to make way for me. The monk was clearly still reeling from her closed-eye contemplation. She just stood there, stunned, perhaps wondering how a human could be mixed among demons. I grabbed her hand and led her back to my room. 　　I had her sit on my bed, the only place in my room where all the decorations had to be stolen—that was the rule. "Oh…hello!" I greeted her woodenly, inwardly cursing myself a thousand times for being so polite to

the 　　fish in my pot. I think my expression must have resembled that of a naive young man on his first blind date; of course, in terms of age and experience, there was no difference. 　　"…" As expected, she didn't answer me. 　　"Oh, you don't mind if I know your name, do you?" My words betrayed a hint of helplessness. 　　"I do!" The answer was surprisingly straightforward. She suddenly looked up and faced me directly. Only then did I have a chance to see this girl, completely abandoned by Lady Luck. 　　Having seen so many stunning beauties, I now realize that her looks might no longer be enough to move me. Especially after just surviving a battle and losing loved ones in the process. Her face was dusty, and her once bright eyes were swollen from crying, which only added to her pitiful charm. 　　"Oh... never mind then." Her stare at me made me a little intimidated. If looks could kill, I think she would have torn me to pieces countless times. "Would you like some water?" I felt her emotions were too agitated. 　　"What are you going to do with me? Kill me? Kill me! Let me die with my brother, Roy, and Karl." Completely ignoring my words, she pressed on. 　　"Oh? Die? That's probably not an option for now. Because if you die, I'll be in trouble." I think I must have looked incredibly foolish trying to appease her. 　　"Huh? Why?" Her eyes widened in surprise. "Demon! What are you planning to do with me? Forget about it! I will never join you demons!" 　　"What?! You've completely misunderstood. I just want to use you as an experiment." I sighed, wondering if she had been so immersed in her grief over her brother's death that she had completely ignored my conversation with my father. " 　　Demon! I absolutely will not agree!" She spat out the words angrily through clenched teeth. 　　"Ah, thank you." I replied as habitually as if I were being praised as a knight in the human world. "But if you don't cooperate, I'm afraid I'll be in a real predicament. Because I might get killed because of it. So, please, I beg you. Please help me!" Perhaps overwhelmed by her tone, and still worried about my fate, I didn't realize that the initiative didn't seem to be in her hands at all, and habitually used my most common tone of pleading. 　　She was clearly stunned for a moment, but quickly recovered: "You killed my brother, Roy, and Karl!" Her voice sounded like she was about to cry: "Demons! You demons! I will never let you succeed!" 　　"Ah? Is that so?" I started to worry: "But? You were the ones who rushed in and killed everyone you saw without a second thought!" I gave up looking for the cup that never existed and couldn't help but say. 　　"That's because you're demons!" she shouted. 　　"Huh?" I couldn't help but smile bitterly. 　　"You bunch of predators who prey on the local residents!" She was clearly very dissatisfied with my reaction and retorted loudly. 　　"Oh? You saw it? You got robbed?" It wasn't that I believed the monsters in the castle would be so docile as to not harm people; I was just surprised that there were still humans who dared to live within a fifty-mile radius. 　　Since I could remember, I had never heard of anyone so eccentric as to want to dance with demons near a castle. And in my opinion, the monsters shouldn't have been so bold as to travel so far alone to satisfy their bloodlust; the castle's defenses should have been enough to keep them busy. 　　"We saw skeletons and corpses all the way here." I suddenly found her slightly annoyed expression quite charming. "Oh! Those were all failed experiments with magic." 　　I glanced at her, knowing she didn't believe me, and quickly added, "The raw materials all came from invaders who, like you, claimed to be righteous." Even with a group of skilled necromancers, most of them became the castle's absolute fighting force—skeletons and zombies. 　　"Ha! See? You really killed so many people!" 　　"Ah! We often mourn the monsters who sacrificed themselves resisting the greedy invaders who coveted the treasures of our castle." Who killed more people doesn't necessarily mean the victims were more righteous. But naturally, few can understand this when faced with the realities. 　　"What?! You mean we came for your treasures?!" 　　"No, then what for?!" 　　"To save those you've treated so brutally, of course!" 　　"Please. Shouldn't we be the ones saying that to you? Aren't you the ones who come to attack all day long? Aren't you the ones who ruthlessly destroy people's homes and then storm in to massacre them without asking why or what's right? Aren't you the ones who loot the belongings of the poor monsters you've killed and ransack other people's homes? You make such a ruckus, not even sparing the dead, and then you brazenly call it justice, repeating it over and over again. How noble of you." 　　Actually, I never thought monsters represented justice. Heroes fight monsters for various reasons, and the monsters satisfy their bloodlust and get rich by plundering the dead and outsiders. 　　My father's ever-expanding treasure room made me deeply aware that it was merely a mutually beneficial relationship, where everyone took what they needed. Moreover, among monsters, strength represented everything, which was simply a matter of course. Perhaps it was because at that moment, I felt a strong sense of injustice about forcibly abducting her, which is why I unconsciously tried to justify my actions? 　　She remained silent for a while, then suddenly burst into tears with a sob. Although her eyes were red and brimming with tears, I was still startled by her reaction, frantically unsure how to comfort this crying girl. "Ah... 　　this is so troublesome... is this what they call a woman, this strange creature?" I wondered. Because I didn't know what to do, I just stared at her blankly. But she showed no sign of stopping, and her crying grew louder and louder.

IV. Seven of Pentacles

Sometimes, you really don't need to say too much to a woman. Especially a troublesome one. At the time, I didn't realize this; I was just fed up with her crying. I was too lazy to say anything more, so I just leaned against her. She suddenly stopped crying.

"You... what are you going to do...?"

"Your name?" My tone was firm and left no room for argument.

"Miri... Miri? Costa."

"Oh, that's a nice name." I replied casually, already thinking about what to do next.

I suddenly felt a wave of dejection.

After all, I was just a sixteen-year-old boy, surrounded by clueless guys who only knew how to charge and kill all day. They only knew a little about how to treat girls from magic books.

Generally speaking, there was no risk of spell backlash with summoning magic. Even if I summoned something I couldn't handle, I could easily leave it to the castle guards. So I decided early on to experiment with the spell to summon erotic beasts. Following the steps in the book, the first step was to speak gently to the girl. It seems I messed it up, but the effect seemed pretty good. The next step should be… to strip them naked. But why? I felt a strange fear. Would she slap me? No, even if she did, it shouldn't hurt much. I didn't know what I was afraid of. But it was too late to back down now.

"You…" I leaned my whole body against her.

"What… are you going to do?…" Millie asked, trembling. I think she must regret her chosen profession. Monks don't know any offensive magic, and even defensive magic is lacking. For a half-baked, low-ranking monk like her, separated from her reliable warrior clan, she was practically meat on a chopping block.

In a few swift movements, I stripped off her blood-stained and filthy clothes, revealing her snow-white, delicate, and voluptuous body. "Satan!" I couldn't help but swallow hard. Millie's perfect, youthful body was like a devil's gift, thrilling a virgin like myself. At this moment, perhaps overwhelmed by fear, Millie simply trembled, posing no obstacle to my actions.

I mustered my courage and began to gently caress Millie's smooth, supple skin with one hand.

"Truly a work of art by Satan!" I thought to myself.

But, according to the spellbook, this was only the preliminary work. My hand then moved towards her breasts, small and firm. The sudden stimulation seemed to abruptly awaken the trembling girl's reason. Millie's right hand seemed to finally remember to fly towards my left cheek, but this only allowed me to more easily grasp her hand and press it against my face. Almost instinctively, I began to gently nibble. Millie's small hand was so soft and weak. This was definitely not the way to hit someone. And Millie's panic was clearly greater than mine.

Even with just the added stimulation of my fingers, Millie could no longer calmly bear it. Her soft moans sounded like an invitation to my violation. Excited, I pressed my entire body against hers, my fingers kneading Millie's nipples, which were already hard enough. My other hand continued its restless wandering over Millie's body.

Suddenly, Millie screamed, startling me so much that I hurriedly covered my mouth with mine. That was my first time kissing someone—oh no, what wasn't a first time?

I teased Millie's tongue, even if it seemed too rough from today's experienced perspective, but back then I was simply following the teachings of the magic book. Fortunately, Millie didn't mind; she just kept moaning indistinctly, writhing her body beneath me.

Our bodies became even closer, intensifying our pleasure. In an instant, a surge of heat, seemingly from nowhere, rose uncontrollably from my lower abdomen. A part of my lower body began to swell, as if craving something, anticipating release and explosion. Although no one had taught me, I realized in that instant that this was sexual urge. The girl's beautiful body made me realize for the first time how immense the power of Libido was.

Was it time? My remaining reason kept telling me. Following the instructions in the spellbook, I tried to steady my breathing and tone, and began to chant softly: "Ancient spirits of lust, I, in the name of Famit? Xiu? Kamu, make a pact with you. I will submit to the impulses of sex for my entire life and provide you with the energy of lust. So lend me your power, obey me. Come forth, you lewd beasts!"

The lewd beasts summoned by my first use of lust magic were incomparable to those of today in both quantity and quality, but it was still the first time in my life that I had actually succeeded in doing something. The feeling of excitement even surpassed the stimulation my body was receiving.

I still clearly remember what the lewd beast looked like: it was something about the size of a table, with a dozen tentacles—hmm! Like a large octopus, but without that disgusting head. To me, it was actually quite cute. It suddenly appeared beside me, smearing slime everywhere.

That was a mistake. The lustful beast was an extremely powerful creature, possessing an incredibly strong libido and sexual prowess, so much so that even now I use it with great caution. Back then, summoning just one or two small lustful worms to enhance the atmosphere would have sufficed. The worm-like creatures' tendency to burrow everywhere could provide women with deeper and more intense stimulation. However, ignorance and a greedy mindset ultimately led to irreparable damage.
This sudden appearance of the creature clearly startled Millie. Before Millie could even react, the lustful beast had already used its numerous and long tentacles to tightly encircle her, tenderly touching her erogenous zones. The caressing techniques seemed magical to me at the time. And it was astonishing that a woman's body had so many places that could bring her pleasure.

Millie writhed like a giant snake under the lustful beast's tentacles, refusing to rest for a moment. Clearly, it was a very experienced lustful beast; to me at the time, the foreplay was thorough and the techniques were abundant. Millie was gradually becoming breathless, her face as rosy as a ripe apple, her alluring little mouth no longer able to utter complete syllables, only barely discernible as the sound of "I," as for "I what," no one knew.

Surprisingly, my lust, far from being exhausted by summoning the beast, had instead intensified, I felt my body expanding exponentially. For the first time in my life, my body felt unbearably hot, pulling me back from the satisfaction of my work to the craving for sex.

I rushed forward recklessly, hoping to pull the beast apart and have a quick, decisive encounter. But the tightness of the bond between the beast and Millie far exceeded my expectations, and with my frail body, it was difficult to find a place to use my strength.

I frantically pulled the beast away, my body desperately pressing against Millie's flesh. I didn't know what the result would be, but it was simply an instinct driving me. Millie's beautiful body was being wantonly played with by the lewd beast before my eyes, her incessant moans so bewitching my mind. Perhaps my actions finally had an effect, or perhaps for some other reason, I was pulled inside the beast.

This allowed me to observe more closely how the beast's three tentacles alternately entered and played with Millie's pink flower. The beast's other tentacles indiscriminately attacked every possible spot on Millie's body. Millie screamed, and white liquid continuously flowed from her opening, this liquid being smeared all over her body by the beast's tentacles. My breathing had never been so labored, and my reason had never been so chaotic.

Just then, something freed my erection, and I realized it was likely the tentacles of the lewd beast. I tried desperately to break free, but it was futile. I was being pleasured by the two hand-like things, and before I knew it, I seemed to have ejaculated. My body felt an unprecedented pleasure, and then my consciousness betrayed me. I finally passed out.

V. The Wand 3 (Through of Wands)

When I woke up, I found myself abandoned in a corner of the house. Obviously, the lewd beast wasn't very interested in me; it had done what it needed to do and then ruthlessly abandoned me, like facing a disposable toilet. But I really didn't have the heart to blame its heartlessness and abandonment. There were more important things for me to do.
I saw Millie.

I didn't want to recall what she looked like then; it was really not good for my appetite. She was still being caressed up and down by the lewd beast's tentacles, her body covered in traces of vaginal fluid, wet and half-reflective. Her genitals were a vibrant red, as if stained with fresh blood, and streaks of bruises testified to the ruthless beast I had summoned, utterly devoid of tenderness.
One of the beast's tentacles moved in and out of Millie's mouth, but Millie could no longer express whether she liked or disliked the sensation. Her eyes, wide with fear, had lost all light. Her horrifying expression and the inhuman movements and shapes her limbs were manipulated by the beast clearly told me one thing—Millie was dead! She

had been toyed with to death by the beast! It was the first time I had discovered that the room I had lived in for so long was so terrifying. A disgusting monster was endlessly toying with the corpse of a beautiful young woman just hours before, using its numerous, long tentacles. The contents of my stomach, which should have been food, suddenly rebelled and overflowed from my body. Bitter, acidic liquid spilled from my mouth onto the floor. I screamed and rushed out of the room, leaving behind the monster and its toys, still engrossed in their game.

Afterwards, my father angrily told me that no matter what happens, a man should never forget to lock the door when leaving a house; it's a sign of poor upbringing and will become a laughingstock for other keepers.

That year, my father didn't win the Best Castle Keeper of the World award, not even the Best Education award. I don't know if it had anything to do with my carelessness.

It was an accident; the beast won't stop its behavior unless it's sealed away, but how could I have known that back then? Although perhaps we should all envy the beast's relentless drive. Please forgive my unclear narration after that; I've forgotten many things since. I only know that I was sixteen that year, and that day I received a regret that would take ten years to accumulate. I don't remember when I started to pick myself up again. Perhaps it was the cleaning lady who showed my father my work—the lewd beast still entangled with the corpse.

My father was very satisfied with my performance in such a short time; to be able to use powerful summoning magic after only three or four days of learning was quite astonishing compared to my progress or anyone else's progress in other magical fields. The castle defense forces seemed to have paid a heavy price to deal with the lewd beast I left in the house. Although the responsibility lay with me, my father's satisfaction was palpable.

I received praise for the first time in my life. My father proudly praised my talent and promised to provide me with ample logistical support, including any necessary experimental materials. I also requested an additional room, which my father unusually readily agreed to.

As an ordinary, newly enrolled graduate student, being able to get additional housing faster than those veteran professors and senior lecturers who taught martial arts and magic inevitably drew envy. Of course, I was also particularly self-disciplined because my research topic was relatively new, so I didn't dare to be arrogant. I turned down various lectures and seminars, and spent my days obediently staying in my dormitory waiting for the frontline soldiers to bring me research materials. However, there aren't many women who would actually venture out into the world to adventure. Most so-called female adventurers are just looking for a rich husband; they won't actually take risks.

Those who love the limelight and follow trends won't actually venture into difficult places either.

The last type, simple-minded young girls who are infatuated with idolized adventurers and hero worshippers, will also venture out, even without fear of danger. However, if the adventurer who gets entangled with them is an idol, he'll only take them on sightseeing trips; they themselves would never come to places like their fathers' castles. Real adventurers, on the other hand, will cleverly decline these troubles.

This is something I experienced firsthand later when I was traveling, but at the time I didn't know it, complaining about how long it always took for people searching for materials to deliver unusable research materials. They were either too old or too ugly, so I had to make various excuses to refuse. Picky eating is a human trait, even for a little devil who spends his days with the ugliest monsters in the world and has never seen a woman.

And time passed by in my boredom, and the gossip around me grew louder and louder. To minimize my father's dissatisfaction with my research progress, I had no choice but to blame his subordinates for their incompetence. Just as I began to doubt my own excuses and suspected that my dismissal was imminent, my life was about to officially turn a new page.

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The most lustful magician

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