The glasses Belial wore were no ordinary accessory. This artifact, called Confession of Lust, allowed him to see the hidden measures of any race's desire, loyalty, lust, and faith.
At present, he had tuned it specifically to read married women.
It was a tool usually used by incubi and succubi to select their prey and using it irked him as it grazed his pride.
But here, stripped of his own power, Belial had little choice but to rely on whatever means he could, even those he despised.
Adjusting the frame up the bridge of his nose, the glowing screen flickered before his eyes as Viessa Dalee's status appeared:
[Name: Viessa Dalee]
[Status: Married]
[Race: Elf]
[Age: 500 years (young for her kind)]
—
[Lust: 85/100]
[Loyalty: 80/100]
[Faith: 30/100]
[Emotional Fulfillment (by husband): 70/100]
[Obedience (to Husband/Society): 50/100]
—
[Conclusion: ★ ★ ★]
[Her loyalty and emotional fulfillment toward her husband may complicate matters. However, her high lust and low faith make her susceptible to cheating for pleasure alone.]
[Her middling obedience suggests she is not especially bound by conservative norms. Still, her likelihood of falling in love with you is low. Should she be discovered, guilt would drive her back to her husband.]
Belial tapped his fingers against the armrest, already considering strategies to chip away at her loyalty and emotional fulfillment while the couple continued to talk about their sweet past which he didn't care at all, but useful for weapons to use.
Then Arel's weary eyes turned to him. "So what's actually wrong with my wife, Mr. Belial? And how do I fix this?"
Belial cleared his throat, adopting a professional air. "Before we can discuss treatment, I need to ask some questions, especially to Lady Dalee." His gaze slid to the elf woman, who stiffened, her long ears drooping under his gaze.
"Tell me, my lady, have you ever tried to stop these urges? Or perhaps you tried but found yourself unable to resist?"
Viessa shifted uneasily. "I… I tried, I think. But not very hard. My husband never refuses me, so…"
Belial inclined his head and pressed on. "Has this behavior interfered with your life? Your relationships, health, and finances? Mr. Dalee, you may answer as well."
"For me? It's clearly unhealthy." Arel let out a humorless laugh, gesturing to his haggard frame.
"I think my condition speaks for itself. And it's affecting my work, I serve in the Ministry of Magic as a Spirit Communicator, which requires constant dealings with spirits."
"Lately, many won't even speak to me. They say I'm… no longer 'pure.' because my aura has changed, full of lust…" He slumped into the couch, looking defeated.
Viessa flinched, guilt clear on her expression.
Belial gave a knowing nod. "That makes sense. As a Spirit Communicator, your pure aura is crucial. Is Her Majesty pushing to open new lands again?"
In Varietas, elves served as bridges to the spirit realm.
Spirits dwelled in the forests, where natural energy was strongest, but clashes often arose when human expansion destroyed their habitats.
Spirit Communicators were needed to mediate between the two sides, preventing bloodshed.
"Exactly, Mr. Belial," Arel said miserably. "And this project is already in jeopardy because of me."
"I see. That must be difficult." Belial shifted his gaze back to Viessa. "And you, Lady Dalee? Do you feel your condition has affected your life?"
Viessa's fingers clenched tighter around her dress, her eyes cast down. "I… I don't think so. I can still manage our home."
Belial studied her intently: the nervous fidgeting, the refusal to meet his gaze, the way her ears twitched with unease.
"Very well," Belial said at last, his tone calm but probing. "Then let me ask you, Lady Dalee, has there been any significant change in your life recently? Or perhaps… something traumatic?"
At his words, Viessa jolted, frantically waving her hands.
"No! I don't think so! We're newly married. Of course, we're happy, right?"
Her eyes darted toward her husband, searching for reassurance.
But Arel didn't answer her directly. His troubled gaze shifted between his wife and the therapist before settling on Belial.
"Does this… have something to do with my wife's condition?"
"Yes," Belial replied evenly.
"Trauma, stress, and anxiety put pressure on the mind. When that pressure builds, the body seeks relief. For some, it's alcohol. For others, food. And for some…"
His gaze slid toward Viessa. "…it's sex."
He folded his hands, speaking with clarity. "Your wife's brain has learned that sex provides quick comfort and dopamine."
"So whenever she feels overwhelmed, it demands more. That's why unresolved trauma or constant stress can make desire feel overpowering. It isn't simply lust, it's a coping mechanism."
The room grew quiet. Both husband and wife seemed to be turning his words over in their heads. Sensing their tension, Belial softened his tone.
"Of course, that may not be the case here. We still have much to learn about you both, so don't feel pressured to have all the answers now."
"But understand this: therapy requires honesty, openness, and consistency, or it cannot work."
Arel let out a heavy sigh. "Before our marriage, Viessa's mother… she suddenly disappeared without a trace. I think that might have triggered something."
He squeezed his wife's hand, but Viessa only bit her lip, silent and trembling.
Belial didn't press. Instead, he smiled warmly, though a flicker of calculation lingered in his eyes. "I see. Then I believe I already have a path forward."
"Mr. Dalee, you must learn to refuse your wife's advances at least for one week. If her requests become too extreme, you may even sleep in separate rooms."
The couple both started, eyes widening in shock.
"Why, Mr. Belial?" Arel shook his head in disbelief. "Wouldn't that be torture for her? How could I watch my wife suffer like that?"
Viessa nodded quickly, her ears twitching in agreement.
"It's called detoxification," Belial explained smoothly, even when his 'therapy' was just made up.
"A way of cleansing the body of excess. For Lady Dalee, the 'toxin' is an uncontrollable sex drive. By restraining it, she can begin to replace this compulsion with healthier coping mechanisms and regain control over herself."
He leaned forward, his gaze sharp but resolute, his smile curving ever so slightly into a smirk.
"Trust me, this will work. I am the first—and only—couple therapist in this realm, Mr. Dalee. Let us make this succeed… for both of you."
'And for me.'
Belial thought as the couple nodded slowly, agreed to his 'therapy'.
***
Belial's office door creaked open, and Lamia slipped inside with a neat stack of documents. She set them down on his desk and asked, almost lightly,
"Tell me, my Lord, this case must be easy, isn't it?"
But Belial shook his head slowly, his expression unreadable.
"Lady Dalee has been lying from beginning to the end. This case is far more complicated than it appears."
"And you know what that means, don't you?"
Lamia's throat tightened. She nodded quickly and muttered, half to herself,
"Ugh… field investigation."
A faint smile curved on Belial's lips. "Good. You understand fast. Now, find out about Lady Dalee's mother, and where she might be hiding."
"Yes, my Lord." She bowed, though her shoulders sagged as her work piled up even more.