Pride
Belili was on the hunt, and she was getting close. She could almost taste her prey’s mana already. Golden, predatory eyes narrowed as they looked up at the sultan’s grand palace, protected by high walls and an army of guards, both to keep enemies out and the sultan’s vast harem in. Her full, soft lips twisted in a wicked smirk. All too easy. Her physical form flickered like a candle’s flame for a moment, then vanished. Her aetheric form drifted effortlessly through the thick wall, then flew, guided unerringly toward one looming tower, straight toward the mana of her prey. Such a spell was expensive, and would have been far beyond the means of her weaker siblings, but Belili was no common succubus. She was the favored hunter of Ba’Hadad, the Sovereign of the Crimson Isles, sent to drain the most powerful mortals of the lesser realms, both to ensure they couldn’t defend against his might, and to feed his ravenous hunger for mana.