The heavy smoke and mists of the sixteenth floor were nearly impossible to see through by more than a few feet, even for Mordecai's enhanced senses. The entire zone steadily exuded dozens of different sorts of aerosolized substances, their thick, heavy, cloying scents clinging to him and blocking his otherwise keen sense of smell along with their other properties.

The first set of mists each had different absorptive properties. Lights, sounds, scents, and auras were all included, with some of the aerosolized liquids trying to absorb all of their type, while others absorbed only a narrow portion, such as a certain color of light, sounds of a specific frequency, scents of specific composition types, auras associated with specific elements or magic properties, etc.

The next set was the exact opposite of the first, though they were keyed to not interfere with each other.

The combination created an ever-thickening gray wall of pseudo fog that faintly glowed, mixed with ever-shifting and swirling shades of light and shadow.

This was already a nearly ideal setup for facilitating ambushes and assassinations, but it didn't stop there.

The third set of substances was intoxicants: hallucinogens, stimulants, and depressants represented the majority of them, but there were also several sorts of emotional amplifiers as well. Some of those were keyed toward anger and fear, but others were keyed toward enhancing a sensation of trust and emotional bonding.

While that last one might not seem dangerous, when paired with the hallucinogens, it made people much more susceptible to being lured by hypnotic and seductive temptations, and all those temptations were lethal.

The inhabitants of this floor were various species with innate shape-changing, combined with different mixes of dhampir and nephilim. Occasionally, a different base species had been used, and a shape-changing species included in the mixed side of the equations.

According to Deidre, this zone had been used as a type of testing ground, though for what she was not entirely sure. The master, or rather, mistress who had designed this zone spent as little time as she could in Svetlana's territory, and never talked with Svetlana outside of the dead minimum needed to give orders and ask questions.

When she had entered the territory, it was usually to deliver test subjects of some sort and to collect data on the previous tests. Some test subjects had been forced into being inhabitants, others were forced to into being combat test subjects, and the remainder were 'fed' into the sixteenth floor to be hunted, often with specific instructions to the inhabitants such as kills were to be made only if a target was successfully seduced.

While this might have seemed like the dark expression of a twisted kink, she was only interested in data; namely, which combinations were most successful at completing seductions and what techniques and abilities were optimal for overcoming a target's resistance.

However, death was not always the objective. The same techniques could be used to dominate someone and break down their will to resist until they were little more than a puppet, whether or not they were aware of the process.

Someone whose will had been completely broken was often instructed to become an inhabitant of Svetlana's nexus, and they were then forced to evolve into a new variant of the bloodline mixes already inhabiting the zone.

Not all of those stayed; shortly after her mistress was satisfied with the modifications, she occasionally had Svetlana break the connection to her new inhabitant, who was then taken away. This was peculiar enough, but all of those who had been transformed and then taken away had arrived as elves and retained elf as their base bloodline. They were also invariably young; just old enough to sire or bear healthy children.

That was disturbing, but those events were also about two hundred years old now, and no additional zones had been added since that time, to limit Svetlana's power. This was also the person who had designed Deidre's current avatar and had passed on instructions about limiting her growth. Her default human appearance belied a physiology closer to that of an elf with a demonic alternative form, so Deidre could already live for a very long time before accounting for the fact that avatars do not age inside their own territory.

Mordecai could investigate all of that later. For the moment, he was slowly making his way deeper into the zone. Behind him, some of the more elite squadrons from the army, and more than a few irregulars who had been hired for this mission, were crafting a slowly expanding set of runes and protective circles on the floor and walls, while priests ran through a constant cycles of prayers to purify any intoxicants.

While Mordecai was fairly certain that he was immune to most, if not all, of the intoxicants present, he was glad for the currently invisible mask that Dersuta had supplied. Everyone else from Azeria was wearing one as well, at least, when they were not eating. The rest of his party was currently recovering, during which Mordecai was setting about a task no one else here could safely do. He was going to be bait.

The first attack came before Mordecai had entirely lost sight of the soldiers. A thin, dull gray blade thrust directly at him from out of the gray mists. He swayed slightly to slide around the blade, but did not immediately counterattack. This was a learning phase for him, and there was a lot to learn.

Thankfully, the mists could not mute all of his senses. While the vibrations of sound through the air were mostly nullified, this had little impact upon the vibration of stone beneath his feet, or the soft flow of air over his skin caused by the movements of his foes.

With all of his other senses sharply limited for now, Mordecai had to depend on these two senses to keep himself safe while he tried to adapt to the quirks of this strange environment. Blades and spears proved to be relatively simple — a proper attack required proper footwork, and even when being thrust, a weapon moved a notable amount of air out of its path.

Once he was satisfied with his ability to judge the stances of his shadowy foes, Mordecai began his counterattack. A naginata was perfect for the moment; though about the same length as other polearms, the sword like blade on the end made it easy to judge contact with an opponent's blade just as if he was sword fighting blind. Now every attack was met and returned with lethal precision.

Then an arrow struck his shoulder. It had been aimed for his chest, but Mordecai had just barely noticed the wind of its approach in time. Projectiles proved to be much more problematic; an attacker needed a proper stance for their aim, but did not need to move their feet. That only left Mordecai with the ripple of air that preceded each projectile, and that was a very short lead time, even for his reflexes.

Mordecai swapped out the naginata for a pair of long, thin blades and fed mana into the shield projections of his bracers. This normally wasn't needed, and thus would be an inefficient use of mana, but this mist slowly sapped at any projected energy, and he needed multiple layers and options for protecting himself. The cut from that first arrow had been a shallow line across his scales, but it had also left a corrosive toxin behind.

It was a tiny tax on his resistances and healing, but a sufficiently large number of such taxes could be dangerous.

He slowly modified his avatar to bring out the quills that he normally reserved for his war form, though only a few at key locations near his wrists, elbows, shoulders, and carefully hidden in his hair. Now he began his counterattack, firing a small salvo of quills in retaliation for every projectile aimed his way. More than a few arrows, bolts, and darts still found their mark on his scales and flesh, but between being able to deflect most of them and slowly whittling away the number of enemies shooting at him, Mordecai was able to keep the toxins and other effects to a tolerable level.

Contending with both at the same time was more difficult, but it was also somewhat more dangerous for his foes. True, they were adapted to the zone's strange mist, but firing at a target engaged in melee with an ally was always risky.

This was when the third form of attack came. Figures moving just at the edge of visibility; whispered, distant-sounding voices mimicking the people in his party; a glimpse of a familiar, beloved face that was both a distraction from other attacks and a prelude to a strike from a hidden dagger.

It was a potentially deadly combination, but it was also fortunately not very effective against him. Mordecai had his mask and his natural resistances to keep his mind from being affected by the mist, and he had been forewarned about this attack. Additionally, his core was whispering to him over his earring to keep him updated on where the others were, so he knew with absolute certainty that they were not in this zone yet. The final thing that made it almost easy, or at least less difficult, to deal the killing blow to these copies of his friends and loved ones, was that there were details that the shape-shifters were not able to copy.

Details that most could not see.

Some details were at the surface; subtle stripes in the skin that were only visible if you could see the colors beyond blue. Others lay deeper; Mordecai's senses were sharp enough to use sound and heat to map out arteries and veins underneath any visible skin, and sound alone was enough to be aware of the location of everyone's heart and what their normal heartbeat sounded like.

There were even more details than that; subtleties of movement, sound, and scent that were difficult to describe. He'd always paid some attention to those details, but armed with Deidre's warning, Mordecai had been paying close attention to everything, memorizing the tiniest minutia that could help ensure the identity of a person.

It still hurt to slay these close duplicates, but Mordecai's speed and power were not reduced by the expressions worn by his deceptive foes. At least, not by much.

Each face and form was tried on him at least three times, sometimes alone, sometimes in pairs or groups, sometimes in conjunction with other attacks as a distraction, sometimes waiting as a trap for him to come across while they looked lost and confused.

Eventually, the attacks ceased. Mordecai did not believe he had killed all of the inhabitants of the zone, and he was certain he had not yet faced the boss, but he had slain a lot of this zone's inhabitants during his wanderings through the gray mists.

"Faker."

The amused word drifted to him, seemingly coming from no particular direction. It seemed that the zone boss had deigned to make herself known. "You're good," she continued, "but that's the problem. You're too good to be so tired and strained from that little bit of exercise. To have done all of that, in these conditions, makes you rather, mm, terrifying."

With the way she said that, Mordecai felt that he could replace the word 'terrifying' with 'delicious'. Nikita Bolvyarink, once a young noblewoman, heiress, and only child. She disappeared before she could officially inherit her father's title, a little over two hundred years ago, and from what Deidre had said, Nikita had adapted very well to having the nature of her body being changed and being instilled with the skills of a seductress and assassin.

Mostly because she wanted to hone all of those abilities so that she might bring vengeance upon the branch family who had arranged for her disappearance. That focused drive and burning will had kept her from despair and left her relatively sane.

Mordecai briefly considered maintaining the pretense, but discarded it — matching Nikita's game had more potential for beneficial outcomes. Spiritual energy surged out into his extended aura, pushing at every hostile magic and power within its radius. The mist recoiled then surged back against him, but Mordecai's well of energy was vast, and his mana-stealing trick had been simultaneously keeping him full and helping to expand his capacity.

If the mist were a magic directly controlled and empowered by Svetlana, then the outcome might have been different. But it was a passive ability that had been woven into the nature of the zone, and from his conversations with Deidre, it seemed that Svetlana did not know how to use her powers to directly oppose attempts by outsiders to control her environments. Mostly because she had never been allowed to try.

Grey fog undulated and slowly retreated under the pressure of Mordecai's will and power. He was relieved to finally have the cloying scents lessened, but let no sign of that show on his face. Hints of a feminine figure flitted about the murky edges, staying just out of the cleared areas near him. "Time to play a different game, it seems," Mordecai said, pitching his voice low. "I do enjoy playing with more interesting toys."

He could 'see' farther than the cleared section of mist would indicate; Mordecai had been using his time as bait to attune himself to the peculiarities of the mist as best as he could. Seeing clearly through it was still impossible, but it did not hinder him as much as it had when he had first stepped into the zone. This gave him a clear look at Nikita; well, as clear as could be had at the moment.

She was clearly attempting to find a form that would appeal to his strongest desires, matching herself against the feel of his aura. It wasn't as precise as the similar ability some succubi developed, but that could also be an advantage. A succubus was more likely to take on the exact appearance of some suppressed obsession, while the ability that had been developed for Nikita was more likely to find a balanced hybridization of different things her target found appealing.

Mordecai very carefully and slowly released control over a tiny portion of his emotions, allowing his aura to react more strongly to her gentle probe. If his objective was simply to kill her, he could do that now, but there was a long-term game to play here.

"Oh?" she responded, her voice sultry. "Am I to be your new toy then? A plaything to be kept as a pet for the great and powerful Mordecai? I wonder, would you wrap me in pampered pleasure and spoiling? Or would you inflict the sweetest sorts of pain upon my tender flesh?"

"For you," Mordecai said, "I think I would want to allow you only the softest and gentlest caresses, but never release, until you were begging to be broken, ready to offer up your entire self for the honor of being owned. That also seems like the sort of game my wives would enjoy playing with you." As he spoke, Mordecai was mimicking her attempt at finding an ideal form, but with more limitations.

First, he was making his adjustments manually instead of relying on innate talent, as he observed her responses. Second, he was limiting himself to only the slightest changes in body shape and facial features. Just enough to become a more appealing version of himself, and to hopefully do so without revealing what he was doing.

"Oh, now that does sound entertaining, though a difficult feat, I think. If I could, I would be tempted to give you the opportunity to try; I can say it would be a new experience for me." They were circling each other, slowly drawing closer. Nikita was clearly visible now, and Mordecai memorized the appearance that she had refined to use as a weapon against him. He aspired to be self-aware, and there was almost certainly something to be gleaned from the exact features that the instincts of her ability had selected, but now was not the time for such analysis.

"I suspect you would find more than a few surprising new experiences under our tender ministrations. You might find it interesting to know that my wife, Kazue, recently brought a nine-tail to heel, enticing her into swearing personal fealty in a rather binding oath. Can you imagine the interplay that would cause a woman to seduce her husband's former lover, especially one who was mother to a child of his?"

"That seems a rather improbable tale... wait. You're a faerie king, and truth-bound. I—" Nikita faltered briefly, caught by surprise as she started to re-analyze everything he'd said. He wasn't surprised that Svetlana had been forced to tell her such information, but it seemed that Nikita hadn't been keeping that fact in mind. In this case, it was to his advantage, saving him the time of telling her that detail himself and knocking her off-guard more thoroughly.

"We would treat you well, the best you've been treated in more than two hundred years, Nikita." For the briefest moment, the woman froze completely. Mordecai didn't hesitate, blurring across the remaining distance to grab and spin her around before pinning her against a wall. He had already modified some of his hair-quills, and a fine needle slid into a precise spot between neck vertebrae to press against a control nerve and inject a paralytic. More needle-like quills quickly followed, some designed to dump their entire contents immediately, others designed to release their intoxicants more slowly.

The combination was designed to induce a euphoric state at the same time as it put her to sleep, all while immobilizing her body with a combination of different paralytics that rendered her body completely limp. Before she could succumb to the mana-enhanced drugs, Mordecai murmured into her ear, "Lady Nikita Bolvyarink, should you reclaim your heritage with sufficient restraint and minimal casualties, you may be able to seek allies from more southern countries. Politics is a complicated game. I make no promises, and others will be making judgments and negotiations."

Now he wrapped her in spells to send her further into sleep than the drugs alone could, and it took only a few more seconds for her to loose all focus in her eyes, then a few more to render her practically comatose. After he was certain she was completely out, Mordecai started casting a longer, more complicated spell that warped space and shadows around her, creating an isolated pocket of reality in which time would slow to a crawl. That bubble was pushed into the shadow realm, then slid outside of the reach of Svetlana's territory.

It was, however, still inside the mana ward that enclosed the nexus, and without interference, it would break in twenty-four hours and release Nikita to this same location. Mordecai had also created a tether to it, one that he could tug on to immediately bring the bubble to him and release her in a space near him.

This isolation meant that she would not be a problem come the next reset, and there was a chance he might be able to use her as an asset.

He had to admit, it had been fun to practice those skills, but manipulative seduction was a double edged sword. Just as the best lies are the ones that are carefully arranged pieces of truth, the best seducers are the ones who enjoy their work, and this in turn leaves them potentially vulnerable to the same tools, if caught off guard. The extra need to be precise with the truth had been an enjoyable challenge — Mordecai had no intention of drawing Nikita into any sort of relationship, but he had been truthful about how he, Moriko, and Kazue would likely play with her in that scenario.

Satisfied with his results, Mordecai sent a message to Kazue and Moriko that the Azeria party could come down when they were ready. In the mean time, he was going to go hunting. Even without interference from any inhabitants, the army's teams had hours of work left to do, and Mordecai was going to do his best to ensure that there were no disruptions.