¤ The Ones Above [ V ] (Part II)

"Lord Luxion." Chrysos addressed his master, his unseen gaze settling upon the young lord.

"Is Onyx not going to be joining us? Was I mistaken in assuming this to be a congregation of your most loyal retainers?"

Positioned beside the throne, stood gallantly like a statue given sentience, Chrysos continued the gradual process of regenerating his left arm— the limb he had willingly severed to satiate Roux's absurd appetite.

Speaking of which, that little gremlin is currently munching on said limb with an enthusiasm as though she was eating her favorite chicken drumstick.

Not too far off, honestly.

"I have tasked her with the subjects' relocation and conducting further reconnaissance." Luxion responded nonchalantly, pointing a finger at a random direction.

"She should be around there somewhere, keeping an eye for any anomalies." 

"…Had you but issued the command, I would have overseen the preparations myself." Chrysos murmured, his tone carrying a subtle hint of disappointment.

"Come on, no need to be overzealous." Luxion teased with a knowing smirk.

"I am well aware of your capabilities. Besides, you had other matters that required your attention, no?"

"If it is your will, my Lord, I will see it done regardless of my own predicament."

"Hahaha~ I appreciate your diligence. But for now, let the fledgling prove herself, yeah?" Luxion countered playfully.

"Since you've overshadowed her at every chance possible, she's starting to become insecure of her post."

"Hmph! That insipid fool!" Chrysos scoffed, arms crossed in sheer disbelief.

"To burden Lord Luxion with such trivial insecurities. How disgraceful for a servant!"

"Now, now. Give the lass a bit of grace, won't you? She simply has yet to find her confidence." Blanche chimed in, amusement lacing her words.

"Find her… confidence?" Chrysos echoed, his expression perplexed.

"She has received Lord Luxion's divine favor, has she not?" He began.

"To be chosen by the Lord is the highest decree of honor one could have. What reason does she have to wallow in such insignificance? (…If anything, I am the one envious of her.)"

Luxion raised an eyebrow, lips breaking into a smirk as his eyes sparkled a mischievous tune.

"Chrysos… Have you actually told her that?"

"Told… her?" Chrysos repeated, tilting his head.

"Yes. Expressed those sentiments to her— in your own words." Luxion clarified.

"Why… is such a thing necessary?" Chrysos uttered innocently, genuine bewilderment flickering across his face.

"Is that truth not already self evident? (Furthermore, admitting it aloud would be rather…)"

A quiet chuckle spread among the gathered retainers— warm gazes gathering around him like moths enchanted by a lantern.

"My, oh my~! How utterly precious!" Blanche remarked with a playful glint in her eye.

"It seems like our Little Chrysos is far clumsier than I ever imagined."

"Understandable." Vesper agreed with a slight shrug of his shoulder— an impression of a doting grin peeking through his flaring mane.

"Chrysos is a perfectionist, after all. It's only natural that she would feel pressured working beneath such a prolific senior with impossibly high standards."

"Indeed." Blanche concurred with a giggle.

"He might've set the bar too high that the poor girl doesn't even know where to begin."

"Wh-What… Clumsy? Prolific? How can those two concepts even coexist within the same sentence?" Chrysos muttered, utterly lost.

"No, wait— please, I implore you! I cannot keep up with this conversation! Will someone explain!?"

"Cy is a klutz! Dork! Airhead! BIRDBRAIN!" A mischievous voice cut through.

From the gap between Vesper's hooves where she had nestled in like a spoiled kangaroo cub, Roux stirred up a commotion, taunting Chrysos by waving the half-eaten limb in her hands. 

"Emergency food!!!" Roux squealed, thoroughly entertained by her own antics.

"You little— Ngh!? Cease that at once! Do not flail that around! It's disturbing! And for the record, I am most assuredly not clumsy! Certainly not in comparison to you!" Chrysos argued with passion, his refined composure cracking completely.

"This is a grave misinterpretation of facts!"

His protests only earned further laughter, much to his exasperation.

Their playful banter continued, an endless exchange of sarcasm and teasing, while the adults of the party— the 9 y.o. grown man included— looked on with amused chuckles.

This was the inevitable dynamic of their group of misfits— lighthearted, boisterous, undeniably endearing. Wholesome. Peaceful…

[Human].

They appeared at ease, unburdened, like ordinary individuals savoring a fleeting moment of freedom. Loose and unrestrained. Safe and free of troubles. Untouched by the weight of the world's incessant bindings on them.

Shackles of fate, the chains that safeguard the world… from them.

Monsters.

The petrified beast could only quiver in his place, his body refusing to obey his will.

Moving was impossible.

Speaking— unthinkable before those five. Breaking free? A fool's dream.

He had barely withstood the terror of the two of them before, and now, that wretched hellspawn had gone and summoned three more abominations to aid his side.

Servants… he called them.

The golden bird of the ruined mandate. A girl who reeked of the Marine Emperor's influence. A vassal. An offshoot of that herd. A herald of that calamity… And that centaur— while he failed to place certainty in its identity, the mere sight of that demonic spear sent his blood running cold.

That weapon alone, with its jagged form, its wicked glow— it was burned into his memory as an omen of absolute carnage.

These unnerving existences are anomalies. Beyond rationality, existing beyond the realms of the mortals long before Fenrir had rose to the sovereign that he is now… And yet, they stood there, gathered like loyal hounds… obedient to him— to that child. 

A being who did not radiate mana. Not a single trace. Not even a whiff of its scent.

This is impossible… Such a thing shouldn't be allowed. If they remained unchecked, existence itself would unravel. Each of those freaks could erase entire nations should the whim strike them… And now…

Is escape truly impossible now?

No… this might actually work in my favor.

He and those monsters seemed to be completely enthralled by the battles, thriving on that thrill of unfolding carnage.

If he could just dim his presence a little longer, they— she would eventually— 

"…"

A shudder seized his spine— paralyzing, instinctual terror. 

A silent, inescapable command to run. 

His senses, though ravaged, has yet to collapsed entirely. It yelled a desperate cry, clawing an escape, as it scrambled to locate the source of this dread slithering through his veins.

Then, he saw her.

Large, rounded black eyes. Hollow. Empty. A bottomless abyss that felt as though it devoured him whole. His mind plummeted into its depths, spiraling further into a vast, endless nothing. Scraping his sanity the longer he stared.

Innocence undisturbed.

Danger woven onto the natural order.

Her bright red head appeared like an alluring bait— the kind that lured creatures whom the seeds of terror had already rooted.

She stood there without a sound. Sucking on her finger, tilting her head in childish curiosity. From the corners of her lips, streaks of drool mixed with something thicker, something red.

Like a child before a tray of sweets— 

a temptation he didn't wanted to be.

"Master… this doggy…" 

Her tiny voice rang out, light as if she found a new toy to play with.

"Roux, you can't." Vesper's calm reminder halted her reaching hand.

"He has yet to play his role. It'd be quite troublesome if he becomes unusable—"

"I don't mind." Luxion spoke.

What…? What are… you planning to do—

"Lord Luxion… Are you certain that is wise?" Chrysos questioned.

"I was just thinking he could use a playmate to keep him occupied. Just make sure not to accidentally kill him, okay?"

Luxion's voice remained light, indifferent. As though the divine beast's fate was merely an afterthought… because it was.

"So long as she promises that, let Roux do what she wants."

Chrysos hesitated, something clearly on his mind. Luxion noticed, though decided not to probe when his servant chose to keep his silence.

"Vesper, can you watch over her as well? Just in case she goes overboard. I've changed my mind, we'll be taking him back to the lair. (Also, try not to make too much noise.)" Luxion issued.

"He's going to be a new specimen."

"Understood. Please leave it to me."

"Yay!!! Another meal!" Roux beamed, her focus instantly locking onto her next feast.

No… No, no, no… NO! GET AWAY FROM ME!

The distance between them shrank gradually. His breath was hitched in dreaded anticipation, eyes darting frantically…

But then, something— changed.

A ripple of energy. A sudden shift. The interlocking chains suffocating his existence came loose liberating a portion of his original power. Not much, but enough. It surged through his veins, the last vestiges of his strength funneled into a final, desperate strike. 

Now, while Roux has yet to activate hers—

"Partial release…"

If it was that simple… he would've already escaped by now.

"[Verhungert]."

The child's smiling silhouette crumbled. Like a drop of ink dissolving in murky water, her fragile form collapsed onto the glowing squid crest on her stomach— an eerie, pulsating red that exuded a silent hum.

In her place, what emerged was a nightmare.

An amorphous black mass, writhing with countless arms tethering the boundaries of solid and liquid. At its very core— it's stomach was an abyssal maw, its jagged lids peeling back in anticipation of its next banquet.

Before he could react, it was upon him. Sliding by his side, swift as a snake, silent like an owl.

A touch to his nape. His feet. His stomach. His snout. Tiny, insidious tendrils rooted themselves into his skin, spreading inside him like a plague that drained what remaining vigor he had. Limbs failing. His vision darkening. 

He was lulled into an exhausted slumber, the weight in his eyelids increasing.

And then… She smiled— A predator's grin.

Even in this grotesque form, Roux's delicate features remained enough to be recognized. Her earrings glimmered, eerily beautiful against the monotonous blackness. 

Her fingers landed on his snout as she pried open his mouth like a lumberjack tearing wood split in half… then, she entered. 

A burning sensation inflamed his neck as though molten rocks were poured into his throat. He convulsed violently, his body creaking to its breaking point. The pain— unbearable, so much so that he wished to desperately discard his own broken sanity.

A wish mercilessly denied by the giggling demon feasting upon him.

It pushed deeper. Down his throat. Onto his lungs. Then, his bloated stomach. His pulsating heart. His flesh, his bones, his very being— gnawed, ravaged, hollowed from inside out.

However, with this… the truth of her master's abnormality was finally revealed to him.

Through their cursed link— his essence bound to hers, and in turn, intertwined with him. He finally understood. The reason why that boy felt so deceptively weak. Why his power seemed absent, unnoticed... insignificant.

I've always thought the air in this town was strange… This is ridiculous.

The answer had been there all along.

Just what… is this monster?

To anyone else, that is.

I lunged forward, heel bare-hee-hee-ly hanging where the ledge of this building ends. Slanted on one foot— a hand on my navel, the other atop my head— the rest of my body teetered over the edge in an impossible angle as I pondered upon what my next move should be.

A direct confrontation, huh.

They have more guts than I gave them credit for… or arrogance, I should say.

In my back, though faint, I felt an itch where the pressurized air managed to graze my trail before I dodged— Impressive. It's nothing to note of, but still, it seems like I have to pay more attention if I wish to prolong this scene.

It'd be troublesome if my appearance now causes a disturbance and scares this "dog" away, but… a little fun shouldn't be a problem, right?

The atmosphere shook, footsteps unraveled as the perpetrators declared their presence.

Humu-humu…

I let my eyes wander towards my opposition— analyzing the situation I'm currently in.

A pair of paws, and a pair of… THIGHS! Extra thick ones that can easily crush my face between them!!! …those breasts too, I suppose.

Thank you for the feast!

Beside the werewolf with an indigo mane like an angel who fell into a cabaret, was a dark-skinned woman. Sweet scent of a summer marigold. Majestic membranous wings emerged from her exposed back, each tendon and muscle defined to a degree that it resembled a Mycelium colony, beating against the air with hostile intent. Her long, cord-like tail thrashed like a whip, each motion trailed by a crisp snap that visibly warped its surroundings.

She had short, blunt horns, poking through her cascading black hair, its tip curling into rolls in line with her enchantingly slender waist where, lied a pulsating tattoo etched in her navel— the silhouette of a howling wolf.

She wore a kinky BDSM collar with a heart-shaped hole, attached directly to her micro bikini that seemed more like a sentient caution tape than a clothing garment— barely covering her non-pg, demonetizing design akin to a certain beam of censorship.

Those plump thigh squishes…

Wonderful! Very Noice!

Man, look at them melons juggle.

And yet, despite exposing this much already, her arms and legs were almost entirely covered with a dark skin-tight fabric.

Is this what they call "Reverse Bunny"?

[Succubus]— A race of exclusively female lower demons that preys upon amorous scums who think with their lower heads, providing quick and dirty carnal satisfaction in exchange for their vitality.

A cultural exchange that continues endlessly… until they pump their last.

A race that is nymphomaniacs by necessity… whoever coined the concept of these fiends must have been a tremendous horndog, or has really been starved of physical intimacy to make up such lecherous fantasies. No, wait— wasn't the succubus supposed to represent the unfaithful wife of the first man?

Poor guy. Must've been a pretty bad breakup to make your ex a literal demon—

"S-S-Stop! Please don't kill us!!!"

"…huh?"

By the time I was pulled back into the moment, the two of them were already battered and bruised up— bloodied, sprawled like paralyzed prey before my feet. Their eyes, bloodshot with disbelief and fury, stared daggers at me as though I massacred their whole clan overnight.

—as if they saw a monster or something.

Cowering in fear, they started mumbling nonsensical things.

[Spare us!], [We're not enemies!], [It's a misunderstanding!]— they frantically said as they struggled to even scramble to their feet.

What… the heck?

Blood stains splattered everywhere.

Now that I look closer… the dude was missing his right arm? And the gal's got no wings either?

I followed the trail of viscous crimson in hopes to quench this confusion, but to my bewilderment— I found my gaze circling back on myself. Under my foot, where the hairy arm of the were-beast crumpled. And in my hand, enshrined were the severed wings of a succubus, still twitching like a freshly caught salmon.

…That's weird. I don't remember— ah.

A deep sigh billowed out of my mouth as the realization hit me— What a naughty girl. 

Did you do it again… Blanche?

"Fufu~ Apologies, my dear." Her voice slithered through my mind like a fleeting fantasy, sweet and addictive.

"You drifted into the horizons as soon as you noticed their presence, so I assumed you had no interest in playing with these two. And I didn't want you taking any unnecessary scars either." She continued, not a hint of remorse in her tone.

"That's why I took the liberty and had some fun while I'm at it."

A smug declaration.

That's not a good reason to possess my body, now is it? Besides, I'm not that weak to be hurt by them.

"Oh, come on. It's not as though I've killed them or anything, no?" Blanche playfully replied. 

"In fact, I dare say I did a good job of pacifying these two. Now, you get to interrogate them or whatever more easily. Surely, that is an aid rather than a blunder, right?"

I couldn't help but feel guilty for technically cheating in our fight, so I lowered my head in earnest sentiment, offering a sincere apology, hoping that they'll allow me to restart this scene. But, for reasons unknown, that simple gesture seemed to have intensified their fear— weirdos.

"See? All is well that ends well."

She giggled, shifting her tone slightly higher to appeal more endearingly in his ears.

mmmmmmmm… I suppose?

And damn, was it effective!!!

"Though, I must say… You truly love gazing at a woman's thighs, don't you?"

Why, of course, Milady.

It is the most wonderful gift that the Gods have blessed this accursed world with. What kind of man am I if I cannot appreciate the magnanimous grandeur of such beauty?

Yours is the best, by the way. Make no mistake about that.

"Fufu~ I appreciate that honesty." She stated, amusement in her voice.

"But I must agree, your passion about it is bordering an unhealthy perversion at this point. Not that I mind you having a fetish or two." 

Then, a mischievous scoff.

"You even had a dedicated folder for it open on your desktop that you so generically named as [Homework (Do not open)], hidden within four layers of nestled folders— only to be found out by your moth—"

"Alright! Let's end this charade, shall we!?"

"EEEEKK!!!" The succubus raised her arms, shrieking in terror.

"Please hear us out first!"

"Ah… right, you guys are still here."

The two of them came grovelling at my feet, dragging themselves against the ground, basically begging for me to spare their lives.

Well… the succubus, mainly.

The rabid pug seemed like he wanted to rip me to shreds the next chance he gets.

"Eisenburg welcomes cohabitation. But to my knowledge, that courtesy has yet to be extended to the demonic races." Lux began his act, voice coiled with the intensity parallel to the mightiest.

"So do tell me before I sever your heads… What business could a succubus have, slithering through the shadows of this town veiled in a mantle of secrecy?"

I asked the most obvious, logical, and generic question someone could ask in this situation— with a bit of a catch, of course.

"I— no, we are emissaries of the Edel faction from the southwestern continent dispatched by the Lich Queen herself, Lady Ogra." She proclaimed theatrically grand.

"It is on her behest that I seek an audience with the esteemed Lord of this frontier territory."

And~ here we have a liar. First strike— OUT!!!

Within the demon realm, there exist three main forces that hold monumental authority:

The one who thirsts for chaos and destruction— the conqueror, [Argol]. The one who prefers quiet seclusion— the pacifist, [Lynx].

And lastly, the [Eight-Heads Theocracy]— the impartial governing republic of the land of ruin established at the heights of an era in demon history where every race waged war against each other for dominance over territory and resources.

Who the hell is this Ogra supposed to be? 

And that title… Lich… "Queen"?

Surely not… right?

The [Edel Faction], on the other hand, is a congregation of misfits.

Lower demons hailed in oppressed origins, led by a few elite champions that had made a name for themselves in the last Holy War.

They have only recently formed, but their notoriety has already spread through the continent due to their excellent services as hired mercenaries. A group that already has ties with other regions, one with both the skills and records to anchor their cost. It wouldn't be all that strange for them to approach this town, considering that Duke Zancrest is widely known as the most benevolent entity among the long list of high nobles… But, still…

Edel has connections to other nobles in the frontier territories that Louis probably had good relations with. They would for sure lend one of their own instead of letting the Edel messengers waltz in here by themselves to avoid any mishaps like this.

Even before that…

There's no reason to send them unannounced.

And even if there was, the emissaries would've just said so when they arrived at the gates— which means that they didn't enter legally.

Lux's eyebrows twitched, eyes narrowed.

Even if I disregard the fact that I possess insider knowledge, isn't this simply too crude of a facade to be their actual plan?

Is this… actually a trap?

"If that is the case, then why resort to infiltration? Why were you lurking in this secluded area instead of simply addressing the guards openly with your intentions?"

"Th-Th-That's…" She stammered, her voice trembling under the weight of her words.

"W-We were abducted by a band of brigands during our journey here!"

Ahh, no… their just plain stupid, I see.

"When we regained our senses, we found ourselves imprisoned within their stronghold. After much effort, we managed to escape, and now, are seeking to reach the authorities. However, unfamiliar with the geography of this land… we got shamefully lost."

That look of desperation… I use to make that face when I'm bullshitting my way during exams.

Human trafficking isn't a rare tale in this world. It's rather scary how common it is, contrarily. Most of the captured folks are sold as slaves, and slavery itself isn't banned in this country either. So on paper, her story makes sense.

However, there is one glaring problem with what she said— the fact that there are no bandits in this town anymore.

The Knight Order has a tight leash over the town's regulatory security. A strict standard is held to live up to the moniker of the [Iron Fist], which, in itself, is already a big deterrent for petty criminals. Even in cases where occasional thugs and drunkards, mostly adventurers, cause trouble, for some bizarre reason, many of them would mysteriously disappear the day after— Where do you think I get the food to feed Roux?

…Hmm?

Luxion halted— eureka moment.

Now that I think about it, it's strange that Louis or Liam hasn't rebelled against that system yet, considering the kind of characters they are. Even we own a few dozen slaves in the estate… and they're not treated very well— not even referred as [people] anymore.

Some were also dying due to unknown sickness.

Is that just due to the way they're raised? Like a twisted common sense? Or perhaps… there's something more behind it…?

Nah, I call that inconsistent writing!!!

{Author's Note: I'm always using [Thought Acceleration], so all this monologue is happening at 100x normal speed.}

Shifting my gaze towards her companion, I made her eyes follow mine, silently prompting her to explain his part in this.

"Th-This individual is Mobuze Row." She said, inflection quivering.

"He is a trusted confidant of mine from the Edel Faction, and one who volunteered to accompany me as a gesture of goodwill and non-hostility."

That is true. His presence does make her story more realistic.

A couple of identification cards issued by a legitimized noble of Beseigen or the Guild would've sufficed, but sure— whatever floats your boat at this point.

Beastkins, despite sharing several traits with demonic races, are recognized by humanity as demi-humans. Thus, granting them a pass to enter, and, should they decide to, work and live within the human nation… Though that doesn't necessarily guarantee equal rights.

Humans being racist as always.

"Non-hostility, you say? After you've ambushed me out of nowhere?"

I posed my third question with a slightly sharper tone— emitting just the right amount of bloodlust so their tongues become just a tad bit smoother. I even unlocked a few seals of my aura to really sell that I'm infuriated.

And it's working, if that shriveled look on her face is any indication.

"You are a demon slayer hailing from that fallen clan, are you not? That fiery red hair of yours… it is the unblemished symbol of their lineage."

Demon slayer… red-hair…

Ah, yes… The hermits in the forest of mirages who use strange breathing techniques— not at all inspired by a certain series.

Adjacent to Beseigen's borders and yet another neighbor of the demon realm, there was once a small village nestled at the edge of the bamboo sanctuary where the giant pandas thrived. It was said that there resided humans who achieved awakening— ascending into braves who fought the miasma's consuming terror.

Though it is also due to this inhuman capacity that they were misunderstood as an entirely different race altogether, which led to their eventual downfall under the underhanded assault of the Northern Tyrants.

There was a named character from that broken lineage who's going to play an integral role later in the story.

This disguise is modeled after him because… well, it looks good. Red hair. Green eyes. Greek God physique, and a vengeful setting. The man looked like a frickin Super Saiyan God with Gear 4th Conqueror's Haki!!!

…It was really cool.

Luxion, caught in his own colorful fantasies, had to briefly cut his breathing to regain his composure.

Though I'm surprised someone actually recognized it… guess, it makes sense for demons?

"I… I must admit. We were so certain you meant us harm. In our moment of panic, we hastily assumed you were allied with our captors, and… have acted blindly to defend ourselves." She began, her voice wavering, guilt weighing in her tone.

"But now, I've realized… that you were not our enemy, after all. For you wouldn't have wasted a second listening to our side, if you were."

What lousy acting.

Weren't you the ones who attacked me first? What d'you mean "defend ourselves"? Ah, I suppose I did look a little suspicious— stalking them from the rooftops.

Tears, crocodile ones, threatened to spill from the trembling corners of her eyes. In an act of pride, perhaps of a desperate effort to maintain her fragile state, she held them back, refusing to flood her cheeks, for she knew it would never cease once she allowed herself to crumble.

She stood not as a proud messenger of her faction, but as one helpless lamb, repentant of her grave misstep.

This is far too thoughtless for it to be a ploy concocted by that skunk. Yet, too tame if it is an order from the demon side. These two don't have a slave's crest of subservience either, ruling out the possibilities of the perpetrator being the other nobles aiming for our heads.

Which means that this scenario is by a completely separate, unknown party.

"Truly… I deeply apologize for the rudeness we've shown you."

She bowed her head deeply, voice soft to the point of being hoarse, shoulders still trembling as she tries her best not to stutter.

A defiant face hidden beneath her hollow front.

This recklessness and clumsy reaction seemed like she truly believed she's fooling anyone— either she's just incredibly naive, or that this is a genuine miscalculation born from severe underestimation of a task unknown… because of a larger beast backing them up.

In a momentary instant of clouded judgment, she had lost something irreplaceable. Her ally had to sacrifice a limb in order to protect her. 

Their lives are on the verge of an abrupt end.

Their crucial mission, now hanging by a thread.

I sure hope it's the latter.

Guilt.

Loathing.

Frustration. 

Desperation.

A loyal vassal, incapable of accomplishing the task she had sworn to uphold— all because she had failed to read the situation correctly. 

Normally, this is the point of the story when our tragic heroine, drowning in a muddy pool of her own pathetic uselessness would see the noble warrior, who had just bested them in battle, extend a helping hand— starting a whole new chapter in their lives where everything would magically turn out just fine, go on adventures, face trials, collect more harem members, defeat the final boss, and live a happy, satisfying life after 300 chapters of mostly fan-service.

Unfortunately.

You are not that radiant of a star to deserve such a prestigious role.

"I understand. So that's how it is. It seems like I have committed a grave atrocity against your noble cause." Lux muttered, head down, eyes strained with mixed emotions.

"I won't ask for forgiveness for my action, but please, would you still consider forging an alliance with this country?"

He apologized, prostrating before them.

"Yes… Please rest assured on that matter."

The scarred messenger, though clearly in a spiral of pain, let out a soft sigh— conflicted, yet comprehending.

"In the first place… it was us who were the undeniable aggressors. Even if we had a reason to be cautious, there ought to be a peaceful way to settle our differences."

She definitely just realized the contradiction in her words.

"Our unprovoked assault on you is inexcusable. We deserved what we got. These injuries shall serve as a reminder of that foolishness."

Yeah… You really were fools.

"No, that wouldn't suffice."

Lux rose, his voice reverberating with unwavering clarity.

"Please allow me to aid you with your endeavors. I shall take responsibility and escort you to the Ducal embassy myself. From there, I'm sure you can arrange an audience with the Duke." He continued, tone resolute as he pointed a finger towards the Ducal manor.

—which was clearly visible from all parts of Eisenburg, so there's no way in hell anyone would be lost trying to go there.

"And if we are lucky, there may even be a possibility of fully restoring your bodies."

"I-Is that true!?" The vassal's eyes widened.

"I am aware of how selfish this may sound, but we would truly appreciate your assistance…" 

Or so she says, but I can sense them preparing a surprise attack— probably thought they could get me once I turn my back to them.

"Thank you very much, kind Sir."

She linked her fingertips together, her arms pressed tightly in front of her, squeezing her breast that threatened to spill out of their stringed shackles.

Damn… she really knows how to use her assets.

"But before that, allow me to administer temporary treatment on your wounds… but, I am not certain how effective my magic would be, if it would work at all."

"I will be fine. As a demon, I possess a stronger constitution than most races." She replied calmly.

"Although I doubt I could regenerate my wings to its former form, it is not a wound that would threaten my life immediately."

She placed a hand over Lux's, flashing a strained smile— a sorrow blend of pain and acceptance— before directing his attention towards the struggling beastkin. 

"Please, do prioritize my friend's injuries."

"I understand."

I leaned beside the wounded soldier, my gaze settling on the raw, severed stump where his arm had once been— Blanche sure did him good.

Settling a firm grasp on his shoulder, I raised the talisman between my fingers. It's dark surface flickered to life— a soft white glow pulsating like heartbeat, hastening the more I channeled my mana into it's carved circuits, before melting into an insidious goo that seeped into his mangled flesh.

"[Stagnate]."

Crimson vines erupted from the point of contact. Twisting like wild threads, blackening as they dissipate, resonating with the beastkin's mana. They sank onto his skin, pulsating with a faint gold shimmer as it formed a magic circle out of clotted membrane— ceasing its bleeding while keeping the wound from mending shut.

"That is…"

"A preservation spell. It will prevent blood loss and further infections until proper treatment can be applied to the injury."

"Th-That was amazing, Mister!" She mused.

"I've never seen such magic before. You must be an outstanding mage in this country."

"No. It is not anything that grand." 

Lux waved a dismissive hand, coiling back his fingers, still entwined with the magic circle's interweaving conjuration.

"It's likely that widespread utilization of this spell has just yet to make its way to the territory you are from. After all, this technology was a relatively new discovery."

Bullshit. There exist no such spell.

The bleeding didn't stop, his blood simply ceased to flow in that direction.

[Stagnate] is not a chant of restoration, not even a type of healing magic, but rather, an extreme form of paralysis magic— one that could instantly shut down bodily functions. Though I did tweak it a little to still allow major organs to function.

It is an extremely lethal magic that could cast instantaneous death if used correctly.

Blanche…

"Yes, my dear. Leave it to me~"

As the spell swerved its invisible blanket, the beastkin fell unconscious in my arms. His form draped like a lifeless husk, which caused the succubus' expression to slightly sour— a faint undertone that didn't fade even after she had confirmed his pulse.

Simultaneous to his consciousness, his transformation came undone. His figure, his beast-like silhouette gradually morphed, reverting into an appearance— completely human through and through.

Wasn't a beastfolk's base appearance either their full-beast state or their half-humanoid form? That should be the extent of their transformations.

But, this guy… he's thoroughly a human underneath— Wait, don't tell me he is…

Luxion gasped— another eureka moment.

Kuhuhu~ He's a much better vessel then… I wonder if there's more of them.

"Is that so?" The succubus stirred.

"I think that being able to utilize such intricate magic to this mastery when it was only recently disclosed for use is a significant feat of brilliance in itself. Please be proud of that."

Lux did not reply. Just a simple nod.

Seems like it's really only these two in here… doesn't look like there's any point wasting any more time waiting for their goons either.

I already have enough materials to craft the opening act, anyway.

"I am honored to receive your praise, Lady… Uhh… Apologies for taking so long to realize." Lux stammered, eyes widening as though enlightenment had just descended.

"My name is Luxandar Aena Wolf Gunblood III. May I ask yours?"

Also… this chick.

She's been trying to use [Charm] on me since the start of our conversation. Hmph, what an annoyance— he thought, cheeks flushed slightly.

As if standing in front of those thighs wasn't distracting enough already.

The succubus held the hem of the cloak I had given her and bowed in greeting.

"[Rias]." 

The moment those syllables left her lips, the world itself shifted. 

"My name is Rias Rote Kaiser—"

The air was cleaved in fractures. A phantom wind scoured in consuming whispers as though thousands of invisible knives slashed through the stagnant mantle that shrouded reality in its conniving mist.

Then, came the silence.

Space warped. Sound bent. Vision cluttered. The very fabric that made existence wailed in rejection of her utterance, as though her words defiled an ancient verdict.

"Nghh!!?? Th-This… is—"

Her throat, hoarse like the unending cascade of gravel and sand, seized mid-syllable by unseen strings— binding, multiplying, thickening, constricting, denying her breath, until all that escaped were strangled gasps.

"What… did you say?"

The words tore from my mouth like embers from a molten saber.

My chest was set ablaze, not with pain, not in sorrow, but with something else. Something visceral, something fundamentally incoherent— chaotic, yet calmly observing. It surged— growing, magnifying, sentient— flowing through my veins, clawing through layers of existential fractals like a raging wildfire, permeating through my conscious thoughts in an abyssal haze.

Calling my name…

Dictating a chorus yet to be composed. A primal admission that broke time's causal compass.

"That name… Why do you know that name…?"

It was freezing, yet scorching. A sweeping trail— still, yet unrelenting. A formless maelstrom that rattled the boundaries of a cycle renewed— consuming my entirety.

At that instant… something broke.

"It is… my… name…"

LIES.

Only one person could claim that name.

That name belonged to her—

She— who stood beside the shadowed sovereign. She who walked the path of abyssal darkness, yet shone brighter than any light.

She who… bore that name like a crown— a blade to uphold the oath to her precious king.

Unyielding

Dignified.

Resolute.

Loyal.

A vile wretch like you, drowned in the putrid scent of decay and deceit… has no right to even speak her name… And yet, you dare utter it with your poisoned breath.

You dare taint its sacred hum with the foulness of your presence?

"Ack…! It… hurts… no— please… stop…!"

You… wretched vermin. 

You scum…

You're nothing but a downtrodden gaggle crawling through filth and stolen identities… yet you dare try to defile her name by tying it to your pitiful existence…?

Deplorable.

Revolting. 

How terribly… aggravating.

The tremors of insanity clawed at the very edges of my mind. It raged, the feverish madness brought upon by the awakened phantom— shrieking, devouring, consuming.

Endless. Wrathful. Agonizing. Sorrow… Glee.

Let the world burn.

The Ancestral specter's slumbering mana, encased between a dormant fate and proactive divergence, erupted within my soul. Fragments unveiled. Thoughts aligned.

Fractals inherited.

The ring of disguise shattered with the flicker of a ripple that reached the furthest horizons. Red bled to the shade of ashes. Green burned to the color of royalty and indomitable dominance.

A Warrior to a Child.

A Knight to an Overlord.

A voice, distant yet near, tethered me back. 

The roar of a dying man adorned in a dark cloak of despair was the last of my recollection before I was eventually consumed in the crimson sea that bled from his heart, impaled by the ravenous blade of the chosen savior.

His lips parted one last time, an oath to tie his very existence.

His last word—

"Luxion!"

The world snapped back into focus.

The storm ceased. The blood-red ritual faded as though it had never been there. The suffocating abyss vanished in an instant, and I found myself— back to where I was. 

I gasped. Chest heavy like wardrums on march, eyes darting until it settled on the succubus' face.

Blanche… 

Immediately, I uttered her name.

"Yes, I'm here." She replied, voice sharp, cloaked in concern and caution.

"Have you regained your sanity?" 

I… What was I…? 

That vivid world.

That ethereal vision.

It felt too real for an illusion. 

Why did I… get so worked up just now?

Soul Archive… Fragments— dissected memories, not mine but belonging to someone else. An extension of a memory residing within my existence.

A Goddess in love, and a foolish hypocrite who sought release from life.

No wonder… You lost everything.

Laughter. Not just anyone's— mine.

It erupted from my throat like a geyser of broken glaciers. A twisted symphony of madness, bitter revelation, and a cruel understanding of the undying wish that broke the sanctioned script.

"Kah… Haha… HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

A joke!!!

What a hilarious… pitiful joke.

"I see… I see… You damned moron…" My voice escaped in cryptic amusement.

"How utterly marvelous! I finally understand why! So this is the truth of this chance of mine— KAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH~!"

"You…" A feeble voice creaked.

"You were… from the Ducal house!?"

A pointed inhale pulled my attention downward. There, on the ground, writhing like a salted worm, those venomous cyprus eyes diluted with primal fear and defiant purpose— a nameless bat.

I smiled.

"I must thank you."

"Ngh!?"

The shift in my tone was enough to pierce through her skull. She knew. Danger— She could feel it now, at the verge of her final moments. Death's proximity.

An existence born off carnage, one birthed from the loss of countless lives. A reaper in flesh. A nightmare incarnate— that's how I appeared.

She scrambled, plunging her bloodstained fingers into the shadows, melding with—

"[Shadow Travel]."

The counterpart to [Charm]— an innate skill possessed only by succubi of the most potent bloodline, gifted only to generational vessels.

"How… did you—" 

Her eyes flickered in horror as her technique was nullified— The shadow did not answer.

A single exhale.

The breath I released danced into the air as snowflakes, fluttering on invisible strings. By the conduct of my fingers— with absolute precision, the frost fell. 

One by one— in each limb, each joint. And the moment they made contact, they crumbled. Shattered into fine dust, the curse I cast emerged. Fractured bones reduced to delicate, grounded remnants no larger than ash. 

Fragile as the life she so desperately clung to.

"Kghh—!" She held back a cry.

"What are you…!? Why do you… have that ability!? That's the skill of a dry— Arggghh!!!" She choked, voice laced with pure agony.

"Keen little worm. Quite impressive, aren't we?" 

I crouched down to match her sightline, tilting my head in quiet mockery.

"As the benefactor who became the key to my enlightenment, I truly do not wish to harm you. But I'd appreciate it if you could tell me about the little secret you've been keeping from me."

"Not a chance… in hell… you bastard!" 

Her bloodied mouth curled into a sneer. Even now, she clung to her pride, honoring dignity as something more valuable than survival.

"I will never… surrender to you…! I will never betray my Lord…! You'll never get me to talk… so just kill me—"

"Yes, I'm sure you won't."

As I thought, that stiff accent was fake.

"However. I'm not really asking [You] per se."

I conjured another talisman. It resembled the one I had before, other than the fact that it was black—white— red— No, it had no color. It bled the spectral hue of the world around it.

An item— transparent, yet opaque.

"[Gesichter Plunderer]."

I let it fall out of my grasp. The moment it touched the earth, black flames ignited— surging in silence, devouring yet calm.

From that churning darkness emerged a figure, small and delicate. It took shape. Its outline unmistakably humanoid, yet impossibly ethereal. Wings of a monarch butterfly fluttered behind it, their edges shimmering like stardust.

A fairy, it seems… but its face remained a void.

No eyes.

No mouth.

No expression.

And yet, I recognized its gaze.

Two dark slits shimmered, holding the depth of a nebula— craters masquerading as eerie, unsettling eyes. Beneath them was an unseen grin, lurking in contours, yet it lacked form.

"I'll leave the rest to you… Onyx." I reached out, resting a hand lightly upon its head.

"Understood, Master!"

It drifted near my shoulder, tilting its head as it peeked over my arms— curious and eager.

Blanche… You, as well.

"Yes... Of course... A chore of this caliber, I shall accomplish it without fail."

A hint of concern betrayed her dignified hum— a window of fragility, a moment of hesitation. One that she didn't even try to hide from my conscious attention.

I'm still myself, Blanche.

I won't do anything to break my oath to you that day, so don't be such a worrywart, yeah?

"…Peeking into a maiden's thoughts isn't very commendable, young man."

You're being sulky, so…

"I know. I'm sorry…" She sighed.

"I saw it too. I understand what those visions stood for. The past and that goal— it had finally came to a realization… I'm just a bit shook by how sudden it was."

…if you say so.

A smile brushed my lips— soon a smirk. I knelt beside the immobile succubus, reaching for her forehead where lied her depraved soul. The memory it held, her innermost secrets, the experiences of her lifespan… and the essence of this master she so faithfully served.

Now, show me the transcript of your little plot.

[Archive]