At three hundred years of age, Miss Kirie Kagarino was a vampire of considerable vintage. As a long-lived being who had seldom faced true peril, her existence had been one of unbroken indulgence.
Consequently, her residence was a place of exquisite magnificence.
Like all French manors designed to evoke a heartfelt return to nature, her home was an ornament set amidst the lush landscape, radiating a potent vitality and an immersive natural aura. The architecture, much like the grand estates of Shenzhou, was built upon an imposing axial symmetry, creating a sense of balanced, majestic scale. The interior, in turn, was a sanctuary of opulent comfort.
"Exquisite taste."
After reducing every reanimated corpse-butler to ash with a flick of his wrist, a certain someone settled himself unceremoniously onto the sofa that should have belonged to Miss Kirie and lit a stick of incense.
Li Zihan was thoroughly satisfied with the accommodations.
As a vampire of refined sensibilities, Miss Kirie was particular about fragrances and fond of bathing, evidenced by the truly enormous bathtub. By a happy coincidence, Li Zihan was also a connoisseur of incense and large tubs. He naturally commandeered it all.
"Prepare a cup of black tea for me."
Like a nobleman addressing his personal maid, the young man on the sofa turned and issued a command to the villa's true master.
Under normal circumstances, had anyone dared to speak to Miss Kirie in such a manner, she would have ensured they learned the definition of cruelty.
But—
These were not normal circumstances.
Standing behind the scumbag, the vampire girl was still trembling.
Her beautiful, silver hair was bound in twin tails, cascading silkily down her back. She was dressed in a perfectly tailored maid's uniform, its short skirt adorned with a profusion of frills, lace, and large bows that did wonders to accentuate her figure. The ribbon tied at her waist cinched her slender frame, and as she bent to her task, the hem of her skirt shifted, revealing the garter straps connecting to her white stockings and the generous expanse of pale, supple skin beneath.
Her current profession was, quite clearly, maid.
If she could, Kirie Kagarino would wish she had never gone for that walk. If she hadn't gone for that walk, she wouldn't have found herself on that street. If she hadn't been on that street, she wouldn't have taken the train home, walked alone through the wilderness, and attempted to bait a trap. If she hadn't baited a trap, she wouldn't have encountered those boxes. If she hadn't encountered those boxes…
The girl with hair like snow and eyes like rubies stared at the young man sitting in what should have been her seat, her expression a mask of living death—the look of someone who wished to die but was denied even that release.
The reason was simple.
She had met the King of the Underworld.
Nergal, the ancient Sumerian sun god, was the embodiment of the sun's searing, fearsome heat and its scorching flames. But because the high temperatures of Mesopotamia often spawned pestilence, he was also the god of plagues. The death that followed in the wake of disease, combined with the imagery of the setting sun, eventually expanded his divine portfolio to include death itself, to the point where, in some myths, he usurped the original queen of the underworld entirely.
He was the master of the blazing sun and the sovereign of the netherworld.
He was also—
The absolute predator of the undead.
No, "predator" wasn't quite right. More accurately, to this king who straddled the line between life and death, an undead creature like her was nothing more than a disgusting fly with its wings and legs torn off, buzzing uselessly.
With a single thought from him, she would be dragged to hell.
Her life held entirely in another's grasp, the venom-tongued, prideful vampire trembled like a cornered quail as she inexpertly retrieved her private stash of tea leaves and began to brew a cup for the usurper.
As the curvaceous girl bowed, the angle of her body caused the hem of her beautiful dress to ride up, no longer sufficient to conceal its secrets. The straps of her garter belt became visible, along with the pale, enchanting skin they framed. The semi-sheer white silk of her stockings contrasted against her full thighs, creating a truly bewitching sight.
As expected of an eroge protagonist. Very nice indeed, was Li Zihan's primary thought.
She's completely different from the ones I'm used to.
The young man, who had once crossed paths with the Black Knight Sturlut and that insufferable gay, the White Knight, sighed internally as he compared the Dead Apostles he knew to the trembling creature before him.
This one couldn't form contracts through blood-drinking, couldn't wield a demonic sword, and certainly couldn't manifest a reality marble to summon a spectral legion. A blood-kin whose entire repertoire consisted of petty tricks like mist transformation and hypnosis… if she were in the Nasuverse, being turned into a blood-soaked plushie would be a merciful fate. More likely, she'd end up staked by the Holy Church, pickled in formaldehyde by a magus, or simply devoured by her own kind.
She's led a charmed life.
Li Zihan, who had faced death numerous times despite the protection of Zelretch, mused as he watched the silver-haired, red-eyed girl.
And then—
A hand clamped down on his waist and twisted.
This was not the performative pinch of Miss Pufferfish, nor was it the hesitant, testing pinch of Ana, who would immediately check to see if she had hurt him. This was like being caught in a mechanic's vise that was then given a full, brutal turn.
The long-forgotten sensation of pain made Li Zihan's lip twitch.
He turned his head to see the strongest goose in history offering him a smile that held no warmth whatsoever.
For various reasons, Miss Fu Hua, ever the guardian of Shenzhou, had departed for a country far to the west of the Far East. That left only Li Zihan and this apex goose. Well, not entirely true. That shut-in fox who had renounced the outside world was also here, though she refused to make an appearance.
"As a guest, forcing your host into a maid outfit to serve you tea… isn't that taking things a bit too far?"
The reason for the blonde Valkyrie's anger was most definitely not that the man with the authority of an underworld king was exploiting a vampire. Her azure eyes glittered with an icy amusement.
It was patently obvious that the scumbag's lingering gaze on the trembling vampire had triggered a certain crisis sensor in this tsundere goose. It was only natural. While his divinity might be akin to Hades, his personality was undeniably closer to Zeus. Having a lover who was practically the reincarnation of Zeus meant that with the slightest lapse in vigilance, a new hat—the very same color as her green dress—might just materialize on her head.
"Is it?" asked the person in question, who was being pinched precisely because his gaze had lingered too long. He wore a look of perfect innocence.
"We came here to eliminate the enemies destroying this world, did we not?" Dull Goose pressed, her eyes flicking to the blood-kin who had left a house full of corpses and was clearly some sort of villain. She briefly considered whether "consorting with the master of the house"—ahem, "being an evil entity"—was grounds for a physical exorcism.
"Oh, that sort of thing isn't particularly urgent," the suspect chuckled lightly. He then turned to the clearly jealous girl and made his first proposal.
"Compared to dealing with our enemies, isn't our date a little more important?"