Tenra lounged by the embassy window, stifling a yawn as he gazed over the cityscape. The late afternoon light spilled across the room, painting everything in a lazy gold.
Mittelt stood at his side, immaculate in her crisp white maid dress—today's persona, chosen from her endless wardrobe of cosplay. Petite and ever-dutiful, Mittelt's daily costumes had evolved from personal hobby to full-time devotion: every outfit now selected with one goal in mind—capturing her master's attention.
If she managed to catch Tenra's eye, he'd reward her in his own way, sometimes tearing her clothes off with impatient hands. Today, she was still waiting on his verdict.
Across the room, Kalawarner perched on the window ledge, hands braced behind her, cheeks flushed pink. Tenra's fingers traced lazy patterns along her alabaster thigh, eliciting shivers she tried—and failed—to hide.
Unlike Mittelt's dainty frame, Kalawarner was tall and statuesque, her long legs a particular favorite of Tenra's. He liked to toy with them, and she endured the teasing with a mixture of embarrassment and pride; being singled out for his attention was an honor she wouldn't trade for anything.
Kalawarner could easily school her features into icy composure, but she'd learned Tenra preferred her genuine reactions—the trembling, the blush, the barely-suppressed anticipation.
The third of the fallen angel trio, Raynare, was otherwise occupied, kneeling at Tenra's feet and hungrily seeking a taste of his life force. It was a scene of decadent harmony—a master and his devoted retainers, each playing their part.
It was now the third day since Tenra's group had arrived in Tepes territory.
The vampire who'd escorted them here had promised to report their arrival to the palace, then promptly vanished. No audience, no formal reception—just silence, and a growing sense of being stonewalled.
Tenra was usually patient, but this was testing his limits. Next time he saw that vampire, he'd be lucky to escape with his head still attached.
For three days, no one had come to trouble them, nor to welcome them. But the embassy was ringed by watchful eyes—plainclothes guards, magical sensors, and spies lurking in every shadow. House arrest, dressed up as hospitality.
Tenra had no intention of waiting around like a fool. If no one came to him, he'd go looking for answers himself.
Just then, the door opened.
"Tenra-sama, we've returned."
Yubelluna and the rest of the girls entered, bowing with practiced grace.
"Well? Yubelluna, did you find anything?"
Yubelluna hesitated, her expression apologetic.
"There are vampires watching us everywhere. The city's civilians are openly hostile. It's been almost impossible to gather information."
Tenra waved her concern aside.
"No need to worry. Just tell me what you did learn."
Yubelluna nodded.
"We did uncover something strange. According to Miss Elmenhilde's intelligence, the Tepes vampires staged a coup—their king disappeared, maybe fled. But the city's common vampires don't seem to know anything about it."
Tenra's eyes narrowed, interest piqued.
"So the coup succeeded without the regular folk even realizing? That means plenty of traitors among the upper ranks. Fascinating."
He stretched, rolling his shoulders.
"Alright, you can stop gathering intel. Go take a break."
"Yes, Tenra-sama."
The girls bowed again and slipped out, leaving the room quiet.
A soft gulping sound broke the silence—Raynare, finally sated, wiped her mouth and glanced up, disappointed she hadn't gotten her fill.
"You three can go, too."
Tenra released Kalawarner's leg and stroked Raynare's cheek, gentle but firm.
The fallen angels exchanged a look, bowed, and left without protest. Master's orders were absolute.
"Finally back?"
A figure emerged from the shadows—Grayfia, her presence as cool and sharp as ever.
Yubelluna and the others had served as decoys, drawing attention from the real spy. Grayfia was the one who'd gone digging for secrets.
She wasted no time.
"I found traces of Khaos Brigade in Tepes. They were involved in the coup."
Tenra's eyes flashed, surprise flickering across his face.
"Khaos Brigade? They've managed to worm their way in here too... Is it Cao Cao again?"
He hadn't heard from that bastard in ages. Tenra had stolen his Sacred Gear, but Cao Cao wasn't the type to disappear quietly—he was surely lurking, plotting a comeback.
Grayfia shook her head, lips curving in a knowing smile.
"Not Cao Cao. Someone far more troublesome."
Tenra frowned.
"More troublesome than him? Who?"
Grayfia's answer was calm, almost amused.
"Rizevim Livan Lucifer. I'm sure you've heard the name."
Tenra went still, eyes narrowing.
He hadn't just heard it—he knew it intimately. Rizevim Livan Lucifer—the "Lilin" of legend, son of the true Demon King Lucifer and Lilith, mother of all demons. Vali's grandfather.
In the old era, when the original Demon Kings ruled the Underworld, Rizevim, Sirzechs Gremory, and Ajuka Astaroth were known as the "Transcendents"—beings whose abilities defied the limits of ordinary devils, so unique that even their own kind questioned whether they were truly devils at all.
After the old Demon Kings fell, the Old Satan Faction led by Rizevim clashed violently with the Reformists under Sirzechs and Ajuka. But in the midst of that war, Rizevim vanished, allowing the reformers to seize power and lead the Underworld into a new era.
Truth be told, Rizevim was the true heart of the Old Satan Faction. Compared to him, the likes of Shalba Beelzebub, Creuserey Asmodeus, and Katerea Leviathan were mere footnotes—junior players in a much larger game.
Tenra felt a headache coming on. If Rizevim was involved, things were about to get complicated.
And worst of all, Rizevim's powers were a direct counter to Tenra's own.
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