"An... adventurer?"

Crenina’s confusion deepened. She had sensed the true nature of the man behind her—yet that truth only made things harder to grasp.

A colorless, pure essence coiled up the man’s wrist. Things normally invisible were being absorbed by him. Everything felt absurd, surreal.

"I won’t... let you succeed!"

Crenina still had a trace of strength left. She forced her uncooperative body to raise the Holy Sword—then plunged it easily into her own soft abdomen.

*Shhk.*

"What!?"

The man was lean and tall. Crenina’s blade couldn’t pierce both her body and his at once.

That was precisely what startled him.

Agony twisted Crenina’s beautiful face, yet a weary smile broke through—a pure, triumphant smile.

*Shhk!*

Filthy blood stained the pure, noble Holy Sword. A thick aura of evil and ill omen filled the street. The stench of blood, sharp enough to choke on, carried terror like a cloud of congealed gore.

"Get back, ally!"

Ariana, collapsed on the ground, snapped her eyes open. She shouted with every ounce of strength left.

"Tch!"

The man called "ally" gritted his teeth, trying to pull free—but his right hand was locked tight. The channel meant to steal souls was now flooded with Crenina’s corrupted blood.

*Shhk!*

Razor-sharp blades erupted from Crenina’s flesh. Thorn-like swords sprouted across her body like a hedgehog’s spines. They crept toward the man, claiming his arm as their own.

"Adventurers... revive elsewhere even after death, right?"

Crenina’s eyelids drooped, but her smile remained—like royalty embracing death.

"Then I’ll make sure you never die. You’ll live forever... enduring a thousand blades piercing your flesh."

*Shhk!*

"Vampire Secret Art: Coffin of Blood Blades!"

A massive blood coffin materialized—a cruel Iron Maiden—ready to entomb the man and Crenina’s sword-riddled form together.

At the last second, the man severed his right arm—now twisted into blades—and scrambled out of the coffin.

Just as no one knew how he’d appeared here, no one saw how he escaped that eternal prison.

Ariana shakily pulled out a pale blue potion and drained it. Crude in craft, its effect was instant. Clarity returned to her eyes; her body regained slight mobility.

But this potion only offered a fleeting surge of strength—a stopgap until real healing. Its actual curative power was minimal.

"Ally. Status?"

She pushed herself up, addressing the one-armed man standing far from the blood coffin.

"Fine. Lost limbs are just temporary glitches for adventurers. The right item restores them instantly."

The young man—sharp-featured and clean-cut—opened his menu. With practiced taps from his left hand, his right arm regenerated.

A shame. Such a hard-won chance, yet he’d failed to claim the Vampire Princess’s soul.

"We must leave. The Demon King’s army will arrive soon."

As Ariana spoke, knights appeared at the street’s end.

"Now that the biggest obstacle is gone... I must prepare swiftly for His descent."

......

"Mmmph..."

Ledyah curled on a lavish bed, hugging a plush pillow. Her brows furrowed as she endured a throbbing headache.

Last night’s drinking had left her stomach still uncomfortably full.

"Mrrrow..."

Like a blackout drunk, she tried to sit up—but her limp limbs refused. Her head pounded as if split by an axe.

Last night’s Succubus Milk had clashed violently with her limit-breaking drugs. A harsh lesson: never mix extreme enhancers with potent Succubus Milk.

Especially Noah’s.

Still, the Demon King’s constitution prevailed. After absorbing every drop of the milk, Ledyah exhaled deeply. Energy surged through her. She threw off the covers and stepped down.

With a crisp motion, she slipped into an elegant gown. Rubbing her temples, she chased away the lingering haze—but a faint blush remained on her cheeks.

*2 PM!?*

Spotting the time, Ledyah’s eyes widened. She dashed out the door toward the Demon King’s office.

She took her royal duties with rigid seriousness. Not that she distrusted her subordinates—she simply needed to confirm no irreversible chaos had erupted during her absence.

Though Ledyah hadn’t eaten in over twelve hours, she felt no hunger. Warmth bloomed in her belly, energy flooding her veins.

Noah’s fluids carried exceptional healing and nourishment. True to her title as Healing Saintess, she treated Demon Race and human alike.

Her restorative power was so potent that even a trace could revive the weary. And Ledyah had greedily consumed to saturation.

After all, Noah’s core job was healer. A healer’s "milk supply" being excessive? Perfectly normal.

Ledyah jogged down the Demon King’s Castle corridors, weaving through gardens. The royal office was steps away—

Then she froze.

Before her, curled like a giant cat beneath dappled shade, basking in the afternoon sun, lay a pure white dragon girl.