Fudge the leopard?! Seriously, fudge the leopard! I’m about to fudge a leopard—

This isn’t a joke.

“Mew?”

A soft, warm sensation filled my palm, paired with a subtle firmness beneath it. As I pressed down, the creature pinned beneath me on the bed let out an innocent, clueless sound.

“A-choo—!”

She was completely bare, nestled in luxurious black velvet bedding. A chilly draft swept in, and the demon I’d summoned sneezed. She rubbed her reddened nose, her large, prominent beast ears trembling.

Then, she greedily tugged at my thick, heat-trapping cloak, trying another tactic to shatter my resolve—

“Dark Lord,” she cooed, angelic smile laced with unintentional allure, “hold me close—I’m freezing after being summoned.”

That smile made my choice for me—

“OOOOOHHHHHHH—!”

I roared with all my might. Veins bulged on my arms as I channeled the Dark Lord’s power, lunging not at her, but at the silent figure standing behind me: the Head Maid.

A poised, elegant woman with long purple hair. She wore a floor-length maid dress, hands folded neatly before her—undoubtedly a maid, yet radiating quiet dignity.

But what truly stole attention were her *generous curves*.

“CECILIA! LET ME SQUEEZE YOUR CHEST!!!”

*Boobs!*

*Boobs boobs boobs boobs!* What’s wrong with men liking boobs?!

I needed Cecilia’s chest to cool my overheating brain!

*CRACK—*

In the next instant, the motionless maid moved.

Faster than the eye could follow, she seized my left wrist. A fluid elbow strike smashed into my face. Before pain registered, I was hurled overhead, then pinned to the air like a pincushion by countless phantom spikes.

As the broken sack of Dark Lord flesh hit the floor, I dragged my last strength across the carpet in bloody letters:

*Slayer of Dark Lords: Cecilia—*

“Stop disgracing yourself with that worm-scribble handwriting, Dark Lord.”

A sturdy high-heeled boot ground into my face, relentless. Even glimpsing the black lace garter biting into Cecilia’s plump thigh beneath her short skirt brought zero joy—

I, Xia, the Daytime Overlord—one of the Demon Race’s eighteen sovereigns—felt utterly despondent today. Deeply, deeply glum.

“Lord Ouse, please wear this.”

Cecilia produced an Overlord-grade cloak from nowhere, draping it over the beast-eared girl still seated on the bed. Her violet eyes held no ripple of emotion.

“Thanks~” The beast-eared girl beamed. “But I’m not Ouse. Ouse is my father~ I’m Ona, his youngest daughter.”

Sun-kissed skin. Ash-blond, wavy hair. Dangerous crimson demon eyes. Fluffy, oversized beast ears. A long leopard tail swaying lazily. Her legs pressed together just enough to preserve modesty. Ona grinned at me, unsettlingly sweet.

“In the name of Demon God Ouse, I, Ona, pledge eternal servitude to you—Dark Lord.”

The beast-eared Overlord demon flashed gleaming fangs. She had no idea of the turmoil inside me.

“…What in the abyss is happening…”

Though battered, I sprang up like nothing happened. Staring at Ona, a headache throbbed behind my eyes.

My vision of a hulking, scar-faced brute—eight feet tall, muscles like coiled ropes—had shattered against reality.

I was a Dark Lord. Intel warned a Champion squad would storm my hideout today. I’d planned to scare them off with some hideous minion. But scanning my followers… not a single ugly face among them!

“This won’t do!”

A Dark Lord’s vanguard—the terror that crushed rookie Champions—*must* be grotesque! Ugliness scared off novices. It intimidated veterans. Most importantly, it spread panic. That’s what I lived for.

Finding not one truly hideous subordinate—even the lowliest looked like generic NPCs—I’d dug out a dusty summoning tome. After hours relearning forgotten rituals, I’d called forth a demon.

Never expecting a delicate beast-eared girl instead of my eight-foot brute!

What was this?! War wasn’t won by making enemies die of lust!

“Hmph~ Dark Lord is so mean,” Ona pouted, blinking rapidly until her eyes glistened. Her ears drooped. Instantly, she transformed into a fragile, heartbroken maiden.

And I became the villain.

“Ahem… no, I just needed to… compose myself.”

I cleared my throat, glancing pointedly at Cecilia.

“Oh~ I see! So I *do* have charm~”

Ona’s gaze flicked between us, then she giggled.

“…Troublesome,” I thought silently. But I sighed. “The Champions are coming. What now?”

I needed a terrifying demon to scare them off. Experience taught me sending cute girls against Champions was like offering prime steak—they’d just get added to the harem. With Ona’s looks? I’d never risk it. An eight-foot scarred brute would charge in swinging. No negotiations. No drama.

“Hehe, what’s troubling Master?” Ona wriggled, her cloak barely covering her curves. “Tell me—I’ll help!”

“The Dark Lord seeks to repel the approaching Champions,” Cecilia interjected with a slight bow.

“Champions?” Ona’s eyebrows lifted, intrigued. “Send me! I’ll perform splendidly!”

“NO! Absolutely not!”

I leapt up. “You’re *not* going!”

“?” Ona blinked, confused. “Do you doubt my strength…?”

“No,” Cecilia stated flatly. “The Dark Lord fears you’d be swayed by their silver tongues and return to assassinate him. It’s happened before. He won’t send beautiful girls against Champions. It’s not about trust or power.”

“Oh… I understand now.” Ona nodded eagerly.

“Sigh… I meant to summon your father to handle this. This isn’t what I planned…”

I rubbed my lips, frustrated. Then my eyes drifted over Ona’s tempting figure. My worries vanished.

“Eh, you’re here now. Whatever.” I waved grandly. “From today, you’re my maid. Cecilia will outfit you.”

“Understood.” Ona wiggled her bare toes, nodding.

“But Master… the Champions?”

“Forget them!” I twirled, humming tunelessly. “How many Champions have tried to take my head over the years? I fear this squad?”

“Oh~ I see.” Ona chirped.

“DARK LORD! DARK LOR—Eeep?!”

A child’s voice rang from the doorway. I turned just as the door burst open. A Sun Elf stood there.

Golden hair. Crimson eyes. Milk-pale skin. Curled locks framing a long bang. A gothic dress hugged her petite frame. A collar circled her neck.

“…So the Dark Lord truly despises my modest figure?”

Wuluwu froze mid-step, staring at Ona’s barely-covered form. Her voice trembled.

“Wait, Lulu—let me explain…” I reached out.

“No need, Dark Lord.” She shook her head, smiling sadly. “I know your desires. It’s my fault… my body fails to stir you…” She began backing out. “Enjoy yourself. I’ll handle the Champions.”

“WULUWU, WAIT! It’s not what you think! Cecilia, explain! And find someone terrifying to scare those Champions off!”

Looking at Wuluwu's dazzling smile, I felt a chill run down my spine. Usually, when she grinned this brightly, it meant someone was in for trouble.

"Dark Lord, have you forgotten something again?" Cecilia asked respectfully.

"Huh?"

"There's absolutely no scary-looking person in our group."

"...Damn, how could I forget this again?" I clutched my head miserably—