POV: Meruem
"Dammit, he lost, nya," the cat-girl groaned, sprawled across his bed in complete impunity while watching TV.
On the screen, a Rating Game match had just ended. Rudiger Rosenkreutz had resigned against Diehauser Belial. He had fought valiantly, pushing himself to the very edge, but few could stand against the emperor of the Rating Game and walk away victorious.
Rudiger was no ordinary devil. He was the only reincarnated devil in history to ever reach the rank of an ultimate-class devil, and he stood seventh in the official game ratings.
To reincarnated devils everywhere, he was a hero, living proof that with enough talent and a bit of luck, one could claw their way to the very top.
It had become something of a tradition that during his matches, reincarnated devils cheered for him almost unanimously. Kuroka was no exception.
"How much did you lose?" Meruem asked, amusement clear in his voice. He knew Kuroka's habits well. She loved gambling on sports, and Rating Games were her greatest weakness.
"All of my savings," Kuroka said, tears pooling in her eyes. "Even the ones I put away for emergency use."
"And you deemed it wise to bet against the one guy known for never losing a Rating Game?" Rossweisse asked, disbelief written plainly on her face. She looked genuinely stunned by the yokai's complete lack of financial sense.
Rossweisse was seated on a chair a good distance away from Kuroka, very much by design. The cat yokai had a habit of getting intensely passionate during games, reacting in the moment like an overzealous sports fan.
That passion often spilled over onto anyone within reach, through aggressive cuddling, sudden kisses, or sharp nails digging into skin without her even realizing it. Rossweisse had endured enough surprise groping and unsolicited affection to learn her lesson.
"The odds were really high," Kuroka said, pouting as her tail flicked irritably. "I could've been really rich if it wasn't for this rigged ass game."
"You can't just call the game rigged every time you lose due to your poor decision-making skills," Rossweisse snapped indignantly.
"Stop bullying me," Kuroka whined. "You're supposed to comfort this poor, innocent kitten who just lost all her money, nya. How can you be so cruel?"
"It was totally avoidable!" Rossweisse shouted. "And you are not innocent."
"Bold thing to say for someone within a cuddlable range," Kuroka replied with a wide, predatory grin.
She pounced in an instant, arms wrapping around Rossweisse from behind and dragging her into a tight embrace. Rossweisse yelped in surprise as Kuroka pressed her body flush against hers.
The cat-girl's hands wandered shamelessly, squeezing Rossweisse's soft chest through her clothes while her warm breath brushed against Rossweisse's ear. A slow, deliberate lick followed, sending a shiver straight down Rossweisse's spine.
The closeness, the heat, and Kuroka's unapologetic touch made the scene undeniably arousing.
"Hmmm," Rossweisse moaned despite herself, her face burning red. "S-stop that."
Kuroka purred softly, her grin turning smug. "Not so brave now, are you?" she murmured in a sultry voice. Rossweisse squirmed in her grasp. "Hmm, what's that? Cat got your tongue?"
Rossweisse answered with a long, suffering stare, the look of someone who had heard the same joke far too many times.
"My king, do something," she pleaded at last. "She won't let go."
"Kuroka!" Meruem said sternly, his voice sharp and authoritative. "How dare you cuddle with my queen… without me?"
The brief spark of hope on Rossweisse's face vanished instantly as she realized he was joining in instead of helping. Kuroka, on the other hand, purred loudly, her mischievous grin widening.
With ease, Meruem scooped them both up and carried them to the bed. Soon enough, both he and Kuroka were cuddling Rossweisse from either side, trapping her in warmth and soft pressure. They even committed lewd acts like holding hands.
After a couple minutes of teasing his queen, the three of them simply lay together on the bed. Meruem rested in the middle, broad and solid, while the girls clung to him from either side.
Rossweisse was very clearly using his body as a protective wall to keep Kuroka at bay, pressing herself close to him whenever the cat yokai so much as twitched. Meruem did not complain in the slightest.
"I meant what I said earlier," Rossweisse said, her tone firm despite how comfortable she looked. "You really should stop with the gambling."
"It's not gambling if I know what I'm doing," Kuroka replied petulantly, her tail flicking once.
"So you knowingly lost all your savings?" Rossweisse asked skeptically.
"That was…. a slight miscalculation, nya."
"Sure it was," Rossweisse said dryly.
"We've got the fun police over here," Kuroka teased.
"I am not the fun police," Rossweisse protested. "..right?" she added, glancing at Meruem for support, which only made Kuroka grin wider.
Rossweisse tended to take everything seriously, sometimes even to her own detriment.
"Well," Meruem said calmly, deliberately ignoring her question, "ninety percent of gamblers quit right before they are about to make a big win."
"You are just encouraging her," Rossweisse said in disbelief.
"See? Even my magnificent king thinks gambling is smart, nya," Kuroka said smugly. "And he is like the coolest and smartest person ever, so he can't be wrong."
"You are just flattering him so that he gives you money," Rossweisse accused.
"I did no such thing," Kuroka replied with offended dignity. "I am merely stating a fact."
"What is the point of having money if you can't gamble it all away?" Meruem said proudly, and absolutely not just because he wanted to have kinky sex with Kuroka. Really.
"I can see why you two get along so well," Rossweisse said flatly. "You are both gambling addicts."
"Don't lump me in with her," Meruem said, genuinely offended. "I actually know what I am doing. When I make a bet, I usually win."
"That is only because you don't take huge risks," Kuroka shot back.
"You mean like betting on Rudiger?" Meruem asked, unimpressed. Kuroka nodded proudly. "There is a difference between taking risks and stupidly throwing your money away. But, what would a Rudiger fan know about winning?"
Rating Games were to devils what major sports were to humans. They were not simply competitions, but massive cultural events. Matches were broadcast across the underworld, filling stadiums and private halls alike.
Noble devils, reincarnated devils, and common devils all watched side by side, cheering, arguing, and placing bets with the same fervor humans reserved for soccer finals or championship basketball games.
High-ranking players were celebrities, heroes, and icons all at once. Their names were known across factions, their strategies dissected endlessly, their victories celebrated for years.
The top ten ranked players were something beyond mere athletes. Each of them was effectively a franchise of their own, commanding fanbases that bordered on cult-like devotion. Entire territories rallied behind them, families passed down loyalties from generation to generation, and rivalries could spark arguments that lasted centuries. Supporting a player was a point of pride, identity, and sometimes misery.
Kuroka, like most reincarnated devils, was a devoted Rudiger fan. Meruem, on the other hand, only followed the Rating Games sporadically. He never truly saw the appeal, though he did enjoy watching Diehauser crush his opponents from time to time.
"At least I am not a Ruval Phenex fan," Kuroka retorted with a visible shiver, side-eyeing Rossweisse. "Imagine all the kids in Phenex territory who have no choice but to support Ruval. A fate worse than death."
Unlike many reincarnated devils, Rossweisse was a passionate fan of Ruval Phenex, seeing him as her inspiration for reasons that still remained a mystery to Meruem.
Ruval Phenex's team, the Golden Phoenix, was ranked tenth and had been for half a century, despite his legendary dedication and relentless efforts to improve his ranking.
He had challenged every other player in the top ten and never once claimed a victory. He and his fanbase were perpetually mocked by rival supporters.
"Real parents would stop the cycle of abuse," Meruem said with mock sympathy.
"No, real parents would never deprive their kids of their legacy," Kuroka said seriously.
"What legacy?" Meruem asked, amused.
"Pure disappointment," Kuroka replied with a snicker.
Meruem burst out laughing, Kuroka joining him instantly.
"You two are horrible," Rossweisse said. "He is talented and hardworking. He will make you eat your words one day."
"Sure," Kuroka said, struggling to suppress her laughter. "In like a thousand years."
"It has been, what, fifty years since he last won any meaningful game?" Meruem added with a chuckle.
Kuroka suddenly stood up, adopting a grave, sage-like posture. "You see, son," she said, mimicking an old man's voice, "long ago, before man walked on the moon, our Golden Phoenix was a champion."
Meruem laughed even harder, and even Rossweisse could not stop herself from chuckling.
"DAMMIT SON, WHEN WILL YOU UNDERSTAND?!?" Meruem bellowed, mimicking the voice of a long-suffering fan. "The Golden Phoenix… they'll only break your heart – is probably what better parents would say."
Meruem and Kuroka laughed hysterically, piling on jokes that only made it worse, much to Rossweisse's irritation. Meruem felt no pity. Becoming a Ruval fan had been a conscious choice on her part, unlike the many children who had simply been born into it.
He adjusted the straps at his waist and took a moment to look himself over. The armor sat close to the body and followed the lines of his torso instead of forcing it into hard plates.
The chest piece was made from overlapping leaf-shaped segments, each one thin, slightly curved, and etched with fine patterns that looked like runes or plant veins. The metal carried a pale gold tone with traces of silver in the edges, polished enough to catch light without reflecting like a mirror.
The shoulder guards were the widest part. They flared outward in layered sheets, light but rigid, and were fixed to the breastplate with narrow hinges so they could move with his arms. The arm guards ran from wrist to upper arm in long, tapered pieces.
"You look like an elven prince straight out of a fairy tale, nya," Kuroka said in a flirtatious voice, her golden eyes roaming appreciatively over the armor he wore.
"We are going to kidn–, I mean rescue, a princess," he replied calmly. "I thought I might as well look the part of the dashing hero."
Kuroka chuckled softly. "Must be quite the lucky girl," she said, smiling in a way that showed more teeth than strictly necessary.
He leaned closer and sniffed the air theatrically. "Hmm. What is that smell?" he said, sniffing the air theatrically. "It reeks of jealousy in here."
"Well, you never put this much effort in when you recruited me," she said with a playful pout, perfectly playing the role of a jealous girlfriend.
"I would have if you had not kept stubbornly refusing my offer," he replied, recalling just how distrustful she had been of him in the beginning.
"That was before I knew you were so rich," Kuroka said with a smirk.
She slipped her arms around his neck, holding his gaze without hesitation.
"Is that all you see in me?" he asked with mock hurt. "…A sugar daddy?"
"Yes," she answered immediately. "Plus you are ridiculously good in bed, and that trick you do with your tongue is …heavenly."
"I will take the small wins, I guess," he said with a shrug. "Can you help me put on my cape?"
She lifted the red cape bearing the seven-pointed star of House Beleth and fastened it to his armor, humming as she worked, clearly enjoying the ceremony of it. When she finished, he looked every bit the noble knight.
"Oh babe, trust me. There is nothing small about that," she murmured, her hands wandering lower, brushing boldly against his crotch.
Meruem chuckled as she finished. When he met her eyes, he noticed a hesitation there, something unspoken lingering beneath her teasing grin. It was one of her tells. Whenever she grew nervous, the innuendos multiplied, a shield of bravado she hid behind.
"What is wrong?" he asked gently, well aware that beneath her bold exterior she was far more sensitive than she liked to admit.
She sighed and moved to his bed, sitting down slowly. Her gaze dropped to the floor as she played with a strand of her hair. He remained standing, watching her quietly.
"Are you sure it is wise to bring me here?" she asked at last. "With how infamous you are in the underworld, someone will figure out who I really am sooner or later."
"So?" he said with a casual shrug. "That is exactly why I made no effort to hide your identity. If anyone expects that I will simply hand you over to be imprisoned, they will be sorely disappointed."
"Meruem, let's be realistic," she said, lifting her eyes to meet his. "I killed a member of the nobility. One of the pillars at that. The moment they find out about me, the council will act."
"You overestimate their reach," he replied evenly. "They can make demands, yes. But ours is the House of Kings. If anyone dares to demand anything of us, we can simply refuse."
The kingly House of Beleth was among the few granted the rank of king by Lucifer Morningstar himself. Both a military and political powerhouse, it stood at the very apex of the underworld's hierarchy, surpassed only by House Bael and the Satans themselves.
They held votes in both the legislative and judicial branches of government and wielded immense influence as one of the principal houses that had supported the current Satans during the civil war.
"You perhaps," she said quietly. "But would your father truly be willing to make enemies of all the pillar houses just to protect a lowly devil?"
The honest answer was no. His father, or anyone with even a shred of common sense, would never risk their entire standing for a reincarnated devil. No matter how exceptional she was, such a move would be political suicide.
"He would not," Meruem answered truthfully. "But I would. I gave you my word that I would protect you from harm to the best of my abilities, did I not? And it will never come to that anyway."
"H-how can you be so sure?" Kuroka asked. "House Naberius can petition the Satans directly. Even you can't do anything against that."
"They can," Meruem conceded. "Yet they won't. They can make things inconvenient since they are a pillar house, but they don't want their secret experiment about creating a super devil to become public or known to the Satans. That would invite scrutiny they cannot afford."
"That is a lot of assumptions, Meru," Kuroka said with a weak smile. "Everything hinges on how you think they would act."
"Less assumption and more logical conclusion," he said with a shrug. "What exactly are you afraid of?"
"It's just…" Kuroka began slowly. "I like it here…ok?.. I like you and Rose. Whatever it is we have here. I don't want to ruin it. I don't want to cause you trouble."
"You won't," he said gently. "I chose you to be my bishop knowing the risks involved. And you know I never gamble. Have a bit of faith, will you?"
In truth, her worries were unnecessary, even if understandable. She did not fully grasp the intricate politics of the underworld. The reality was that Meruem carried immense importance. House Beleth would go to war for him if it came to that. His special nature alone made him invaluable.
That was without accounting for the influence and power he would gain through his rings of power. Already, nobles were prostrating themselves like eager dogs begging for a scrap of attention.
It was thanks to his mother handling the endless business matters that he had any free time at all, considering the flood of invitations arriving daily, whether for political dealings or simple social appearances.
Even House Furfur had pardoned him for killing their heir, solely because they recognized the value of his rings and his potential as the first individual in over five hundred years to inherit the full Shrine of Pride.
House Naberius would sooner kneel and kiss the ground he walked on just to earn a moment of his attention, let alone pursue Kuroka.
"To go to war against the entirety of Hell," she said with a quiet laugh, "...is my pussy really that good?"
"The best," he replied with a perfectly serious expression.
She laughed. He could see that she wasn't entirely convinced, but that was natural. She will learn in time to trust him. Action speaks louder than words after all.
"By the way," she added suddenly, changing the subject, "I saw your sister."
With him living alongside his family in the castle, it was inevitable that his peerage would cross paths with his siblings.
"Which one?"
"The elder," she answered. "Princess Athaliah. It was only brief and we didn't really interact, but I sensed something weird about her life force."
"What do you mean?" he asked, intrigued.
His elder sister had always kept her distance from the rest of the family. In the past, Meruem had mocked her relentlessly for inheriting the position of heir over her and for what he saw as her inadequacies.
Curiously, she was no closer to their younger sibling either. Perhaps the significant age gap played a role, given that she had already been in her early sixties when Meruem was born.
"It felt off," Kuroka said thoughtfully. "I cannot fully explain it. Her life force didn't feel like it truly belonged to her. Or rather, it felt like she was not entirely in control of herself. Like a puppet being guided by unseen strings."
That was alarming. He would have to look into it and determine whether foul play was involved.
"I see," he said, putting it into the list of things to do.
"But be careful," Kuroka said. "I only had a brief look into her. I could just be mistaken."
"Don't worry. I'll be careful."
A knock came at the door, and moments later Rossweisse entered in her Valkyrie armor, composed and formal.
"Shall we depart now, my king?" she asked.
"We are still missing one member," he replied with a grin.
Both women groaned at the same time.
"Why do we have to ride in this thing?" Rossweisse complained. "We can literally just teleport."
"What kind of prince rescues a princess without a mount?"
"A prince rides a beautiful stallion," Kuroka shot back. "...Not whatever this is."
"Watch how you speak," Meruem said, pointing at the monster beneath them. "You are going to hurt Cupcake's feelings. He has feelings too, you know."
Cupcake nodded all three heads enthusiastically.
"We are not calling that thing Cupcake," Rossweisse groaned.
"Isn't he the cutest creature ever?" Meruem asked with delight.
The creature in question was a three headed shark nearly fifty meters long, each maw lined with teeth longer than the height of the tallest human. It did not swim through water. It swam through the air itself, carving invisible currents with every movement, accelerating to terrifying speeds and leaving storms and shockwaves in its wake.
Wherever it passed, forests were flattened, clouds torn apart, and the land below scarred as if by a natural disaster.
Its bodies were a mess of eyes. Thirty two of them were scattered across the three massive heads, rolling independently and reflecting light with a sickly sheen that made it impossible to tell what it was truly looking at. No blind spot existed for it.
Born from a warped mutation within the Eye of the Pit, the monster was a living engine of annihilation. It wielded elemental powers that warped its surroundings, could turn intangible at will, and possessed physical strength capable of tearing through fortresses.
Meruem had tamed it only after it escaped the Eye of the Pit and laid waste to the wilderness near his castle in exile.
He had named it Cupcake on the spot. Who would pass up the chance to keep a three headed flying shark as a pet. Sadly, the girls did not share his enthusiasm.
"I don't know about cute," Rossweisse said carefully, eyeing the creature as if it might eat her any second. "But he is definitely the biggest shark I have ever seen."
"Don't worry, he won't bite," Meruem said.
"I believe you. He doesn't bite" Kuroka replied flatly. "He kills. That thing crawled straight out of the deepest dungeons of Tartarus and belongs there for the safety of the world." She threw her arms up. "I can't believe I am the voice of reason here, but what the fuck, Meruem? You really want to use this thing to kidnap a princess?"
"Rescue," he corrected. "And yes, cool idea, right?"
Both girls stared at him like he had just suggested breaking into heaven to kidnap Gabriel.
In the end, despite all the protests, they climbed onto Cupcake's back anyway. Rossweisse screamed something about what she had done to deserve being abandoned by Odin as the monstrous shark surged into the sky.
…
They appeared in Romania, heading straight for Bucharest where the main entry point into the vampire world was hidden. The vampire dimension was tied to the shadow of the country itself and could be accessed through scattered portals across Romania.
Meruem had already layered heavy concealment magic over Cupcake and the rest of them so that no supernatural observer would notice their arrival and complicate the mission.
They did not linger in Bucharest. Cupcake dove straight into the shadow portal at the heart of the city, completely unnoticed by the human civilians going about their day.
Moments later they emerged inside the dark domain of the vampires. Kuroka leapt off Cupcake in mid air and slipped past the guards stationed at the gate, wrapping them in illusions so they would not alert anyone.
She caught up seconds later and climbed back onto Cupcake as if nothing had happened.
They flew high over the realm, taking in the endless lands below filled with strange flora and fauna. There was no sun here. The world was lit only by a massive crimson moon whose light did not harm vampires. Everything living in this place had adapted to that eerie glow.
All things considered, Meruem found the vampire dimension rather beautiful and peaceful when viewed from above.
They soon reached the castle where their target was held, isolated in the mountains far from any major settlement. The fortress was enormous, gothic to the extreme. He had to admit it looked fantastic, ominous, and very edgy, which meant he would not feel bad about destroying it.
He briefly wondered why vampires of all species insisted on gothic architecture, then remembered they considered themselves the apex of the supernatural world.
Intelligence and common sense were not exactly their strengths.
"Are you sure they won't notice a big ass flying three headed shark?" Kuroka asked, glancing around warily.
"Nah, vampires are a bunch of nerds that can't even eat garlic," Meruem replied confidently. He had concealment magic running, and he doubted the vampires had anyone in the ultimate class capable of seeing through it.
"What does that even have to do with anything?" Rossweisse snapped.
He ignored her and pointed toward the tallest tower of the castle below. "That is where the princess is staying. I will jump now. You know what to do."
He stepped off Cupcake and dropped through the air without waiting for a reply.
"So needlessly dramatic. He could have just flown there," he heard Kuroka mutter behind him.
POV: Valerie Tepes
Valerie Tepes had long since stopped expecting her world to change. She had been born in a coffin of marble and gold, raised within the cold stone walls of Tepes Castle, and taught early that she did not matter.
Dhampir. Half‑blood. Mistake. A waste of space. They had a hundred words for what she was, and none of them meant to make her feel whole, or seen, or loved.
Even the silence here bled hatred. Every corridor, every black draped window, every flickering candelabra reminded her of what she could never be. Pure. Whole. Worthy. The purebloods passed her as though she were dust in the air, or worse, a stain that no amount of scrubbing could remove.
She wondered how her friend was doing. Fragile, terrified, cursed Gasper, who shook when the lights dimmed and still tried to smile at her. The only warmth, the only connection, the only reason her heart had felt less empty within these walls.
She wondered if he had made it outside, to the freedom he had always dreamed of. To see the great cities of human kingdoms, to stand before the vast stretches of water she had only read about in books, the seas and oceans humans called such.
She had never seen them herself. She could only imagine what they must look like: endless blue horizons, the sun glinting on waves, markets crowded with people laughing, voices colliding in chaos and warmth.
After she helped Gasper escape, the castle had closed around her like a clenched fist. The books were taken first.
Curiosity was a disease, they said, and she was already sick enough.
They meant to break her. They had tightened the chains of her confinement, stripping her of books, of sunlight, of any small window to the world beyond her cell. To grind down whatever rebellion remained in her until obedience was all she had left.
There were nights when she pressed her forehead to the cold stone and wondered what it meant to have nowhere to turn. Every person needed somewhere to turn, she had once read, and the thought hurt more than any insult ever could.
The mind, she realized, could grow used to everything. The scoundrel part of her learned how to endure the stares, the locked doors, the endless hours where even the candles were denied to her.
She endured because she had no other choice.
Her dreams were her only escape, and they came with frightening clarity. In sleep she walked through cities she had never seen, their towers painted in colors that did not exist in the castle.
She stood at the edge of a sea so vast that it made her chest ache, waves crashing like applause for a world she was forbidden to join. The dreams were so vivid that when she woke she had to touch the wall to remind herself where she truly was.
Existence alone had never been enough for her. She wanted more than breathing and waiting for the next humiliation. She wanted warmth, the kind that came from another person choosing to stay.
She wanted to be changed by what happened to her, yet she refused to be reduced by it. They could take her books, her freedom, her name spoken without venom, yet they would not take the last thing she owned.
Hope.
And yet, she refused.
Refused to bow fully, refused to let their words and walls define the edges of her soul. She could be beaten, ignored, called a shadow, a mistake, a half-blood. She could be left to the quiet gnawing of loneliness.
But she would not surrender hope. Even here, in isolation, she could imagine a day when the warmth of connection might reach her. When laughter would brush against her ears. When she could touch another without fear, when she could walk beyond these walls and see the cities, the oceans, the sun itself.
It was small, fragile, ridiculous in a place like this. Hope had no business surviving in a girl locked away by her own blood. Yet it did. It lived in the memory of Gasper's shaky smile. It lived in the stories she carried in her head, the ones about heroines who refused to become victims, about people who danced as if no one watched and loved as if pain had never existed.
Valerie lay back on the narrow bed and stared at the ceiling she had memorized down to every crack. Somewhere beyond this stone coffin, a world existed that did not know her name. One day it would. One day someone would look at her and see more than a mistake.
She did not know how. She did not know when.
She only knew that she would keep living, and living, until that day arrived.
…
She moved through her room, her steps careful and measured, long accustomed to the yawning darkness that swallowed everything. There were no windows, no cracks through which light might dare to enter. The walls drank it all in.
The room was empty. No coffin to rest in, no furniture, nothing to distract her thoughts except the faint, repeating patterns etched into the stone. Those patterns had become her constellations, her maps, her stories.
She would not break. That would please them, and she refused to give them that satisfaction. If life would not grant her freedom, then she would cultivate it herself in the small, private corners of her mind, where no one could reach.
Even in this chamber of darkness, where none were meant to touch her existence, she had found companions of a sort. Insects and rats scurried through the cracks, and she had befriended them in her own way. They sustained her when nourishment was denied, and she took from them only what she needed to survive.
The cold nights of her imprisonment had never managed to extinguish the quiet brightness she carried within.
She no longer knew what day it was. The thought barely mattered. Time had lost its meaning here.
Then, suddenly, something shattered above her.
A thunderous crash split the silence as if the sky itself had fallen. Stone screamed and cracked. Half the roof of the tower caved inward as a force descended from above, scattering massive chunks of rock and mortar.
The impact shook the tower to its bones, sending tremors through the floor beneath her feet.
She staggered and coughed as thick dust filled the room, stinging her lungs and blinding her eyes. Through the swirling haze, she could just barely make out a silhouette.
The figure moved, and with a single sweep of what appeared to be a flowing cape, the dust was suddenly forced away, rushing outward as if an unseen wind had claimed the space. The air cleared in an instant, leaving the room unnaturally still.
Vaelerie could finally see the intruder.
He was tall, dark-haired, and impossibly striking. His eyes shone a vivid red, each marked with black dots spinning rapidly like wheels in motion. His attire was unlike anything she had ever seen in reality, yet she recognized it at once from the fairy tale books she had devoured in her mind.
Armor.
Regal, ornate, and beautiful, etched with fine details and strange inscriptions that only added to its splendor. The man wearing it was breathtakingly handsome, so much so that he seemed unreal, as though he had stepped out of a dream rather than broken through stone.
He looked at her, and the spinning in his eyes slowed, then stopped entirely. A smile touched his lips, and in that moment, it felt as though the world itself had grown brighter.
"W-who are you?" she asked. Her voice sounded strange to her own ears. She could not remember the last time she had used it.
"You may call me Meruem," he said, bowing with the practiced grace of a prince from her fairy tales. "It means a light that illuminates the whole world. I always thought the name was a bit conceited and supercilious. Still, it seems fitting today. I have come to take you to the light."
There was playfulness in his eyes, a quiet mirth, as if he were sharing a joke with the world that she had yet to understand.
Meruem. A light that illuminates the whole world. She repeated it silently, gazing at him, thinking how perfectly the name suited him.
"To the light?" she echoed softly, tasting the words.
"Yes. To the light. To what lies beyond. To freedom," he said, his voice gentle and beautiful. "Would you like to come? You want to see it, don't you? Cities that never sleep. Oceans that stretch past the edge of the world. People who will look at you and see a girl worth knowing, worth loving, worth fighting for. Come with me, to the life you have already lived a thousand times in your heart."
Valerie looked at the man, no, at Meruem, who offered her everything she had ever dared to wish for. There was an earnestness about him that made trust bloom instantly, even though she did not know him.
Her rational thoughts urged caution, and warned her to refuse. Yet the part of her that had continued to hope despite everything recognized him as an answer to her prayers.
"T-that sounds nice," she said. It was all she could manage. Tears welled in her eyes, born of hope and fragile happiness.
Even if this was fleeting, even if it was not real, there was a profound joy in knowing her hopes had been answered, if only for a moment.
"Brilliant," he said.
Without warning, he scooped her up into his arms, carrying her in a princess's hold. His arms were strong and steady, and beside her malnourished, fragile frame, he felt as broad and solid as a door. She instinctively wrapped her thin arms around his neck, drawing a smile from him.
He began to move.
He made no visible gesture, yet the heavy door at the end of the chamber shattered as if struck by an invisible force. Stone and metal burst outward, blown aside by a sudden, overwhelming pressure.
Where the door had once stood was now an open path.
He ran up the long spiraling stairs at a speed that felt unreal, his movements fluid and effortless. Despite the pace, his arms remained perfectly steady, holding her as though she weighed nothing at all.
After only a few seconds, he stopped, as silently as he had begun. There was an impossible grace to him, as though he moved in harmony with the world itself, without strain or exertion.
Valerie looked around and realized they were standing in the great hall of the castle. Meruem gently set her down, and she stood on her own feet, staring at the vast space that stretched before her. The hall was strangely empty.
"Well, that was quick," a new voice said.
She turned toward the sound and saw, framed by the great window beneath the crimson glow of the red moon, two figures watching them with interest.
One had beautiful dark hair and hazel-gold eyes with cat-like pupils that gleamed with perpetual mischief. She wore a strange robe that clung to her voluptuous figure, secured by a yellow belt at her waist. She was breathtakingly beautiful.
Beside her stood a silver-haired woman, equally stunning, with a kind and composed expression. She wore armor consisting of a white breastplate adorned with gold and pale blue accents, along with matching fingerless gauntlets, boots, hip guards, and wing-shaped hair clips. Beneath the armor, she wore a black leotard, black thigh-high stockings, and a pale blue cloth wrapped beneath her hip guards, all trimmed with delicate pink lacing that matched her hair clips.
Bathed in the red moon's light, they looked ethereally beautiful.
Valerie could not help but wonder if this was what gods looked like.
"Did you clean up here?" Meruem asked the two girls.
"Yeah," answered the dark-haired one. "They were really weak, nya."
Her speech pattern reminded Valerie of cats, which fit all too well with the soft, cat-like ears atop her head.
"W-what happened to the people who were here?" Valerie asked shyly, curiosity winning over her fear. She knew her father had stationed many guards and servants within the castle. Yet now, the halls were empty.
"We killed them all and ate their livers," the black-haired girl replied with a grin that was equal parts terrifying and fascinating.
Valerie froze, unsure how to react.
"Kidding!" the girl burst out laughing. "Got you, didn't I?"
"Kuroka, stop scaring the poor girl," the silver-haired woman beside her said, clearly exasperated.
"Valerie, meet Kuroka and Rossweisse," Meruem said casually. "Kuroka and Rossweisse, meet Valerie Tepes. We should get going now."
Valerie barely had time to process the introductions before Meruem scooped her up into his arms again. She caught a glimpse of bat-like wings unfolding from his back, vast and powerful. The world shifted in an instant.
Suddenly, she was outside, standing atop something enormous.
An animal.
They were in the air. Flying. Standing on the back of a massive creature soaring through the night sky. One moment she had been in the great hall, and the next she was here, the wind rushing past her face.
A few seconds later, Rossweisse and Kuroka appeared beside her, steady and unfazed.
"This is Cupcake, my great mount," Meruem said, gesturing beneath them. "Cupcake, meet Valerie."
The beast roared, a thunderous sound that vibrated through her bones.
"He likes you," Meruem added calmly.
Valerie stared at the creature and recognized it from the countless books she had read in her captivity. A creature of the sea.
"…Is that a shark?" she asked slowly.
"…Yep," Kuroka replied. "...a three-headed flying shark."
Sharks could fly? Valerie wondered. The books must have been incomplete.
Cupcake circled the castle once, then came to a sudden halt in midair. Meruem raised his hand. Flames burst to life around his fingers, vivid and alive. Slowly, with careful precision, he shaped the fire into an arrow. She could feel the power radiating from it, heavy and awe-inspiring.
"Behold, Valerie," Meruem said, his voice grand and resonant. "This is the place where they meant to imprison you. To prevent you from soaring the skies."
He released the arrow.
It streaked through the air and struck the castle. In an instant, the structure erupted into a towering pillar of fire. Walls, towers, and stone were consumed in blazing brilliance, reduced to ash and nothingness.
The flames devoured everything in their path, lighting up the night as if a second sun had been born. Even from this distance, Valerie could feel the warmth wash over her.
"Now it is no more," Meruem said quietly. "No more cages. Like a phoenix rising from its ashes, you will be born anew."
She knew his words were true.
Valerie smiled as she gazed upon the drifting ashes where the great castle had once stood. Sadness and happiness flooded her all at once, overwhelming and pure. It was the sudden realization that when everything felt darkest and most hopeless, the world could change in a single heartbeat, and everything could be alright.
As she soared into the skies atop the great mount, wind in her hair and firelight fading behind her, one thought filled her completely.
It was beautiful to be alive.
Freedom was beautiful.
AN: I am open to other peerage suggestions. they must, however, be canon characters.
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