Lord Helant nodded slowly, his expression turning thoughtful.
The reason players had been transported to this world could ultimately be traced back to the original overlords of this realm—the dragons.
Dragons reigned supreme here. Every True Dragon Lord possessed strength comparable to a level-100 YGGDRASIL player, and they wielded the enigmatic power of Origin Magic, a system entirely distinct from the tiered spellcasting of the game.
Among them, the strongest was the Dragon Emperor.
He was the root cause of everything.
As the sovereign of dragonkind and the unchallenged apex predator of this world, the Dragon Emperor possessed the terrifying ability to peer into other realities.
By sheer chance, he had discovered YGGDRASIL—and the godlike power contained within its World-Class Items.
Driven by draconic greed for treasure and an insatiable thirst for greater power, he had cast Origin Magic and forcibly summoned those priceless artifacts—and their owners—into this world.
Helant could only recall these scattered fragments of lore from old forum posts and fanfic discussions, yet they were more than enough to shape his plans.
He looked at Herox's towering draconic form, eyes gleaming with approval.
"Herox, dragonkind will be my great enemy in the future. You…"
He paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully.
"In the coming days, take your dragon form from time to time and go challenge the strong among dragonkind. Build a fearsome name for yourself. But remember—never expose Nazarick's existence, and never reveal that you are not a native dragon of this world."
"Yes, Father," Herox answered respectfully, crimson flames blazing brighter in his eyes.
Dragons, is it? A perfect chance to test [Dragon Soul Devour]…
Lord Helant nodded in satisfaction, then reached over and lightly pinched Mino's soft cheek.
"Don't forget. Eight-hour workdays, weekends off. No excuses."
With that, he vanished in a soft flash of teleportation.
...
Ninth Floor of the Great Tomb,
Royal Suite,
Lord Helant's private chambers.
Albedo stood before the full-length mirror, delicately touching up her light makeup. She had pinned her long silver hair into an elegant updo, leaving a few soft strands framing her face.
The gray backless evening gown she wore clung to her curves like liquid moonlight, its deep open back exposing the flawless expanse of her skin.
Under the warm, dim lamplight, the usual aggressive fire in her golden eyes had been carefully banked, replaced by a mature, refined allure—gentle yet magnetic.
"Lord Momonga and Lord Tsukuyomi once mentioned that Lord Helant actually prefers mature women…"
Albedo studied her reflection intently, turning slightly to admire the elegant lines of her silhouette.
As a succubus, she innately understood beauty and seduction. She knew exactly how to wield it.
Carefully, she slid delicate black horn sheaths over her demon horns, angling the pale, sharp tips forward. The change subtly disrupted the overall softness, adding a touch of dangerous elegance.
"Today I must show him my most perfect self," she whispered. "But I cannot rush. Otherwise, I'll end up like Lady Bukubukuchagama…"
She recalled the old guild chatter Momonga and Tsukuyomi had shared in passing—how Bukubukuchagama's bold, aggressive pursuit had backfired precisely because it clashed with Lord Helant's true tastes.
Albedo met her own gaze in the mirror and steeled herself.
"Learn from Lady Bukubukuchagama's mistake. Seize Lord Helant's heart for certain."
Time to slide into home base.
Lord Helant's vision blurred as the teleport completed. The light brightened briefly, then softened once more.
A faint, familiar fragrance drifted through the room—sweet vanilla mixed with night-blooming flowers. Albedo's scent.
"Welcome home, Lord Helant. You've worked hard."
Albedo stood near the center of the room, hands folded gracefully over her lower abdomen.
Her red lips curved into a gentle, welcoming smile, golden eyes shimmering like still spring water. She looked like a blooming poppy—beautiful, serene, and quietly intoxicating.
Lord Helant drew a slow, deep breath, his gaze roaming freely over her transformed appearance.
"Albedo… you've changed. Before you were fiery. Now you feel soft as water…"
Albedo glided to his side with measured grace, the moisture in her eyes rippling like a lake with every slow blink.
"Albedo, you… are beautiful."
For a moment, words failed him.
While he hesitated, Albedo's delicate hand pressed gently against his chest, guiding him back until he sat on the edge of the bed. Her pale fingers slid to his shoulders, kneading lightly.
"Lord Helant must be tired. Allow me to ease your fatigue."
She settled sideways beside him. The carefully chosen fitted gown stretched taut across her form, accentuating every proud curve. In Lord Helant's eyes, there was suddenly only her—the full, soft warmth that invited touch.
His heart pounded wildly.
The way she looked right now matched his tastes perfectly.
"Albedo," he said softly, voice low, "you don't need to call me 'Lord' anymore." He lifted her smooth chin with gentle fingers. "Hel, Lant—whatever feels affectionate. Just make it yours."
Perfect start.
Albedo felt joy threaten to burst her chest. She fought down her succubus instincts, refusing to devour him in one impulsive moment.
"Then… Hel…" she murmured meekly, nestling against his chest and tilting her face upward.
With such beauty in his arms, Lord Helant's senses were under the most delightful assault.
I never claimed to be a gentleman. How can I refuse ...meat placed at my lips?
"Mm!"
Her red lips were captured in a deep, burning kiss. She responded eagerly, breaths mingling, cheeks flushing with heat.
Just as their embrace threatened to deepen further—
"Father, are you there?"
Aura's bright, energetic voice rang out from beyond the door.
Both of them froze, mutual frustration flashing in their eyes.
Especially Albedo. Flames roared behind her golden gaze.
Aura.
So close. Just a little more…
Lord Helant drew a long, steadying breath, quenching the fire Albedo had kindled. He caressed her cheek apologetically. "Next time."
"COME IN!"
Creak.
The door opened.
"Good evening, Father!"
Aura and Mare stood in the doorway, both in cozy pajamas, Mare clutching a colorful storybook to his chest. They beamed up at him with sparkling, hopeful eyes.
"Father, could you tell us a bedtime story? Lady Bukubukuchagama used to tell us such fun tales…"
Faced with those innocent, expectant faces, Lord Helant found he could not refuse.
"All right. A story it is."
The moment Aura and Mare stepped inside, they noticed Albedo's expression—gloomy, stormy, thunderclouds practically gathering over her head.
Aura grinned cheerfully and took Lord Helant's hand without hesitation.
"Albedo, you're here too!"
Mare offered a timid wave. "Are you here for the story as well, Big Sis Albedo?"
Creak. Creak.
Albedo ground her molars audibly, forcing a stiff, brittle smile onto her face.
"Yes… I am here for the story."
Mare sensed the danger in her tone, gave a polite, nervous smile, then hurried after his sister to climb onto the bed.
On Lord Helant's spacious bed, the two little ones settled in, gazing up at him with pure adoration.
Patiently, Helant opened the storybook and began to read in a warm, soothing voice.
Albedo sat at the edge of the bed, biting her lower lip, frustration lodged like a stone in her throat.
After a long moment, she gnashed her teeth in silence.
Lady Bukubukuchagama… you've done every wicked thing!
Even telling the children bedtime stories—what a terrible habit!