"Lucian-sama!"
A breathless voice cut through the quiet aftermath of the speech as a young girl came running toward him.
Her blonde hair bounced wildly with every hurried step over the dirt path, and her wide brown eyes were filled with a mixture of trembling anxiety and stubborn determination.
The moment she reached Lucian, she skidded to a halt and bowed so deeply at the waist that she nearly folded herself in half, her forehead practically brushing her knees.
Clutched tightly in both of her calloused, trembling hands was the pristine gown Lucian had created earlier using the seventh-tier spell [Create Greater Item].
During the earlier massacre, her clothes had been mercilessly shredded by the imperial knight's sword slash.
So rather than leave a traumatized girl exposed to the chilly air and the eyes of the surviving villagers, Lucian had created the beautiful gown on a whim.
To Lucian, it was little more than a disposable handkerchief created from his near endless mana.
To the inhabitants of this New World, however, it was nothing short of a national treasure. The gown was a Top-class magical item embedded with multiple passive enchantments—including [Greater Physical Resistance], [Self-Cleaning], [Thermal Regulation], and a daily charge of [Minor Heal].
If an appraiser from the Re-Estize Kingdom or the Baharuth Empire were to inspect it, its sheer mana capacity would cause an immediate uproar. Counts, marquises, and even royalty would gladly war or empty their treasuries just to secure such a relic as a family heirloom.
Creating a magical item using the [Create Greater Item] spell was impossible for any player—except Lucian, who possessed the Greatest Einherjar class. This granted him another the unique ability to create any item imbued with spells, provided he deemed it an Armament.
Of course, Lucian was not foolish enough to make the village girl a target for every greedy noble and bandit in the region without proper safeguards. He had bound the item's ownership restriction exclusively to Enri Emmot. Furthermore, he had casted a retaliatory curse into the garment's core matrix: anyone possessing a divination skill or an appraisal Talent would instantly perceive that if the wearer suffered deliberate harm, the gown's magical circuits would violently self-destruct, turning the priceless treasure into worthless ash.
"P-please take it back!" Enri stammered, thrusting the now folded gown toward him while keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the dirt around his boots. "I cannot possibly accept something so precious from the Go—"
She bit her tongue, swallowing the final words. 'From the God who had descended from the heavens to save our village'.
Lucian, however, paid no mind to her slip of the tongue. Rather than taking the offered garment, he moved with grace.
He slowly extended a hand, sliding two slender fingers beneath her chin, and gently tilted her head upward, compelling her to abandon her subservient posture and meet his gaze.
Her earthy brown eyes locked directly onto his glowing crimson irises. In an instant, a furious blush erupted across Enri's cheeks, spreading all the way to the tips of her ears.
For a long, agonizing moment, her lungs simply forgot how to draw breath. Lucian's eyes were terrifyingly, impossibly beautiful. They resembled twin pools of liquid rubies and looking into them felt like peering over the edge of the world, she felt a sudden, dizzying pull, as though she could fall into those scarlet ocean and drown forever. Worst yet, a frighteningly large part of her mind whispered that she wouldn't mind drowning at all.
"Did I not give it to you?" Lucian's voice broke the silence, soft and carrying a faint undertone of amusement.
His thumb brushed lightly across the warm skin of Enri's cheek, the cool touch snapping her out of her hypnotic stupor finally.
There was nothing indecent in the gesture. Rather, it carried the casual, unquestioned familiarity of a monarch running his hand over a prized jewel, something fragile and precious that he had already decided belonged within his hand only.
"B-but… Lucian-sama, a treasure like this is far too grand for a simple village girl like me! Just touching the fabric makes my hands shake. I really can't—"
Before she could finish her frantic refusal, Lucian raised his index finger and pressed it lightly against the center of her lips.
Enri's voice died in her throat. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers as a fresh wave of heat flooded her face, turning her skin as red as a ripe tomato. Her heart hammered so violently against her ribs that she was terrified he could hear it through the silence between them.
Lucian tilted his head slightly, strands of his hair shifting over his shoulders. "And why is that?"
"Eh…?" The tiny sound escaped around his finger.
"You are holding that dress as if it were cursed," Lucian remarked, withdrawing his finger slowly.
"N-no! Not at all! That's not what I—" Enri waved her hands frantically, nearly dropping the silky gown before clutching it even tighter in panic.
"Then what is the issue?" he asked, his voice lifting slightly with curiousity.
Enri opened her mouth, her lips parting and closing like a fish thrown out of water, yet no coherent words emerged.
How could a girl whose entire world consisted of plowing the soil, drawing well water, and foraging for herbs possibly explain the heavy weight of holding something that belonged in the myths of the legendary thirteen heroes or the four great gods?
Lucian observed her flustered silence for a moment before speaking again. "Are you perhaps worried that bandits or greedy nobles will come to take it from you?"
She shook her head vigorously. Even if a whole army marched on Carne Village again, she would guard this dress with her very life. It was a something very precious granted to her by her savior, she would rather die than let filthy hands sully it.
"Then…" Lucian's crimson eyes narrowed ever so slightly, a faint, teasing smile curving the corners of his lips. "Could it be that my gift simply fails to meet your tastes?"
"Of course not!" The denial burst from her lungs with such volume and speed that Enri startled even herself, she clapped her hand over her mouth, mortified for raising her voice at her saviour.
Lucian let out a low, melodic chuckle that sent a pleasant shiver straight down her spine. "Then why are we still standing here arguing over a piece of cloth?"
"I… that's…" Enri lowered her head again, staring down at the shimmering threads of the gown in her arms. Her voice dropped to a small, vulnerable whisper.
"I've lived in this tiny village my whole life, Lucian-sama. My family is poor. Even buying a new cloth for the harvest festival takes months of saving copper coins. I've never even seen something this magnificent from afar, let alone held it. I just… I don't know if someone as lowly and ordinary as me should be allowed to accept something so valuable from someone like you."
For a brief moment, the amusement faded from Lucian's expression, replaced by a quiet stillness.
He reached out and placed both hands over hers, gently pushing the gown back until it rested firmly against her chest.
"Enri."
At the sound of her name rolling off his tongue, her head snapped up.
"It is a gift," Lucian said, his tone quiet, and impossibly gentle. "A gift is not a transaction. You do not need to earn it."
Enri froze completely. The expression gracing Lucian's face in this blindingly bright night carried a warmth, a benevolence, and an otherworldly beauty that shattered every mundane reality Enri had ever known.
If the murals in the temples of the kingdom tried for a thousand years to paint the visage of a merciful deity, they would still fall laughably short of the being standing before her right now.
"You do not need to calculate how to repay me, nor do you need to torment yourself wondering whether your bloodline or status makes you worthy of this gift," Lucian continued, his crimson gaze softening further.
"I created it and gave it to you simply because I wished for you to have it in that moment and my desire is the only justification required."
He tapped the folded gown lightly against her stomach "So stop your worrying."
Enri stared up at him, completely ensnared in a waking trance.
"Keep it," he murmured, his captivating smile returning. "And if it brings you even a fraction of comfort…"
His crimson eyes seemed to catch the ambient light in the air, gleaming with an hypnotic light. "Wear it."
Enri's lips parted slightly. "W-whenever I want?"
"Whenever you want," Lucian affirmed.
"Even if… even if it's far too precious for someone like me?"
Lucian let out a quiet, breathy laugh and raised his hand to rest atop her head, ruffling her blonde hair with an almost affectionate familiarity.
"In my eyes, Enri is far more precious than a mere scrap of enchanted cloth. If I ever intended to take it back, I would not have placed it in your hands to begin with."
"I…" Tears pricked at the corners of Enri's brown eyes, blurring her vision. She buried her face slightly into the soft fabric, clutching the gown against her pounding heart as if it were an anchor keeping her tethered to the earth. "Yes… Lucian-sama! Thank you! I will cherish it until the day I die!"
"Good"
He then gently tapped her on the nose. "But hey, no dying on my watch." He added a charming wink.
That single, approving word and wink struck her eardrums and heart like a chord from a divine harp, making her heart race so fast she felt lightheaded.
Enri quickly ducked her head again, completely unable to withstand the intensity of his gaze for a second longer.
Her mind was in a chaos right now. She was entirely overwhelmed by his proximity. By the intoxicating scent that clung to his robes, by the lingering phantom warmth of his fingers on her cheek, and above all, by the searing memory of his fingertip pressing against her lips.
It felt like an absurd, feverish dream. A fairytale that she never, ever wanted to wake up from.
In the span of a single bloody afternoon, this mysterious savior had descended into her shattered life, pulled her out of despair, and carved his image permanently into the deepest part of her maiden heart.
'Ah, Enri, you absolute idiot!' she scolded herself fiercely in her mind, squeezing her eyes shut. 'What kind of shameless delusions are you having?! He is a supreme being! Practically a god walking the earth! How could someone so transcendent ever look at a plain village girl like you in that way?!'
The mere thought felt like the highest form of blasphemy, yet how was a mortal girl supposed to guard her heart against perfection?
Lucian possessed a devastating charisma and beauty that could effortlessly cause queens, princesses, and seasoned adventurers alike to abandon their pride and throw themselves at his feet. To Enri, who had only just lost her parents to the cruelty of the world, only to witness him bring them back from the dead, he was the sole pillar of light left in the darkness.
"Here."
While Enri was locked in an internal war with her own deepening affections, Lucian unexpectedly reached down and took her right hand, gently prying her stiff fingers away from the dress just enough to open her palm.
"Consider this a parting token as well," he said smoothly, pressing a small, weightless object into her skin.
Blinking in surprise, Enri looked down. Resting upon her palm was a single, breathtaking silver feather.
It looked as if it had been plucked from the wing of a divine beast that soared through the heavens above the clouds. Its metallic strands shimmered with it's own light. Regardless of whether a girl was from Earth or the harsh medieval reality of the New World, the female heart was naturally captivated by glittering, and exquisite treasures.
Enri's eyes widened, reflecting the feather's brilliance. For someone like Lucian, it was merely a Mid-tier consumable [Ninth Feather], an item embedded with a one-time passive trigger of [True Resurrection] and an emergency distress beacon linked to his sensory network, ensuring his little investment in Carne Village wouldn't be snuffed out prematurely by a stray goblin or something.
To Enri, however, it was another miracle. She opened her mouth, torn between the instinct to refuse another priceless gift and the overwhelming desire to hoard every trace of him she could get.
Before she could voice a single word, Lucian had already released her hand and turned on his heel.
His long robes billowed softly behind him as he began strolling leisurely toward the edge of the village square, where two inhumanly beautiful women, stood waiting for him in silence.
Enri raised her free hand halfway into the air, her fingers curling as she tried to call out his name one last time. However, no sound came out.
The distance between them, though only a few dozen paces of dirt road, suddenly felt as vast as the gap between the earth and the stars.
How could she possibly reject such boundless grace? To refuse the gifts of a god was no different from spitting upon his mercy.
Slowly lowering her outstretched hand, Enri curled her fingers around the silver feather. The instant her palm closed over it, a weird sensation washed through her hand. It was a gentle, pulsing warmth, albeit faint.
It was the exact same warmth she had felt hours ago when Lucian had gathered her and Nemu into his arms right before he ended her nightmare. It carried an absolute assurance of safety, and a silent promise that she no longer had to face this cruel, terrifying world all by herself, nor cry her eyes out in helpless solitude while trying to be strong for her little sister.
Pressing both the silver feather and the enchanted gown tightly against her chest, Enri stood rooted to the spot, watching the back of her departing savior.
He was so unfathomably kind. So magnanimous. So gentle. So overwhelmingly powerful.
And—
"So beautiful…" the confession whispered past her lips, carried away by the night breeze.
By now, Lucian had rejoined his two companions. As Enri watched the maid with the black hair step affectionately into his personal space, a sharp, unfamiliar ache twisted violently in the pit of the village girl's stomach.
It was Jealousy and Envy.
They were ugly, bitter emotions she had never experienced with such visceral intensity before.
Of course, she was human; she had occasionally envied the wealthy merchants who passed through in carriages or the noble ladies who never had to blister their hands plowing the fields. Yet that mundane envy was nothing compared to the scorching heat currently hollowing out her chest as she looked at the two women walking beside him. They stood at his side naturally, without fear or hesitation, existing in the same world that he was in.
Even so, Enri swallowed the bitterness down. She knew her place. She was a mortal girl and to a radiant deity like Lucian, she was surely nothing more than a pitiful roadside wildflower he had spared from being trampled on a passing whim. Nothing more, nothing less.
...A short distance away, well out of earshot of the lovestruck village girl.
Stepping up to his two companions, Lucian glanced briefly over at the empty patch of trampled grass where his friend had been standing just a few minutes ago.
"Did Momonga already head out?" Lucian asked, slipping his hands into his pockets.
"Yes, Master," Mei Mei replied with a graceful nod. "He returned to Nazarick alongside his Floor Guardians just moments ago. Before he left, he asked me to pass along a message—he said you should feel free to contact him whenever you have the time."
"Got it. Still as polite and cautious as ever, huh?" Lucian chuckled softly, shaking his head.
Dealing with an undead overlord who acted like a stressed-out Japanese salaryman never failed to amuse him. "I'll shoot him a [Message] once we get back"
Mei Mei tilted her head and offered a playful, sultry pout. "That aside, Master," she purred, her voice dripping with teasing amusement, "you seem to have taken quite an liking to that little human village girl."
Despite her words, there was not a single shred of malice or insecurity in her tone. As an existence bound to Lucian, Mei Mei understood her position within his heart with absolute certainty.
She was his first, his closest companion, and the one who held the deepest claim to his love. A mere village girl catching his eye was no more threatening to her than her master picking up a stray kitten on a rainy afternoon.
"Do you perhaps intend to warm your bed with her?" Mei Mei asked, her lips curving upward.
"Give me a break, Mei Mei. I have no intention of taking her to my bed yet," Lucian replied smoothly, waving a hand dismissively as if swatting away a ridiculous rumor.
Walking half a step behind his left shoulder, Shiraori, who normally remained silent and unreadable, unless directly addressed, slowly pivoted her pale, striking face toward him. Her stillness broke just enough for her to ask in a flat, deadpan monotone:
"'Yet'? So Master does intend to take her to his bed eventually?"
Lucian paused for a second before turning his head to shoot the white-haired beauty a wicked, playful wink.
"Now, why would you jump to that conclusion, My Shiro? If I were suddenly in the mood to pull someone into my sheets, do you truly believe I wouldn't invite you first?"
Shiraori froze mid-step. Her brain, capable of parallel-processing thousands of complex spatial and magical calculations simultaneously, visibly short-circuited.
A second later, an unmistakable crimson flush crept up from the collar of her white dress, rapidly reaching her porcelain neck, her cheeks, and even the tips of her ears.
For the first time since the chaotic incident back in the throne room of Aesir, in Great Luxuria, her icy, aloof facade completely disintegrated. With clouds of imaginary steam practically coming from the top of her head, the terrifying level 100 entity looked exactly like a freshly roasted, piping-hot sweet potato.
"My, my, you are shamelessly flirting again, Master," Mei Mei chuckled softly. Stepping closer, she raised a slender hand and gently poked Lucian's cheek with the tip of her index finger.
It was a weird contradiction. Mei Mei knew better than anyone that Lucian's physical body possessed defense capable of shrugging off super-tier spells without a scratch. Yet, whenever she touched him, she handled him as though he were made of fragile sugar and.glass, and for her, he was, the most irreplaceable treasure in all of creation, requiring the lightest, the most reverent care imaginable.
Before she could withdraw her hand, Lucian moved with lightning speed. Turning his head slightly, he caught her invading fingertip between his lips.
First, he dragged the tip of his tongue slowly across her finger. Then, letting his playful instincts get the better of him, he clamped his teeth down teasingly.
He had only intended it as a harmless fun. However, perhaps due to the overwhelming strength he possessed now, he misjudged the output of his physical strength by a very small margin. His sharp canine pierced through her skin, and a tiny bead of blood welled up from the puncture.
The metallic, velvet like liquid immediately coated Lucian's tongue. His eyes widened slightly as the rich flavor spread across his mouth. To his senses, it tasted delicious, far superior to any normal drink. It was the blood of Mei Mei after all, a woman he cherished and desired with every fiber of his being, that alone elevated every drop of her blood into ambrosia.
"Ah. Sorry, Mei Mei," Lucian murmured, releasing her finger at once.
Frowning slightly at his own carelessness, he raised his left hand, a soft golden glow of restoration spell instantly gathering at his fingertips.
Given Mei Mei's monstrous natural regeneration, a pinprick like that would seal itself within seconds, yet Lucian's perfectionism refused to allow even the slightest blemish he had caused to linger on her skin.
Before the spell could take the effect, however, Mei Mei snatched her hand back, cradling it against her chest as if protecting a stolen gem.
Holding his gaze with dark, heavy-lidded eyes, Mei Mei slowly brought the injured finger to her own parted lips.
"You mustn't do that, Master," she whispered huskily. With deliberate slowness, she slipped the finger into her mouth, sucking away the mixture of her own blood and most of all, his saliva, her tongue swirling around the tiny wound to savor every last trace he had left on her flesh.
Pulling her finger free with a faint, wet pop, her eyes narrowed into crescent of pure satisfaction.
"To heal this would be a tragedy. This is a sacred brand… a physical mark of your love carved directly into my body."
At that sight, and those words, something primal snapped inside Lucian's chest.
Deep within his mind, already amplified by his new racial traits and this new ruler's mentality, he had always had a tyrannical, bottomless greed regarding Mei Mei, Suzune, Mizuki, and even the other girls from his guild. He didn't merely want her loyalty; he wanted to claim her in her entirety.
He wanted to colonize every corner of her mind, to add himself so thoroughly into her existence that she could not draw a single breath without thinking of him, rendering her utterly, hopelessly dependent on his presence.
Normally, the part of his rational human mind kept those darker impulses neatly leashed behind his charming smile. Now, however, watching her lick up her own blood solely because his teeth had drawn it, the leash was becoming loose.
He wanted to devour her. He wanted to monopolize her soul through every method known to heaven and hell, human and inhuman alike.
"Mei Mei…"
As her name rumbled from low in his throat, the glowing crimson of Lucian's irises went a sudden metamorphosis. The blood-red hue bled away, shifting into a toxic emerald green.
In the past, whenever Mei Mei looked at him with her obsession, her pupils warping into dark, endlessly spiraling abysses of devotion, a tiny part of him had felt a chill of unease.
Now, he was not only immune to her madness; he was mirroring it. He didn't even realize that within his emerald irises, his own pupils had begun to twist and spiral in a hypnotic, terrifyingly possessive vortex that was far more domineering than hers.
"I love you," Lucian breathed. Stepping fully into her space, he cupped the back of her neck and pressed his lips firmly against the center of her forehead.
The effect was instant. Every ounce of strength vanished from Mei Mei's knees. A soft, breathless moan escaped her throat as her body went completely limp, her consciousness practically melting into a puddle of bliss.
Had Shiraori not reacted with machine-like reflexes, sliding an arm around Mei Mei's waist to prop her up, she would have collapsed straight into the ground.
"Master is becoming increasingly lewd," Shiraori said, her voice having returned to its usual flat, emotionless tone even though a faint pink still lingered on her cheeks as she held up the limp maid of her Master.
The emerald vortex in Lucian's eyes vanished in the blink of an eye, his gaze snapping back to its normal, lucid crimson. He blinked twice, looking genuinely baffled by the accusation.
"How in the world does that even qualify as lewd?" Lucian protested, spreading his hands in exasperation. "I just kissed her forehead! In any culture, isn't that the pinnacle of pure, chivalrous romance?"
"It is excessively lewd," Shiraori repeated stubbornly, refusing to yield a single inch on her verdict.
Lucian stared at her deadpan expression for a second before a helpless, amused chuckle escaped him. Shaking his head, he turned his gaze upward toward the dark canopy of the sky, where the stars of the New World were piercing through the violet clouds.
"Very well, I suppose I am a degenerate then. Come, let's return to our home."
Raising one pale hand toward the open air, he casted a spell.
"[Gate]."
Instantly, the fabric of reality tore open before them, turning into a massive, swirling oval of deep purple and red the size of a huge door.
However, the spatial coordinates of this [Gate] were not anchored to the outer walls of the Great Luxuria.
While Lucian could have directly connected to the guild, doing so in the middle of an barely known village was amateurish mistake, he refused to make.
Especially in this world where where unknown World Items, and maybe other native specialized divination existed, opening a direct [Gate] from an active crime scene to one's home base carried the risk of a third-party observer tracing the dimensional coordinates back to its terminus.
Granted, given the layered anti-divination wards protecting Great Luxuria and his own passive counter-espionage skills, the probability of any native magic caster or player successfully tracking his [Gate] was astronomically low.
Somewhere beneath 0.00000000001%.
Yet, in a game of absolutes where a single unknown variable could prove fatal, paranoia was simply another word for survival. Lucian did not wanted to gamble when he can achieve certainty.
Instead, the [Gate] connected to a random pocket of empty airspace several hundred meters directly above the carne village. Obscured by night clouds.
Without hesitation, Lucian stepped into the swirling purple oval, followed closely by Shiraori and the now happily sighing Mei Mei.
The instant their feet crossed the threshold, gravity claimed them.
They stepped out into the freezing upper atmosphere and immediately began plummeting toward the earth. The howling gale did nothing to them.
Before they had fallen more than a dozen meters, Lucian and Mei Mei activated [Fly], and Shiraori used her skill. Their rapid descent stopped smoothly, leaving the three of them suspended weightlessly in the silence beneath the vast, starry night sky.
For a fleeting heartbeat, Lucian looked down at the village. Then, casted an untraceable long-distance [Greater Teleportation] buffered by three separate decoy relays.
In the next instant, without leaving so much as a ripple of air in the wind, Lucian, Mei Mei, and Shiraori vanished into the night.
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You can read 5 Chapters Ahead on my Patreon/AzazelGrim
I even post some Generated illustration for better imagination.
Longer chapters from now on BTW.