Open Up--!! Demon King--!!! (6)
The massive front gates of the Demon King's Castle groaned open with a low, rolling rumble.
Kuuuuuuuuung—!!
Through the chill of the night air, the hem of a dark crimson dress swayed with elegant poise.
Pale skin, scarlet eyes, and jet-black hair cascading to her waist — Vampire Countess Morgiana, every inch the noble, strolled unhurriedly into the Demon King's Castle.
"No matter how many times I see it, this place is always so gloomy…?"
She surveyed her surroundings at a leisurely pace — then stopped dead in her tracks.
"Hm?"
The antique marble floors were blanketed in a sticky orange liquid.
Orange juice stains streaked the walls in vivid rivulets, and amber splatters freckled the stair railings and pillars alike.
(It was semen, of course — but Morgiana took it for juice, so juice it shall be called.)
In any case, the red carpet had soaked the stuff up until its color had gone completely wrong, and a thick, sweet orange fragrance hung heavy in the air.
Morgiana said nothing for a moment as she took in the scene. Then, slowly, her gaze settled on Firva, seated upon the Demon King's throne.
"I come all this way after so long, and yet…"
She let the silence stretch, then tilted her head just slightly.
"Have I come to the wrong place? This isn't an orange juice factory, is it?"
Firva's brow twitched.
"………"
Morgiana prodded the floor with the tip of her cane.
Squish.
The cane stuck, then peeled free with a wet, clinging sound. This was no ordinary orange juice — something viscous and foreign was mixed into it, and the texture made that plain.
She wrinkled her nose ever so slightly and wiped the cane clean with a handkerchief.
"Does the so-called Demon King not even clean the place she lives in?"
"………"
"Have the servants gone on strike? Or is this some new interior design? The sweet fragrance is… quite striking."
The corner of Firva's mouth trembled.
But Morgiana was far from finished.
"In noble society, one at least tidies the reception room before receiving a guest. And this is the castle of a Demon King who claims dominion over an entire world…"
She looked down at the orange-stained carpet and exhaled a long sigh.
"To be perfectly frank, I am disappointed."
Snap.
She flicked her fingers, and a vast swarm of bats came pouring into the castle.
"Screeeeeeeeeeech—!!"
In an instant the bats scoured every last drop of the mess from the castle interior, then made straight for the windows to leave…
"Scree… screeech…"
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud…
"Oh…?"
Morgiana's expression hardened as bats began raining from the air in droves.
"Wait — what is wrong with my bats?!"
"They ate whatever they pleased and got food poisoning, I suppose."
Firva answered quietly, her face set like stone.
She would rather die than admit the bats had collapsed because of the Dark Dragon's Semen mixed with the aftermath from her own womb.
"………"
"Haa… Far from majestic, the Demon King's Castle looks like a child's room after someone spilled a drink and ran. Expired juice, no less."
Morgiana sighed and fixed Firva with a hard stare.
In that instant, a small smile touched Firva's lips.
(Thank goodnessss… at least it doesn't smell like semen…)
She clenched her teeth and trembled her fist, putting on a show of fury.
"…Fine."
Morgiana watched her for a beat, then let out a soft snort of laughter.
"Even so, when a guest arrives, one might at least leave a place to set one's feet."
"…Shut up."
Firva turned her head away, sulking.
In truth, she had been cleaning without a single day of rest ever since the Dark Dragon semen incident. But no matter how much she scrubbed, the long-fermented mess kept catching her eye in the most uncanny ways, and she was already worn thin in spirit.
Knowing none of that, Morgiana picked her way carefully around the remaining sticky patches, murmuring under her breath.
"Next time I visit, I really ought to wear boots."
"Khh…"
Firva ground her teeth and swallowed her rage, while Morgiana never once lost her refined smile as she continued her tour of the castle.
"By the way, I heard a rumor that you defeated the Hero, Lady Firva. Is it true?"
At Morgiana's carefully measured question, Firva propped her chin in her hand and slowly drew up one corner of her mouth.
"Yes. She died by my hand in the end."
She answered without a shred of hesitation. Victory still lingered in her red eyes, and the low laugh that slipped from her was thick with ease.
In truth it was neither possible nor plausible — but Firva was laying out her wishful thinking without a single crack in the performance.
"…I see. Then where is the Hero's corpse now?"
A brief silence fell.
Firva's smile deepened as she leaned back against the chair.
"The corpse, you say…"
She gave a short laugh and waved a hand lightly.
"I… I incinerated it myself."
The words came out as if it were nothing — but a sly, wicked smile spread across her lips.
In the Demon Realm, the story was that the Hero had been slain by the Demon King. It was a narrative the Hero had cooked up with Firva through a contract — pure collusion. Firva had simply fallen for the Hero's nonsense about elevating the Demon King's prestige.
"…You incinerated it?"
Morgiana's eyes wavered slightly. Shock was plain on her face at the idea that not even a scrap of evidence had been left behind.
Bang—!!!
"Demon King~! Spread them for me again today~!"
At that very moment, the Hero shoved the door open, something cradled in her arms.
"Uh…?"
Morgiana went rigid at the Hero's entrance…
"Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah—!!"
…and Firva abandoned all dignity, letting out a full-throated scream.
"Demon Kiiiiiiiing—!!!! I finally found you!"
Beaming, the Hero charged straight at Firva.
The instant Morgiana saw that face, her eyes flew wide.
"…Is that not the Hero?"
Firva scrambled to manage her expression, but it was already far too late.
"What did you say?!"
"She looks exactly like the Hero from the intelligence reports."
Cold sweat beading on her brow, Firva waved her hands in frantic denial.
"Ah — no! I don't know that person!! She's some stranger impersonating the Hero!!"
At Firva's words, the Hero clasped both hands together and flushed pink.
"Ehehe… Lady Firva is so shy. But it's all right! We're bound by the threads of fate, after all!"
"What kind of garbage are you spouting—!!!"
Firva shouted, face burning red — but the Hero only nodded with a blissful look.
Morgiana glanced between the two of them, then let the corner of her mouth curl.
"…Fufu."
She chuckled softly and murmured something loaded with meaning.
"What an unexpected and excellent weakness."
Her smirking gaze drifted, suddenly, to what the Hero was holding.
"…And that is?"
Cradled carefully in the Hero's arms was a long dakimakura. Strangely enough, nothing was printed on it at all — just pure white fabric.
"There's nothing drawn on it?"
Curious, Morgiana brushed the dakimakura lightly with her fingertips.
That was the moment.
Sssslip.
Black lines began to etch themselves across the blank white cloth of their own accord, and in an instant a person's likeness rose into sharp relief.
"…Huh?"
When the image finished, Morgiana froze solid.
Emblazoned large across the dakimakura was Morgiana herself — caught mid-look of pure astonishment.
"…Excuse me?"
While Morgiana stared back and forth between the pillow and her own face in a daze, the Hero's expression turned to panic.
"Eeeeeeh—!! I was going to use that on the Demon King?!"
"What is that thing…"
The Demon King asked, trembling.
"Behold — the Sensory-Linked Dakimakura!! It links the senses of whoever it imprints on!!"
Rub. Rub. Rub.
The Hero ran her fingers over the crotch of the Morgiana drawn on the pillow.
"Nnh…? What is this…!! All of a sudden, something strange…"
Thud.
Morgiana dropped to her knees on the floor.
"Aaaah… tormenting someone other than the Demon King for a change isn't half bad either…"
The Hero's face flushed as if pleasure were already blooming there.
Rubrubrubrubrubrub…
"Kh… You dare do this to me and still think you'll walk away alive… nngh—!!"
Drip…
Arousal began to leak from between Morgiana's legs.
"I think I'll walk away just fine~!"
"…………."
Firva watched the spectacle for a moment — then
Whoosh—!!
she shot down from the Demon King's throne and closed on the Hero in a blink.
"Hero. Lend that to me a moment."
"Huh?"
Snatch.
Firva ripped the dakimakura from the Hero's hands in a single motion.
And then…
Thwack—!!!
"Guhh?!?!?"
She kicked the dakimakura full force.
Thud…!!
Morgiana crumpled, clutching her stomach.
"Guh… hah… What… what are you doing…?"
"I just kicked a pillow to blow off some stress. Feeling under the weather, Morgiana?"
Firva asked, wearing a wicked, rotten grin.
"D… Don't tell me…"
Thwack—!! Thwack—!! Thwack—!! Thwack—!!
"Kyaah—!! Nngh—!! Ooh—!!"
As Firva stomped the dakimakura in a frenzy, Morgiana twitched and writhed on the floor, moaning.
"Kwahahahahahahaha—!! I've wanted to stomp you for ages—!! And there's a perfectly legal way to do it—!!!"
"Nngh…!!"
Drip. Drip-drip…
"Uh… this one. Her M-tendencies look pretty strong."
The Hero stared in shock as Morgiana's eyes rolled back and she wet herself even under the merciless trampling.
"Vampires pee red, toooo…"
She marveled at the crimson urine soaking the floor.
"S… Stop… stop…!!!"
"You want me to stop?"
the Demon King asked, grin rotting further.
"Don't stoooooooooooop—!!"
"Oh, I woooon't—!!!"
Thudthudthudthudthudthudthudthudthud—!!!
Firva hammered the dakimakura with both fists, and blood sprayed from Morgiana's entire body.
"Nngoooooooooooooooooh—!!"
Spurt—!! Spurt—!!! Spurt—!!!!!
She was a vampire. Even wounds this fatal would knit themselves shut in a matter of seconds.
But the pain arrived in full.
And still she was sublimating that pain into pleasure, being reborn as a bitch in heat.
"Oh dear… this isn't quite how I intended it to be used, but…"
The Hero scratched her head at the carnage.
"Nngh… ooooh…"
"Kwahahahahahahaha—!!!"
"If the parties involved are happy, then everything's fine, right? Hahahahahahahahaha—!!!"