Chapter 692 - 692: [692] : I'd Even Be Your Slave If That's What It Takes

With the misunderstanding between Xenovia and Griselda cleared up, the tension in the living room dissolved almost instantly.

Irina, being constitutionally incapable of silence, launched into a full-blown reunion catch-up session with Griselda and Xenovia, and the old schoolhouse went from quietly empty to warmly alive within minutes.

Time drifted toward evening. Sona Sitri arrived after wrapping up Student Council business, her Queen, Tsubaki Shinra, in tow.

Autumn had deepened enough that sunset now arrived unreasonably early. It was barely five o'clock when the horizon swallowed the last of the sun.

Knock knock knock.

An unhurried rapping came from the entrance hall.

By this point, everyone had settled into the living room sofas: Griselda with Irina and Xenovia, Rias with her peerage, Sona with hers. Tea and snacks courtesy of Akeno sat arranged on the coffee table.

Akeno moved to answer the door, but Bokue pressed her shoulder back down before she could stand.

"Stay put. I'll get it."

"Mm..."

No argument. Akeno simply smiled and sat back down with the quiet compliance of a dutiful wife.

Bokue crossed the living room, flicked on the hallway lights, and headed for the entrance.

He remembered the vampire characteristics Rias had briefed him on the night before: unable to enter uninvited buildings, no reflection in mirrors, no shadow, can't cross running water, aversion to garlic, weakened by sunlight, vulnerable to crosses and holy water.

Those rules applied exclusively to purebloods, of course. Hybrids like Gasper were exempt.

Still, he was here tonight specifically to prevent any uninvited surprises. Dusk had fallen, which meant whoever was knocking could very well be—

The door slid open.

A familiar middle-aged face greeted him.

Specifically: an ill-advisedly flashy suit, a streak of bleach-blond hair swept up from the forehead in a style that screamed "mid-life crisis biker gang," and a grin that had never once been appropriate for any occasion.

"Hey, been a while."

Azazel waved, his smile firmly in "shameless uncle" territory.

"Gotta say, I was hoping a pretty young thing would answer the door instead— okay okay, don't hit me, it was a joke!"

The instant Bokue's fist rose, the legendary Governor General of the Fallen Angels folded like a lawn chair.

Understandable. The bald-headed War God who supposedly rivaled Shiva had been single-handedly driven to his knees on first contact, his skull embedded in a wall. Someone like Azazel would get punched clean into the respawn screen.

"Look, you know why I'm here. The Romanian vampires want an alliance, so here I am doing my job as Governor General. Frankly, if it weren't for this and the fact that I hold the title, I'd rather not come around here at all..."

Azazel sighed with genuine weariness.

"Because every time I visit, Baraqiel corners me afterward demanding updates on his daughter. How's she doing, did she mention him, any progress on reconciliation... the works."

"Just tell him straight that there's no news."

Bokue's tone was flat.

"I want to tell him that, but after all these years of partnership, I can't bring myself to crush the guy's hopes entirely..."

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Light footsteps interrupted from behind Azazel. The sound of a girl in low heels crossing cobblestone.

At the same time, the autumn evening air, already cool, dropped several degrees further. A subtle, unnatural chill.

Hm?

Azazel felt the shift too and turned.

Someone had approached behind him.

A girl in a gown that belonged in a Renaissance portrait. Porcelain-perfect features: eyes, nose, lips, all sculpted to an uncanny degree of flawlessness, like a doll designed by an obsessive artisan. Cascading waves of golden hair reinforced the impression.

But what made her look truly inhuman was her skin. Even paler than the gold of her hair. Not the indoor-pallor of someone like Gasper who simply never went outside. This was a complete absence of vitality. Colorless. Deathlike.

Her irises were a deeper, darker crimson than Gasper's. And at her feet—no shadow.

Two figures in suits flanked her from behind. Bodyguards.

She stepped through the gathering twilight, stopped before Azazel and Bokue, and lowered her parasol to perform a flawless aristocratic curtsy.

"Good evening, Lord Keikain, Governor General. I am the representative sent by the Carmilla Faction for tonight's negotiations."

The vampire girl held her position outside the entrance, maintaining a distance of at least two meters from the threshold.

The pureblood restriction. Unable to cross an uninvited threshold.

"Welcome. Everyone's here, so come on in."

Bokue nodded, then pointed past her at the two bodyguards.

"They can wait outside, though. No offense, but their presence is meaningless. If I wanted to do something, both your factions combined wouldn't change the outcome."

"Of course. We understood that several months ago, after observing the changes to the First True Ancestor's territory."

The vampire girl's colorless lips curved into a thin smile.

"Queen Carmilla herself gave explicit instructions that we are to show you absolute respect during this visit. Even if you were to demand I become your slave, the answer would still be yes."

"...That won't be necessary. Just don't start anything stupid and we'll get along fine."

Bokue waved her in.

"Let's sit down and talk."

❁❁❁❁

Back in the living room, the atmosphere tightened as Azazel and the Carmilla representative took their seats.

Four sofas, four factions.

Bokue with Rias and her peerage. Griselda with Irina and Xenovia. Azazel solo. And the vampire girl, alone on the fourth.

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Elmenhilde Karnstein. Please call me Elme."

The vampire girl rose briefly, inclining her head to the room.

Azazel stroked his chin.

"Karnstein. That's one of the highest-ranking noble houses in the Carmilla Faction. It's been a long time since I've seen a pureblood vampire of that caliber... But I have to ask—during the Three Factions summit, your people showed zero interest in negotiations. What changed?"

"Well..."

Elmenhilde's gaze flicked toward Bokue, who sat on the armrest of Rias's sofa looking vaguely disinterested.

A brief pause.

"Normally I wouldn't reveal this so quickly, but there's no point in hiding it anymore. I'll be direct."

"The Tepes Faction has produced a hybrid who possesses a Longinus. Her existence has shattered the balance between our two factions. She also happens to be an acquaintance of someone in Rias-san's peerage."

"Her name is—Valerie Tepes."

"WHAT?? That's impossible!"

Before the last syllable faded, a cardboard box rocketed into the living room at alarming speed.

"Valerie and I aren't the same! She wasn't born with a Sacred Gear! I remember clearly!"

<><><><><>

~ 70 Advanced Chapters Available on Patreon

~ p-atreon.com/dragonnx

(Just remove the hyphen to access Patreon normally.)