Temptation in the Mansion (8)

Lerazie lay where she had fallen, her wings limp against the marble.

The elf was walking toward her. Lerazie knew she couldn't resist.

I lost…

It wasn't for lack of trying. She had hurled the strongest magic she could imagine at the elf, only to see every attack fail. Even meteor magic had done nothing.

And the elf had claimed to be the one who invented that very spell. How could Lerazie hope to defeat someone who had created magic that even archmages struggled to wield?

She lowered her gaze, prepared to accept her death.

“What's your name?”

The question surprised her.

The elf had intended to kill Lerazie when she entered the study. After the battle, however, she had begun to think more carefully about what killing a Grand Duke might mean.

She stopped in front of the fallen demon.

“Your name.”

Only then did Lerazie raise her head. The hostility in those red eyes was as simple and merciless as a child's anger toward an insect that had bitten her.

Lerazie shuddered. She put a hand against the marble and bowed until her head was low.

“L-Lerazie. My name is Lerazie.”

“Lerazie? Of the Hell of Carnal Love?”

“Y-yes. I'm favored by the great demon Baal. I rule the Hell of Carnal Love.”

The elf frowned.

The dream world had been unusually persistent and precise; its creator was clearly no ordinary dream demon. Even so, she hadn't expected a Grand Duke of Hell.

That complicates things.

She sighed and crouched in front of Lerazie, looking down at the bowed head.

“Baal didn't order this. He wouldn't bother with a little scheme like yours. So if you're acting on your own, why is a whore like you interested in Theorad?”

“W-well…”

Lerazie began to stall.

A sword formed in the air and shot down beside her.

Bang!

Its sharpened edge struck the marble a hair's breadth from her hand. Lerazie gasped. She could see her terrified face reflected in the blade.

“Lerazie. Try to evade my question once more and the next blade won't miss.”

“I'm sorry! Please forgive me…”

“Then answer. Why did you take an interest in Theorad?”

Lerazie swallowed.

“D-do you know a girl named Seredi? She came to this mansion the other day.”

“Seredi? Ah. The succubus who didn't know her place.”

“Yes. She was one of my subordinates—”

Bang!

Another sword fell, this one piercing the back of Lerazie's hand. Her fingers jerked as blood spattered the marble.

Pain burned up her arm. A scream rose in her throat, but she swallowed it. The elf's will weighed on her too heavily for her to protest.

Cold sweat gathered on her forehead as she struggled to endure the pain.

“Then you saw my warning,” the elf said. “And you ignored it?”

“I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…”

“You demons never learn. Why can't you control your curiosity?”

If Lerazie had come only to satisfy idle curiosity, perhaps the elf would have sent her away. But she had been warned, and still she'd tried to seduce Theorad and claim him for herself.

“Tell me. If I hadn't been stronger than you, what would you have done? You'd have taken Theorad from me before my eyes, wouldn't you?”

“Please… I'm sorry! I was wrong. Have mercy…”

Lerazie wept and begged, but the elf regarded her tears with contempt.

Demons were skilled liars. The Queen of Dreams, who made a practice of confusing and manipulating others, was the last creature whose tears the elf intended to trust.

“Mercy?”

The elf brushed off her knees and rose.

“I've already shown mercy. I warned you through Seredi. I warned the cat you sent, too. You came here anyway and tried to steal my toy. Why should I forgive you?”

The elf meant every word.

Lerazie dropped flat, pressing her forehead against the marble. Pride and the dignity of a Grand Duke meant nothing beside the hope of staying alive.

“Please! Spare me! I'll do anything!”

“You're speaking strangely. Why would I kill you?”

She isn't going to kill me?

Lerazie had just been told she could never be forgiven. She dared to lift her head.

“Y-you mean you'll let me live?”

“Of course. If you disappeared without a trace, all Hell would be thrown into confusion. Baal would come looking for you, and this mansion would suffer for it.”

If a Grand Duke died in the human world, Baal would have political reason to intervene, if only to defend his authority. The trouble would inevitably reach Deharem Manor.

The elf still needed to see whether Theorad would keep his promise. She had no wish to invite that sort of disruption.

So Lerazie could not be killed in reality.

“I'm thinking of corporal punishment,” the elf said. “As long as your real body survives.”

“What… what do you mean?”

“You really are slow.”

The elf pulled the sword free of the marble. The mana-forged blade shimmered blue at its point.

“No matter how many times I kill you in this dream world, your real body won't be injured. Isn't that right?”

Lerazie's face went pale.

The elf understood the principle of dream magic—and the advantage dream demons habitually took from it.

A victim's physical body would emerge uninjured from the imagined world. But the mind could still be broken. Dream demons sometimes rendered even powerful enemies helpless by killing or raping them repeatedly in a dream, forcing them to endure terror and violation dozens or hundreds of times.

Those who returned to reality could be left so frightened of their tormentors that they no longer dared resist. The dream demons could then control them like puppets.

The elf intended to turn that method against Lerazie.

“Ah… ah…”

Lerazie had done this to others. She had never been the one trapped and helpless. Her breathing quickened as she understood what the elf meant to do.

She clasped her hands, forcing a crooked smile.

“E-elf… If you're worried I'll talk about this, we could make a contract…”

“What good is a contract made inside a dream?”

“Ah. Of course! Then I'll dissolve the illusion. You can leave first, and—”

“You.”

The elf cut her off, her voice carrying the terrible authority of a ruler.

“You still don't understand. Are you in any position to offer me terms?”

Lerazie fell silent. She knew that no plea or bargain would change the elf's mind.

---

Some time later, the elf returned to reality, her feet touching the study floor lightly.

Lerazie appeared an instant afterward and collapsed to the floor. She staggered when she tried to stand, dazed and almost without strength. Her shoulders sagged; even her wings hung limp.

Within the dream, the elf had killed her dozens of times.

The elf spared her scarcely a glance. She surveyed the study, then went to Theorad, who lay slumped against the wall, and crouched beside him.

“…Master.”

He didn't answer.

Before the dream had swallowed them, enormous currents of mana and demonic energy had clashed inside the room. Theorad possessed comparatively little mana; it wasn't surprising that the force had overwhelmed him.

Was he hurt?

The elf placed a hand on his shoulder and sent mana through his body to inspect it. Finding no abnormality, she sighed with relief and withdrew her hand.

He had only fainted.

She watched him for a while.

“You're so weak…”

How could a man this fragile hold so firmly to his beliefs? Most humans would surrender their convictions and grovel before someone more powerful.

Yet Theorad hadn't. Even while the Queen of Dreams threatened him, he had resisted to the end. He hadn't abandoned himself under force or fear.

“Theorad Deharem…”

The more she came to know him, the less she understood him.

She knelt and leaned closer. Her face approached his until their lips were almost touching.

But they didn't touch.

The elf's gaze slipped from his closed eyes to his clothes. Several buttons on his shirt were undone. Lerazie must have opened them.

After a moment's hesitation, the elf reached forward and fastened each button carefully, one by one.

Behind her, Lerazie watched with mounting confusion.

The elf had spoken of Theorad as her toy. Yet her movements were those of a maid diligently attending her master, even when he wasn't conscious enough to notice.

Does she simply enjoy playing the part of a servant?

That explanation didn't quite fit. If the elf wanted to perform the role, she could do so whenever Theorad was awake. Why carry on after he'd fainted?

Lerazie studied her as though trying to decipher a code, but no answer came.

The elf finished buttoning his shirt, brushed off her apron and stood. She looked down at Theorad once before turning.

“Lerazie.”

The demon's shoulders jerked. Every part of her body seemed to remember the punishments she'd endured. Rebellion no longer occurred to her.

She forced her breathing to slow, dropped to her knees and bowed.

“Y-yes. Tell me.”

“Answer my questions from now on.”

Lerazie nodded frantically.

What did the elf want to know? The present state of the witches? Their continuing conflict with the Empire? Something confidential from Baal's summons?

Whatever it was, Lerazie would answer. Another wrong word might send her back into the dream world to endure that horror again.

But the elf's question was nothing like what she expected.

“…Tell me how to seduce Theorad.”

The elf's ears had turned faintly red. It was the sort of request an embarrassed young girl might make, wholly at odds with her terrible power.

Is she serious?

Lerazie looked up in disbelief. The elf didn't take back the question. She merely looked down at Lerazie as though the demon were something too insignificant to trouble her.

Well, it was a subject Lerazie knew. She had plenty of experience with men.

“To begin with, let me explain the simplest way to seduce someone…”

And that day, Lerazie told the elf all her secrets.