"Egg fried rice, you say?"
Ingrid spoke with a tone of confusion, still trying to process the current knowledge of the human race.
"Hey, don't look at me like I'm dumb," Dante replied, narrowing his eyes at her.
"I've had far better cuisines over the thousands of years," she said with arrogance.
"Uh-huh, says the one who just ate twelve plate servings."
Ingrid ignored him, her golden eyes drifting toward a faint steam puffing from a nearby room. She raised a finger.
"By the way, human... what is that steamy thing coming from there?"
"Ah, that's the bathroom. Outdoor one," Dante explained as he stacked and cleaned the dishes she had devoured.
"Outdoor?" she repeated curiously, tilting her head.
"Oi, not that kind of outdoor, if that's what you're thinking," Dante shot back quickly.
He led her toward the room. Inside, a faint mist lingered in the air, warm and comforting. The pool shimmered with moonlight, a private onsen Dante had built for himself, something he had always wanted to try in his past life but never had the chance.
Ingrid stepped inside, her sharp eyes scanning the room. "What do you do here?"
"Ehh, take a bath, settle into the warm pool with some light beer, and gaze at the moon," Dante said, pointing toward the night sky. The moon was full and radiant, casting its silver glow into the steaming waters.
"At times like this, it's really relaxing and—"
But when Dante turned back, his words stuck in his throat. His eyes widened. Ingrid was already undressing. Her dark armor and flowing garments slipped off effortlessly, falling onto the wooden floor. She stood half-naked under the rising steam.
"Puahh! What—what the hell are you doing, you demon woman!" Dante shouted, spinning around and covering his eyes with his hand.
Ingrid smirked, her voice dripping with playful arrogance. "Hmph. Be grateful, human. You got a glimpse of my body. And thanks for the bath."
"Bath! You mean you're—!"
Before he could finish, it was too late. Ingrid had already stepped into the steaming pool.
"Ahhh..." Her voice melted into the night air, soft and indulgent. "It's been a millennium since I've had a good warm bath like this."
Her milky chocolate skin glistened as droplets ran down her body, catching the moonlight. Her breasts floated slightly with the water, firm yet heavy with warmth, before settling against her chest. She leaned back with ease, stretching her arms over the stone edge. Slowly, she lifted one long leg, droplets sliding down her thigh, and crossed it over the other.
Dante peeked back unconsciously, his breath catching in his throat as he found himself staring.
"Ah♡... what a bold little human," Ingrid teased, her lips curving into a sly smile. "Staring at an old hag like me. Don't you know it's rude to gaze at your elders like that?"
Her voice was laced with deliberate seduction. She shifted in the water, arching slightly so that the steam revealed and concealed her curves in waves. A soft giggle escaped her lips, almost a purr.
Dante blinked rapidly, snapping out of his daze. "Damn you, woman! Just... just hurry up!" He turned on his heel and stormed out, his face burning red.
Behind him, Ingrid's laughter echoed warmly, playful and knowing.
"Ahahaha... bold, gutsy, and cute," she said to herself, tracing the water's surface with her fingertips. "This human is... acceptable in my books for now."
Her expression shifted. A flicker of memory crossed her gaze as she sank deeper into the pool, letting the heat embrace her body.
"Yet, for some reason, he resembles him," she murmured, narrowing her eyes. "I notice his build... muscular, athletic. Not something a mere human his age should have achieved—unless it's him himself."
Her mind wandered back to a past encounter. The memory of a man above her league, arrogant yet disciplined, cocky yet commanding. She, once the first Sovereign of the dragon clan, had fallen into betrayal and become a demonic dragon.
"How long has it been since I last sparred with such a fine man? Pity humans can only live a century."
Meanwhile, Dante stood just outside, leaning against the wooden wall, trying to catch his breath. His heart was still racing.
"Damn that demon woman... she has no shame," he muttered under his breath.
Inside, Ingrid stretched lazily in the pool, letting out another satisfied sigh, her smile both dangerous and alluring.
As Dante prepared his bed for the night, he extended a hand toward the shadows that danced along the walls.
From within them, a shape began to stir. The darkness thickened, then rose like smoke, forming into the figure of a woman.
Lustia emerged gracefully, her form cloaked in shadow, kneeling before him as if he were her only truth.
"My liege, what do you need from this lowly servant?" her voice was soft, but carried the echo of her former sin.
"Calm yourself," Dante replied firmly. "Do not lower yourself as if you were a lowlife."
"But my liege…" Lustia hesitated, her glowing purple eyes flickering with uncertainty. Her shadow-like fingers curled over her knees as she bowed her head deeper.
"Before death, I wanted to kill you. I wanted to hurt you so badly," she admitted, her voice trembling.
"I was once a demon… a general… the Sin of Lust, one of the Seven Deadly. Why are you kind to me after everything I've done in my time as a living corpse?"
Dante adjusted the last blanket of his bedding, then turned toward her. He stepped closer and, instead of scorn, placed a hand gently on her head. The shadows of her form shivered at his touch.
"Lustia," he said calmly, "what made you think I brought you back from the dead and gave you command as my shadow army's general?"
Still kneeling, she tilted her head slightly upward, uncertain. "Umm… I don't know. Payback? To use me for your own benefits?"
Dante let out a low chuckle, though his eyes were serious.
"Lustia, the conflict was between you and me. Domikhael used you—tore your body in half for his own power. He was the one who wielded the blade that day, not you."
He sat down slowly, his eyes locking with hers, the shadows of the room wrapping around them both like a veil.
"You have nothing on your debt anymore. I brought you back because you carry knowledge. Your experience with aerial combat, your understanding of the skies… those things are of great importance to me. So be my eyes in the sky, Lustia."
Her glowing eyes widened faintly, shimmering like violet flames. Though her body was nothing but a shadowy silhouette, her trembling voice revealed her emotions.
"Thank you… my liege." She bowed deeper, her head almost touching the floor.
"Now," Dante said, his tone shifting, "back to why I summoned you. Tell me more about the demon in the bath."
Lustia raised her head slowly, her dark figure straightening, though still kneeling before him.
"She is Ingrid Von Balmung. During my time as the Sinner of Lust, I gathered knowledge of her in my studies. She existed a thousand years ago, in the era of the first generations. Ingrid was the first queen of the dragons, their sovereign."
She paused briefly, the shadows of her body swaying with faint movements like mist.
"Legend has it her betrayal began with the infidelity of her husband, the first Dragon King. The Demon King saw her potential and coveted her as his bodyguard and advisor. She abandoned her clan… and joined the demon race."
Dante frowned slightly, resting his chin on his fist. "I can understand the sting of infidelity… but to abandon her own kind for it?"
"As a woman, I too can understand Ingrid's betrayal, my liege," Lustia said, her voice carrying both sympathy and warning.
"After joining the demon clan, the king made her leader of the Ten Commandments. She herself handpicked them— Ten races of different clans turned and abandoned their clan to become demons, all Marshal-class. She forged them with her own hand."
Her voice lowered slightly as her glowing eyes flickered. "While we… Taouon, myself, and the others of the Seven Deadly Sins… were only General-class before you killed us. You freed us from our burdens, my liege."
Dante studied her silently as she continued, her voice weaving the history into the quiet room.
"And one more thing," Lustia added. "She despises demi-gods and those with a boon."
"Really?" Dante asked, his brow lifting.
"Yes. To her, such gifts are nothing but cheats. Boosters. She believes they rob one of the right to carve their own path to strength." Lustia's voice grew colder, almost reverent. "That is her conviction, my liege."
"Alright," said Dante. "Guard the sky while I rest, and have Taouon do roundings around the shelter. In secret. I don't want Ingrid knowing the two of you are here. And hide any traces of magic in you both… and I mean everything."
Lustia lowered her head, her voice steady. "It shall be done, my liege."
Her shadowy figure slithered out of the shelter, dissolving into the night air.
Moments later, she found Taouon waiting, and together the two slipped silently into the darkness, their presence erased as they began their duties under the moonlit sky.
Meanwhile, back at Ruthwilfer Castle, Lady Diana sat in the grand library, surrounded by towering shelves of ancient tomes.
The glow of a single candle flickered over parchment filled with her delicate handwriting.
She removed her glasses and set them aside, pressing her fingers against her tired eyes.
"Sigh… there's still so much to be done before the demon clan strikes again," she murmured.
Her bodyguard, Fina, entered quietly, carrying a porcelain cup of tea. She approached with measured steps and offered it with a small bow.
"Thank you, Fina," Diana said, her tone weary.
"You're welcome, my lady."
Diana took a sip, savoring the warmth, then set the cup gently beside her notes. Fina's eyes lingered on the open pages, her curiosity betraying her composure.
"My lady… is it true that you're—"
"Shh," Diana cut her off sharply, raising a hand. Her gaze swept across the library, wary of prying ears. She leaned in, her voice a low whisper. "Not here. But to answer your question… yes. I am of that clan."
She meant her original bloodline—the Aldermans.
Fina's lips parted in shock. "Do they know?" she asked, worry threading her voice.
"No," Diana replied firmly, her expression hardening. "And I'll make sure of it. I've already… taken measures. Subtle ones. Strangers who wander too close leave with nothing but confusion. Those who dig too deep… never speak again."
Her words were carefully chosen, deliberately vague, yet her meaning was clear. She ensured no one could expose the truth—not allies, not enemies, not even those within her walls.
The library fell into silence, broken only by the faint rustle of parchment as the candle's flame swayed in the draft.
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Chapter 35 — End.