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The palace doors swung open, and a dozen teenagers—boys and girls alike—were herded inside. Each one was a half-blood from the Carmilla faction, marked by the rare gift: a Sacred Gear.
In both the Tepes and Carmilla clans, half-bloods lived at the bottom rung. Their clothes were tattered, their faces anxious and pale as they stumbled into the royal hall. Fear hung thick in the air.
"Filthy mongrels! Kneel before Her Majesty!"
A guard's bark cut through the silence. The teens dropped to their knees, trembling.
On the throne, Queen Carmilla sat in regal splendor—beautiful, imperious, untouchable. The half-bloods dared not raise their eyes; shame and terror pressed them down until some could barely stop themselves from shaking.
"These are all the Sacred Gear hosts among the half-bloods, Your Majesty."
A guard reported, and Carmilla nodded with icy grace.
Tenra leaned against a pillar, arms folded, eyes bright with interest as he surveyed the new arrivals.
"Well, isn't this a surprise? So many Sacred Gear wielders, and all from Carmilla's territory."
Pureblood vampires couldn't host Sacred Gears—only those with human blood could. Half-bloods were rare enough; the odds of one awakening a Sacred Gear were slimmer still. Tenra had expected four, maybe five at most—this was far beyond his calculations.
"The older generation was dealt with. These all awakened their Gears within the last year or two."
Carmilla's voice echoed across the hall.
"No one knows why, but the number of new awakenings has skyrocketed compared to any previous era."
Tenra's gaze sharpened. He'd noticed the pattern ages ago—back when finding a single Sacred Gear wielder was a quest in itself. Now, they seemed to turn up everywhere. Even the Longinus-class relics, once rarities across centuries, were popping up left and right. Azazel joked that this was the Sacred Gear boom era.
Tenra had his suspicions. No doubt—the Biblical God was behind it all.
Whatever the reason, Tenra didn't mind. The more Sacred Gears awakened, the more he could claim for himself.
He knelt beside a young girl, maybe seven or eight, her hair a tangled mess, her cheeks streaked with dirt. If someone cleaned her up, she'd be adorable—a little loli in rags.
"What's your name?"
Tenra asked gently, patting her head.
"C-Cris… My name is Cris."
She whispered, voice quivering.
"Cris-chan, huh? Don't be scared. I won't hurt you."
He smiled softly.
"But I do need your Sacred Gear. It'll sting a little—try to be brave, okay?"
A brief comfort, then Tenra reached out and activated [Sacred Gear Plunder].
"Aaaah!"
The palace rang with cries of pain. The extraction was agony—almost unbearable for these young hosts. When Tenra finished, every last teenager lay unconscious on the marble floor.
Thirteen Sacred Gears. The surge of spiritual power was impressive—a satisfying haul.
"Take them away."
Carmilla's voice was cold and final.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The guards bowed and dragged the limp teens from the hall.
Only Tenra and Carmilla remained. She rose, offered him the throne, then settled sweetly onto his lap.
"Master, are you pleased with their Gears?"
She asked, nestled against his chest.
Tenra ran his fingers through her silken hair, a sly smile curling his lips.
"Most are just average. But two of them… now those are special."
Of the thirteen, some boosted strength, some speed, some stealth—decent for mortals, but useless to someone like Tenra. But two stood out: [Spatial Leap] and [Sensory Manipulation].
[Spatial Leap] had belonged to a boy of ten. The Gear allowed its user to teleport to any place they'd visited before, or to tag a target with a coordinate—no matter where that person went, the host could jump to their side in an instant. Of course, each leap drained plenty of magic or spirit power, and the farther the jump, the greater the cost.
Tenra was hopeless at magic—couldn't even cast a fireball, much less complicated teleportation spells. Usually, he relied on Rias or Yubelluna to travel between worlds, hitching a ride like a passenger. With [Spatial Leap], he could finally go wherever he pleased, on his own.
As for the energy drain? Laughable. Tenra's spiritual reserves were so vast, he could probably circle the globe dozens of times before running dry.
The second Gear, [Sensory Manipulation], came from Cris-chan herself. As the name implied, it could control another's five senses—sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch. A single touch, and Tenra could alter or even seize control of someone's perception.
A terrifying weapon. In battle, he could blind or deafen an enemy, or amplify their sense of touch a hundredfold—a nightmare for any opponent.
And outside combat, the possibilities… well, they were endless.
Tenra stroked Carmilla's cheek, his smile turning wicked. He activated [Sensory Manipulation].
Carmilla's eyes widened. Her flawless face flushed deep red—pureblood vampires almost never blushed, unless their bodies were overwhelmed by sensation.
Now, she felt it: hundreds of phantom hands caressing her, everywhere at once.
"M-Master… please…"
Her voice was thick with longing and confusion.
"Don't… please…"
She knew exactly what he'd done, and yet she pleaded, lost in the haze.
Tenra's desire flared. No matter how many times he'd tasted her, in this moment she was irresistible.
And as every man knows—when a woman says "no," she really means "yes."
He lifted Carmilla onto the throne.
Tore open her robes.
Claimed her, body and soul.
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