The Ultimate Lich King of the Multiverse

Shrouded in heavy mist by the lakeside stood a deep crimson Western-style mansion, exuding an air so oppressive it was hard to breathe just looking at it.

Whose residence it was remained unknown. But even from a distance, the building radiated a suffocating, despair-laden aura.

From the outside, it looked like a mansion of perhaps a few hundred square meters, but once inside, it felt far larger. Its interior seemed almost boundless—long corridors that never ended no matter how far one walked.

Strangely, despite the vastness of the place, not a single maid could be seen. Yet the place was meticulously maintained—hallways, windowsills, everything was spotless, without even a trace of dust.

"Per your request, tonight's dinner is cheesecake and Ceylon tea, Mistress."

In the vast, empty banquet hall, a long round table flickered dimly in candlelight. A girl dressed as a maid stood respectfully before the young lady seated at the head of the table.

"You've done well, Sakuya."

The girl—fiddling idly with her blood-red fingernails—nodded lightly, then raised her head.

"How's Flandre today?"

"She's been good. No tantrums or outbursts."

"That's good. Take her portion to her as well."

The girl addressed as Mistress—seemingly the owner of the mansion—spoke calmly. The maid named Sakuya gave a slight bow, stepped backward, and vanished into the darkness as if melting into ink.

Flandre... was she her sister?

Passing through a strange dreamscape, Yoru awoke from a deep sleep.

What he saw and felt hadn't been his own memory—but he wasn't surprised. When a Master contracts with a Servant, sometimes the Servant's memories seep through as dreams.

Yoru didn't know much about Flandre's background, as she was a fictional Heroic Spirit, but from the dream, he gathered that she had an older sister.

However, their relationship didn't seem particularly warm. Despite it being dinner, Flandre wasn't present at the table. Judging by the conversation between the mistress and the maid, it seemed Flandre was being confined somewhere.

And clearly, the Scarlet family wasn't exactly a grand household—only the mistress and one maid lived in that vast mansion.

"It's been so long since I last felt truly awake, hasn't it…"

Yoru murmured to himself, finally understanding the hidden sorrow behind the girl's words spoken with a smile.

Dawn was just beginning to break. Beside him lay Irisviel, her peaceful sleeping face bathed in soft morning light. Yoru smiled gently and carefully brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.

The events of last night were hazy. He vaguely remembered wandering the streets of Fuyuki with Flandre until deep into the night, returning home only when exhaustion finally set in.

Though he'd only rested for a few hours, he didn't feel tired. Slipping out of the bedroom, Yoru made his way to the living room.

There, on a long couch, sat a girl with blonde side ponytails—Flandre—swinging her legs aimlessly, as if she hadn't slept at all.

Servants didn't need sleep. Yoru couldn't help but wonder what she did during the long, quiet hours of the night in this massive villa.

The Einzbern estate really did resemble the mansion from her memories.

"Do you want something to eat?"

Yoru sat beside her and asked casually.

"Servants don't need to eat, you know."

Flandre turned toward him, stating the fact with a straight face. But then her eyes narrowed slightly, and she stared at Yoru's neck with a...

Well, Yoru wasn't sure how else to describe it, but "lecherous" seemed strangely accurate, despite how odd it felt to say that about a young girl.

"If I had to say… a vampire's food is of course blood. If Master could let me have just a little, that'd be perfect."

"Blood, huh? That's fine—if you really want it, Flandre."

Yoru answered without hesitation. To him, Flandre wasn't just a Servant—he saw her more like a daughter. Letting her take a little blood was no big deal.

And judging from her expression, she really seemed to crave it. Had she gone a long time without drinking blood?

That was entirely possible. After all, from the dream, Yoru had learned a bit about her past—she'd likely been imprisoned in that mansion for a very long time.

"Really? Thank you, Master."

Flandre had only been joking, but to her surprise, Yoru actually agreed. Her eyes sparkled with joy as she leaned in, practically draping herself over him.

A soft, faint scent floated from the girl—one very similar to that of Illya or Yozakura. But unlike the childish fragrance of those two, Flandre's scent carried a mature allure, something that neither of them possessed.

Even Irisviel couldn't compare—Flandre's was like a deadly, intoxicating perfume, a scent that lured the senses.

After all, Irisviel was, age-wise, only a year older than Illya. But the girl in front of him, though she had a young girl's body, was a vampire who had lived for who knows how many years.

While his thoughts wandered, Yoru gently shifted to help her position herself properly—her head resting on his shoulder so that her mouth could easily reach his neck.

The girl, drawn in by the scent of blood beneath the skin, finally couldn't resist any longer. Her small, adorable fangs gleamed as she softly bit down along his vein.

It felt like a tiny needle prick—then, no pain at all. Flandre nestled against him, sipping gently, making little satisfied sounds like a kitten being petted by its owner.

Yoru gently patted her back, afraid she might choke if she drank too fast. Seeing the look of bliss on her face as she fed, he couldn't help but smile warmly.

But that warmth was soon replaced by a sudden, unexpected sensation that made Yoru stiffen.

It was as if his entire bloodstream had caught fire—a strange heat rising from within. His arms, which held the girl, tightened instinctively and began to move without thought. A mysterious, primal urge bubbled up from deep inside him.

What… what is this?

Feeling the strange desire stirring within, Yoru grew both confused… and uneasy.

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