“He ate it!” Fenrir exclaimed in awe as Zag’giel steeled his nerves and went to devour the creature.
“Such courage!” marveled Elizavett.
The “sandwich” wailed a horrible, unearthly death shriek as Zag’giel bit down. He chewed furiously until it was nothing but homogeneous paste, and swallowed.
“W-Well?” asked Fenrir.
“It’s not going to burst out of your stomach, is it...?” wondered Elizavett.
The two watched, worried, as Zag’giel sat silently for a moment. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open. “Delicious!” he declared.
“Whaaaaaat?!” The other two furballs reeled.
The light texture and natural sweetness had indeed been a perfect match for carrot salad. There was a subtle sourness to it as well. Perhaps the carrots had been boiled with orange peel to lend subtlety to the flavor. It was, indeed, a thoroughly refreshing morsel.
“Mother’s cooking really does taste good,” Alus whispered quietly so only Zag’giel could hear. “But sometimes she produces these mysterious living creatures instead of regular food. Perhaps it’s because her aesthetic sense is so strange. She always calls them cute...” Alus grabbed one of the hell monsters out of the basket himself and took a bite. “See? It really is enjoyable food, as long as you close your eyes and plug your ears as you eat. And through some sorcery or other, they’re quite nutritious as well. The gentlemen from the militia have been looking much more robust ever since they learned to tolerate mother’s cooking...”
Other than appearances, the mysterious life-forms were the perfect foodstuff. That was the true miracle of the Archsage Aleksia’s cuisine.
“We see...” said Zag’giel. “Then that is why Kanata insisted on helping to prepare dinner last night...” She had been watching her mother closely to make sure she didn’t do anything strange in a fit of passion.
“Gah ha ha!” Boldow laughed. “Your sandwiches are the best, Leksi! I must be the luckiest man in the world to have got me a wife who’s so handy in the kitchen!”
“Oh, you!” Aleksia blushed.
Boldow had been eating Aleksia’s cooking since he was a young man, and had gotten used to its strange appearance. Or perhaps his will had simply been broken.
The family did their best to ignore the screams of the sandwiches as they ate.
“We suppose she, too, is one of Kanata’s parents, after all...” Zag’giel muttered. He plugged his ears to block out the sound—he was fairly sure he could hear faint screams coming from inside his stomach.
† † †
It had been one week since Sir Theodoric’s Temple Knights had lost sight of the Corpse Princess Elizavett.
“Our entire army has been searching for the witch, but there’s been no sign of her anywhere...” Theodoric’s voice was calm, but the quiet anger in his eyes had the Temple Knights standing at attention in front of him sweating with fear.
It was not known how far the girl could travel with that teleportation spell of hers, but it shouldn’t matter. The Holy Church had believers watching in all corners of the world. It was true that Saint Marianne had turned apostate, but the effect of that development was still localized. None of the churches would dare defy an order from the Temple Knights. It was as Theodoric originally suspected. She must have gone somewhere where she could avoid being seen by humans altogether, in the far reaches of civilization, beyond the influence of the Holy Church.
Unfortunately, there was no shortage of such places in the world. Theodoric had three thousand Temple Knights under his command. It was impossible for them to search every location she could conceivably be. They would have to take the time to exhaustively go over the entirety of the fringes of the world with a fine-tooth comb.
“Well, no matter,” Theorodic said. “You’re dismissed. Don’t contact me unless you learn something.”
“Y-Yes, Sir!” the Temple Knights said, and left.
Alone in his office, Theodoric slumped despondently into his chair.
“And just when I thought we were finally to be wed...” he sighed.
Alas, Theodoric’s wish had gone unfulfilled. The wider they cast their net, the larger the holes. It would take a period of time measured in years to search every village without a nearby church one at a time.
“Take heart,” came a voice from above. “Your wish may yet be granted.”
A shiver ran down Theodoric’s spine. The voice he heard had been one of superb divinity. Above him, he could feel the presence of something whiter than the purest white.
“Y-You...” he said. “Could it be...?”
He looked up fearfully to see the Goddess, looking down at him with a smile of benevolent love. Ordinarily, the gods spoke to none other than their intermediary, the Saint. A direct visitation from the Goddess was nothing short of a miracle. Theodoric found himself utterly unable to move from the awe of it.
“Temple Knight Theodoric Grey,” the Goddess intoned. “You love the Corpse Princess Elizavett, do you not? Despite your station, you harbor feelings for an undead—a being who defiles life itself, rejecting the cycle of death and rebirth...”
“I-I...” Theodoric stammered. He knew perfectly well that his love was forbidden, but had he truly committed any sins so great as to force the Goddess—the creator of the entire world—to descend from the heavens to pronounce his guilt? Now that the gods had found out, he would have no choice but to give up on Elizavett and go to slay her in earnest. He scowled bitterly, caught between his faith and his longing for the vampire of his dreams.
The Goddess, however, simply smiled beneficently. “Your love has moved my heart,” she said.
“What...?”
“The purity of your love has moved me as few have before.”
Much to Theodoric’s surprise, the Goddess appeared to be praising him. How could a divine being speak such blasphemous words?
“Ordinarily, such a love would not be permitted—your star-crossed love, transcending species itself. However, I shall grant you this indulgence. As a god, it is my right to pardon sins. Henceforth, none may call your love a sin.”
“A-Ahh!” Theodoric cried. “Your Divinity! You would bless my forbidden love?!”
“The love you have chosen is one of trial and tribulation. But worry not. I will reveal to you the place where your beloved is held prisoner. And I will give you the blessing of the Hero, that you may deliver the witch to her fitting end.”
Hero was a special Profession that only appeared when the Demon King threatened to destroy humanity, given to the one chosen to stand against the forces of darkness. It was a powerful class that would send all of someone’s abilities skyrocketing to dozens of times their previous limit, and came with a vast array of powerful magic and sword techniques. It was without a doubt the strongest Profession available to humankind, and the Goddess intended to grant it to Theodoric directly.
Theodoric made up his mind in that moment—he and Elizavett were destined to be wed. After all, the creator of the world herself had appeared to bless the union.
“The wicked witch who has spirited away your beloved hides in the northern reaches of the kingdom, in a small fiefdom on the border. Destroy her, and win back your beloved. Then, you must deliver the retribution of the gods to the heretical cult that protects her!”
Theodoric knelt down, taking a vow on his honor as a knight. “Your will be done! Just you watch, Your Divinity! I will destroy your enemies if it costs me my life!”
The Goddess nodded, smiling to herself as she changed Theodoric’s Profession to Hero. And soon, with the greatest power that could be granted to a human in his hands, he marched forth at the head of an army of Temple Knights, headed for the kingdom’s northern border.
† † †
“Ahhhh...” Elizavett sighed. “Truly, this is paradise...” She had just gotten out of the bath and was lying down to sleep, thinking over her many blessings. “The food is delectable, the bath is warm, and the people of this land are as good-natured as the family that governs them...”
The people of the Aldezia fiefdom had been happy to accept Kanata’s furballs into their community. Elizavett, Zag’giel, and Fenrir were almost entirely useless, but they worked hard, and people had taken to giving them treats as a reward for their efforts. Thanks to their kindness, the balls of fluff were starting to look even rounder than before.
“It would be a better paradise if I could sleep with all of you...” Kanata moped.
Ever since returning to her hometown, Kanata had been forced to let Zag’giel and Fenrir sleep in a separate bed. Partly, they were trying to avoid upsetting Elizavett by forcing her to share a bed with men, but Kanata’s father Boldow had also wanted his share of nighttime gossip between men. Zag’giel had been eager for the chance to talk with Boldow the Divine Sword as well, and so it was settled.
Fenrir, for his part, had thought it was terribly unfair. “Why should you be the only one allowed by Lady Kanata’s side?!” he had protested, but in the end he’d been compelled to sleep with the other men.
“You have me, Mistress,” Elizavett said, snuggling close. “Would you not rather embrace me than the likes of a man?”
Kanata wrapped her arms tight around the tiny vampire, burying her face against her fluffy stomach. “Hnnnhhh...” She breathed in deep, taking in all the fluff particles she could absorb. “Fluff fluff...fluff fluuuuff...”
“Hee hee hee!” Elizavett giggled. “You are truly precious, Mistress. But are you satisfied holding this small furball in your arms? Might I return to my original form, that we might enjoy each other more fully?”
“No, thank you!” Kanata chirped as she fed Elizavett her daily dose of blood.
“Nghn...” Elizavett grumbled in dissatisfaction as she sucked the blood from Kanata’s finger. “Mistress, your chaste virtue is most frustrating at times...”
Kanata’s blood served to heal Elizavett’s wounds, but it also possessed a strange power that kept her trapped in her furball form. Zag’giel had theorized that this phenomenon resulted from the holy power in Kanata’s blood clashing with Elizavett’s undead nature.
“Such delicious blood...” she sighed. “Between Mistress’s blood and the tomato juice you produce in this village, ’tis difficult indeed to say which is more delectable...”
“Elizabat!” said Kanata. “Don’t drink too much or you’ll make my finger swell up!”
“Oh, goodness!” said Aleksia as she stepped into the room dressed in a negligee. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”
Aleksia had been sharing a room with Kanata and Elizavett. She had insisted it was unfair for only Boldow to deepen his relationship with Kanata’s new friends, so the three women in the house had been getting to know each other as well.