"Brave young man, go forth and create a miracle~"
"What song is that? I don't get it at all."
In the dim room, Warfarin brought a glass of blood wine to her lips, her eyes glancing sideways at the man standing by the window... a man who, like her, had white hair and crimson eyes.
"Well, I wasn't singing for you anyway."
Compared to ordinary people, Lucifer, whose skin was exceptionally pale, gazed out at the desolate landscape. His face was as contorted as a Blood Demon who had just chugged the blood of a cancer patient.
That's right. He was a transmigrator.
Transmigrating to an alternate, anime-style world didn't seem to be a rare occurrence on Blue Star. Perhaps any day now, some unlucky soul would be chosen to go fight a god-king. Compared to those who had to boost the performance stats for truck drivers, Lucifer at least had the good fortune of transmigrating while he was still asleep.
But... what kind of transmigrator wakes up in the middle of a battlefield?!
His gaze drifted into the distance as his thoughts began to wander... Lucifer would never forget the first moments of his arrival on Terra for the rest of his life. The scene should have been him waking up in a dark, rented room. Yet, the moment he opened his eyes, he saw a Gallic Royal Guard stabbing a sword straight through his kidney.
Fortunately, the Blood Demon body he received in this second playthrough was quite durable. Its physical capabilities were on par with a Wolverine-level athlete, which saved him from having to start over in a third life.
The experience that followed remained seared into Lucifer's mind. The show opened with him getting his kidney gouged out. That was immediately followed by a Leithanien mage blasting him with magic, sending half his head and an arm flying. This enraged Lucifer, who was already foul-tempered upon waking, to the point of seeing red.
Less than 30 seconds after waking, Lucifer went hot-headed on the spot, fully awakening the raw instincts of a Blood Demon. If the Blood Demon Overlord hadn't descended to grant him a blessing later, he would've been in a sorry state.
"Are you still getting PTSD from that day? The war ended many years ago, Lucifer."
Warfarin turned around, crossing her legs elegantly. As a friend of several decades, Warfarin knew exactly what the "Blood Demon Prince" before her was thinking.
Lucifer turned his head but didn't utter a word.
Warfarin... the woman in the top hat, a short skirt paired with impossibly short leather pants, a trench coat specially tailored to resemble bat wings, and most importantly, a black garter on her right thigh. She was the second friend Lucifer had made since meeting the Blood Demon Overlord.
"I don't have PTSD. I just don't really like my name..."
The latter half of his sentence was spoken so softly that even Warfarin barely heard it.
Of course, how could his real name possibly be something as outrageous as "Lucifer"? It was just a name he had blurted out during his first encounter with the Blood Demon Overlord, at a time when his reason couldn't yet control the impulsive instincts of a Blood Demon. Compounded by the fact that enemies were shouting "You demons!" and "You fiend!" at him during the battle, he had spat out the name in a moment of pique.
However, the Blood Demon Overlord committed it to memory. From then on, the name "Lucifer" spread throughout the clan in place of his real one.
"Sigh... whatever. When in Rome, do as the Romans do."
Lucifer sighed softly, choosing to employ a special skill of the youth... which was to just let it go. In any case, his former self in the old world was just a social slave. How could that compare to the title of 'Blood Demon Prince,' personally bestowed upon him by the Blood Demon Overlord?
As for the war, it had indeed been a long time since the Kazdel Civil War ended.
Seeing Lucifer's sorrowful expression, Warfarin, who had drained her glass of blood wine, began to ask.
"You seem surprisingly calm. Or have you managed to conquer the instinct to drink blood?"
Warfarin had met Lucifer after the war ended. Compared to the Blood Demon Overlord and the other Blood Demons, Lucifer was a complete anomaly. He was neither warlike nor bloodthirsty.
"No... I just set a minimum standard for myself."
Over the long years, Lucifer had experimented on his own body countless times. If he didn't drink blood, his mind would often grow hazy. The most dangerous time was when the Blood Demon Overlord had to pull his consciousness back. If he drank too much blood, he was prone to overstimulation and going berserk, almost starting a real fight with the Blood Demon Overlord in a fit of rage.
Thus, Lucifer determined his blood intake based on those experiments. As long as he consumed a suitable amount of blood within a set period, he could maintain perfect lucidity and suppress his bloodthirsty instincts. Furthermore, Lucifer was a bit of a mental neat-freak. Unless it was a true emergency, he would never rip open a body to drink fresh blood.
"I see… but I wonder if the Blood Demon Overlord can control the instincts of a Blood Demon."
The apex of the Blood Demons was, without a doubt, the 'Blood Demon Overlord'. But from what Lucifer knew of 'Ducale,' not only would he not choose to control himself, but he would instead choose to indulge in it completely.
Compared to the primal, vampire-like urges of what were called Blood Demons, Lucifer found himself leaning more toward another of humanity's impulses within him.
"I just feel that... that sort of thing... is much more interesting."
"Huh?"
This abrupt change of topic made Warfarin's mind unable to catch up for a moment. Although that sort of thing was a kind of instinctual desire, for the Blood Demons and the Sarkaz of other royal courts, it was something that was almost nonexistent. Their reproduction rates were abysmally low.
However, as the most infamous clan among the Sarkaz, it was normal for a Blood Demon to have some strange quirks. Lucifer was probably just a particularly severe case.
Realizing this, Warfarin seemed to think of something fun. She gave a mischievous smile.
"In that case... shall I help you solve that problem?"
With that, Warfarin elegantly raised a slender leg towards Lucifer. The well-maintained, fair skin, the perfect curves, and that soul-snatching thigh garter—if it were any other man, they'd probably be getting all worked up.
But Lucifer merely gave Warfarin a cold once-over, then let out a soft sneer.
"I'd have better luck asking another Prince for a favor, or having the Blood Demon Overlord grant me a noblewoman. They'd have more substance than you."
"What?!"
Warfarin's hands clenched into fists as she shot up, but her chest, as flat as an airport runway, showed almost no movement at all. Although she wasn't completely flat as a board, every adult Sarkaz woman Lucifer knew could easily dwarf Warfarin, who was not even 160 cm tall. Besides, Lucifer and Warfarin were like a bickering pair. Trading insults and looking down on each other was just their normal routine.
Just as Warfarin was about to land a heavy punch on Lucifer, she saw him let out a cry of surprise, then turn to look at her with a questioning gaze.
"What's wrong?"
"The Blood Demon Overlord is coming. Probably just visiting me again."
"Oh, now I'm screwed!"
Warfarin clutched her head with both hands, feeling as if the sky was about to come crashing down. Don't be fooled by the casual way Lucifer mentioned the Blood Demon Overlord. Everyone, and every Blood Demon—except for him—was terrified of the Overlord.
Warfarin was no exception. She had met the Blood Demon Overlord only a handful of times and wished she could disappear from his memory forever, every single time.
"What do I do, what do I do?! Can I hide in your closet?!"
Warfarin, in her frantic state, was about to open Lucifer's closet but was stopped.
"Stop it. Since I only just sensed him now, he probably knew you were here long ago."
Hearing this, Warfarin's world went dark, and she almost lost consciousness right then and there.