The initial boost in self-esteem from the transmuted demonic sword made me drunk on it.
The way I pushed a B-Class Yokai, a Succubus, in Kurumu was otherworldly, and even now, after 30 seconds of going crazy, pulling off flying sword slashes that toppled down trees at a rate that I might get a job from IKEA for how quick and efficient I was at dispatching them.
Running, brandishing my demonic sword and even switching up my strategy by trying to get the fight at Kurumu's aerial territory, but my agility wasn't up for the job quite yet.
I could scale up trees like a Konoha Ninja, even teach Naruto how to do it properly, but my steps still looked sluggish because Kurumu managed to harass me with her extending nails and her succubus tail that she now used like a whip.
Even now, she tried to fight me back as I parried her claw-like strike with her nails extending, dagger sharp.
"It's disappointing, Kurumu-chan!" I called up, my voice echoing with a bravado I was straining to maintain. My mana ticked down (200/350). "All this running! I thought you wanted to shred me into mince for 'humiliating' you." I landed on a lower branch and stared at the beauty.
"From how you're acting, avoiding me... I'm starting to think you enjoyed my treatment."
"Like, how could you bear to hurt your 'Destined One', am I right?"
Her amethyst eyes, wide with fury and that lingering, instinctive fear, flashed. My taunt hit its mark, piercing her pride, and let's be fair, who doesn't want to punch a troll in its face? Come, drop your guard and come fight me, I'll even let you hit once.
"ENJOYED IT?!" she shrieked, the sound raw and piercing. All hesitation burned away in a nova of offended Gyaru energy. "I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT ENJOYMENT IS, YOU VERMIN!"
Like a vengeful harpy, she dived down her nails, withdrawing, but still to the length capable of skewering me, instead her focus seemed to switch to her tail as I could see it glow with concentrated Yoki. Then came her strike, a whip of her tail as it speared toward my chest like a scorpion's sting, aiming to impale me against the tree trunk.
It was the reckless, all-in attack I'd been hoping for.
'Now! I have her for sure this time.'
Instead of dodging, I planted my feet. As her tail shot forward, I pivoted, using the demonic sword to take the brunt of her clawed follow-up strike from her left hand. The force of it vibrated up my arm, numbing my fingers, but I held. At the same time, my left arm shot out.
I grabbed for the one thing she'd left exposed while attacking, the base of her lashing, outstretched tail.
My hand closed around it just above the fleshy heart-tip. She gasped, a sound of pure shock, her forward momentum yanking me off the branch.
"Flashbacks from the lake side or the nurse office? A weak spot. I like it."
"You annoying man, why can't you just drop dead?"
No way was I letting go of this opportunity. As my feet left the wood, I kicked down hard against the trunk I'd been standing on, not just jumping, but exploding off it, shattering the bark and using the violent recoil to propel myself into her, closing the gap she'd been so carefully maintaining.
For a split second, I was face-to-face with her in mid-air, her eyes wide with stunned horror. I was in her inner range, a place no ground-bound opponent should be.
Her free hand, the right, slashed at my throat in a panicked, instinctive arc. I brought the Demonic Sword up in a desperate diagonal block.
'Damn, give me a break. I even powered up to this extent and I'm still having a hard time with Kurumu. Then how bad would be to face against the Kuyo guy from Academy Enforcers.'
'Mostlikely the same fate as previous Tsukune, being burned to hell.'
Gritting my teeth and bracing for impact, our weapons met again in a shower of sparks, locking us in a strained, hovering stalemate, suspended in the air by her frantic wingbeats and my grip on her tail.
I could smell her perfume, see her purple laced panties underneath her miniskirt, but for all that enticement, my senses were blurred by the demonic energy of the Sword. She tried to yank her tail free, but I held on like a drowning man to a lifeline, my demonic bracer reinforcing my grip with crushing force.
'She got away again… Does she also have the female lead plot armor or something?'
This feeling of inferiority, especially as I subconsciously comparing myself to the previous Tsukune, at how annoying the butterfly effect could be at times. All of this started pissing me.
Also, I was in big trouble if I didn't manage to defeat and submit Kurumu. Why you might ask? Because my mana was bleeding away (140/350) and the reminder of the system didn't appease the sense of urgency in my head.
The sword's hunger was becoming a palpable ache in my soul. I was out of time for finesse.
"Having trouble?" I grunted through clenched teeth, "Thought this would be easier?"
She snarled, baring her fangs, her beautiful face twisted into a mask of primal rage. "LET GO!"
"Make me."
But it was she who made the next move. As I tensed to strike at the base of her wings, her amethyst eyes flashed with a sudden, sinister violet light. The air between us grew thick and sweet, cloying like rotting orchids.
A wave of psychic power hammered into my mind.
"I'm out of mana… You bastard are really a nuisance."
Visions of a willing, smiling nude Kurumu, of soft whispers and warmer embraces into her generous bosom, flooded my senses, short-circuiting my combat logic. My grip on her tail, so desperately maintained, went slack.
'Have I told you how much I hate creatures with Manipulation Kit Skills? No? Now I do! Fucking bitch, I thought I started to get better at defending the mental attacks, but nooo, I'm stunned again.'
"Idiot!" she said with certain disdain, yanking her tail free with a whip-crack motion.
And then I was falling.
'Damn you, little bitch!'
The world lurched, the tree canopy spinning above me. The charm broke as quickly as it came, leaving only the cold dread of gravity.
My reactive instincts, driven by pride and desperation, took over. Even in free fall, while in deep shit, I had the craziness to fight back. As I tumbled, I twisted my torso, ignoring the screaming protest in my shoulder. I couldn't get a full, powered swing, but I could manage a desperate, one-armed slash. I channeled a burst of my dwindling mana down the demonic blade and hurled the energy outward.
A crescent of jagged, dark energy, half-formed and unstable—screamed upward. It wasn't the clean, bisecting wave I wanted, but a wild, scything discharge.
Kurumu, who had just begun to steady herself in the air, let out a sharp cry.
"Tsukune!! You hateful man!"
She twisted hard to dodge it with her B-tier Agility, but it was not fast enough.
The ragged energy slash caught the edge of her wing and the underside of her thigh, slicing through fabric and skin. A spray of dark, violet-tinged blood misted the air. Her wingbeat faltered, and with a pained shriek that was equal parts fury and shock, she spiraled down, crashing through lower branches in a cacophony of snaps and rustles.
I followed a heartbeat later, the ground rushing up to meet me.
'I need to learn a flight spell or just embrace the Vampire lifestyle. No, just ditch this Yokai Academy and go to Kuoh and let Rias or Sona turn me into a Devil!'
'If that doesn't work, I can also search for Azazel and get him to help me with awakening my Sacred Gear.'
'If even that doesn't work in my favor, then I'll be damned and join the Vatican, live a life of abstinence from tits and ass, maybe this way it will please Big G and have my Sacred Gear awakened.'
'Now, this isn't a bad idea at all. The female Angels there are such baddies.'
As it is said, when in freefall time slows down and you get an existential crisis with life flashing before you.
From the forest floor, Moka transformed into that extra spectator that could only cry, or lament her uselessness. Since the moment Tsukune took the reigns over the dynamics in their relationship, in the sense that she was the one doing the protecting and not the otherwise, she stood there like a statue.
Sometimes hearing the voice from the rosary, commenting on the transformation taking place with Tsukune and her own reflections on stuff she wasn't even aware as a Vampire.
[That fool, he thinks I'm impressed by seeing him burn his life to sustain that demonic sword?]
[Furthermore, when did he find that scroll? That is the creation of Mephistopheles? Can't tell from here since I'm still sealed by the Rosario. But those demonic scrolls aren't your you give you receive, far from it, it's mainly I take everything you hold dear.]
[Tsk, his swordsmanship is so lousy it hurts my eyes looking. But I give him that, he's ingenious to pull on that flying sword, utilising the density of demonic energy]
Who was the Vampire here? Outer Moka couldn't explain how the scroll worked, as she had only some basic understanding of the supernatural world. Only her scary, imposing self, Inner Moka, had a grasp over all this supernatural aspects.
Her knuckles were white where she clutched to her chest, her gem-like eyes wide, tracking the violence in the treetops. Each clash of energy, each shriek of metal on claw, sent a fresh jolt through her.
[Heh, he's getting impatient and wastes his mana by doing those pointless slashes.]
[Good boy. Pull on that little bitch tail and just drag her to the ground and teach her humility. Ahh, no, she used her last of mana to put him under a Charm.]
[I'll give that Succubus her dues, she knows how to take advantage of her strength.]
She saw the demonic energy, a malevolent darkness, eating its way up Tsukune's right arm from the sword. It had started at his hand, but now it crawled past his elbow, tendrils of it licking at his shoulder, staining the air around him with a heat-haze of malice. It was wrong. It was a corruption that felt utterly alien to the kind, slightly clumsy boy she knew.
When he fell, her heart stopped.
[Hey, weakling. Snap out. You have to catch Tsukune or he'll get incapacitated. The Succubus isn't yet dead, and might get both of you in the end, and that's me included.]
With the Inner Moka's reminder, Outer Moka took an unconscious step while crying out.
"TSUKUNE!"
By this point she stopped thinking, her body moving before her mind could process the 65-feet drop. However, her speed wasn't the ethereal agility of her inner self, it looked more like a human-level agility her vampire body could muster.
She wasn't going to make it. He was falling too fast.
'I'm still far. Will not make it.'
[Do I have to force open the seal? This might hurt my outer self long term, and I even risk losing myself.]
A sob hitched in Outer Moka's throat. But then she saw him twist, saw the ragged energy slash, saw Kurumu fall. It bought her a microsecond, altered his trajectory just enough.
Moka slid across the leaf litter, her shoes digging furrows in the soil, and threw her arms out.
The impact was brutal. He crashed into her, not with the gentle weight of a person, but with the terrifying, bone-jarring momentum of a falling object. The air left her lungs in a pained 'oof'. Her arms wrapped around him, buckling under the strain, and they tumbled together in a tangled heap of limbs, skidding to a stop against the thick roots of an ancient cedar.
For a moment, there was only the sound of ragged breathing and the rustle of settling leaves.
[Impresive. Even in that situation he managed to strike back.]
Moka recovered first, pain flaring in her back and shoulders, utterly ignored. She pushed herself up, her hands immediately flying to Tsukune's face, his shoulders. "Tsukune! Tsukune, look at me! Are you okay? Can you hear me?"
Her eyes, however, were locked on his right arm. Up close, it was worse. Inky, pulsating veins of black mana crawled beneath his skin, visible through cracks that glowed with a sickly violet light. It had passed his elbow and was creeping toward his shoulder.The sensation was beyond pain; it was a profound, soul-deep violation, a hungry cold that burned as it consumed. The sword's hilt felt fused to his palm, as if the metal had grown roots into his bones.
The demonic energy wasn't just that an aura, it looked like his skin was cracking, veins of pulsating black mana visible beneath from the corrosion of darkness.
The sword in his hand seemed fused to his flesh, and a wave of nauseating, demonic icy-heat radiated from it, as if someone dragged his arm into the Underworld.
"Your arm..." she whispered, her voice trembling with a fear that had nothing to do with the dishevelled Succubus now struggling to her feet a dozen yards away.
This was a different kind of danger, one that felt like it was consuming him from the inside out. "What is that thing doing to you? Please, let it go!"
She tried to pry his fingers from the sword's hilt, but they were locked in a rigor of pain and power. He felt like a statue, cold and burning at the same time.
Nearby, Kurumu staggered up, clutching her bleeding thigh. Her wing was bent at a painful angle. Her gaze, however, was fixed on Tsukune with a new, dawning horror that mirrored Moka's own.
(Tinnitus ringing)
'What's going on with me?'
[❗]
[WARNING!]
[Host Mana Depleted!]
[Initiating Essence Consumption Protocol.]
'Man, I have this pain in my chest that I can't explain. It's almost… hollow. Like something's being scooped out. Ah. Right. My soul's the fuel now.'
The realization was bizarrely calm.
Tsukune groaned in pain as he opened his eyes, looking first at Moka's tearful expression that was locked onto his arm, and then his own eyes followed the monstrosity. Shock washed over him, then a hint of worry and scare started to settle in because it felt too real to him.
You could detach yourself, when watching fantasy or reading it, that when the villain's dark powers came on, while cool and all from outside didn't quite match with his reality.
This wasn't a cool, aesthetic power-up from a manga panel.
'It's time I start reciting the psalms in my heart? Fuck, who am I kidding, I barely remember Our Father.'
'Dear Father…'
'... Man, I'm stupid, how could Big G help me now when he died in the Great War? if the lore here is anything like DxD's.'
'It hurts so deep, makes nerve damage nothing but an afterthought, an itching.'
'Still, I have to bear this pain and learn another important lesson with this experience of handling Demonic Tools. Never put your trust in them, especially if it's from an ancient Devil with an addiction to human souls.'
'Fair trade my ass. Pray I never meet the craftsman. Actually, no—scratch that. If it's someone like Gaunter O'Dimm, I'm already bent-over and screwed in ways I can't even comprehend.'
'I can't last like this. Should prepare the contingency plan. It's time I pull out my real trump card.'
His willpower, already strained from the fight and the fall, wavered against the corrosion of demonic energy. This was a high stakes gamble he couldn't fully comprehend nor go all-in by himself, not like a crazy gambling addict from Kakegurui, and his lack of knowledge was a yawning chasm of risk.
He couldn't afford to lose himself here.
"Moka," he gritted out, his voice rough. "Closer."
The pink-haired vampire, her face now a tear-streaked mess, leaned in immediately. "Tsukune! Hold on, I—"
"The rosary," he interrupted, his left hand—trembling but determined—reaching for her chest. His fingers fumbled against the cool metal of the lock. "Now."
Her eyes widened. "But… you're hurt. What if it doesn't work? I can't just—"
"Please, Moka. I know my feelings for you." His gaze locked with hers, the pain in his eyes now layered with another kind of emotion while remaining unyielding. "Trust me."
That simple plea broke through her panic. With a shaky nod, she stilled, allowing him to work. His left hand, clumsy with pain, found the clasp. With a soft click that seemed deafening in the tense silence, the seal released.
The transformation was instantaneous. A surge of palpable, crushing demonic energy erupted from Moka's form. The gentle pink of her hair bled into radiant, flowing silver. Her emerald eyes ignited into smoldering crimson orbs that held various mysteries in them. The air itself grew heavy, charged with the static of this released demonic.
Outer Moka's soft concern vanished, replaced by Inner Moka's coldness and that imperious intensity of her S-tier Demonic Energy that put her in the boundary between a High-Class Devil and Ultimate Class. For all that display of passive yoki, Inner Moka looked down at the wounded man with complex emotions.
Her silver hair cascading like moonlight—her hand cradling his head didn't push him away. Usually she would feel repulsed by the idea of holding a man in such a position, only her little sister Kokoa received such care from her.
It was a paradox. Since when did she start caring about this reckless idiot? Was it when he first came to Outer's rescue when she was about to break the seal herself to kill Saizo? There were more moments as she silently observed Tsukune from Outer's vision, noticing the small details about his actions.
"Baka." she sighed, her voice a blend of annoyance and something perilously close to concern.
She was still cradling his head in her lap, but the gesture now felt less like comfort and more like a queen deigning to survey a particularly troublesome, yet valuable, possession.
Her thumb brushed a smear of dirt from his temple, the action gentle despite her tone. "What did I tell you? You are in a world of pain if I catch you doing something this reckless."
She was still cradling his head in her lap, but the gesture now felt less like comfort and more like a queen surveying a possession.
Her crimson eyes flicked to his corrupted arm, and her lip curled in disdain. "What's more, you're now playing around with toys from Underworld Abyss. Did you really believe there would be no cost? Even if the devils say it's a fair exchange, they insert windows of taking advantage of their contracts."
Tsukune managed a weak, pained smirk, his eyes meeting her crimson gaze. "Hehe… I guess the house… never loses."
"You're such an idiot!" she snapped, her voice rising with a frustration that was too sharp, too immediate to be missed by Tsukune. It was the anger of someone who'd been watching a train wreck in slow motion and finally couldn't hold it, afterall, she just found her 'Destined One' that could casually remove the Rosario Cross like it was an afterthought.
"What was your plan? Huh? Hope I'd just pop out and clean up your mess? Again?" She gestured violently at his limp, corrupted arm. "Look at you! You can't even feel it, can you? It's eating you, and you're just lying there with that stupid smirk!"
Her words stung him a bit… no, actually a lot from how his expression got all depressed. He stared down, the exact view of a sulking little boy who got scolded by his big sister or mother. Still, he was aware that what Outer Moka was experiencing, Inner Moka would also feel it, so all that turmoil for sure didn't earn him a cookie or a head pat.
'Whoa, she scolds me as if she was my mother. No, more like that jealous girlfriend who found out that you played all night Call of Duty and left her silent as you sleep throughout the day.'
'At worst, I would die or be turned into the slave of a Devil? What is the difference of the Peerage members of the High-Class Devils? Apart from Rias and Sona who treated their peerage with certain integrity, the rest of Devils view them as lesser slaves.'
'And there are plenty of 'What Ifs' in this situation. Even now. I could hope that my Sacred Gear awakens and be able to play this 'game' in P2W version.'
'Life is not fair, ojou-sama. I'm not as strong as you that my own parents sealed my own persona so I wouldn't cause chaos in the family and human world.'
Before he could answer, her free hand shot out. She didn't bother with grabbing the demonic sword, no, she was rather direct in her approach, simply wrapping her elegant, deceptively delicate fingers around his wrist, just above the creeping corruption.
Her touch was like ice and iron, the demonic energy of the sword was no match for the oppressive S-tier energy.
"Release it," she commanded, and it was not a request. It was a psychic and physical pressure that tolerated no argument. Violet energy, the last dregs of the sword's possessive magic, sparked against her pale skin—and was snuffed out like a candle in a hurricane as her own demonic energy intensified with a crimson splendor.
With a wrenching tear that felt both physical and spiritual, the bond between Tsukune and the demonic blade was severed leading to a high agonyzing groan of pain from Tsukune who almost lost consciousness, but forced himself awake out of stubbornness.
He might be a normal human, but each of us has a crazy beast hidden inside.
The sword clattered to the forest floor, its malevolent glow instantly dimming to a dull, dead black. The retreat of the corrupting energy was agonizing, like pulling out barbed hooks. It left behind a latticework of angry, blackened scars across his forearm and hand—permanent tattoos of his recklessness.
'Finally, that motherfucking sword parasiting on me is gone. Thanks my lucky stars for giving Tsukune a hot, baddie Vampire GF.'
'Not yet, but I'm working on it early on. Let me show you how you make baddies fall for your pretty face Tsukune-kun.'
Inner Moka observed the scene with her crimson gaze detached, acting indifferent to the situation, as if it wasn't a big deal to her. But she was pleasantly surprised once again, because she was aware of how frail and weak humans actually were.
For a human—in fact even for lesser Yokai (C-to-F)—to withstand the severing of a demonic pact without scarring their minds and soul was… notable.
"Your mind is stubborn as mule. This in fact explains a lot about you acting like a reckless idiot." she stated, her voice devoid of its earlier heat, now cool and assessing. "But, I'll give you praises. A lesser creature would have broken. Do not mistake that for a compliment. It merely means your capacity for enduring foolish pain is exceptional."
"Almost masochistic."
While mentally exhausted, Tsukune just gave her a relived smile as he sagged against Moka's body. "Well…" he managed, his voice a thin, laced with exhausted sarcasm. "At least the landing… is comfortable. Five-star… service, my Duchess."
A faint, incredulous puff of air escaped Moka's lips. She looked down at the human boy using her as a pillow amidst the forest debris, his blood and dirt staining her pristine uniform.
The audacity.
She rolled her crimson eyes, a practiced gesture of supreme annoyance, that lately raised only when facing Tsukune or when observing him behind Outer's eyes. "You are insufferable," she declared, her tone icy. "Using a noble Shinso Vampire as a cushion. You have no sense of decorum whatsoever. Others would be only mumified corpses without blood after such impudence."
Yet, she did not push him away. Her hand, which had moments ago been an instrument at destroying the demonic sword, remained cradling his head, her thumb absently, almost unconsciously, stroking a clean spot on his temple.
The weight of him, the complete trust in his collapse, sent a confusing warmth through her chest—a feeling she swiftly buried under layers of her aristocratic disdain.
Weakness and dependence on someone was something she scorned, but now that it was her place to shoulder such a display, she couldn't help but feel nostalgic.
'I wonder how Kokoa is doing back at Shuzen Castle. I kinda miss that annoying brat. Always wanting to fight me to prove her worth, but this was the only fun we could have in the castle.'
'Hope she's doing well, and hasn't forgotten her goal of surpassing me.'
'Not that is possible, but it's good to be driven.'
After a moment of silence broken only by his labored breathing, she spoke again, her voice lower, a suspicious edge to it. "You are doing this on purpose," she accused, though the sharpness was blunted by the quiet of the forest, and the occasional pained grunts from Kurumu.
"This… helplessness you're showing. You calculated this, didn't you? You exposed yourself to that Succubus girl, putting yourself in peril so I would be forced to intervene. So you could…" She trailed off, stopping from whatever her heart was about to say, yet the increase in heartrate, rare as it was for her kind, was confirming her emotions.
It was a tactic she recognized, in theory. All that Japanese and Korean Dramas weren't for nothing when she was sneaking to the 'Recreational Area' of the Castle just to watch her DVD collection of drama movies while Akua, Kahlua and Kokoa were diligently training.
An absurd thought on her part, since why would he risk his life just for the occasion of using her thighs as a 'pillow lap'. Call it reserved, but she wasn't quite thinking like a human girl and wasn't up to par with how depraved the modern world would turn.
Tsukune's eyes, half-lidded with exhaustion, met her suspicious gaze. A ghost of his earlier smirk played on his lips, weak but unmistakable. "Caught me," he breathed, the words barely audible.
"My perfect keikaku… is revealed."
He took a shallow, pained breath, but deep down he felt far better after severing the connection with the demonic sword, and for the most he was 'acting', speaking his mind of what he felt. "Who in their right mind… wouldn't want a legendary vampire beauty… as a sugar mommy? All the protection… someone to hold your hand through the monster fights…"
He coughed, a bit dry, like that cough you did to get something from your throat.
"The benefits… seem pretty solid from where I'm lying."
The sheer gall delivered in his near-broken state, left her momentarily speechless. It was vulgar, human, and crass, reducing the terrifying dynamic between them to an attempt at courting her. It was also so utterly Tsukune that it circumvented her defenses entirely.
A strange, tight sensation constricted her chest, it wasn't anger, but something more flustered. Her cheeks heated faintly, and turning her head away from Tsukune's staring gaze, she willed away this traitorous reaction.
"You… you incorrigible fool!" she finally snapped, but the venom was gone, replaced by a flustered exasperation. She flicked his forehead with a finger, the gesture far gentler than her words.
A sharp, theatrical yelp escaped Tsukune. He scrunched his face into an exaggerated mask of pained indignation, complete with a wounded pout. "Violence!! How dare you?"
"Have you no sense hurting a wounded patient?"
She rolled her eyes again, her own lips threatening to twitch despite her best efforts to maintain a glacial facade. She leaned in, her silver hair falling like a curtain around them, and delivered another swift, precise flick to the same spot.
"This is for daring to presume I had no common sense. Also, to remind you, that you now owe me a reward for pulling you out of the Devil's clutches."
Tsukune's pout shifted into a weak, conspiratorial grin. He was still pale, still lying broken in her lap, but a glimmer of cunning shone through the exhaustion. "No problem," he whispered, his voice gaining a thread of focus. "Make it double, then."
"Do me one more favor… grab Kurumu-chan for me before she flies away. Bring her close."
"I see. By chance, you are not planning on killing that little girl?"
"Why ask?" he murmured, feigning hurt. "Do I have 'Murderer' or 'Psycho' written on my forehead?" A weak gesture to his face. "Ah, right now it's all covered by the bruising you gave me."
"Jokes aside," he continued, his tone dropping to something more serious. "The wound from the sword will not be treated normally. Usually you would go for a priest that can purify it with Holy Magic, but in this blasted place, no chance finding that."
"So we switch tactics. I have my own ability, remember. It works in multiple ways. Slay a foe, defeat or subjugate them, and a part of their powers will be integrated with myself."
Inner Moka went very still. "... Why tell me this secret?" To share the mechanics of one's power was an act of profound vulnerability in the Supernatural World.
"Because," Tsukune said, his gaze unwavering, "You're my lifeline in this wrecked place. If I want to survive and grow to my true potential, I can only clear the mist between us early, so you don't doubt my intentions."
He glanced toward the trembling Succubus. "Just give her a good, final scare. She's teetering on the edge of surrender. She knows she's lost."
"Obviously," Moka replied, her aristocratic haughtiness returning as she looked away from him. "Now that I am here, she has no chance of victory. Or escape."
Inner Moka's gaze then swept across the clearing, landing on Kurumu. The Succubus had managed to stand, but she was a wreck—wing bent, thigh bleeding, her face pale with pain and shock.
That shock turned to abject, primal terror as the full, unveiled presence of a Shinso Vampire settled on her.
Moka looked down at Tsukune, her expression unreadable. "Do not forget what you promised me, Tsukune. You owe me double. Make sure you're prepared for the pain."
Tsukune gulped, this time it was unknown what was on his mind, if it was from fear or actual anticipation for what Moka had in mind for him, for which he could tell that she was after his pristine, premium hemoglobin.
Thought, only a single, triumphant thought echoed in the quiet of his mind.
'All according to Keikaku.'