I, Matou Sakura, Third of the Flame-Chasers!

She was as still as an inanimate object.

Or perhaps the Fallen Angel Amano Yuma of the past was long dead, and what remained within that shell was merely Amano Yuma, existing only as a tool.

Sometimes, killing a person was easy, so easy that one could perform the "bloody" deeds with a sense of pleasure.

"Does Lady Sakura require any plans?"

Nestled in Sakura's embrace, Belfast looked up, her azure eyes reflecting Sakura's face.

She yearned for something, something even a maid could achieve.

Not just preparing delicious black tea and sweet pastries for her master, nor simply staying to take care of the household.

She wanted to do more, to provide more help to her master.

She wanted to stain her purity with the blood of enemies, to clear obstacles for her master, even if they were only minor ones. "Have you thought it through?"

Sakura looked at her, her gaze incredibly gentle.

Her hand, which had been stroking Belfast's hair, gradually stopped and cupped her maid's delicate face.

"Are you prepared to be stained with blood alongside me? Not just blood, but also the curses of the weak, their pointless slander, and the possibility of death at the very end?"

"Tell me, are you truly ready?"

Words were sometimes powerless, Sakura knew this clearly.

And her maid answered her with actions: Sakura's lips were met with Belfast's, her lips were bitten through, and her maid stained Sakura's purity with her own blood.

At this moment, her smile was so beautiful, so mad, so pathological.

And Sakura was the same.

A mad smile, a joyful smile, and a delirious smile...

She had long been a monster wearing human skin.

Sixty-six, the Disobedient Maid Miss

Sitting at the edge of the island, Sakura rested one hand on her cheek, quietly watching the Black Mud below that became active with her arrival.

Dark light appeared in Sakura's hand, then slowly descended, like stardust.

Joy, gratitude, and love.

Accepting the emotions bestowed upon her by the life she created, Sakura smiled faintly.

"Grow up quickly."

"Alright, Mama will wait for you here."

She looked at the active Black Mud below, her gentle smile now carrying a hint of maternal affection.

It was truly her child, after all, a new life created with her own power.

She was the mother, Belfast was also her mother, and as for Nyarlathotep...

She could be an older sister.

Belfast was involved because this child was a fantasy creation based on Belfast as a Ship Girl.

She had already thought of a name.

It would be Egil~

She was already impatient for the birth of this new life~

"My Lady."

The sound of approaching footsteps, the respectful tone laced with fear.

"Oh, it's you."

Sakura turned her head, looking at Amano Yuma behind her.

The tool, now clothed, had a semblance of human form.

"Sit down beside me."

"Yes."

Without any resistance, like an obedient tool.

Stroking the dark, lustrous hair, inhaling the faint fragrance.

The ambiguous actions brought no joy to Amano Yuma; only deep fear flowed in her heart.

She feared Sakura's presence, and because of that fear, she deeply revered and obeyed her.

Her breasts were squeezed forcefully, her nipples were pulled, the pain in her body was so clear, yet she gritted her teeth, biting down hard, using this method to prevent herself from letting out even a whimper of pain.

She knew her master disliked such sounds.

And she understood that as a tool, she was meant to be used and discarded at will, without complaint.

The pain continued, with no intention of stopping.

Her pretty face was pale, devoid of any rosy hue.

Her cheeks twitched slightly. Though she wanted to curl up, to find some relief from the pain, she dared not. She could only force herself to remain upright, letting her body endure the suffering.

"Do you hate me?"

The sudden question was accompanied by a breath that brushed against her earlobe.

Her already pale complexion seemed to lose all its blood at that moment, turning a frightening, deathly white.

"I don't!"

Her voice trembled, rising in pitch from fear.

"Oh?"

Sakura merely smiled, a playful glint in her eyes. Her hands, which had been toying with Amano Yuma, stopped and instead began to gently caress the skin that had turned flushed because of her, the body trembling from the pain she was inflicting.

"Is that really so?"

Sakura narrowed her eyes, smiling as she looked at the tool before her.

She nodded vigorously. Her lips, bitten open and bleeding, were so alluring.

A deathly pale face, cherry-red lips. At this moment, Amano Yuma possessed a chilling charm in Sakura's eyes.

"Truly wonderful."

She chuckled softly, her hand caressing the cheek with such gentleness.

The gentle touch felt as though it could warm a heart, but Amano Yuma only felt cold. She just wished her master wouldn't grab her neck and squeeze hard.

She wanted to live. She just wanted to live!

Even if it meant living like a dog.

Her wings had been forcefully broken. Now, she was a bird without wings.

No, that wasn't right. She was a dog, a tool.

Someone she could be toyed with and trampled on at will, as long as she could survive!

Sakura saw it – that interesting heart.

Her finger gently prodded Amano Yuma's chest. It was mostly covered by layers of useless fat and skin, yet the poke felt as though it was directly piercing her heart.

Pain! So much pain!

Her eyes rolled back, revealing whites. Her hunched body and tightly tensed legs all indicated the agony Amano Yuma was currently enduring.

Water stained her black and white short skirt, irrigating the grass beneath her.

This was merely torture.

"Honestly, I'm not done playing yet."

Her voice and expression were tinged with a hint of grievance, but Sakura still watched Amano Yuma, who had fainted, with a smile.

She cupped the other's face, applying slight pressure.

It was a pleasant sound, but it vanished in an instant.

She was a little bored.

She dropped Amano Yuma, as if discarding trash.

...a trash heap, and her precious child wouldn't consume trash.

"Congratulations, you survived."

It sounded like a blessing, or perhaps a curse.

But Amano Yuma had survived. As a tool, a plaything, she had successfully lived.

For Sakura, this was merely a way to pass the time, and she had enjoyed herself immensely.

An angel without wings had been dealt with. Now, should she go toy with her next target?

To stain pure white wings with a deep black, to let a holy angel fall into her own desires?

This was a boring world, but it had many interesting toys.

Demons, angels, dragonkin, vampires, holy spirits, even ordinary yet interesting humans.

Sakura had many choices, and plenty of time.

An angel might not be her next target.

She sat on a chair, sipping steaming hot tea. Pernor lay in her arms, this adorable child nestled against her chest, her eyes closed. Asleep, she looked like a child.

Setting down her tea, Sakura puffed out her cheeks slightly, looking at the smiling maid beside her.

Why couldn't her maid understand human language?

She had clearly asked for normal black tea, yet here it was again!

"Lady Sakura, is there something you're not satisfied with?"

"You said it?"

Sakura smiled, though the smile looked abnormal no matter how you looked at it.

Longo-Minyad sped up its eating. Having been a part of this place for some time, while it hadn't yet been brought into a room by Sakura and played with to the point of being unable to care for itself, it had come to understand the peculiarities of this household to some extent.

Could it be called a household?

Though strange at times, it was mostly harmonious.

Alright, no need to think about it so much right now.

Miss Belfast was acting recklessly again. While it didn't know what she had put in Sakura's black tea, Miss Belfast was definitely going to be severely disciplined by Sakura afterward!

Indeed, it could already see it.

Belfast had taken Pernor's original spot. The little one who had been woken up blankly watched as her elder sister roughly removed her elegant skirt, revealing Belfast's perky backside.

A hand was raised, then brought down forcefully.

With a crisp sound, the maid, whose mind was already quite abnormal, blushed deeply. She gritted her teeth tightly, enjoying the whipping of both pain and pleasure.

Pernor puffed out her cheeks, and Longo-Minyad remained silent.

One just had to get used to things like this.

Sixty-Seven, The Control Devil

Kiryu Aika.

An unremarkable high school girl from Komatsubara Academy.

She loved all sorts of lewd topics, and in the eyes of others, Kiryu Aika was an anomaly, out of step with normal women.

Even among men, she seemed quite strange.