The body died.

The woman didn’t.

Leinas’ eyes opened, and gone were the eyes of bright sky blue, her skin faded, her irises became vertical, her canines grew longer and her hair became dark as night while her skin took on the pallor of the dead after the blood pooled within.

She didn’t take a first breath.

Leinas would never breathe again.

When she looked up, the little cute vampire seemed more beautiful than before. Enthralling. Enticing. ‘I want to please her… I want to serve her… I am hers… forevermore…’ Those were the first thoughts to radiate upward from the deepest corners of her mind, and with them, Leinas was happy.

“Mistress… thank you.” Leinas whispered, and the looming blood moon eyes of Shalltear were out of view when Leinas turned her eyes to the masked caster who ruled her now immortal life. “My Lord…” Leinas acknowledged, and though she tried to move quickly, was unable to move beyond a snail’s pace.

But still, neither critiqued her slowness as she went up to one bended knee and bowed her head, as if they expected her to be sluggish.

“How do you feel, Leinas?” Ainz asked of her, his voice rich with what she took for concern.

“I am… yes, well. I am wonderful. I feel… sluggish, weak… but wonderful… Master.” Leinas answered.

“You’re hungry.” Ainz said and glanced over to Shalltear. “You have a fountain in your room from which she can feed, don’t you?”

Shalltear’s smile in that moment, made his skin instinctively crawl. “She is mine now, is this your intent, master?”

“Ah…” Ainz hesitated and pulled up in his memory what he knew of vampire lore. “Yes. I suppose she is. You will be responsible for everything about her, including her advancement in her warrior skills as a Vampire Knight.”

Shalltear began to stroke the dark hair atop Leinas’ head.

His skin continued to crawl beneath his robes, and so he raised one gloved finger of his right hand, “You are to see to her instruction… but remember that she came to us of her own accord. You are not to be cruel to her. She is one of us, now.”

In just that moment, she appeared to be the child her design was intended to mimic. Her head went down and her face screwed up tight in thought, like a child being given instructions on the proper care and feeding of a pet, but unsure if she properly understood.

Finally Shalltear raised her head to look at him. “Is it considered cruel to take her chastity?”

Ainz was silent for a moment as he processed what he’d just heard. The thought came up almost before his understanding did. ‘Peroroncinooooo!’ He howled within his mind and failed to ‘entirely’ keep off the shudder.

Shalltear appeared not to notice, but under his eyes the new vampire had entirely pressed her head into the hand of the one to remake her and was rubbing affectionately even when Shalltear’s hand ceased to move on its own, like each role was programmed into the other.

He put a hand over his mask and sighed, “Don’t order her to ask for that… don’t force her to do that… and I… I will leave you to your happiness.” Ainz swallowed hard, regretting the decision already touching his anxiety laden head. ‘Damn it, Peroroncino! Did you just paste the wiki list of fetishes into her flavor text?!’

He mocked the statement but then on second thought, ‘That is probably exactly what he did.’

“Thank you, Master.” Leinas and Shalltear said in the same moment, and each bowed their heads with gratitude.

Ainz closed the hand over his mask into a fist and cleared his throat with a needless cough, a deep desire to be away from the promise of future perversion ran through his blood, “Be that as it may, you will be accompanying me as my personal security, while Leinas will remain here. Take… five minutes, instruct her on what to do, then follow through the gate after me.”

‘A leg up on the succubus bitch!’ Shalltear considered with raw excitement both mental and physical coursing through her body, a flood of desire exciting her loins.

Ainz was gone through the gate spell a moment later.

When Shalltear was alone with her new pet, she giggled and cupped Leinas’ cheeks. “I’m going to give you some instructions for while I’m gone… but while I’m talking, get under my dress and keep your mouth moving too… the pleasure will be your reward, work hard for me to please the Lord of Nazarick… and I will show you heaven…”

Leinas didn’t answer verbally, she only moved to obey while she listened to her mistress speak.

Zaryusu held his sword out as the Dragon Tusk Tribe surrounded the would-be combatants.

“Will it be to the death?” He asked his towering opponent.

“Only if you die before you give up.” Zenberu replied and struck a posture with his large fist up and smaller one back.

Zaryusu wasn’t sure if the warrior was joking or not, but at ease with monsters, he relaxed his body and prepared to strike.

“You, woman, start the fight.” Zenberu said to the watching Crusch Lulu, she blushed faintly at the cheeks at his blunt address.

“Begin!” She said a moment later, and the two warriors clashed.

The fist of the monk came toward Zaryusu’s head with blinding speed.

“Icy Burst!” Zaryusu shouted as the spray of icy fog shot up around him, in a burst of white, at the same time he was ducking to avoid the blow and spun outward, swinging the blade up and striking the dominant arm of Zenberu.

The sword stopped dead as if he’d struck a stone. ‘Monk… he’s hardened his body… this won’t be easy.’

Zenberu showed no sign of pain, responding by spinning around and striking Zaryusu in the side with his tail, sending the warrior falling.

Cheers went up from the Dragon Tusk members, but those cheers faded when Zaryusu rose to his feet and immediately charged. The bearer of Frost Pain proved his mettle, avoiding another punch by so narrow a span that he felt the air whistle past the side of his head, then leaping up at the taller lizardman and hitting Zenberu’s jaw.

Zaryusu’s skull felt the impact of the powerful jaw, but though it rattled him to hit something as hard as a monk body, it clearly caught the chief unexpectedly.

Zenberu staggered back, he tasted blood. ‘I’ve bitten off my tongue…’ He realized when the severed part fell to the dirt where it was promptly stomped on by the advancing Zaryusu. He felt Frost Pain hit him again. ‘I need to stop this, to get a grip on him… he’s a great warrior… I can concede now…’

He snatched at Zaryusu’s sword hand and yanked it up high, then bent it back, snapping it hard enough that out of the corner of his eyes he could see his own people collectively wince. It had the desired effect, Zaryusu dropped the sword.

Zenberu then opened his mouth to speak, and realized the catch twenty-two, he needed to speak, and couldn’t.

‘He’s going to bite my neck?! He’s going to kill me?!’ Zaryusu realized in a moment of disbelief, he caught the sword in his other hand while pain radiated down his arm from the one with the broken wrist, and in a desperate thrust, his sword went through Zenberu’s mouth and emerged out the back of his neck.

The tribe’s maws collectively dropped as the bright blue blade pierced their Chief through and through, the faint fog of ice emerging around it freezing the scales it touched.

The hand holding Zaryusu’s wrist dropped to the side of Zenberu’s body, while Zaryusu’s heart raced and blood pumped through his veins more powerfully than the pain from his injury could flow.

He was breathing hard when he drew the sword out, and no longer holding up the body of the Chief, it toppled forward with a heavy wet ‘splat’. Blood dripped off the blade of blue, dripping down into the wet ground. Chest rising and falling, heart still racing on, Zaryusu held up the sword in front of himself, and Crusch Lulu rushed from where she stood alone, to stand with him. She glanced around at the tribe that stood utterly silent, staring at the body.

“Any- Anyone else?” Zaryusu demanded.

A Dragon Tusk druid approached, dark scales, muscular and holding a wooden staff, he stood beside the body of the Chief, crouched down, rolled the fallen warrior onto his back, and with trembling finger-claws, he closed the two wide and empty eyes.

“The Dragon Tusk follows the strong. The one who killed Zenberu, the bearer of Frost Pain, is a great warrior. And we will follow.”

The old druid began to pound his chest with the fist which held the staff, and the gesture was slowly taken up by the tribe, until there was only the sound of pounding fists, and the Dragon Tusk hailed their new Chief.

He leaned back and looked down to where Crusch Lulu stood, the healing light of her magic had already begun to erase the pain and heal his injured body. Her red eyes met his when she felt them on her and he said, “You now have three allies.”