Thud. Thud. Thud.
Tenra strode toward Elmenhilde and her attendants, each step echoing like a war drum. With every footfall, the vampires' hearts skipped and stuttered—danger, the kind that claws at your instincts and demands you run. But locked in Tenra's gaze, they couldn't move, couldn't even flinch. All they could do was watch as he closed the distance.
He didn't spare a glance for the servants. Instead, he towered over Elmenhilde, looking down with a cold, merciless smile.
"Miss Elmen, when I said I could wipe out your entire race single-handed, did you think I was joking?"
His voice was frigid—almost amused.
"I wield the God-Slaying Gears: Boosted Gear, Divine Dividing. My Tyrant Supremacy can unleash their true forms. Who among your kind could withstand the onslaught of the Two Heavenly Dragons? Your True Ancestor? Your Queen?"
His eyes glinted. "I possess Annihilation Maker. I can conjure thousands—tens of thousands—of monsters, each as deadly as a High-Class Devil. How many vampires could you muster to stop them?"
He leaned closer. "I hold Dimension Lost. The mist I command could swallow your entire nation—living or dead, nothing escapes. What counter do you have for that?"
"And I have True Longinus—the holy spear that pierces all, even gods. What hope do mere vampires have against its edge?"
He straightened, voice rising. "And that's just the beginning. There are other Sacred Gears. Other powers."
The air trembled with his words, each syllable cracking like thunder. Silence crashed down, heavy and absolute.
Elmenhilde and her servants were pale as corpses, hearts pounding out a funeral march.
He wasn't bluffing. He'd already proven it, just months ago in the chaos of the Underworld. If he turned those powers on the vampires—who could stop him? Who would even try?
Two Heavenly Dragons, a horde of monsters, a devouring mist, a god-killing spear… If all that descended on their world, what hope would be left?
Despair, pure and simple.
"Ah… ahhh…" Elmenhilde's lips moved, but terror had stolen her voice. She trembled, unable to speak.
But Tenra wasn't done.
"You vampires once captured me—tried to make me your 'food,' your slave. I have every reason to seek revenge."
He smiled, slow and cruel. "And here's the best part: I know exactly where you hide. Because I escaped from there myself."
For a moment, he looked every inch the demon lord—dark, merciless, wreathed in malice.
The message was clear: he had the power, the motive, and the knowledge. If he wanted to wipe out the vampires, nothing could stop him.
"No!" Elmenhilde finally broke, voice ragged. The thought of her race's annihilation shattered her composure. She couldn't let it happen. She wouldn't.
"Why not?" Tenra asked, almost gently. "Give me one good reason."
"It was the Tepes faction who wronged you, not us!" she cried, desperate.
Tenra shrugged. "Doesn't matter. You're all vampires. And to be honest, you're not exactly endearing."
He tilted his head. "You know, your attitude just now was insufferable. Treating our companion like a tool—acting high and mighty. I'm this strong and I still try to be humble. What makes you so special?"
He flashed a devil's grin. "Frankly, you annoy me. So I've decided: I'll start my war against vampires with you."
The words hit like a slap. Domineering, absolute.
Regret flooded Elmenhilde. If she brought this calamity upon her people, she'd be remembered as the greatest traitor in vampire history.
"No… please, no…" Tears welled in her eyes, pride stripped away to reveal a terrified girl.
"Why not?" Tenra pressed, voice soft but relentless.
"I've made up my mind, Miss Elmen. Let my crusade begin—with you."
He reached for her, smile wicked.
"Stop!" her attendants cried, fighting against Tenra's oppressive aura, desperate to intervene.
But they were powerless.
Tenra's shadow shot out, split in two, and snaked around the servants, pinning them in place no matter how they struggled.
Elmenhilde squeezed her eyes shut as Tenra's hand hovered closer, finally resting on her forehead. She shuddered, bracing for pain—for the end.
The room froze. Time stretched.
But nothing happened.
After a long moment, Elmenhilde dared to peek. Instead of darkness, she was greeted by Tenra's wide, mischievous grin.
"So, Miss Elmen—did I scare you?"
He let go, laughter booming. "Just messing with you! Relax!"
Azazel burst out laughing. Rias and Sona buried their faces in their hands, exasperated.
They'd seen it coming from the start—Tenra's taste for drama was inexhaustible. Still, watching Elmenhilde's pride crumble into pitiful relief was… satisfying.
"Thank goodness…" Elmenhilde collapsed to the floor, exhaling in shaky relief. Normally, she'd have been furious at being toyed with. This time, all she felt was gratitude to still be alive.
Tenra could have made good on his threat. He'd turned it into a joke—but everyone in the room knew he could have made it real.
"Lady Elmenhilde, are you alright?" her servants asked, rushing to help her up.
"I'm fine. I'm fine," she stammered, straightening her clothes and fighting to regain her composure. But the old arrogance was gone, replaced by humility.
Tenra's smile lingered. "Miss Elmen, tell your Queen this: if she truly seeks peace, we welcome it. But if she tries to use peace as a bargaining chip again, we don't need her at the table."
He waved dismissively. "Let's end this meeting here. I doubt you want to continue, do you?"
Elmenhilde met his eyes, then nodded. "I'll relay your message to Her Majesty."
She wanted nothing more than to leave.
A gust of wind swept through the room—and the vampires were gone.
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