Volume 8, Chapter 3 – If You Max Out Charm…

Night had deepened.

Wearing only a white nightgown, Fia stepped into the dim corridor. She dismissed the maids along the hallway and arrived at the room next door.

The dark brown door, bearing the texture of wood grain, stood before her like the Wall of Sighs that separated the living from the dead. Fia hesitated. Even casting high-rank magic continuously that afternoon on the pitiful undead of the Netherworld hadn’t made her this nervous.

It felt like a trial of life and death.

No. I couldn’t hesitate here. Having chosen this path, I had to cross bravely!

She shouted inwardly, though in reality, what she was about to do wasn’t challenging a deity or opposing the entire world. It was simply explaining to Claire that she had accepted Anastasia’s feelings—or perhaps that Anastasia had accepted hers. Fia didn’t know what passed for common sense in this world, but in her world, telling one’s fiancée that you’d taken another woman would instantly damn you to the moral abyss.

Even knowing this was another world with different norms, when it came time to actually act, she still wavered.

Several deep breaths. Not until the summer heat rose to the soles of her feet did Fia finally steel herself. Lightly, cautiously, she knocked.

“Cl… Claire, it’s me.”

A second of silence from within. Then footsteps, growing closer. Only now did Fia realize the guest room’s soundproofing wasn’t as good as her own chambers. Perhaps this was another reason for Claire to refuse her.

The lock clicked. The door cracked open. Fia habitually lifted her gaze toward the upper gap—but there was only a ceiling. Only then did she remember: Claire’s body now resembled Estelle’s, barely half a head taller than herself. Her gaze shouldn’t drift upward anymore.

It must be that her attention was entirely consumed by how to explain things to Claire. She’d forgotten about Claire’s recent shrinkage.

Come to think of it, had Claire’s body grown even smaller? In that split second of meeting eyes, Fia—with observational and computational abilities that would make even gods despair—rapidly calculated that Claire was indeed shorter than before. Three millimeters. And this measurement accounted for neither hair volume nor slipper height.

In that instant, multiple thoughts flashed through Fia’s mind.

Claire’s body size correlated positively with her mana reserves. More mana meant a more mature figure; less mana meant she grew smaller. The fact that Claire had shrunk slightly since morning meant she had expended mana this afternoon—and a considerable amount at that, enough to physically reduce her size.

Yet Claire had no reason to use magic. If something unusual had occurred at Twilight Palace, Anastasia, who remained there, would have informed her. So why had Claire grown smaller?

No, wait. Could it be that something was happening to Claire too?

Anastasia’s situation had left a considerable shadow on Fia’s mind. She immediately connected this to the possibility that Claire, too, was suffering some adverse transformation. Perhaps Claire was losing mana rapidly even without casting spells, her shrinking body a symptom.

If so, they would need to share a bed every day.

The moment this thought settled, Fia’s mind stiffened. Something felt off.

How had a concern for Claire’s safety transformed into something so provocative?

A single second stretched endlessly yet passed in an instant. By the time Fia had worked through this cascade of bizarre thoughts, Claire’s voice finally came.

“Want to sleep together again?”

“Uh, ah… yes.”

She stammered her assent.

Fia’s gaze drifted back to Claire as the door swung fully open. Claire’s entire form imprinted itself upon Fia’s eyes. She wore only a black gauze nightgown, pleated like an elaborate gown. Her silver hair, cascading like the Milky Way, was braided into a single side plait that rested quietly against her chest, draped over her snow-white shoulder. Despite her fifteen-or-sixteen-year-old figure, she exuded an elegant, gentle grace.

Additionally, perhaps due to moonlight streaming through the window behind her, or perhaps due to Claire’s inherent nature, her luminous skin bore a faint silver sheen—imperceptible upon direct inspection, yet visible from the corner of one’s eye the moment one looked away.

So beautiful.

No matter how she thought about it, meeting Claire in Aurora City had been fortune worthy of saving the universe in a past life.

Claire’s expression held a trace of resignation. She stepped aside slightly to make room for Fia, closed the door, then returned to sit on the edge of the bed. At this late hour, the only sound in the world was moonlight filtering through the floor-length windows.

“I should say this first: sleeping together is fine. But if Little Fia tries to take things further, I’ll lock you up and sneak into your bedroom.”

“Why? It’s not like it’s our first time.”

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“Because Little Fia has no self-control.”

As she spoke, Claire’s face, illuminated by silver moonlight, flushed faintly. Perhaps feeling the silence was too awkward, she rose and walked to the round table.

“Would you like something to drink? You seem troubled.”

“No… I’ve grown somewhat resistant to tea lately.”

“A little alcohol, then? I’m not good with liquor, but fruit wine and wine are fine.”

Even as she spoke inquiring words, Claire was already pouring wine into a glass and handing it to Fia. Clearly, Claire was in good spirits. The gray tail behind her swayed back and forth, drawing Fia’s gaze.

Speaking of which, where exactly was Claire’s tail rooted? Did it emerge from beneath her skirt, or had she cut a hole in the skirt for it to extend through?

A series of questions surfaced in Fia’s mind.

No, no. I should focus on the main issue.

Fia took a light sip of the red wine on the table. Only when a hint of bitterness spread across her tongue did she venture tentatively.

“Claire, have you gotten a bit shorter?”

“Hm?” The hand holding Claire’s wine trembled sharply. Then, with a puzzled expression, “Have I?”

Clearly lying.

Wait, wait. Was something actually wrong? While replenishing Claire’s mana was simple enough, any sign of trouble was concerning.

Claire wasn’t the type to conceal problems. There must be some trick to this.

Fia stole a glance at Claire standing by the table, then took another small sip.

“What was Claire doing this afternoon?”

“Experimenting with some things in the underground laboratory. Little Fia left those eyeballs in the research room, didn’t you? I wanted to test what they are.”

But that couldn’t possibly consume this much mana, could it?

Consider: eleven full years had passed since Claire first gained consciousness. In those eleven years, the total mana Claire had expended had only reduced her body by a small margin. Now, a single day had lowered her height by three millimeters. The consumption was enormous.

Something was definitely off.

Continuing to press the matter likely wouldn’t yield answers. Fia cleared her throat twice and adopted a serious tone.

“Ahem. Claire, I want to show you something.”

“What?”

[Peerless Beauty]

And that wasn’t all. Fia followed immediately with [Art of the Sage], amplifying [Peerless Beauty] through wordless incantation. Both spells were reinforced by [Hyper-computation].

After casting the two spells, Fia tensed her entire body and fixed her gaze on Claire as if facing a great enemy.

After returning that afternoon, Fia had learned [Art of the Sage]—a faith-type magic—from Anastasia. She had also tested the [Art of the Sage]-enhanced [Peerless Beauty] on Anastasia and others. The results were excellent. Ordinarily, [Peerless Beauty] increased one’s charm, causing those nearby to behave like cats who’d eaten catnip—dazed, pressing against one affectionately. Some would writhe and crawl on the floor, making strange sounds.

When amplified by [Art of the Sage], [Peerless Beauty]’s effects multiplied exponentially. Those affected would obey her every word. If Fia had to describe it, she could only think of puppies—out of deep affection, they would submit to her completely.

Of course, there were exceptions. Testing on Erin Slate, for instance: while Erin became dependent on Fia, she wasn’t obedient. Instead, overwhelming love drove her to act wildly, persisting even when Fia told her to stop. Touching forbidden places, attempting to remove clothing.

In summary, it was a reliable spell, thoroughly tested.

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“Mmn…”

With remarkable speed, the clarity in Claire’s eyes lost focus. She turned her head blankly, and the wine glass in her hand tilted toward the carpet—but Fia caught it preemptively with [Spatial Hand], avoiding any disturbance that might startle Claire awake.

It actually worked…

Surprise and delight rose to Fia’s cheeks. She had expected the spell to fail again, which would have confirmed that magic of this world simply didn’t work on Claire. Now it seemed Claire’s high rank had merely been granting her immunity to ordinary spells.

Still, the unfocused eyes felt rather like hypnosis.

Well, time to test it.

There remained the possibility that Claire was pretending to be controlled. To avoid embarrassment, Fia adopted a casual tone.

“What am I to you?”

“Wife.”

“Pfft.”

If she hadn’t only taken a small sip, Fia would have sprayed wine across the table. In all the years she’d known Claire, Claire had never said anything so direct.

Surely the answer should have been “fiancée,” not this blunt term! Did Claire really have such boldness?!

But Claire’s eyebrows and tail hadn’t so much as twitched. It seemed safe to assume Claire wasn’t deliberately playing along—the pendant incident had taught Fia a memorable lesson.

Just to be certain, she’d confirm once more.

“Come here. Sit.”

Sitting sideways on the chair, Fia lifted her white nightgown slightly, then patted her thigh cheerfully.

Still no trace of shyness from Claire. She walked over stiffly, then sat stiffly on Fia’s lap.

The weight settled upon her—just right. Claire’s body was exceptionally soft. In an instant, Fia’s thoughts wandered. She directed Claire to sit sideways on her lap, positioning them so they could easily face each other, arms encircling.

This closeness. This complete obedience. It carried such a strong sense of transgression…

Not good.

Fia screamed inwardly. She lifted Claire’s silver braid to her nose and inhaled. The scent of vanilla rushed straight to her brain. Combined with the faint medicinal fragrance drifting from Claire’s neck, her already wandering thoughts had completely turned pink.

Alright. Time to sweep Little Claire into bed and thoroughly examine her youthful body from head to toe!

The little demon Dofilia within Fia roared its approval. But angel Dofilia hadn’t forgotten the real matter. Suppressing her now-smoldering feelings, Fia wrapped an arm around Claire’s slender waist, cautiously extended her tongue, and licked Claire’s bare shoulder, exposed above her nightgown.

—There should have been no taste at all. Yet she seemed to perceive a faint sweetness. Was silky milk fragrance an apt comparison?

She squeezed the gray tail behind Claire. It was warm, slightly firm, and textured. Recalling her earlier curiosity, she tilted her head to look at Claire’s back and discreetly lifted the hem of Claire’s nightgown.

Ah. The tail grew from her posterior, emerging above her underwear. The kind that lifted the skirt.

Somehow this felt very erotic.

No, no. I need to discuss the main matter. I couldn’t let beauty distract me.

“What did Claire hide from me just now?”

“I… I didn’t hide anything.”

Hah?

That flustered, hesitant answer almost made Fia shove Claire away. If Claire realized she’d been placed under mental magic, the embarrassment would be unbearable.

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She quickly looked at Claire’s eyes. Still unfocused. Though her face showed shyness, it seemed more instinctive.

Shy enough to instinctively resist even in this compliant state?

What secret was this?

Fia gently stroked Claire’s waist with her thumb, frowning in thought.

“Then what did Claire do in the magic laboratory this afternoon? Answer me. This is an order.”

“I consumed mana.”

Claire answered without emotion.

“Consumed mana? That was the goal?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you consume mana?”

“To make my body smaller.”

“Ah?”

A string of question marks floated above Fia’s head. She had expected Claire to say she was researching why her body shrank. She never imagined the goal itself was to become smaller.

Claire was shy about her smaller body when sharing a bed. Why would she deliberately shrink herself? Fia couldn’t understand. The question naturally slipped out.

“Well… that’s because… Master always looked so excited when I became smaller. So I thought I could take this opportunity to shrink and fulfill Master’s wish. Not being able to sleep together was because I would have given up halfway. Ana said Master’s birthday is approaching.”

“Eh?”

Her wandering thoughts vanished instantly. Fia was struck dumb.

Have I done something terribly insensitive?

The reason Claire had kept her at arm’s length these past few days was simply to make herself even smaller.

Just how deeply did Claire spoil me?

Guilt welled up. Fia wanted to release the spell immediately, to restore Claire to her previous position. But before she could dismiss it, she felt Claire’s body shift on her lap. Then an icy, piercing cold clamped tightly around her neck. The bright moonlight in the room dimmed.

Fia vision is filled with Claire’s magnified, devastatingly beautiful face.

Claire had awakened.

And her normally expressionless face was flushed crimson, like a fully ripened apple. She was staring at Fia, cheeks puffed with anger.

Not good.

This was the face of mortification turned to rage.

Claire’s hands gripped Fia’s neck, her glare fierce. Fia felt as though she’d plunged into frozen depths. Even though Claire wasn’t applying pressure, Fia’s voice stammered. Her gaze darted guiltily, unable to meet Claire’s eyes.

“Well… Claire, I… I was just worried about you…”

“Just·worried·about·me?”

Each word ground through clenched teeth.

Never mind Fia making Claire address her as Master. First, she had lifted Claire’s skirt and inspected her tail. That alone had pushed Claire to the brink of humiliation.

And then exposing the secret Claire had deliberately hidden—the wish to make herself smaller, to please Fia.

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“It seems a little discipline is in order. You’ve forgotten who the older sister is here.”

The moment Claire finished speaking, Fia felt herself lifted. The world spun. She landed heavily on the bed, bouncing several times. By the time she regained her bearings, Claire had already pinned both of Fia’s wrists to the headboard with one hand, pressed the other against Fia’s chest, and seated herself firmly on Fia’s thighs.

Her expression remained that same furious blush.

I’m done for.

This extremely passive position, combined with the towering flames of Claire’s wrath, told Fia the situation was dire. She hadn’t yet mastered any magic suitable for countering Claire. If Claire used her full strength, Fia would be in serious trouble. Worse, Claire’s magic scaled with emotional intensity. Right now, that intensity was surely off the charts.

Cold sweat beaded on her back. Fia plastered on a professional fake smile and stammered a defense.

“I-I came to explain about Anastasia…”

“Bringing up another woman in front of your fiancée? Little Fia grows bolder by the day. I’ll speak with Ana myself. But right now, Little Fia must face the consequences of her actions!”

In an instant, Fia found her nightgown gone. Only her pale undergarments tenaciously guarded her youthful form.

There was no escape today!

Both little demon Dofilia and angel Dofilia huddled within Fia, trembling and weeping.

The chill of skin meeting air tightened her body further. Her voice acquired a tremulous, pleading quality.

“Th-then… can you be gentle at least…?”

“No·can’t·do! Unless Little Fia calls me Master and begs for mercy, I’ll write my name backwards!”

Invisible wind swept through the room. The curtains snapped shut with a sharp pull. Then, two dark, supple silhouettes intertwined. Muffled sounds and hot, satisfied breaths mingled with the summer night’s oppressive heat, echoing and rising within the chamber.

◇

A gray hall, deathly still, faintly tinged with the odor of decay.

This was the kingdom of the dead. The residence of the Queen of the Kingdom of Death.

Something momentous had occurred. The gray hall bustled with activity. Nightmare knights and archmages of the dead hurried everywhere, directing lesser undead to and fro. Countless blue ghosts, capable of passing through walls, facilitated communication.

“Her Highness the Princess says to search further north!”

“Third sector, seventh mark and ninth mark!”

“The fourth sector, first through seventh marks—attacked by unknown entities days ago.”

“Wandering spirits there were already dead. Her Highness says the priority is finding Her Majesty the Queen!”

“Look over there! It’s… it’s Her Majesty! Her Majesty has returned!”

The moment the cry rang out, every frantic nightmare knight and archmage of the dead turned toward the hall’s entrance. There, a pink-haired figure—a mature woman who seemed almost corporeal—approached step by step. Though the maiden radiated not a trace of death, every undead in sight knelt prostrate. Not one dared raise their head. In that instant, throughout the entire plaza and hall, only this pink-haired woman remained standing.

Yet the pink-haired woman showed no reaction whatsoever. She simply produced a gray veil and cloak from her storage space, donned them until she was attired like a gray bride, then continued along the broad avenue the undead had cleared for her, ascending step by step toward the gray palace atop its tiered dais.

“Find me someone named Dofilia—alive.”

Her quiet voice echoed through the realm of the dead. Every undead received the command. They answered not with words, but by melting into the air, one after another. Within mere breaths, all had vanished from the pink-haired woman’s sight.

She halted, shaking her head beneath the veil.

“Haah. For me, this is a good thing—but creating a living body for the Queen of Death? That’s way too reckless… Those lot are definitely going to raise Hell.”

Leaving behind this cryptic remark, Venex—now bearing the bestowed name Lucitine —proceeded slowly into the gray hall.