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Chapter 1344 - Precious Moments

Resisting the urge to tear up again, Illya sniffled a few times before ultimately bowing her head low and saying, "I’m sorry..." before immediately following it with a, "Thank you...". This resulted in smiles all around and, though she was somewhat resistant to the idea, Illya ended up accepting hugs from nearly everyone present. Even Arcueid had taken a turn, concern visible in her countenance as, better than most, she knew how loneliness could eat away at both the heart and mind...

As it was her first time meeting Arcueid, Illya couldn’t help but eye the woman’s bust after being held against it for several seconds. They were even bigger than her mother’s, making Arcueid a contender for the largest bust amongst the various women associated with Vahn. The only others who came close were Scáthach, Semiramis, and, though this was her first time meeting the fiery red-head, Aoko...

Though she tried not to let it bother her, Illya couldn’t help but notice the number of busy women around Vahn had increased during the time she was incubating. Her own had grown a fair amount, at least compared to her past self, but she was a very long way from having a mature figure. While Vahn didn’t seem to care about such things, at least on the surface, Illya suspected he was actually he had a fondness for buxom and mature women. Fortunately, while she may not exactly fit that category, everyone knew of his preference for girls with ’unique’ traits so, in that regard, she had a big advantage over the competition...

While these thoughts were going through her mind, Illya returned the hugs of everyone in turn, periodically looking over at Vahn smiling at the side. She felt like they had a lot to talk about but, more than anything else, she wanted him to know how she felt. Thus, when the crowd began to thin out, she sheepishly approached him, her face growing progressively redder with each step. By the time she was standing in front of him, her face was as red as a tomato, her fingers clutching the hem of her dress as she muttered in a quiet voice, "I...I love you...I don’t think I ever said this out loud so I wanted you to hear it..."

Hearing Illya’s quiet confession, Vahn’s expression melted, his arms moving on instinct to pull her into his embrace as he answered, "Thank you, Illya...thank you for choosing me...I love you too, more than you might think, more than I can ever express in words..."

As Vahn had lifted her off the ground, Illya’s legs dangled a few centimeters off the floor as his warm embrace made the feeling in her chest expand rapidly. She had been doing her best to keep another round of tears from flowing but, when it was Vahn comforting her, Illya felt like she had no resistance whatsoever. Against her will, tears began pouring out from her eyes and, though the presence of the others made her feel a little ashamed, she couldn’t help but cry in his arms...

---

Though it took a while for things to settle down, Vahn ultimately ended up retiring to Illya’s room to have a very long talk with her and Iris. At the same time, he had Artoria and Gray accompany him to their shared chambers while Fenrir and the others helped Arcueid to get situated. It had been a very long night but, with the time dilation of the Projection, night had yet to give way to the rising of the sun. There were still more than twenty hours left until a new day began in the outside world, time Vahn had decided to use for relaxation and reflection.

It felt like he had been having sex for several days straight so, after retreating to his room, Vahn used Artoria’s soft thighs as a pillow, letting the tensions of his body melt away. These types of moments were a favorite of Artoria so, rather than offer any complaints about the arrangement, she dutifully stroked his head with an affectionate smile on her face. If she had any complaints at all, it would be that Gray was using Vahn’s body as a pillow, an enviable position to be in...

Unfortunately, as much as he just wanted to shut off his brain, Vahn had a lot of things on his mind. As a result, he ended up dispersing the warm atmosphere, lazily muttering, "We need to be better...I need to be better. This mess may not be my design but it was set in motion as a consequence of my actions. Seizing control in the wake of the destruction is irresponsible and cowardly...this transition is something we can influence directly...something we must treat seriously, not as a matter of course that will resolve itself in due time..."

As his words coincided with her views on the matter, Artoria nodded her head in approval, even as her hand continued to gently stroke Vahn’s head. She knew he was extremely fatigued by the recent events so, even if she felt compelled to act on his words, taking care of Vahn was a higher priority at the moment. This was a sentiment shared by Gray who, after hearing Vahn’s words, moved so that she was nestled up against him, effectively preventing him from leaving the room.

Vahn could easily deduce the intentions of the two women but, from the very beginning, he had no intention of taking action right now. The only thing that could compel him to move was an Empire-threatening emergency but, with Heracles acting as Warden, the odds of an enemy breaking through their multi-layered defenses were slim...

Since there would be plenty of time to act after the dawn of a new day, Vahn cherished this peaceful moment. In one room, he was enjoying a lap pillow while snuggling against Gray while, in the other, a similar scene played out between him, Illya, and Iris. They were all seated on the same couch, Illya curled up in his lap and Iris leaning against his shoulder as she gently stroked her daughter’s hair. It was a truly peaceful moment, the type that Vahn would cherish more than any treasure, a memory that would stick with him into perpetuity...

---

A stark contrast to the serenity experienced by Vahn, one particular Vampiric Princess was having anything but a good evening. Rather, after the expulsion of Crimson Moon from Arcueid’s Ego, her elder sister, the Dead Apostle Ancestor known as Altrouge Brunestud, experienced a painful and maddening backlash. Crimson blood had violently erupted from her body as a phenomenal amount of power, completely beyond her ability to control, swelled up inside of her.

While this increase in power wasn’t exactly a bad thing, Altrouge’s inability to control it resulted in her body literally exploding and regenerating hundreds of times over the course of a few hours. It was enough to drive anyone crazy but, having lost her mind hundreds of years ago, Altrouge could be heard laughing in the brief moments where she was able to reform. She knew this power was the result of ’something’ happening to her little sister so, while it was immensely painful, she would now become one of, if not ’the’, strongest beings in the world.

As this cycle of destruction and rebirth was occurring, two figures watched on in solemn vigil as their master repeatedly self-destructed. These were Altrouge’s bodyguards, some of the oldest and most powerful Dead Apostles in existence.

Among the two, the one that stood out the most was a man with pale skin, raven-black hair parted in a high widow’s peak, and blood-red eyes. He radiated a regal aura about himself and, unlike how many Dead Apostles had adapted to the times, he elected to wear vicious-looking black armor at all times. The chest plate formed the visage of a demon while, protruding from various points on the armor, several blood-encrusted spikes could be seen. Most notable of all was the large greatsword that seemed to be fused with his arm, it’s handled twisting like tendrils of pure darkness as the blade glowed with a malicious red light...

Though he didn’t stand out nearly as much as his counterpart, the Black Knight, Rizo-Waal Strout, he still radiated a regal and intimidating visage. His moniker, the White Knight, Fina-Blood Svelten, was not just a title given arbitrarily. He was one of the most powerful Dead Apostles and, as his maritime attire made apparent, he was the Captain of the Undead Fleet, a Reality Marble known as the Grand Parade. It allowed him to manifest an entire fleet of Ghost Ships, headed by his flagship, a massive schooner known as the Herald of the Dead.

Matching his counterpart, Fina-Blood Svelten had pale skin but, a stark contrast to the man known as the Black Knight, his hair was platinum blond. Rather than vicious, he had an appearance that, at a glance, would be described as handsome by most. Unfortunately, this illusion would fade quickly the moment you made eye contact with him as, without hiding it in the slightest, absolute madness and an insatiable lust for the suffering of others could be seen in his gaze. This was the last thing many a young boy saw as, much like other Dead Apostles, he had a preference when it came to choosing his targets, considering anyone over the age of ten to be ’spoiled’ goods...

Now, as their Master laughed madly in her suffering, Fina-Blood Svelten couldn’t hide the glee in his smile as he, alongside Rizo-Waal Strout, understood what was happening. It was something they had desired for centuries and, once their Master managed to get her volatile power under control, they were certain that the prophesied Crimson Moon Century would begin, an era where Dead Apostles would replace True Ancestors as the heralds of mankind, their livestock.

What neither man suspected, as even Altrouge herself was unaware of the truth, the Crimson Moon Century was fated to never come. Rather, as a result of Vahn’s command, Altrouge would be unable to use any of Crimson Moon’s power if it would lead to the direct suffering of others. To exacerbate matters, a missive from the Dead Apostle known as ’Rose Prophecy’ was already on its way, warning of the duo’s coming demise...

---

Far from the location of Altrouge’s manifestation of the Millenium Castle, what appeared to be a young female scholar, complete with a pixie-cut and large circular glasses released a tired sigh. Her ruby-red eyes seemed to have lost their light but, rather than emptiness, anyone gazing into them would feel as if they were being sucked into a completely different world...

After removing her glasses and running her fingers through her hazelnut hair a few times, the young woman looked towards a large grandfather clock. Unlike normal clocks, however, it didn’t track time in a linear fashion. Rather, it always displayed the time of a person’s death, influenced by her ability to see the flow and severance of fate.

Currently, the woman was going through the list of her fellow Dead Apostle Ancestors for what felt like the thousandth time, a melancholic look visible upon her face. In the past, her ability has been a tremendous boon to her kind as, without exception, her prophecies would prove accurate. Now, as if to mock her past self, the hands of the clock were constantly in motion and, rather than a confirmed date and time, the values jumped all over the place. The only thing she knew for certain was that, at some point in the near future, most of them were going to die...

(A/N: Alternate Titles: ’It is important to say how you feel...’,’Even the mightiest of Emperors needs to rest...’,’What a series of unfortunate events...I kind of feel sorry for the Rose Prophecy (UwU)...’)

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