Heart Devil [OP Yandere Schizo Ramble LitRPG XD]

The audience chamber loomed ahead, cavernous and dark like the maw of something that had learned patience. A gate of silent promises, dark promises, though, the trio failed to sense it.

Dozeuff yawned. "This whole trip's been a mistake. We could've still been at the Pleasure Palace…"

"Don't remind me," Showeuff said, dragging a hand down his face. "That lavender tub. That succubus flute trio. The palace master's wife…"

Suziana cleared her throat pointedly.

They fell silent.

The heavy chamber doors opened with groaning menace, revealing the throne hall.

It was cooler than they remembered. Clean. Seemingly more brutal.

At the far end, seated on a throne of stone and steel, was Baku.

Still bald. Still built like a collapsed mountain. Still dressed like a man moments from punching you, even while smiling. But somehow different, sharper, more…coherent.

But it was not him that first drew their eyes.

Beside the throne, resting within a veiled sedan, was a second figure. Feminine. Composed.

Her form obscured behind sheer silk panels dyed in red mist patterns. Delicate incense coiled from small burners at each corner of the sedan, masking her in a dreamlike haze.

Not a servant.

Not decoration.

Someone seated beside the lord of the fortress.

Suziana's smile didn't break, but her grip on her parasol tightened. "Who's the ghost in the box, Baku?" A casual address, like masters calling out to their servant.

Baku didn't rise.

He didn't even greet them.

He grinned.

He said with theatrical mockery. "I assume you're here because you remembered you had responsibilities?"

Showeuff sneered. "We were assigned to meet with you six months ago."

"And got distracted somewhere between duty and debauchery," Baku said. "Very devilish of you." He sneered back.

The reply hit them like a gale; since when did this senile old man have the audacity?

Suziana's eyes flicked to the veiled sedan. "We weren't told you'd taken a consort."

Baku's grin widened.

"I haven't."

Silence.

The figure in the sedan didn't move.

Didn't speak.

Didn't need to.

Something about her presence whispered an air of danger and confidence. The kind that made your instincts itch even when your pride refused to listen.

Showeuff clicked his tongue. "You keep pets now, Baku?"

Baku rose, just slightly.

His shadow seemed to double in size.

"No," he said calmly. "But if I did… you'd be on a leash, little ant."

The room held its breath. Something felt unnatural about the current situation. Why was a weakened old devil taking the piss with them?

And the veiled figure, still silent, tilted her head.

Behind the misted curtain, Hannya watched them like insects on a dinner plate.

And smiled.

Baku's grin flattened. He leaned forward on his throne, resting one thick arm on his knee.

"Let's talk business," he said, tone abruptly cool. "Where are the weapons and armor I ordered?"

Showeuff stretched his arms behind his head with a lazy, almost theatrical sigh. "Yeah… about that."

He paused, then scratched behind one horn. "We sorta… killed the caravan."

Baku stared.

"You what?"

"Killed the caravan. Months ago. The lead merchant looked at me funny." He shrugged, like that was a perfectly reasonable explanation. "And we were drunk. And the horses were slow. And Dozeuff said he was hungry."

"I thought the cart was talking," Dozeuff murmured from the side. "Turned out it wasn't."

Suziana rolled her eyes. "Idiots. We'll charge half the next shipment." She said 'diplomatically'.

Baku didn't move.

Didn't raise his voice.

Didn't scowl.

He just spoke. Sending these fools, for whatever reason, was an absolute joke.

"I'm tripling the cost of Dream Cores."

All three nobles blinked.

Showeuff straightened. "Hold on, what?"

"You heard me," Baku said, scratching the side of his neck like he'd just announced a menu change. "Your factions will now pay three times the market rate for any further shipments. In coin, trade, or favors. Preferably all three." He shrugged.

"That's insane," Suziana hissed. "You can't just-"

"I can," Baku interrupted. "And I will." He grinned.

Dozeuff finally looked alert. "You need our supplies. Without our arms, you're just a rock with some sword junkies living on it."

"Try us," Showeuff added, his smile tight. "Cut off the supply lines. See how long your rebellion fantasy lasts."

Baku gave them all a pitying look.

"Ah. I see the confusion."

He leaned back. "You think we're still dependent on you."

Suziana narrowed her eyes. "And you think you're not?"

"I made a deal," Baku said, voice dropping an octave. "With Gula. Queen of Feasts. Lady of the Hundred Hungers."

Silence dropped like an axe.

Even Dozeuff paled a shade.

"You allied with that deviant?" Suziana snapped.

"She was more polite than you three," Baku replied. "And she never once threatened or killed my people. She simply asked, 'What can I eat?' I said, 'Anything but my soldiers.' We got along just fine, actually, a shame we hadn't spoken sooner."

Suziana's lip curled. "Disgusting. You've fallen far."

"On the contrary," Baku said. "I've risen high enough that you're the ones standing in shadow."

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

That was the final straw.

Suziana's smile vanished.

Her parasol snapped closed with a loud click, and she stepped forward.

"You would dare posture to us? You're a bald mountain rat with no pedigree, no banner, and a sword that's three centuries out of style!"

She raised her voice now, venom slipping into every syllable.

"You were given this fortress as a pity token. A courtesy. And now you act as if you are some king, as if you are owed something! Know your place, Baku!"

The moment echoed off the walls.

No knights moved.

No blades drew.

But tension sang like a taut wire.

And then.

From the veiled sedan.

A soft sound.

"Kikikikiki."

A chuckle.

Light, airy, musical, and somewhat wrong.

Suziana blinked.

The voice that followed was quiet, yet it carried across the hall like a breeze that knew one's name.

"You're the one that should know her place… lowborn."

The veil shifted as Hannya leaned forward, just slightly. Enough for the hint of a smile to become visible through the misted curtain.

And in that moment, Suziana, for the first time in decades, felt something curious. An almost foreign feeling.

Fear.

The silence hung heavy, sticky with tension and pride.

Suziana's parasol trembled slightly in her hand, not from weakness, but from the pressure crawling over her skin like wet velvet laced with thorns. She could feel it.

The room was saturated, submerged in charm laws, and it wasn't hers.

It radiated from behind the silk-draped sadan beside Baku's throne.

From her.

Another Luxuria devil.

But stronger. Hungrier. Terrifyingly still yet rippling through the space.

"…Hannya," Baku said lazily, leaning back on his throne. "You've been quiet. Thought you might be asleep in there."

"Kikiki, I was considering it." came the voice from behind the veil.

Smooth. Musical. And coated with ridicule like sugar draped on poison.

"But the stench of cheap blood and empty threats woke me up."

Dozeuff blinked. "What, did she just-?"

"Yes," Hannya said before he could finish. "I called you stinky. And stupid. If we're using your vocabulary range… Kikiki, pauper."

Showeuff stepped forward, fists clenched. "Listen here, brat. You've got no idea who you're talking to-"

"Oh, I do," Hannya interrupted. "You're the idiot who killed his own supply caravan. And then showed up late without a caravan, demanding trade terms like a lordling who's never negotiated outside of his whorehouse's wine menu."

She tilted her head behind the veil. The silken fabric fluttered ever so slightly with the shift of mana.

"You're a cautionary tale with legs."

Baku chuckled, not bothering to hide it.

The pure disdain and ridicule.

Suziana's jaw clenched. "We represent the Pleasure Faction, the Pride Faction, the Dream Faction. The Capital. You think you can treat us like common thugs?"

"I've seen common thugs with better hygiene and negotiation skills," Hannya said. "At least they show up on time. And don't reek of bathhouses, blood, and failure."

Dozeuff's eye twitched. "You have no authority to raise Dream Core prices-"

"I have the authority," she said. "Because I decided we do. And Baku here didn't disagree."

"She's not wrong," Baku added, grinning. "I stopped checking her math two months ago. She scared the last accountant into a stunned sleep."

Hannya shifted slightly, her veil darkening just enough to silhouette her smile.

"We're tripling the rates. Quadrupling if you keep whining. Oh, and I've raised your border tariff retroactively. Two months' interest. Already deducted from your accounts. We have expenses, you know."

Showeuff's mouth fell open. "That's extortion!"

"No," Hannya said sweetly. "That's business, little devil. Extortion would be me threatening to feed you to the dream beasts for boring me."

Suziana took a shaky breath, trying to steel her pride. "You think you're untouchable. You're not. We can cut you off. You need us."

"Kikiki No, dear." Hannya purred. "We needed you six months ago, maybe? Since then? We've got Gula's caravans now. Queen of Feasts sends whole herds through the pass, padded, flavored, and on wheels."

"Mm-hmm," Baku confirmed. "I got fond of roasted magical beast. She sends it seasoned."

"You disgusting traitor-!"

"I prefer the term 'opportunist,'" Baku replied. "Less self-righteous. More accurate."

Suziana slammed her parasol against the floor. "You have no idea what you're starting! You think this place will survive without capital approval?!"

A low, amused laugh drifted from the veil.

Then, Hannya's voice. Flat, sharp, slow.

"No. You have no idea what's already started."

The room chilled.

"I've replaced your spies. I've rerouted your shipments. I've buried your leverage. Your blood pressure is the only thing of value you've brought up this mountain."

"Watch your mouth, hornless devil!" Showeuff growled.

"Why?" Hannya said, silk in her tone. "It isn't like you've found your spine yet…. Horned human kikiki!"

"Kahuhuhuhu!" Baku couldn't hold back, loud and senile! A horned human was a new one to him.

Suziana stepped forward at last, her blood boiling, her charm aura igniting in a defensive reaction. But immediately, she felt it, her blood reacting, shrinking, folding in on itself as Hannya's pressure blanketed it, smooth as velvet but heavier than lead shame.

"You're Luxuria…" she whispered. "But this density..."

"You should sit down before you embarrass yourself further," Hannya said.

"Who even are you?!" Suziana shouted. "Some peasant nomad playing noble? Some little mask with Baku's blessing?"

"I'm Hannya. 6th Luxuria. Your better." she said.

Not a shout. Not a roar.

Just cold certainty.

"Baku's heir. The one who cut down your spies before they could blink. The one behind the rise of Hazy Mountain's silence. And if you ever speak to me like that again…"

The veil fluttered as if caught by unseen wind.

"…you'll be the next thing buried in that silence."

Showeuff stepped forward.

Too fast.

Too loud.

His devil blood flared in a crude attempt at dominance, crackling like cheap fireworks as he extended one hand and summoned a jagged obsidian blade from his ring. The sound of it unsheathing echoed with hungry malice.

"You think this is over? You think you can insult me, Showeuff the 5th Superbia, the second son of the Crimson Chaos House, and get away with it?"

Baku didn't even blink.

But Hannya, behind the veil, let out a long, bored sigh.

"Oh no," she said. "He's doing the speech."

Showeuff bared his fangs. "I've razed towns for less, you little cloaked goblin. You want war? You want to play noble? Then kneel and beg before I-"

"Enough."

One word.

Spoken softly, but something changed.

The room trembled, not from force, but from presence.

Hannya slowly rose from her seated position. The silk veil drifted like smoke, but her mana was anything but soft now. It coiled like a serpent of incense and thunder, wrapping through the chamber with intoxicating menace.

"I was trying to be polite," she said. "I let you bark. I let you brag. But I grow tired of empty noise."

Showeuff grit his teeth, taking a step forward-

Then she spoke.

And this time, it wasn't just her voice.

It was her will.

A fusion of charm law, chi, and royal bearing that punched through the air like divine thunder wrapped in velvet.

Her tone sank into his bones, into the hollow of his lungs.

"Kneel."

The word entered him.

Burrowed into him.

Ate through him.

Not just through his ears, but through his blood, his marrow, his chi. It invaded like a parasite of authority. His muscles buckled. His breath hitched. His magic recoiled like a scalded hound.

And before he realized what was happening-

His knees hit the stone.

The obsidian blade clattered beside him.

His hands trembled as if gripped by unseen chains, and all he could do was glare upward, sweat pouring down his face, teeth clenched in primal disbelief.

Behind the veil, Hannya tilted her head.

"There now," she whispered, her voice honeyed. "You look almost dignified down there…almost."

Suziana flinched.

Dozeuff took a slow step back, eyes wide and glazed with fear.

Even Baku raised an eyebrow and muttered under his breath, "That's new." It wasn't the barreling shout like in the past that broke through mana; her chi and mana were eating away at the devil's core of energy.

Infecting it.

Consuming it until her own sat in its place.

Hannya turned toward the other two, veil swaying like a ghost's smirk.

"Anyone else need help remembering their manners?"

No one answered.

Only the wind outside dared to move.

~~~

The stone doors of the audience chamber slammed shut behind them, and the nobles stalked through the empty city streets in silence.

Even the Dream Knights that escorted them offered no parting glances, only the cold clink of armor and the soft thud of footsteps fading into mist.

Suziana's fingernails dug into her palm.

"How dare she…" she hissed under her breath, violet eyes burning. "That upstart. That thing."

Showeuff limped slightly, pride dragging heavier than his bruised knees. "I'm going to kill her," he muttered. "Rip that veil off and burn her face into the floor-"

"You'll do nothing," Suziana snapped. "You let her speak a word, and you knelt like a servant."

He turned on her, growling, but Dozeuff raised a lazy hand between them.

"Enough. Let's not air our bruises in the street."

He yawned, as if unaffected, but his eyes had been wide for some time. Wide, and glassy, and lost in a memory.

A fleeting glance.

A crack in the veil's angle. A sliver of silk parted just long enough for him to catch sight of the girl seated beside Baku.

Hannya.

Beautiful in a way that devils rarely were. Youthful, but coiled with unseen power. Her expression unreadable, poised, and cool, but her eyes... they weren't calm.

They were hungry.

Dozeuff licked his lips.

Later, in the inn Baku had "so generously" assigned them, an old stone guest hall on the edge of the village, they gathered in the candlelit parlor, heads low, voices sharp.

"They're planning something," Suziana muttered. "Those knights, Baku, that girl, everything about that fortress feels... twisted."

"They haven't reported in for months," Showeuff said, pacing. "Those lazy drunkards we left here vanished. Spies don't go quiet unless they're dead or turned."

Dozeuff sat back, fingers thrumming.

"Maybe we turn the table."

Suziana and Showeuff both glanced at him.

"I got a good look at her," he said, tapping the side of his head. "She's young. Unmarked. Probably not even a decade out of her egg."

Showeuff grunted. "So?"

"So she's not untouchable," Dozeuff replied smoothly. "Whatever Baku's hiding, it centers on her. She's a lever. We put pressure on her, force her to show weakness, and we find the cracks in this fortress."

Suziana narrowed her eyes.

"You saw her magic. Her will. You think we can just walk in and scare her?"

Dozeuff smiled, the kind of smile that never reached the eyes, as a heat surged somewhere unnerving.

"Not scare. Remind. She may speak like a ruler, but she's still just one devil. We're nobles. With resources. Shadows. Allies."

He leaned forward, eyes gleaming with something darker.

"I say we teach them both a lesson."

There was silence.

Then Showeuff nodded grimly, knuckles cracking.

Suziana didn't speak, but her face was tight with unresolved shame. The pressure of facing another Luxuria devil stronger than her, like standing again before her grandmother, the 4th Luxuria, whose mere presence had once made her feel like a trembling candle near a star.

She hated that feeling.

And now, that girl made her feel it again.

"I want that veil burned," Suziana said coldly.

"Then we move," Dozeuff replied. "Tonight. Quiet. Subtle. Just enough to make them bleed."

They didn't know it yet.

But Hannya was already waiting.

Expecting.