CHAPTER 332: ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Sarushima Souichiro.

A man who had stood as an enemy to both Yuuna and Kouhei.

A man Kouhei had already fought—and won against.

It was already surprising enough that Kouhei hadn’t ended up killing him during that brutal faction war, but seeing him here now... pouting of all things... almost like some sulking kid waiting for his turn to speak—it was bizarre.

What made it even stranger was that he seemed to have been waiting specifically for them.

And when they approached, he actually greeted them with something that almost resembled respect.

Yuuna narrowed her eyes. "Why are you the one here, Souichiro?" she asked sharply, her voice dripping with suspicion.

"What? Can’t I wait for the important guest my father’s been expecting?" Souichiro shot back, glaring right back at her without hesitation.

Yuuna felt her brows knit together. This was strange—no, this was wrong. Souichiro wasn’t acting like himself at all. He wasn’t being arrogant, petty, or smug—he was... acting normal. Actually normal.

In all the years she’d lived alongside him, she had never seen him like this. Not once. And now, out of nowhere, here he was—calm, composed, and almost civil.

"N-Now then... K-Kouhei-sama, if you would please follow me."

Yuuna’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. Souichiro—Sarushima Souichiro—using an honorific? On someone else? She immediately turned her head toward Kouhei, and he looked just as stunned as she felt, his eyes slightly widened.

Still, neither of them said anything. For now, they decided to just let it go and followed Souichiro toward the mansion.

The place was massive, towering above them like an ancient fortress of power. Its gates alone looked like they could withstand a siege, and every stone screamed wealth and authority.

Soldiers lined the grounds, their armor polished and weapons gleaming, each one standing at perfect attention as the trio passed. But their eyes—those eyes—never left Kouhei and Yuuna.

Kouhei felt it almost immediately. That oppressive weight of a hundred glares, sharp and cutting, pressing down on him like invisible blades against his neck. It was suffocating. These weren’t just idle glances—this was the silent, unspoken hostility of warriors trained to kill.

Eventually, they reached the entrance and stepped inside.

A perfectly arranged line of maids awaited them, their uniforms spotless, and their posture flawless.

As soon as Kouhei and Yuuna crossed the threshold, every single maid bowed deeply in perfect synchronization, voices echoing together like a well-rehearsed chorus.

"Good travels for coming here, Yuuna-sama, Kouhei-sama."

The sight made Kouhei’s stomach knot for a second. Dozens of heads bowing at once—it was overwhelming, suffocating in its own way. But he kept his composure and continued walking.

Souichiro led them through the hall, eventually stopping in front of a massive set of double doors. They were intricately carved and reinforced, the kind of doors that told you whatever lay beyond them was important. Kouhei could only assume this was the throne room—or something equally significant.

Souichiro raised his hand and knocked three times.

The deep, hollow sound echoed for a moment before the doors swung open simultaneously with a smooth, almost ominous grace.

The first thing Kouhei saw was the grand hall—vaulted ceilings, marble floors, and golden light spilling down from chandeliers. It wasn’t just a room—it was a statement of power.

Souichiro stepped inside without pause, Yuuna followed right after, and Kouhei brought up the rear.

They walked the length of the hall, the sound of their footsteps sharp against the floor, until they finally stood before the man at its center.

He didn’t need a crown to look like a king. His very presence screamed authority. Kouhei didn’t have to ask—he already knew.

This was Sarushima Kazuhiro.

Yuuna and Souichiro’s father. The current head of the noble vampire family—the Sarushima Clan.

His eyes were blood-red. Not the dull red of a common vampire, but a sharp, vivid crimson that seemed to burn in the light. And the aura rolling off him was suffocating, heavy with menace and confidence.

Even the way he sat—high above, looking down at Kouhei—was a deliberate show of dominance, a silent reminder of who held the power here.

"Greetings, you two. I am very grateful that you have both arrived here safely," Kazuhiro said, his gaze locking directly onto Kouhei.

Kouhei could tell immediately—this wasn’t just polite formality. The man was testing him, trying to intimidate him, to see if he’d crack under the pressure.

But Kouhei didn’t even flinch. Instead, he dipped into a deep, respectful bow—precisely the kind of gesture that would befit someone meeting a figure of this stature. It was a manner he had learned from Aria herself.

"Thank you for the invitation, Sarushima-sama," Kouhei replied smoothly. "And thank you for the kind gesture of arranging our pickup the moment we arrived in hell. I truly appreciate it."

Even though the sight of onis used as transportation had disgusted him, he knew when to put that aside. Showing gratitude was a necessity in a meeting like this.

"Well, your appreciation is received," Kazuhiro said evenly. "I see you’ve met Souichiro. As you can tell, he’s recovered well. Perfectly healthy, despite nearly dying by your hands. Too healthy, in fact. And it seems he’s... mellowed down."

"Mellowed down" was far too mild—Souichiro felt like an entirely different person compared to the man Kouhei had fought.

"Now then..." Kazuhiro’s voice deepened. "Let’s address the real matter here. Child of Anti-Prophecy—what do you intend to do for us?"

The question hit like a curveball—so sudden and so blunt—that Kouhei found himself momentarily without an answer.

"...What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

"My daughter is a fine maiden, is she not?" Kazuhiro asked, his crimson eyes shifting to Yuuna.

Kouhei blinked, unsure of where this was going.

"Yes," he answered honestly. "I don’t think your daughter is anything less than a fine maiden."

"Then what will you do... to have her?"

"What?" Yuuna was the first to speak this time, her voice sharp with disbelief.

"Yuuna is my daughter and a member of the Sarushima Clan," Kazuhiro said, his tone unyielding. "Since she belongs to something I rule, she is, in a sense, my property. And as far as I recall, I have never blessed your relationship."

He wasn’t wrong. While Yuuna and Kouhei’s relationship was no secret—and Kazuhiro knew about it—he had never given his blessing or approval.

The reason was simple. The Sarushima Clan had always been known for its strictly incestuous bloodline, a tradition dating back to their earliest ancestors to preserve the purity of their noble vampire heritage.

A relationship outside the clan meant exile—permanent removal of the Sarushima name and total severance from the family.

So technically, what Yuuna and Kouhei had... shouldn’t be possible.

"I am willing to acknowledge your relationship with Yuuna," Kazuhiro said finally. "But only if you surrender your power to the Sarushima Clan—and put it to use for us."

"Father! What are you saying?!" Yuuna snapped, outrage spilling from her voice. She couldn’t believe he would even suggest something like this.

"You have no say in this, Yuuna. I am speaking to the Child of Anti-Prophecy," Kazuhiro cut her off sharply, his gaze never leaving Kouhei.

He shifted his gaze back toward Kouhei, his eyes sharp, testing, as if trying to peel away whatever mask the boy might be wearing. At first, he had expected Kouhei to be shaken—maybe even stumble over his words—like Yuuna might if she were caught in a situation like this. But to his surprise, there wasn’t a flicker of panic on Kouhei’s face. Instead, there was an eerie steadiness in his expression, a calmness that felt deliberate.

"You seem like you were expecting something like this," Kazuhiro said, his tone both probing and faintly impressed. "That’s good. It means that before you even stepped into this place, you’d already gone through the possibilities in your head. You’ve had the time to think about it, probably over and over again. So, I’d imagine... you already have your answer, don’t you?"

Kouhei’s eyes didn’t waver. He gave a simple nod, the movement slow and controlled. "There’s nothing complicated about it. I’m just... debating it calmly in my head," he said, his voice steady, almost cold. "But the answer has to be no."

"What?" The word slipped from Kazuhiro like a blade being drawn, his gaze locking harder onto Kouhei’s. The air between them tightened. "You’re telling me you’re giving up on my daughter? Even after you went to war with my own son just to take her back? Was your resolve really that shallow?"

Kouhei shook his head, his voice firm, his eyes meeting Kazuhiro’s without a trace of hesitation. "No, Sarushima-sama," he replied. "I never said a single word about giving her up, did I? Which is exactly why... if you’re going to put everything into taking her away from me, then I’ll take up arms against you—and I’ll fight until I take her back."

Yuuna’s breath caught for a moment as she stared at him. She hadn’t expected that—hadn’t expected him to speak with that kind of weight in his words. The conviction in his tone wasn’t just talk; it was the kind of resolve that came from someone ready to risk everything.

Kazuhiro studied him in silence, the room thick with tension. Then, a low laugh rumbled from his chest, breaking the stillness. "Well, well... you certainly are a brave one," he said, though there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. "But tell me—do you truly believe that an army of measly succubus could slaughter the entire battalion of the Sarushima Clan?"