I Took A Succubus's First Time-Chapter 103: The Great House of Sarushima

"Request, you say?" Souichiro's lips curled into a smug grin, his crimson eyes gleaming with mockery. His voice carried that sickly-sweet condescension Yuuna had always despised. "Do you seriously think Father would humor you after you abandoned the Great House? Bold of you to even show your face here. Well..." He leaned back lazily, his grin widening. "I might call for him, but on one condition—you agree to marry me."

"I won't marry you," Yuuna said, her voice sharp and unyielding, slicing through his words like a blade. There was no hesitation, no crack in her tone.

The Sarushima family had always been poisoned by their own traditions. For generations, they had clung to their twisted notion of purity—a family of Noble Vampires, obsessively intermarrying to preserve their so-called "perfect" lineage. Marriage within the family was their sick way of ensuring their blood remained untainted. It was a fucked-up custom that had persisted for centuries.

Yuuna and Souichiro had been paired for marriage before they even understood what it meant. But all of that was thrown out when Yuuna made the bold decision to create her own house, shattering the chains of her family's expectations. Her defiance—the act of creating her own house—was nothing short of rebellion, a slap across the face of everything the Sarushima family stood for.

"If you'd just stop being so stubborn and return, everything would fall back into place," Souichiro continued, his voice dripping with entitlement. "The prestige you were born into, the power you've abandoned—it could all be yours again. And, of course, you'd marry me."

"I don't plan on marrying you," Yuuna retorted, her gaze as cold and unyielding as steel. "Or anyone else in the Great House of Sarushima, for that matter."

Her words hit like a slap, but Souichiro's smirk faltered only briefly before twisting into a sneer. "Still as fucking obstinate as ever, I see," he growled, his tone darkening. "You could've been queen of everything—wealth, power, immortality—all at your fingertips. But instead, you threw it away to live like a lowly beggar. Do you even understand how humiliating it was when you broke our engagement? Do you know how much of a disgrace you've made me?"

Yuuna's crimson eyes bore into him, unblinking, as if dissecting every petty word that left his lips. He looked back at her, frustrated, but she remained unmoved, her posture unflinching.

Souichiro might've been ten years older than her, but for vampires—whose lives stretched endlessly—that gap was laughably insignificant. Among mortals, he'd be the equivalent of just a single year older than her.

Souichiro, groomed since birth to take over as leader of the Sarushima house, had been spoiled rotten. Every whim, every desire—granted without question. And yet, despite his collection of mistresses—dozens, perhaps even more—his obsession with Yuuna remained like a festering wound he refused to let heal.

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As they stared each other down, the sound of measured footsteps echoed through the hall. Each step felt deliberate, heavy with purpose, like a drumbeat heralding the arrival of authority. Yuuna and Souichiro turned toward the approaching figure, the tension in the room thick enough to choke on.

When the man stepped into view, the air seemed to shift, charged with a suffocating weight. His golden hair gleamed under the chandelier's light, and his red eyes burned with an intensity that could make lesser beings crumble. He was the embodiment of the Sarushima legacy—perfection incarnate, a symbol of their unyielding bloodline.

The resemblance was unmistakable; he bore the signature traits of the Sarushima bloodline, traits that symbolized their so-called purity. If a vampire of Sarushima descent lacked those golden locks or ruby-red eyes, they were considered impure—a disgrace born of mingling with lesser beings.

"Ah, Yuuna," the man said, his voice smooth yet commanding, like the calm before a storm. His piercing gaze locked onto her, unblinking. "So, you've returned. I didn't expect to see you again—not after your bold declaration to create your own house. What has changed? Why have you come crawling back now?"

"Father," Yuuna said, bowing deeply. Her movements were precise, not a trace of submission in her form. When she rose, her crimson eyes met his unwaveringly, like a predator sizing up its equal. Her voice, steady and resolute, broke the silence. "I need your help."

"Help?" Her father's voice slashed through the air like a blade, sharp and dripping with derision. He leaned back, the smirk on his lips curling cruelly. "You wanted independence, didn't you? Boldly declared your freedom. And yet, here you are, crawling back to beg for my help?"

Yuuna stood firm, her crimson eyes locked onto his. She refused to flinch, even as the weight of his scorn pressed down on her. "A fallen angel has infiltrated our territory in the mortal world," she began, her tone steady despite the tension crackling in the room. "We've been hunting it, but it's using its powers to elude us. We've found no trace of it so far."

"Oh?" His brow arched. "So, let me get this straight. You want the Great House of Sarushima to intervene and clean up your mess. That's what you're asking, isn't it?"

"Yes," Yuuna replied, her voice unwavering.

Her father's smile faded, replaced by a frigid stare that bore into her like the tip of a dagger. "Tell me, Yuuna," he said, his voice dangerously calm, "why should I help you? This is your house, your burden to bear. What reason do I have to waste my resources? There's no benefit to the Great House of Sarushima in aiding an outsider, especially one who severed all ties and offers nothing in return."

The intensity of his gaze was suffocating, like being crushed under an avalanche of ice. Yuuna could feel her pulse quicken, her body instinctively wanting to kneel, to beg, just as she had countless times before as a child under that same piercing glare. But this time, she didn't buckle. She clenched her fists at her sides, her nails biting into her palms, the faint sting grounding her resolve.

Because this wasn't about her pride. It wasn't about the Great House or their cursed expectations. This was about Kouhei.

The fallen angel had slipped through their grasp too many times, its presence an ominous shadow over everything. Yuuna couldn't let her guard down, couldn't risk the angel targeting Kouhei. The thought of him being hurt—or worse—seared through her like fire. That fear, that determination, held her steady.

"The Child of Anti-Prophecy might be in danger," she said, her voice cutting through the tension like a whip crack.

Her father's expression shifted slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching as he leaned forward, interest flickering in his crimson eyes. "Hmm..." he hummed, his tone laced with intrigue. "So it's true, then. The Child of Anti-Prophecy exists. I'd heard rumors—whispers of it being under your care—but I dismissed them as nothing more than idle gossip. I never expected..." He trailed off, a faint smirk tugging at his lips again.

The mention of the child sent a ripple through the room. In Hell, the news of the Child of Anti-Prophecy's existence had stirred demons into a frenzy. It was a beacon of hope for the demons, a weapon that could tilt the eternal war between Heaven and Hell in their favor. Even her father, as cold and calculating as he was, couldn't hide the flicker of delight in his eyes.

"However," he said, his voice dropping into a dangerous growl, "I'm not so easily convinced. I won't believe in something I haven't seen with my own eyes. If you want my cooperation, you'll have to present the Child of Anti-Prophecy to me directly."

Yuuna's jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing in defiance. "Father," she said, her voice low and firm, "as much as I'd like to comply, Kouhei-kun is human. A mortal like him can't withstand the density of mana in Hell. The moment he steps foot here, he'll die."

The mana in Hell was a whole different beast compared to the mortal world. It wasn't just thicker—it was suffocating, a relentless storm of energy swirling through the air like a violent, invisible tide. Demons breathed it as naturally as humans breathed oxygen, but for anyone else? A single step into Hell would spell instant death. A mortal's fragile body couldn't handle even a fraction of the dense, chaotic mana coursing through the infernal realm.

"Are you suggesting," her father's voice dripped with amusement, though his eyes narrowed dangerously, "that I leave Hell to go to the mortal world just to lay my eyes on this so-called Child of Anti-Prophecy? Is that really what you're saying?"

"No," Yuuna replied immediately, shaking her head with quiet determination. She knew him better than anyone—she had spent her entire life deciphering the intricate web of his pride and disdain. Her father would never leave Hell for something he deemed beneath him. The idea of stepping into the mortal world for any reason, let alone to confirm a human's existence, would be a laughable waste of time to him. She wouldn't insult him with such a suggestion.

"It's enough if Souichiro confirms it for you," she said, her voice steady but firm. "If you won't move, then let him do it."

If the head of the Great House couldn't be bothered to act, the responsibility naturally fell to the heir.