Immortal SL*UT System
029. Tyrus of the Flame

Elric Household

Lilith returned home in time for lunch, slipping through the doors with a faint hum on her lips. Her family was already seated. Gareth was serving soup, Thorne cracking dry jokes at Luca's expense.

"You're late," Gareth said without looking.

"I was supervising important aesthetic operations," she replied, flopping into her seat.

"Sounds shady," Thorne muttered.

"I didn't know aesthetics were part of adventuring," Luca said innocently.

Lilith leaned in close, eyes narrowed. "It not part of adventuring, Luca. It's for my tribute chamber."

Luca blinked. "You mean the cuddling job?"

"…Yes," Lilith smirked.

"I want to cuddle big sis too." Luca claimed enthusiasticly.

Everyone laughing at his claim as he doesn't even know what he is asking for.

"Of course you can cuddle with me all you want. Big sis will squeeze you like a balloon." Lilith relpied while pulling his cheek.

An Hour Later – Julian's Room

Lilith didn't knock. She simply opened the door, sauntered in, and—

"BOOM!"

She launched herself onto Julian's bed with a dramatic bounce.

"Wh—Lilith?!"

He nearly dropped the book he was reading. His glasses slid down his nose as she propped herself up beside him, stretching like a lazy cat.

"Dress shopping," she declared.

"I-I have things to—"

"Postpone. You promised me, remember? Now move it, handsome."

Julian sighed, defeated. "Just give me five minutes."

Tribute Fashion Boutique – Caelora City

It was a posh little shop tucked in a refined district, and unlike most places, it actually had a female section. Small—but real. A tribute fashion boutique that catered to the few rare women who came to claim.

Lilith's eyes sparkled the moment she stepped inside.

Velvet mannequins. Silken robes. Lace-lined corsets. Stockings with garter clasps.

Julian looked like he wanted to evaporate.

She ran her fingers across a semi-transparent black and crimson chemise. "Hmm… too tame."

Then she pulled up a sheer halter piece with side slits that ran all the way up her thighs.

Julian's face turned red. "I—Isn't that a little much?!"

Lilith grinned. "I am supposed to have s*x, Julian. What were you expecting me to wear? Leather armor?"

"I was hoping for… more cloth."

"Oh, sweet summer boy," she cooed. "Tribute sessions aren't about defense."

The shopkeeper, an old man who clearly found them amusing, winked at Lilith and said, "This one's imported from Sertia. Silk-wrapped devil's thread. Stays cool no matter how hot the session gets."

She bought two dress from the shop. Julian carried the bags, his ears still pink.

Evening – Return to Tribute Quarters

The sun was just dipping behind the western ridge as Lilith and Julian arrived at the chamber once more. Saria opened the gate with a sheepish salute.

"Welcome back, Commander of Taste."

Lilith beamed. "I trust the mood has improved?"

"Come see for yourself," Saria said, stepping aside.

She walked inside—and gasped softly.

The bed was now clad in shimmering pink sheets that practically glowed in the candlelight. The walls had been repainted a soft blush hue, with velvet ribbons draped from the corners and fluffy heart-shaped ornaments lining the mantelpiece. The black couch gleamed near the wall, sensibly low and sensuously long. The table had no corners. Everything was as she imagined.

Even Brell, who opened the door for her, looked like he'd come straight from a romance novel set.

Lilith stood still for a moment, then gave a regal nod.

"Acceptable," she said.

Everyone exhaled in relief.

Lilith turned to them with a predator's smile. "Good. Now, let's see if it passes the real test… tomorrow."

Night – Elric Estate

After inspecting the newly decorated chamber and giving it her (reluctant) royal seal of approval, Lilith left the seductive ensemble behind—neatly folded and hidden in the wardrobe of her tribute quarters. No way she was walking down the streets dressed like that. She'd change at the chamber.

By the time she returned home, the stars were already twinkling overhead. The household smelled of roasted herbs and garlic—dinner was on time.

Thorne was just finishing off the stew pot when she slipped into her seat.

"Your 'training base' ready?" he asked casually.

Lilith smirked. "It's ready for all forms of intense cardio."

Gareth narrowed his eyes but said nothing.

Luca, ever the innocent, blinked and muttered, "Cardio is important…?"

Dinner was pleasant. Nobody pressed too hard, though she caught Gareth giving her a few long looks. He knew she was up to something—but also knew better than to ask.

Later – Lilith's Room

Back in her own bed, Lilith lay with her arms folded behind her head, eyes tracing the canopy overhead. Her heart was calm—but her mind wasn't.

She pulled up her system menu.

[Skill Sync] & [Stat Drain]

Two of the most broken abilities in the world, she suspected. And she'd only scratched the surface. Just one tribute session could spike her stats and unlock entire skills from high-tier men.

"I'm not nervous," she whispered to herself. "I'm just… excited. Yes."

She stared at the glowing interface.

Tomorrow… we test everything.

Sleep came slowly—but deeply.

Next Morning – 8:00 AM

Knock knock knock.

"Big sis!"

Luca's voice—cheerful and energetic—pierced her dreams.

"Mmmgh…"

"You're on the schedule! Today's your cuddle work, remember? Up, up!"

Lilith groaned, rolled over, then shot upright as memory slammed into her.

Right.

First tribute encounter. Today.

She washed up quickly, brushed out her long black hair, tied a soft braid across the side, and slipped into a casual day dress—modest and clean, good enough to walk the streets. The real outfit was waiting elsewhere.

Breakfast Table – Elric Estate

The entire family was already gathered.

Thorne looked up from his eggs. "So, the battlefield awaits."

"Try not to kill him," Gareth said, sipping tea.

"You're not dressing like that, are you?" Luca asked. "You're supposed to charm people!"

Lilith smirked and ruffled his hair as she passed. "The killer look comes later."

Julian sat quietly, eyes a little downcast. When she caught his glance, she gave him a tiny wink—and he immediately looked away, red.

They talked little. Her family weren't about to embarrass her too much. But the tension was unmistakable: today was the day Lilith officially stepped into the role fate had dropped on her shoulders.

9:00 AM – Elric Estate Gate

Two figures waited by the entrance, armored and proud.

Captain Moreau Valehart, his crimson cloak fluttering faintly in the morning breeze, gave a curt bow.

Sir Kael Darran, ever-silent, stood like an immovable tree with his tower shield strapped tight.

"Good morning, Lady Elric," Moreau said. "Your chamber awaits."

Lilith smiled and stepped forward.

"Escort away, gentlemen. The flame arrives at ten."

9:30 AM – Tribute Quarters

They arrived without incident. The chamber glowed softly with the morning sun leaking through the upper windows. The pink hue of the walls now felt more natural, the silky sheets smooth and wrinkle-free. Candles were unlit, but everything was in place.

Dame Saria popped out from the downstairs hallway, grinning.

"Everything's ready. I even fluffed the couch pillows twice."

Sir Brell peeked from the kitchen area with a stiff nod, then quickly vanished.

Lilith took a deep breath, standing in front of the chamber door.

"All right, boys," she muttered to herself. "Let's see if the 'Love Room' lives up to the hype."

She stepped into the private suite to change.

Lilith flashed a sly smile, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Then do your job properly, gentlemen. I don't want any awkward interruptions today."

Without waiting for a reply, she made her way to the second floor and into the decorated "Love Room." The scent of fresh linens and floral oils hung in the air, the walls now glowing gently with red-hued lighting, the bed crowned in silky pink sheets. She opened the closet and laid her hands on the new dress—Noctelle.

As she slipped into it, the fabric hugged her like moonlight—soft, cool, and sensual. The slit along her leg opened with each step, and the neckline teased far more than it hid. Lilith smirked to herself in the mirror, fixing her hair, glossing her lips, and giving her body a final appreciative glance. This wasn't just about seduction. It was power.

10:00 a.m. – Outside the Chamber

The young man who arrived at the entrance was nothing short of striking. Tyrus of the Flame carried himself with confident grace. His shoulder-length auburn hair caught the morning light, and his dark mage robe shimmered faintly—black fabric trimmed with golden vines, a crimson line tracing down the center like a controlled ember. In one hand, he carried a short but ornate staff, and in the other—a bouquet of bright, spiral-petaled flame lilies native to the volcanic coasts.

Sir Brell greeted him first, adjusting his spear as he stepped forward. "Name and purpose, please."

"Tyrus of the Flame," the young man answered with a light smile. "I have an audience scheduled with Lady Lilith Elric."

Sir Kael emerged next, holding a compact magical device—its orb-like head pulsing faintly with rune script. "Identification is required. Place your hand on the sphere and channel a small pulse of mana."

Tyrus complied without hesitation. The orb flared gently in red-orange light, revealing a readout hovering in the air—name, mana signature, and affiliation. It matched perfectly.

"Confirmed," Kael said. "Welcome, Mr. Tyrus."

Captain Moreau joined them, nodding once. "We'll escort you upstairs."

As they ascended the staircase, Tyrus glanced around the interior—clean, well-guarded, private. An ideal tribute chamber.

When they reached the second floor, Moreau stopped before a heavy black-lacquered door with polished handles.

He knocked twice. "Lady Lilith. Tyrus of the Flame has arrived."

From within came a smooth, feminine voice—low, playful, commanding.

"…Let him in."

The knights stepped aside. Moreau and Saria remained at attention by the door as Tyrus stepped forward. He gently adjusted the bouquet and staff in his arms, then placed his free hand on the handle.

He turned it and entered the room.

What he found inside made his breath hitch for just a moment.

The Love Room was bathed in soft red-gold lighting, the air warm with notes of rose, vanilla, and spice. The walls were lined with silken ribbons and soft velvet banners, with lace-trimmed curtains catching the breeze.

And there, lounging on the edge of the grand bed—

—Lilith Elric, draped in the dress called Noctelle.

Its silky midnight fabric clung to her body like moonlight over still water, the plunging neckline drawing the eye down, the high slit showing the smooth expanse of her thigh. Her long silver hair cascaded over one shoulder, lips glossed in deep red, eyes half-lidded with calm amusement.

She looked like the kind of woman who could kill with a kiss.

"Good morning, Tyrus," she said, voice sultry but clear.

"Lady Lilith," he said, stepping closer and offering the bouquet with a respectful bow. "A gift to honor the meeting. You look… breathtaking."

She took the flowers, eyes flicking briefly to the staff in his other hand. "I see you came prepared. I like that."

Tyrus smiled, setting his staff gently against the wall. "It would be rude to come empty-handed."

She placed the bouquet in a vase by the bed, then turned back to him.

Her movements were slow, deliberate. The dress named Noctelle shimmered faintly in the crimson glow of the chamber, her every step like that of a panther closing in on prey—not with violence, but with intent.

She moved past him without a word, heels tapping gently against the floor, and sat down on a velvet chair beside the round table positioned near the window. A soft pink cloth lay spread across its polished surface, holding a small porcelain teapot, two cups and saucers, and a tray of pastel sweets.

Lilith crossed her legs and rested her cheek on one hand. Her silver hair spilled over one shoulder, and her lips curved with a smile that was equal parts amusement and challenge.

"Why don't we have some tea first?"

Tyrus bowed his head, playing along with her tone.

"It would be my honor."

He walked across the room, setting down his staff gently against the far wall. As he took his seat opposite her, Lilith's eyes remained on him, calm and curious.

The air between them was warm now—unspoken tension slowly rippling beneath the pleasantries.

She reached for the teapot, lifted the lid, and frowned slightly. "Hmm. It seems the tea has cooled."

Her tone dipped into something silkier. "Would you be kind enough to heat it up…?"

Tyrus chuckled under his breath, then extended two fingers. A gentle stream of orange light flowed into the teapot, surrounding it like a sunlit haze.

Moments later, steam rose from the spout once more.

"There we are," he said smoothly, "Fresh and ready."

Lilith poured the tea with graceful hands. She slid one cup toward him, the clink of porcelain against porcelain soft but deliberate. He accepted it with thanks.

As he sipped, she leaned forward slightly across the table. Her cleavage peeked just enough from Noctelle's low neckline, and her voice lowered a touch.

"So… Tyrus of the Flame," she began, her tone teasing but curious, "Tell me something real about yourself. Something not in your tribute file."

Tyrus set down his cup with an amused smirk. "Hmm. I suppose… I once tried to court a noble's daughter by conjuring a rain of flame petals over her balcony."

Lilith blinked, arching a brow. "And?"

"She thought it was an assassination attempt. I spent the next week in chains."

She laughed—soft, musical, and surprisingly genuine.

"Maybe you'll do better today."

"I certainly hope so," he replied with a small bow of the head.

Then, as if remembering something, he reached into the fold of his mage robe and pulled out a small, elegant bottle. The glass was dark violet, its neck wrapped in silver thread, and the seal bore the mark of a high-tier alchemist.

"A gift," he said, offering it with two hands. "Exotic perfume. Said to be crafted from the blossoms that only bloom atop Mt. Ivernas during lunar eclipses."

Lilith took it delicately, inspecting the vial with narrowed eyes and a sly smile.

"Looks expensive."

"It was. But I came prepared."

She uncorked it—just enough to let the scent slip out. A soft, enchanting fragrance floated between them—floral, but sharp with something primal underneath. Like a memory you couldn't name, but didn't want to forget.

Lilith's lips curled upward.

"Apply it for me."

Tyrus froze.

Just for a breath.

Then he stood without a word and stepped around the table. Lilith remained seated, tilting her head to the side, baring the curve of her neck.

Tyrus leaned in, his breath just brushing her collarbone as he dabbed the perfume along her pulse point with gentle precision.

The scent clung to her skin.

His fingers trembled slightly.

Lilith whispered, "Not done yet."

She tilted her wrist up, offering her inner arm this time. "Here too."

Tyrus obeyed. His fingertips grazed her skin as he applied the perfume, the air between them now thick with heat that had nothing to do with fire magic.

And then—

She turned her face slightly. Their eyes locked at close range.

Her voice, low and dangerous, brushed his ear like silk.

"Let's see your heat, Tyrus of the Flame"

Continued...

(Spice next chapter)

Non-canon filler: The previous owner of the body has now become a yokai and came to haunt me and she has something to say to you all.

❝Darling~ every time you press that «Power Stone», it's like a little love letter to me. So don't ever forget again. I'm always watching. Always~♥❞

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