In an era immersed in cutting-edge technology, where the once war-torn minds of mortals had evolved into a pursuit of peace, Lucas, the god of mischief, found himself in a state of profound ennui. Lounging indolently on his throne, his feet nonchalantly draped over the armrest, he stifled a yawn while fixing a disdainful gaze upon the holographic monitor before him.
"Why are mortals so obtuse these days? Peace this, peace that. They babble on about war bringing nothing but sorrow and despair, and how peace must be upheld at any cost. What a load of nonsense."
Livid, he was. Understandably so. His centuries-old source of entertainment had dwindled in the face of the modern age.
Luesca, a woman with silver hair elegantly gathered into a singular bun, let out a sigh. "You truly are an insufferable being, Master. Aren't you exhausted from engaging in such nonsensical endeavors like instigating wars and conflicts across the world?"
She was Lucas's long-serving companion, having faithfully stood by him for centuries. Even in the times when Lucas wasn't yet the god of mischief, she was a constant presence at his side. She was a woman of ethereal beauty, possessed silver hair elegantly swept into a meticulously crafted bun that adorned her head. The strands, like strands of moonlight, seemed to defy gravity as they gathered and twisted into a singular, sophisticated coiffure. Her eyes, the color of stormy seas, held a timeless wisdom that mirrored the centuries she had spent in the company of Lucas.
Draped in a Victorian-style maid uniform, Luesca's attire exuded an air of both grace and sensuality. The dress, a masterpiece of fine craftsmanship, hugged her curves in all the right places, accentuating her alluring figure. The corset cinched her waist, enhancing the allure of her silhouette, while the full, flared skirt cascaded gracefully to the floor. Delicate lace adorned the edges, adding a touch of refined elegance to the ensemble.
Despite the modesty implied by the Victorian era, the uniform subtly emphasized Luesca's ample bosom, creating an intriguing interplay between propriety and allure. Her attire spoke volumes about her timeless charm, capturing the essence of a bygone era while retaining an undeniable allure in the present.
"You're well aware, Luesca. Nothing captivates me more than witnessing mortals engaging in deadly conflicts. There's an unparalleled beauty in kingdoms ablaze and eyes frozen in despair. The most exquisite scene is the anguish of those witnessing their loved ones draped in white cloth. War is an art. And you, of all people, should understand that."
"I did set aside my warring inclinations in the past due to sheer exhaustion. We've endured through centuries, so can't you just move on and acknowledge that mortals now lean more toward peace than war?"
Lucas sighed, a melancholic undertone accompanying the movement as he adjusted his regal posture on the throne. "You know what, you're right. The thrill of orchestrating and observing wars has lost its luster for me too. It became a wearisome, monotonous spectacle—a repetitive cycle of bloodshed and conquest. Undoubtedly intriguing, but witnessing it unfold for over five hundred years has left me thoroughly, and unexpectedly, bored."
Lucas fixed his gaze on Luesca, registering the shock written across her face.
"Why the astonishment?"
"No, it's nothing. It's just the first time I've witnessed you admit that war is a monotonous affair. You've never conceded, despite each war unfurling into the same macabre spectacle—bloodshed, conquest, pillage, assault, abduction, and wanton destruction. I once held the title of God of War, and even I acknowledged it as a wearisome pursuit. Yet, Master, you hadn't muttered a word about its tedium until this moment."
"Perhaps senility has crept in?"
"You're not aging, Master. Your visage remains frozen in time since the defeat of the second god of mischief."
"Not in a physical sense, Luesca. Perhaps I've grown old in the recesses of my mind."
Luesca observed her Master, his gaze intently focused on his hands. It was an unprecedented moment, witnessing him in such a vulnerable state. Despite his perpetually youthful appearance, in this instance, an air of senility enveloped him. A smirk tugged at Luesca's lips, a silent chuckle reverberating through her. However, her countenance remained stoic, projecting an image of a woman releasing a sigh rather than one savoring a private amusement.
Closing the distance to Lucas, she suggested, "How about relinquishing your title and embarking on something entirely new?"
"Give up my title, huh? I've toyed with that idea as well. With the monotony of creating mischief and war, this title seems devoid of purpose. Hmm?"
An insidious notion slithered into his mind. Before ascending to the illustrious position of the god of mischief, Lucas was, in fact, the scion of the Demon Lord of Lust—one of the seven deadly sins in the world.
His father once declared that the conquest of women brought greater pleasure than the conquest of kingdoms. Thus, his motto echoed: 'I wage war only to claim women as my own.' It bore the unmistakable stamp of a Demon Lord of Lust. However, Leon deviated from his sire's predilections. He derived more satisfaction from war than from women. Despite having reveled in the carnal pleasures of hundreds of women over his lifetime, the act grew monotonous within a mere century, prompting him to abandon it altogether. Now, with war losing its allure, a tantalizingly mischievous notion infiltrated his mind—what if he sowed chaos among women instead?
"Fufufufufufu," he chuckled at the notion, unable to contain his amusement.
"Master?" Luesca appeared both shocked and perplexed, her gaze fixed on her master.
His laughter swelled, morphing into a thunderous howl rather than a mere chuckle. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Now I know what to do!"
"W-What are you planning, Master?" Luesca was visibly taken aback.
"I shall retain my title as the god of mischief, Luesca, for I shall embark on creating more mischief from this point onward."
Luesca nodded, her intrigue kindled by the enigmatic plans of her master.
"Enough of the same old games. It's time to conquer the realms in a whole new manner," Lucas declared with a wicked grin.
~ᙣ(𐋅)𐌄~
The modern age unfolded before us. Skies painted in an ethereal azure stretched wide, the air carried the harmonious tunes of chirping birds, and the hum of cars created a rhythmic melody on the streets. Mortals strolled in serene peace along the sidewalks. It was a world I, Lucas Louise Le Zepar, had never fathomed witnessing. The once familiar sights of skies tainted with smoke, the metallic aroma of blood lingering in the air, the echoes of swords, spears, guns, and the thunderous explosions had been replaced. This serene and tranquil world disgusted me.
Walking beside me was Luesca Louise Le Bael, my devoted servant. She had once held the title of the God of War but relinquished it when I ascended to godhood. Apparently, a god couldn't serve another god. That was the rule. Yet, when she was a god and I a mere demon, she had already been in my service. The logic eluded me—why a god couldn't serve a god, but a god serving a demon was acceptable.
Presently, let's explore the reason behind our earthly sojourn. Indeed, after more than fifty years of leisure in my castle, I found myself in a vastly different setting. Gone was the typical attire of a god, replaced instead by the garb of a school uniform.
This uniform exuded sophistication, seamlessly blending formality with contemporary style. The tailored blazer, adorned with intricate gold trimmings, boasted a deep, rich hue that accentuated its elegance. The crest on the breast pocket hinted at a school with a prestigious reputation.
Beneath the blazer, I sported a crisp white button-down shirt, flawlessly pressed and secured with a tie echoing the school's color scheme. Neatly pressed trousers completed the ensemble, while polished shoes added a final touch of refinement.
Luesca's uniform mirrored mine, with subtle variations that heightened its allure. The lower part, specifically the skirt, clung to her curves in a way that effortlessly accentuated her enticing figure. The hem, daringly hemmed to a more provocative length, teased at a sense of sensuality, inviting the eyes to linger on the contours of her shapely legs.
At the upper part, the uniform embraced her in all the right places, amplifying her natural charms. The fitted blazer not only highlighted her slender waist but also hinted at the curves beneath, adding an enticing element to the overall ensemble. The slight adjustments in her uniform, strategically crafted to emphasize her feminine allure, transformed the standard attire into a seductive masterpiece.
Completing the ensemble were knee-high socks that delicately embraced her well-defined calves and polished black shoes, each step she took radiating a quiet sophistication that only intensified the seductive aura surrounding her.
Now that I had found a new purpose in life, I couldn't help but be captivated by Luesca's beauty and allure. Despite the countless years we'd spent together, our connection had remained platonic, and we had never crossed that intimate line.
Luesca must have sensed my gaze on her, as she spoke without averting her eyes from the horizon, "Stare all you want, but that's all you can do."
I shifted my gaze away, retorting, "I'm just admiring how cute you look in that uniform."
"Your flattery won't get you any further than that."
"I'm not flattering you with ulterior motives," I shot back.
"Now that you're on a mission to conquer women, I fear my chastity might fall victim to your advances. I'm only setting boundaries so you know where to draw the line."
"Your commitment to chastity is remarkable. You've held onto it for, what, half a millennium already?"
"Yes, because I'm saving it for my first love."
First love. She confessed to having a first love and professed to patiently await his return.
Honestly, I hadn't expected this woman, who rarely displayed any emotions, to have fallen in love. She claimed to be devoted to only one man, not swayed by anyone else over the years. Her virginity, she asserted, was reserved for that particular man. Somehow, conflicting emotions stirred within me at the mere thought.
"Who is this first love, incidentally?"
"It's a secret."
So, it was a secret even from her own master, huh? Well, guess what? From now on, I'll be crafting secrets that even she won't be privy to.
"Anyway, Master, are you really sure this is what you want to do?" she inquired.
I gazed at the institution slowly coming into view as we walked. Some female students were heading there as well, each one distinct in my eyes. I couldn't help but anticipate that this would be the most mischievous undertaking of my life. I would be stealing wives, girlfriends, and conquering women left and right. I would become the preeminent god of mischief.
"I am sure," I affirmed.
Luesca rolled her eyes and quickened her pace to avoid walking beside me. I paid her no mind, letting out a devilish grin.