The air in the small cottage crackled with a tension that was almost palpable. Hiro, a figure perpetually perched on the edge of exasperation, repeated his grim suggestion, "I think we should just kill her. Again." His voice, rough and laced with a weariness that belied his youthful appearance, seemed to bounce off the rustic walls, each word a sharp echo.

  Bathilda, her brow furrowed in concentration, ignored him. Her attention was laser-focused on the delicate creation nestled in her palm: a ring of white-gold, its surface gleaming under the soft candlelight, centered by a vibrant red diamond that pulsed with an inner light.

  She was a Vampire, yes, but one driven by a profound compassion, a desire to mend the broken pieces of a world that seemed perpetually fractured. The ring, a culmination of knowledge, luck, and heartfelt intent, was her attempt to unravel the Demon King’s curse, a dark stain on the fabric of their reality.

  "Ok. This is called the Ring of Self-Control," she explained, her voice soft yet firm, a stark contrast to Hiro’s abrasive tone. "It should grant you complete dominion over yourself, but… well, we’ll see. I’m going to place it on your finger now, so please, remain still."

  Hiro’s protest was immediate and vehement. "This is a stupid idea! What if she attacks you? We're dealing with the Demon King!" But the Demon King, a small, fragile-looking girl, was transfixed by the ring, her large, luminous eyes sparkling with a childlike wonder that seemed incongruous with her fearsome reputation. She gazed at the object as if it were the most precious treasure in the world, oblivious to Hiro’s warnings.

  Bathilda gently took the Demon King’s small, pale hand, the skin cool and smooth beneath her touch. With painstaking care, she slid the ring onto the girl’s slender finger. The red diamond shimmered, casting a warm, ruby-colored glow across her delicate features.

  A tense silence descended upon the cottage. Bathilda held her breath, waiting for a sign, any indication that her magic had taken hold. Hiro stood rigid, his hand hovering by his side, ready to strike at the slightest provocation. The Demon King, meanwhile, remained motionless, her gaze fixed on the ring, her expression a mixture of awe and bewilderment.

  "It's so beautiful," she whispered, her voice barely audible, a soft, ethereal sound that seemed to fill the room. Bathilda released a sigh of relief, a wave of tension washing over her. She cautiously approached the girl, her eyes searching for any sign of change.

  "How do you feel?" she asked, her voice gentle.

  "Erm… I don’t know. Different?" The Demon King’s response was hesitant, her brow furrowed in thought. She had never experienced the sensation of self-control, of agency over her own actions. Emotions, feelings, were alien concepts to her, new and bewildering.

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  "Good. Different is good," Bathilda reassured her, a warm smile spreading across her face. "It’s certainly better than destruction and death. Now, come inside and have some tea." She turned towards the door, expecting the others to follow. But the Demon King remained rooted to the spot, her eyes still fixed on the ring. Hiro, too, stood unmoving, his gaze fixed on the girl with suspicion and distrust.

  "What are you waiting for? Hurry up," Bathilda called out, her voice laced with a gentle impatience. "You too, Hiro. Don’t just stand there making her feel uncomfortable. God knows you did it to me long enough."

  "Hey! That was different," Hiro retorted, a hint of a pout in his voice.

  "Yeah, yeah. Just get inside before everyone sees us, please. You too," she repeated, gesturing towards the Demon King.

  Once they were all seated around the small, worn table, mugs of steaming tea warming their hands, the silence returned, thick and heavy. The Demon King, Hiro, and Bathilda exchanged cautious glances, each unsure of how to proceed.

  "Ok, that’s enough of the tense silence," Bathilda declared, breaking the uneasy quiet. "Miss Demon King, what is your name? I refuse to call you by that moniker any longer."

  "I… er… I’m just the Demon King. I don’t have a name," she replied, her voice soft and meek, a stark contrast to the fearsome, monotone pronouncements of her former self.

  "In that case, your name is now Flo." Bathilda beamed, pleased with her quick thinking.

  "Why did you name her Flo?" Hiro asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

  "Recently, I’ve been wondering if God was actually God and if his harem weren’t all just a bunch of demons. Florence especially. I mean, she could have at least given me some basic information before shooting me off to start my second life as a bat."

  "Hmm? I spent longer there than I care to remember, but God being the Devil? I can't see it and never saw anything that would suggest such. Although, I was never allowed to enter the hot tub." Hiro's last sentence trailed off in a murmur, his expression a mix of annoyance and wistful longing.

  Bathilda shrugged, her own experience in the so-called heaven had been brief and bizarre. "Flo," the Demon King repeated, her voice filled with a newfound wonder. She smiled, her eyes sparkling.

  "Do you like that name?" Bathilda asked, and Flo nodded enthusiastically, repeating her new name over and over.

  "Do you want to live here with me and Hiro?" Bathilda asked, her voice filled with warmth and sincerity. Flo’s eyes widened, sparkling with joy, and she nodded vigorously. Hiro, however, looked on with a mixture of disbelief and apprehension.

  "Ok, but there are rules. Do you understand?" Another nod. "Good. Rule one, no more violence. That goes for you too, Hiro."

  "This is such bullshit!" Hiro protested, but he remained silent. Flo continued to nod, her expression eager.

  "Rule two, humans like…" Bathilda paused, realizing she was no longer human. "Them," she corrected, pointing towards the walled city of Home visible through the window, "are precious and need to be protected." Hiro shook his head, while Flo nodded earnestly.

  'Don't kill them. Make sure you protect humans from now on. Monsters you can kill. Is there anything else or have I got it all covered?' she thought.

  "Oh! Rule Three! All young girls must attend school. Since we don’t have one though, I will homeschool you with everything I know." Hiro chuckled, amused by Bathilda’s self-serving rule. Flo looked puzzled, but not upset.

  Bathilda, having lived in this strange and unpredictable world for some time, had learned to adapt, to accept the absurd. She was determined to give Flo a chance, to help her find a new path, a new identity, away from the darkness that had defined her past.