Hikari Mariya's POV
"Princess..." I stammered, barely managing to get the word out as Princess Hatsune appeared before me without warning.
Her arrival was abrupt, unannounced, and utterly commanding, her presence suffocating the air around me.
There was no prior notification, no herald to announce her intentions, and certainly no explanation as to why she was here.
I knew little about her, other than what everyone knew—she was the Princess, a symbol of regal authority, and an idol revered by many.
Her reputation preceded her, radiant and untouchable, yet here she stood, gracing me with her presence, though her intentions remained a mystery.
As for myself, I was merely a gatekeeper, a devoted sentinel tasked with guarding Sun Wukong, the Heretic God, imprisoned in this sacred temple.
With the aid of Zanryuuto, the ancient magical sword I held in my hands, Sun Wukong had been reduced to a shadow of his former self.
The once-mighty deity had been weakened to the brink of helplessness, his very essence bound by the unyielding seal that held him captive.
The sword was no ordinary blade; it carried within it a spell of immense power—a curse binding known as Keeper of the Horse.
This spell was the culmination of centuries of magical refinement, crafted by generations of magi and perfected over time.
Its potency was such that even a being as formidable as Sun Wukong could not escape its grasp. The seal, however, was not unbreakable.
Only a specific combination—a pure virgin miko, a snake or dragon heretic god, and the sword itself—could undo the spell and release the Heretic God from his bonds.
"Hikari Mariya, lend me your sword," Princess Hatsune commanded, her voice sharp and unwavering.
Her words struck me like a thunderclap. I hesitated, my grip tightening on the hilt of Zanryuuto.
Reluctantly, I nodded and handed the sword over to her.
She took it with a deliberate grace, her eyes scrutinizing every inch of the blade as if peeling back its secrets.
Her delicate fingers traced the sharp edge, a dangerous dance that seemed to test not only the blade's lethality but also my resolve.
"I have a question for you, Hikari..." she said, her gaze never leaving the sword. "Where does your true allegiance lie? With royalty, or with God?"
Her question pierced through me like a dagger, and I found myself unable to meet her eyes.
"I... I don't know, Princess," I admitted, bowing my head in shame. "We were taught to devote our purity to the God—to our God."
Her sharp eyes locked onto mine, the intensity of her gaze making my heart clench with guilt. Her disappointment was palpable, a heavy weight pressing down on my chest.
"Then, if I were to ask you for a favor, would you grant it to me?" she asked, her tone measured yet laced with expectation.
I hesitated again, torn between my loyalty to the divine and my duty to the royal bloodline.
She was, after all, my superior in every worldly sense, the rightful ruler of this nation.
My guilt gnawed at me, the conflict within threatening to tear me apart. In the end, I nodded.
"Yes, Princess," I said softly. "If it is within my power, I will grant you this favor."
Her expression remained inscrutable, though the tension in the air seemed to thicken.
My heart raced as I wondered what she would ask of me.
Yet, in that moment, I resolved that no matter what, I would not betray the God to whom I had sworn my life.
Anything else—anything outside that sacred vow—was hers to command.
"Then I need your full cooperation in ensuring Sun Wukong's permanent freedom," the Princess declared, her voice resolute and unwavering.
Her bold proclamation caught me off guard, and I instinctively took a step back, utterly stunned by the audacity of her words.
"Are you absolutely certain about this, Princess?" I asked, my tone heavy with disbelief and apprehension. I couldn't fathom why she would make such a reckless proposal.
We both understood the monumental importance of the Heretic God to our nation.
Sun Wukong wasn't just a powerful ally—he was the linchpin of our sovereignty, the unshakable pillar that had safeguarded our independence for centuries.
His unparalleled combat prowess, coupled with his sworn allegiance and submission, was the sole reason why our country had never been conquered, subdued, or even threatened by the overwhelming might of the Campione.
As long as Sun Wukong remained bound to our will, our nation could stand tall and unyielding against any adversary.
And yet, here was the Princess, suggesting we simply let him go? Just like that?
"You can't truly mean this," I pressed, desperate for some clarification that would make sense of her intentions.
But the Princess remained unfazed. Her resolve was like iron, and her gaze pierced through my doubt with unsettling certainty.
"Yes, I am certain," she affirmed. "Now, I ask that you grant us privacy—complete and undisturbed. I need to speak with Sun Wukong personally and negotiate a deal with him."
Her words were polite, yes, but her tone carried a firmness that left no room for argument.
This was not a request; it was an order.
She didn't want me lingering, listening in, or even existing in the vicinity of their discussion.
I swallowed hard, bowing deeply as I acquiesced to her command.
"As you wish, Princess," I murmured, my humility masking the storm of unease swirling in my mind.
Reluctantly, I stepped away, leaving the Princess to her private audience with the Heretic God.
With each step, the weight of my compliance grew heavier, yet it also signified my silent acceptance of her plan—no matter how daring or reckless it seemed.
My obedience to her in this moment was not merely an act of deference; it was a tacit agreement, an unspoken vow to support her bold ambition to free Sun Wukong, even if it defied logic, tradition, and the precarious balance of power that had sustained our nation for so long.
.
.
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Hatsune Miku's POV
"How is it, Hoshino-kun? Do you think my acting is great?" I asked eagerly, unable to hide the anticipation bubbling within me.
I couldn't help but crave his approval, my king, as he stepped out from the shadows, his figure illuminated by the dim light.
His hand reached out, brushing gently against my hair.
"Of course. I trust you can handle it," he said, his voice warm and laced with confidence.
His chuckle carried a sense of ease that seemed to seep into my very soul.
Each time he complimented me, every time his hand caressed my hair, an inexplicable joy surged through me.
It was a joy unlike anything I had ever felt before, a warmth that consumed me as I instinctively snuggled closer to him, burying myself in his embrace and seeking the comfort only he could provide.
"Who would have thought that Miko still doesn't know yet… that I'm nothing more than a fugitive now, no longer a princess," I lamented softly, the weight of my circumstances settling heavily on my shoulders.
"She wouldn't suspect a thing," Hoshino-kun replied, his tone unwavering. "How could they ever imagine it? To them, you're a kind and gentle soul, someone incapable of harming Japan or her interests. They'd never believe you'd run to Sun Wukong or attempt to free him from his prison."
As he spoke, his hand shifted, cupping my cheek tenderly.
His touch lingered—longer than necessary, but I welcomed it. I didn't push him away.
Instead, I pressed myself further against his arm, seeking solace in his presence.
"Will everything turn out okay, Hoshino-kun?" I asked, my voice tinged with guilt. "Will there… be many casualties?"
The thought of freeing Sun Wukong haunted me; his hatred for this nation and the torment he endured at their hands meant that the price of his freedom might be steep, perhaps even catastrophic.
"There will be casualties," he admitted, his voice steady and resolute. "But when you take control, you can transform this corrupt nation into anything you want. I'll be right behind you, always. With me at your side, you can act boldly and without hesitation."
His words were a balm for my frayed nerves, and within them, I found both comfort and determination.
I nodded, the resolve in my heart hardening.
"Yes… there is no turning back now."
"I'll try, Hoshino-kun. Watch me."
And then, without warning, he leaned in.
His lips crashed against mine, and I found myself pinned to the wall behind me. His kiss was not gentle; it was raw, aggressive, and consuming.
His touch grew bolder—his fingers trailing from my hair to my neck, then to my waist, and down to my thighs.
I surrendered myself completely to his fervor, allowing him to take control.
I loved it.
I loved how aggressive he became, how his hands claimed every inch of me, how his lips dominated mine until I could no longer breathe without him.
Our mouths remained connected, saliva mingling in a shared, almost primal exchange.
Each touch, each kiss, each caress sent waves of electric pleasure through me, igniting every nerve in my body.
When he finally pulled back, I was breathless, my face flushed with an intensity I couldn't hide.
"You will, Princess," he said with absolute certainty.
I blushed furiously, unable to meet his gaze as he chuckled softly behind me.
Taking a deep breath, I composed myself and turned to lead the way.
Let's free the Monkey King first.
And then this world from its chains.
The die is cast, there is no turning back.