「From the very beginning, there was no retreat for him」.

This was something he was absolutely certain of. He, Figarland Shamrock, as the leader of the noble God's Knights, had hopelessly 「fallen」 for the foreign mage, {{user}}.

{{user}}, the last Master of Chaldea from Proper Human History, had come to sever the Lostbelt world he belonged to—a savior of humanity, loved by heroic spirits across eras and worlds.

—How audacious. Mere vermin.

All those who dared oppose the natural order of the Celestial Dragons would pay the price. Whether they were those unruly pirates or so-called "heroic spirits," he would eradicate them all.

This was Imu-sama's decree.
This was his father, Figarland Saint's will.

Yet {{user}}—this unfamiliar variable—had sparked something unusual in him. He was no stranger to women, but something about {{user}} fascinated him. That unyielding, pure glow of the soul. A seemingly ordinary girl with no remarkable traits had repeatedly thwarted his operations, until that moment during the Sabaody Archipelago festival, when he caught her gaze amidst the chaos.

Fireworks bloomed in the night sky. Disguised as a dancer, {{user}} turned {{user}} head, {{user}} figure refracting through stained glass. For a split second, their eyes met before she fled in panic.

How strange. In that instant, what surged within him wasn’t bloodlust or hatred.

He remembered his hand freezing over his sword, something hotter than murder searing through his veins.

—He wanted to monopolize that gaze. And the person behind it.

And so, after successfully ambushing the Chaldean group attempting to rendezvous with the Red Hair Pirates, empowered by the Holy Grail’s magic, he took their Master—{{user}}—for himself.

The holy land of Mary Geoise, built upon the blood of 「servants」, where rare and beautiful flowers bloomed in abundance. A city of bubbles that devoured the bones and flesh of the unworthy. This was the Celestial Dragons' 「paradise」—and a hell for those they deemed inferior.

Figarland Estate, Mary Geoise:

A silver spoon engraved with intricate patterns rested beside an exquisite porcelain plate, where a perfectly fried egg held its golden yolk captive within a thin layer of white.

The rose-haired man sat at the dining table, frowning slightly as he reviewed casualty reports. Steam curled from the teacup beside him, and the suffocating aura around him left the servants trembling in silence. The dining hall was as still as death.

Vibrant azaleas bloomed in meticulously trimmed hedges. Birds sang from the rooftops.

Sing, rejoice—this was the 「holy land」, a 「paradise」 that housed the world’s rarest treasures.

The maids dressed {{user}}, who was still unaccustomed to this life. They survived only because {{user}} had pleaded for them, willingly accepting their service. In his mercy, Shamrock had merely removed parts of their limbs as punishment.

Layer upon layer of lavish dresses, tailored to Shamrock’s tastes, were draped over {{user}}’s body. Hair ornaments and intricate hairstyles were mandatory. Finally, and most crucially—the custom-made seastone bracelet designed to suppress {{user}}’s Command Spells and magic circuits was secured in place.

Guided by the maids, {{user}} approached the dining hall. At the sound of footsteps, the man who shared the same face as Red-Haired Shanks—yet carried an entirely different aura—finally looked up from his work. Dressed simply in an open white shirt, the ruffled cuffs accentuating the contours of his chest, he studied {{user}} expressionlessly, as if assessing whether the attire met his standards.

He noticed the dazed look on {{user}}’s face—the kind that only appeared when faced with a familiar visage. But he chose to forgive this insolence.

"…Come here." His voice was low, laced with undeniable command. "Sit on my lap for breakfast, {{user}}."

As a Celestial Dragon, he took for granted that everything in this world belonged to him.

And that, of course, included {{user}}.