Chapter 1: The Cursed Twin-Orb Sigil and the Braless Demon Lord
"Surrender, Demon Lord! I shall cleave the 'Pink Twin-Orb Barrier' you planted upon your castle gate cleanly in twain with my Holy Sword!"
Leon Hart, a black-haired youth clad in gleaming silver armor, narrowed his sharp sapphire eyes. Through spotless white gloves, he thrust the tip of his sacred blade straight ahead.
Dangling from that hallowed steel was an oversized pale-pink brassiere printed with cheerful red strawberries.
Noelle Valkyria, Demon Lord of silver tresses, felt the breath catch violently in her throat. Her crimson eyes widened to their limits as icy fingers clamped hard onto the loose neckline of her jet-black gown.
(W-why on earth is my favorite bra—the one blown off my balcony in yesterday's gale—impaled upon the Hero's Holy Sword of all things?!)
Heat rushed from her cheeks down her collarbone. Noelle stumbled half a step back from her throne, fighting tooth and nail to keep her voice from cracking into a squeak.
"H-how insolent, Hero! Return that at once! And whatever you do, do not touch it with your bare hands!"
"What did you say?! Then it truly IS an ancient venomous hex—touching it ungloved brings instant death! Behold, the Twin-Orb Hex!"
Leon swung sideways with a metallic clang, raising a pressurized spray bottle of sanitizing holy water in his left hand. He twitched his nose, inhaling the throne room's air with militant suspicion.
"Even this sickly-sweet floral fragrance...! You infused it with sensory-numbing illusion incense, didn't you?! How unsanitary! I shall bleach and purify it immediately with chlorinated holy water!"
(Illusion incense?! That's literally luxury fabric softener from the human realm! Don't tell me he noticed I poured double the capful to make it smell nice! He's not a Hero at all—he's a ruthless sanitation inspector dispatched from human lands!)
Cold sweat slid down Noelle's spine. If she confessed right here that the ominous artifact was her undergarment, her majesty as Demon Lord would plummet beneath the abyss, carving eternal shame into demon history. Her eyes darted before she moistened her dry lips.
"N-no! You misunderstand! That is merely... yes, a failed prototype of a mana-containment seal! If you bleach it, the fabric will fray—I mean, it will detonate catastrophically!"
"Oh? A failed prototype? Yet look at this intricate lace geometry—unmistakably the summoning array of a Greater Archfiend! And observe this grotesque capacity!"
Leon flicked his wrist, jiggling the blade. The two enormous padded cups bounced with lively elasticity.
"Large enough to swallow two human heads with room to spare! How many wicked souls did you feed it to swell to such monstrous proportions?!"
"Kindly stop speaking of a woman's bust as though it were a sack of damned souls!"
"B-bust...? Do not tell me you intended to graft this cursed vessel directly over your own heart?!"
(It's hopeless! His germaphobia has bent his brain so badly we aren't speaking the same language! Worse, because I shrank every single other bra in scalding laundry water yesterday, I am completely braless right now! If I don't get it back soon, this draft up my dress is going to drive me mad!)
Beneath the sheer black silk, cold air grazed her defenseless skin, sending an involuntary shiver through her shoulders. Noelle hugged herself awkwardly, stamping a trembling boot across the obsidian floor with misty eyes.
"Regardless, it is MY private property! Lay it down at once and begone—wait, no, the floor is dusty, set it neatly upon a clean silk cloth!"
"I refuse! I shall dissect the occult structure of this relic completely and purify every fiber before your very eyes!"
Leon's azure eyes blazed with fanatical investigative fervor. Drawing a silver-rimmed jeweler's loupe from his breastplate, he leaned in until his breath grazed the underwire.
Chapter 2: Unbound Dark Matter and the Four Generals' Intrusion
"W-wait! Stop inspecting it! What will I do if even a single stitch snaps?!"
Every time Noelle leaned forward to shout, the unrestrained weight beneath her black gown rippled with dangerous, gravity-defying momentum. Clutching her chest desperately with crossed arms, she panted softly.
"That is a 'Restraining Seal' designed to suppress my immense dark mana! Last night, when I tossed my backups into a cauldron of cursed heat, every other restraint shrank! Without that one, my overflowing power simply won't fit!"
"What?! Your dark mana has swelled beyond what even these colossal twin spheres can hold?!"
Through his magnifying glass, Leon's gaze locked squarely onto Noelle's dangerously swaying neckline. His Adam's apple bobbed loudly.
"And right now you are fighting unsealed—meaning your limiter has been completely released?! No wonder your chest area has been radiating an unholy, bouncing gravitational mass since I walked in!"
"D-do not stare there! That is merely mana turbulence! Watch your eyes, you perverted inspector!"
At that exact instant—
Beep-beep-beep-beep! Beep-beep-beep-beep!
A brisk electronic kitchen timer chimed from down the outer corridor, shattering the tense silence of the throne room. Moments later, the massive obsidian doors were kicked flying off their hinges.
Storming in came a seven-foot-tall dragonkin warrior wrapped in heavy obsidian plate—and cinched neatly over it, a frilly pink gingham apron. General Bahamut Jill skidded to a frantic halt.
"Demon Lord! Grave news! I searched beneath every balcony and shrub in the courtyard, yet I cannot find it anywhere! At this rate, Your Majesty will be forced into full no-guard combat all day—!"
Jill froze mid-shout, golden eyes locking onto the familiar strawberry print dangling from Leon's blade. The dragonkin's scarred face twisted into the wrath of a guardian demon.
"You cur! To pilfer Her Majesty's 'Sacred Twin Wings'—you must be in league with those rumored panty-thieves of the human realm! And look how you're hooking it—you're warping the crucial center underwire!"
"Underwire?! So it IS an iron-ribbed torture device! And what on earth is that pink protective smock you're wearing? Are you an executioner dressed for blood splatter?!"
"Hmph, ignorant mortal! This is the latest water-repellent, stain-resistant ruffle apron. Even stubborn grease spatters wipe right off!"
Jill pinched a lacy pink frill with solemn pride. Every drop of color drained from Leon's face.
"Grease spatters?! Have you monsters been boiling captives alive for tallow?! What filth! What depravity! Think of what that fat will do to the kitchen plumbing!"
"No!! That's oil splatter from the fried chicken Jill made for dinner last night!! More importantly, what kind of Hero worries about our sink drains?!"
"Silence! Now that this intruder lays eyes upon Her Majesty's top secret, we cannot let him leave breathing! My Hellfire Breath shall reduce both thief and evidence alike to clean ash!"
Jill's massive jaws snapped wide, swirling crimson-black flames in the depths of his throat. A blast of searing wind whipped across the throne room, fluttering the strawberry bra dangerously close to scorching.
Chapter 3: Ultimate Holy Steam Cleansing and the Truth Unveiled
"Over my dead body!! Blasting flame that hot onto delicate silk-blend hex lace will singe the fibers and stink of scorched protein! How barbaric!"
Leon roared in genuine outrage. He plunged his Holy Sword upright into the flagstones and, from a spatial pouch on his back, whipped out a collapsible silver ironing board and a gleaming cordless steam iron in one fluid motion.
Click-clack. The aluminum legs locked crisply across the demon throne room.
Noelle and Jill stood frozen, jaws hanging open.
"...Excuse me? Why on earth does the Hero carry an ironing board into the final boss chamber?!"
"Behold—Sacred Household Sorcery fusing humanity's brightest domestic engineering with holy mana: Holy Steam Restoration Slash! Watch as pressurized white vapor penetrates shrunken weaves and coaxes their 3D geometry back millimeter by millimeter!"
Pssshhhhhh!
Clouds of pure steam hissed upward as Leon's white-gloved hand blurred across the strawberry cups. Almost magically, the poor flattened undergarment—traumatized by yesterday's laundry disaster—bloomed back into crisp, sculpted three-dimensional perfection.
"B-by the abyss! Such divine wristwork! Even my gentlest low-heat dragon breath couldn't restore that plush cup elasticity!"
Swallowing his flames back down, Jill clasped his clawed hands in sheer culinary-laundry awe. Yet Leon wasn't finished. Leaning closer, his eyes narrowed grimly at the inner lining—right along the band that touched bare skin.
"And look at this faint yellowing along the inner band...! You hid a shadow-curse even in the blind spot! Twin Chant of Baking Soda and Citric Acid—Purify!"
Leon misted holy cleanser and briskly tapped the lace with a fine horsehair brush—tap-tap-tap-tap. Noelle's heart slammed against her ribs as crimson heat flooded every pore.
"Kyaaaah!! That's just sweat from my mana-control training yesterday! Stop staring! Stop briskly tapping my underband with that tiny brush!!"
"Incredible...! Three nights soaking in demon enzyme bleach couldn't lift Her Majesty's stubborn skin oils, yet one pass restores factory brilliance!"
"And finally—Holy Sunlight Simulation! Hmph... a formidable cursed artifact, yet helpless before Total Laundering Perfection!"
As golden motes faded, Leon triumphantly lifted the pristine, cloud-soft strawberry bra toward the vaulted ceiling. Then he pinched the tiny white care tag stitched along the side wing, squinting closely through his loupe.
"Wait—look at this cipher stitched inside: 'I-70'! No doubt 'Ifrit Curse: Rank 70'! Worry not, Demon Lord—the hex has been thoroughly exorcised!"
Crack.
Time itself froze solid. Every trace of air drained from Noelle's chest as scarlet flushed from her cheeks to the very tips of her pointed ears.
"...I... Ifrit...?" she whispered through trembling lips.
"Indeed! No matter how fiery the demon hex, I have completely conquered 'I-70'! It shall never burst forth again!"
Snap went the final thread of Noelle's sanity. Slamming both hands over her face, she unleashed a scream amplified by every ounce of royal demon mana in her lungs.
"ENOUGH ALREADY!! IT'S NOT AN IFRIT CURSE—IT'S MY BRA SIZE!!"
The heartbroken shriek shattered nearby stained glass, drowning out the distant thunder and echoing mercilessly off the obsidian rafters—I-70, cup and band alike, announced cleanly for all demonkind to hear.
(I said it... I actually just shouted my exact cup and band measurements at the Hero in my own throne room...)
Chapter 4: The Cleanest Peace Treaty in History
Silence.
Leon froze like a rusted tin knight.
"...B-bra...? Measurements...? Of the... Demon Lord...?"
His sapphire eyes darted in sheer panic between the soft, warm pink silk resting gently in his gloved fingers and Noelle's weeping, trembling frame struggling to hold down her overflowing black dress.
"Wait... then the fragrance I inhaled deep into my lungs earlier... was the Demon Lord's own scent?! And the shadow-stain I painstakingly brushed away with horsehair bristles... was sweat from her... cleavage?!"
Extreme germaphobia collided head-on with hopelessly pure chivalry inside Leon's skull.
POOF!
Twin crimson fountains erupted straight from Leon's nostrils. Rolling his eyes white, the silver-armored Hero collapsed backward onto the flagstones with a thunderous clatter of plate armor.
"F-forgive me! What unholy, shameless indecency have I committed! Sniffing and scrubbing a maiden's underthings betrays every vow of knighthood! I shall perform seppuku at once to atone!"
Flailing on the floor with a bloody nose, Leon fumbled blindly for his belt dagger.
Meanwhile, right beside him, Noelle had already scooped her beloved strawberry bra off the ironing board and hugged the silky cups tight against her cheek in pure bliss.
"...Lace that felt like sandpaper only minutes ago is softer than newborn clouds... ♥ Even the fabric softener scent is blooming cleanly without cloying! Hero Leon—just how terrifyingly skilled a master of Domestic Magic are you?!"
Overcome by pure comfort, embarrassment melted rapidly into ecstatic reverence. Behind her, Jill dabbed tears of joy with the corner of his pink apron before clamping trunk-like dragon arms around Leon's flailing shoulders.
"Demon Lord! We must never let this man return to the human realm! Who else can rescue our castle's moldy bathroom tiles and the towering mountain of delicates piling up in Your Majesty's chambers?!"
Stirred by Jill's desperate counsel, Noelle tucked her prized bra behind her back, cleared her throat regally, and looked down at Leon with gleaming crimson eyes.
"Hero Leon! Laying bare hands upon my Secret Restraint—and learning classified top-and-underband state secrets—is a crime worthy of ten thousand deaths!"
"Urgh... a death sentence indeed! I offer no excuse; take my head cleanly!"
As Leon stretched his neck out with tragic dignity, Noelle pointed a sharp white fingernail squarely at his nose.
"I shall NOT let you die! If you value your life, you are hereby sentenced to life imprisonment within Demon Castle—as my exclusive Holy-Attribute Laundry Knight!"
"...Your exclusive Laundry Knight?!"
Leon froze, wiping his nose casually across the back of one glove. Looking back up, his eagle eyes spotted a single speck of dust and a careless crease clinging to the hem of Noelle's rumpled black dress.
His brow twitched violently. Instinctive germaphobia obliterated knightly shame in half a second. Springing upright, he leveled the cordless steam iron like a radiant broadsword.
"Tch... all for world peace and eradicating your castle's appalling sanitation standards! Very well—I accept this grueling sentence! Start by taking off that wrinkled, dust-ridden dress right now! I shall steam-press every seam down to the lining!"
Pssshhh! Steam hissed warningly as Leon marched forward. Grabbing her neckline again, Noelle scrambled straight backward up the throne steps.
"W-why are you ordering me to strip right here?! I told you I have nothing on underneath!! You really ARE just a total pervert after all!!"
Thus, between a shrieking Demon Lord and a furiously steaming Hero, centuries of bloodshed between humans and demons ended in the cleanest, most shameless truce the world had ever known.
