Reincarnated as a Princess's Pet: With Trash Stats, but SSS-Rank Skill

The imps moved in unison. They leapt forward, knives in hand. Wide grins. Glowing eyes. Straight at the group.

"Watch out!" Dorian managed to shout.

But Moon had already stepped ahead. She raised both hands. The air around her began to move—then exploded.

A gust of wind shot up the stairs, sweeping the imps mid-jump. Their small bodies slammed against the walls, against the steps, bouncing off one another.

"Get lost!" Moon shouted, puffing her cheeks.

Abby didn’t hesitate. She raised both hands. Her index fingers glowed—and fired.

Fireballs shot out like projectiles, traveling up and down the staircase, striking the imps as they tried to get back up.

Short explosions. Screams. Chaos.

But in the middle of it all, Lamia was already moving. She spun on her heel—and vanished up the stairs.

Max clicked his tongue.

"Shit."

He watched her go. No time. He turned slightly.

"Neros!"

The demon looked at him.

"Please, throw me to the top of the stairs—over that group of imps."

Neros smiled. He liked the plan.

"I like the way you think, boy."

Vimel stepped forward.

"I’m coming with you."

Varis adjusted his gloves.

"I’ll join you too."

Sophie was already pulling something out of her bag. She handed it to Max.

"Max, take this."

A small bundle, filled with different kinds of magic seals.

"...just in case you need them."

Max grabbed it without looking.

"Thanks, Sophie."

He got into position. Neros bent his knees.

"Hold on tight."

Max placed one foot on his hands. A push—and he was launched. He flew over the imps scattered across the stairs.

Meanwhile, Vimel and Varis advanced up the staircase like a wedge. Their blows weren’t precise—but they were brutal. Pushing, deflecting, breaking the imps’ formation to open a path.

Max landed in the hallway. Rolled. Got up without stopping. Ran.

The echo of his footsteps thundered as he chased Lamia’s silhouette in the distance.

He tightened his grip on the bag. Opened it while running. Dozens of seals. Different symbols. Different inks. His eyes moved fast, searching for one he could use right now.

Until he found one.

"Boost."

He didn’t hesitate. Ran his fingers over the ink. Activated it. The effect was immediate.

His legs exploded with speed. The hallway shrank. Shorter. Shorter. Each step brought him closer.

But his mind...

Wasn’t on the chase. It was somewhere else. Azael’s whistle.

’It’s for Dante.’

That’s what they told him.

’For when you face the real Dante.’

He clenched his jaw. Looked ahead. Lamia was getting closer to the door.

’But if she poisons her...’

His gaze hardened.

’If she kills Azael’s wife...’

There would be nothing left to save.

He exhaled. Short. Decisive. Reached into his pocket. Pulled out the whistle. Without hesitating, he blew it.

A sharp sound cut through the hallway air.

And he kept running. Reached the end. Just in time.

Lamia stood before the door. Her hand already on the knob. Turning it.

"NO!"

Max’s voice exploded through the hallway.

"Don’t do it!"

Lamia didn’t stop. But her smile widened slightly.

"...you got here pretty fast."

Her body began to blur.

Violet smoke poured from her feet. Thick. Dense. Rising like a tide that devoured her from below. In seconds, it covered her completely. The same smoke she had used before to protect them from the guards.

Max didn’t hesitate. He reached into the bag. Pulled out a fireball seal.

Ran his fingers over the ink—and threw it.

The seal cut through the air and exploded into a violent blaze right where the violet cloud began.

The hallway lit up. Heat slammed against the walls, scorching the paintings.

But the mist didn’t disperse. And Lamia was still there. Unharmed.

The succubus’ voice came from within the smoke—calm. Soft.

"...I truly don’t understand."

The fog rippled.

"Why do you want to stop my plan of revenge?"

Her silhouette began to form again.

"You don’t know those women. You owe them nothing. They have nothing to do with you."

Max clenched his teeth.

"That doesn’t matter."

He stepped forward, holding her gaze.

"They’re innocent. They didn’t kill your daughter. They didn’t take her away from you."

Pause.

"If you want revenge... then you should go after Dante."

The smoke slowly faded. Lamia emerged. Her eyes... empty.

"...no." 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Her voice was low. But filled with anger.

"I want him to suffer."

She took a step toward him.

"Slowly."

Another.

A pair of massive, dark scissors appeared in her hands.

"If I take away what he values most..."

She smiled.

"I’ll be satisfied."

Max snapped his fingers.

Two magic circles opened at his sides. From them emerged skeletal knights, armed with rusted swords and cracked shields. Their eyes glowed with a faint fire.

"Stop her."

The skeletons advanced in unison.

Lamia didn’t even slow down. She sighed.

The scissors opened—and came down.

A clean cut passed through both. Their bodies split in halves, collapsing before they could even raise their weapons.

Bones clattered against the ground.

Max clenched his teeth.

"...seriously?"

He clicked his tongue.

"They didn’t even last a second."

Lamia vanished in a blink.

Nothing.

Then—she appeared right in front of him. The scissors came down, straight toward his torso, aiming to cut him in half.

CLANG.

The impact rang through the hallway.

Max didn’t move. The blade had struck his invisible adamantine armor. The damage didn’t affect his HP, thanks to its enhanced effect.

Lamia frowned slightly. Surprised.

That instant was enough. Max twisted his body and brought his hammer down in a clean strike—straight at her face.

The blow passed right through Lamia. No resistance. No weight.

Her figure dissolved into violet smoke.

The hammer slammed into the wall.

The mist slowly dispersed.

Max stood still for a few seconds, processing the situation.

"...it was a smoke clone."

Then the fog vanished completely—and he saw it.

The door to the room was open.

His heart raced.

"No! Damn it!"

He broke into a run toward the room—without thinking. Without stopping.

And rushed down the hallway to the entrance—completely desperate.