The bathwater steamed gently as Lilith sunk lower into the tub, letting the heat wash the sticky dungeon muck from her skin—and the crawling trauma from her soul.
Her limbs floated like noodles. Her cheeks, pink from steam, puffed slightly as she blew bubbles toward the surface.
"Zone Three is cursed. I was not built for crawling horrors and goo warfare."
She stared at the ceiling with the look of a soldier who survived a war.
Still, she smiled a little. A warm bath, clean hair, D-rank badge… not bad.
After scrubbing herself raw and dressing in one of her soft tunics, Lilith joined her family at the lunch table.
Everyone had clearly been waiting.
Luca waved both hands like he was summoning a spirit. "The brave warrior returns from the slime pits of hell!"
Ren raised his teacup. "To our very own trauma champion."
"D-rank trauma champion," Lilith corrected, smirking.
Even Gareth cracked a faint, approving nod.
They ate together—vegetable stew, soft bread, spiced roasted fowl, and even honeyed carrots that Luca claimed were 'guilt-free sweets.' For once, Lilith wasn't ravenous. The bath had drained her. The laughter had softened her.
After lunch, she padded upstairs and collapsed onto her bed like a ragdoll, her battle bear gear tossed neatly to the side.
The sunlight filtering through her curtains bathed the room in a gentle glow. She buried her face into her pillow and mumbled:
[Time Skip – 1 hour later]
A tiny fist banged on her door.
"Big sis!! The TRB people are here!"
Lilith blinked awake, hair tousled, cheeks squished against her pillow.
"Come down! They're waiting in the drawing room!"
Shit—TRB. Tribute Bureau. Officials. Paperwork. Mating requests. Future sex forms. I'm not ready—!
She rolled off the bed in a tangle of limbs and blankets, rushing toward her vanity.
Lilith descended the staircase slowly, her hair tied back in a soft braid, a velvet-blue tunic hugging her frame with enough elegance to satisfy both formality and vanity. Every step reminded her this wasn't a hunt or a dungeon dive.
This was the state asking, "So who do you want to f*ck?"
When she entered the Elric drawing room, two strangers stood up in unison.
Both were dressed in fine obsidian-tailored suits bearing the golden sigil of the TRB—a woven flame and laurel branch. One was a woman in her forties, tall and sharp-eyed. The other, a slightly younger man with a tidy mustache and folders tucked beneath his arm.
"Lady Lilith Elric," the woman greeted with a nod. "We are here on behalf of the Tribute & Reproduction Bureau, Windvale Branch. I am Registrar Celna, and this is Scribe Elmar."
Elmar gave a polite bow. "It's an honor to assist your formal entry into the National Tribute Registry."
Why does that sound like I'm signing up for mandatory sex taxes?
Lilith gave a half-curtsey, awkward but genuine. "Welcome to House Elric. Shall we sit?"
This is my first time seeing a woman other than me. She must be a f*ucking expert to get in the position.
They settled around the low polished table. Elmar opened a silver-trimmed notebook; Celna placed a strange crystalline device at the center—it glowed faintly and hummed with magic.
Celna began smoothly.
"The Tribute System, as you know, is how the realm ensures continued magical lineage and population balance. You are now eligible to accept mating requests, or tributes, from registered men."
"Each request," Elmar added, "comes with a tribute fee, submitted by the applicant. The fee varies by status."
He handed her a printed chart:
Standard Tribute Fees:
• Commoners – 10,000 Narr
• Merchants, Low Nobles, B-Rank Adventurers – 20,000 Narr
• High Nobles, A-Rank Adventurers – 35,000 Narr
Gareth quietly sipped his tea behind the partition. Ren and Julian leaned in from a crack in the door like kids watching a parade.
Celna continued. "Most of the fee goes to you. A minor portion is used for maintenance and security. You'll be assigned a personal chamber and a unit of Iron Vow knights."
"Which sounds cooler than it is," Elmar added. "They mostly stand around and keep the creeps away."
Lilith nodded slowly. "So I don't just get summoned randomly?"
Celna smirked. "No. You hold all control. We forward profiles to you. You may approve, delay, or reject them."
"Now," she went on, "we must conduct a brief scan for registry records."
The crystal device emitted a low chime as Elmar held out a rune-scribed wand.
Lilith stood as Elmar waved a glowing wand over her body. The crystal at the table hummed.
“Physical condition: Excellent. Mana: Average but steady. Charm… exceptionally high. Libido: Stabilized.”
Julian spilled his tea.
Gareth calmly asked, “What does ‘stabilized’ entail?”
Celna didn’t flinch. “That means her physical desires are in control.”
Lilith sat down with the air of a queen.
That’s right. I’m dangerously charming and legally horny.
Lilith sat back down with a proud little tilt of her chin.
"Now comes the frequency setting," Celna said. "Standard is three mating sessions per week. You may opt for fewer, but less than two slows the regional contribution flow. Most rookies start at two and scale up."
Lilith nodded, suddenly serious. "Let's begin with two a week."
"Understood. Which days of the week will be most convenient?"
She thought for a second. "Sundays and Wednesdays. Gives me room for dungeon days in between."
Celna tapped the update rune. "Okay, Confirmed."
Elmar turned a page. "Finally, do you wish to declare preference filters for applicants? These are optional, but will affect what kinds of requests are forwarded."
Lilith smiled like a cat.
“★ No one over 50. If I have to use oil to get him moving, I’m out.”
Julian coughed violently.
“★ Strong or skilled only. No couch goblins. No ‘trying my best’ energy.”
Ren muttered, “That rules out half the kingdom.”
“★ No fat pigs unless they’re packing a god-tier wand. I’m not carrying lard for free.”
Luca whispered, “What’s a wand?”
Julian hissed, “Shh!”
“★ Boys under 21 get a 20% discount.”
Celna blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Youth empowerment,” Lilith said brightly. “Support the shy.”
“★ Strong adventurers, elite mages, and real warriors get priority placement.”
Gareth frowned. “Are we running a battlefield?”
“★ 10% virgin discount,” Lilith finished with a wink. “We all start somewhere.”
From the next room, Luca’s voice piped up, high and curious:
Elmar choked on his ink quill.
Ren snorted so hard his tea nearly came out his nose.
Gareth—Father Elric—pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Luca,” he said slowly, “go play in the garden.”
“But I’m in the middle of learn—!”
Luca pouted audibly, footsteps stomping away with exaggerated rebellion.
Elmar stopped writing.
Ren covered his face, laughing.
Celna cleared her throat. “You are… remarkably clear about your expectations.”
Lilith folded her hands. “If I’m going to be a pillar of national duty, I want premium bricks.”
Elmar scribbled “...filters: intense, vivid, socially alarming.”
Celna stood. “Your preferences will be implemented. Expect your first filtered batch within two days.”
Lilith took her hand and smiled. "Looking forward to it."
As the TRB officials exited, even Gareth had to mutter:
Lilith only grinned. "Think of it as… social welfare."
[Sorry this chapter may not be very good. I'm going through college exams.]
Non-canon filler: The previous owner of the body has now become a yokai and came to haunt me and she has something to say to you all.
❝Hmph. If you think I care whether you liked it or not... you’re right. So press the damn ❤️ already!❞