Reincarnated in DxD as Keiba With a Sword Bone

As we reached the grand estate, the massive gates creaked open, revealing an imposing driveway lined with vigilant female bodyguards. The sleek black car moved forward smoothly, past the watchful eyes of dozens of guards. Their disciplined stances and sharp glares hinted at their rigorous training. At the end of the driveway stood the grand entrance to the estate, where a maid in a perfectly pressed uniform awaited us.

The car came to a gentle stop, and the maid quickly stepped forward to open the car door. However, before she could, Sayan exited gracefully and personally pulled the door open for me. I hesitated for a moment, glancing at her with mild exasperation. I could have opened the door myself, but her assertiveness left no room for argument. I sighed inwardly and stepped out, catching the stunned expressions of the maid and the bodyguards nearby.

Their reactions were priceless—wide-eyed, their mouths slightly agape as they tried to process the sight before them. It was almost as if the very fabric of their reality had been shaken. A male? Beside their esteemed madam? And their madam, personally opening the car door for him? The shock in their eyes was evident, and I could almost hear the unsaid whispers about her "tastes."

Sayan, however, remained calm and composed, ignoring their stares as if this was the most natural thing in the world. She strode forward with me by her side, her heels clicking confidently against the marble floor. Inside the grand estate, the decor screamed opulence. The chandeliers hanging from the ceiling glittered like stars, and the walls were adorned with intricate carvings and luxurious tapestries.

Sayan summoned the head maid and the head bodyguard with a simple gesture, her authority unquestionable. Moments later, two women entered the lavish living room where we had settled. Sayan reclined elegantly on a plush, oversized sofa while I sat beside her.

Lisa, the head maid, was a striking beauty with flowing black hair tied neatly behind her, a few strands framing her delicate face. A silver hairpiece glinted under the warm lights, accentuating her graceful demeanor. She carried herself with poise, though her large, expressive eyes betrayed her curiosity.

Beside her stood Mokah, the head bodyguard. In stark contrast to Lisa's refined elegance, Mokah exuded raw strength and confidence. Her blonde hair was tied back in a sleek ponytail, her piercing blue eyes scanning me with a sharp, almost analytical gaze. She had an athletic build, her uniform tailored perfectly to highlight her toned physique. Her foreign features added an exotic allure to her commanding presence.

Sayan gestured to them with a serene smile. "Lisa, Mokah, meet your new master. From now on, you will treat him as you treat me—no, even better than me."

For a moment, there was stunned silence. Both women looked utterly bewildered, their composed facades cracking as they tried to process her words. Mokah was the first to recover, though her voice wavered slightly as she asked, "W-who… is this gentleman, Madam?"

Sayan's lips curled into an amused smile, and she opened her mouth to reply, but I gently raised a hand to stop her. "First," I interrupted with a polite smile, "can we eat? I'm starving."

Sayan's eyes flicked to me, her smile softening. She realized instantly what I was doing. While I, as a devil, didn't need food that urgently that I'd cut her in middle of her 'introduction', I clearly wanted to delay the introductions for now. She didn't press further, simply nodding in understanding.

Mokah seemed to pick up on the subtle exchange and stepped back with a slight bow. "Very well, Sir," she said and gestured for us to follow.

We were soon led to a magnificent dining hall, its grandeur surpassing even my expectations. The room was vast, with vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate frescoes and a massive chandelier casting a golden glow over the space. A long mahogany dining table stretched across the center, polished to perfection and lined with high-backed chairs. Silver cutlery gleamed beside fine china plates, and rows of covered dishes were arranged neatly, exuding tantalizing aromas.

The food was distinctly Western in style—perfectly roasted meats, creamy mashed potatoes, golden-crusted pies, and a variety of colorful salads and sides. Decadent desserts were displayed at the far end of the table, including rich chocolate cakes, fruit tarts, and delicate pastries.

Sayan gestured for me to sit at the head of the table, an action that didn't go unnoticed by Lisa and Mokah. Their expressions hinted at their growing curiosity and unease. Still, they obeyed Sayan's orders without question, their professional demeanor returning as they prepared to serve us.

As I settled into my seat, I couldn't help but smile faintly. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken questions and simmering tension. Whatever came next, it was clear that my presence had already turned this household's world upside down.