Digital Emperor (Naruto X Digimon)

As Naruto disappeared into the distance, Morrigan returned to the manor, her calm demeanor masking the energy that still hummed faintly through her. However, as she made her way through the halls, she was abruptly stopped by an angry Hilda, who stood with her green eyes blazing, an umbrella blade pressed firmly against Morrigan's neck.

"What were you doing inside the young master's room?" Hilda demanded, her voice tight with anger.

Morrigan, ever composed, smirked at the younger woman's reaction. She tilted her head slightly, golden strands of her hair catching the light, and chuckled softly. "Well, well, Hilda. Isn't this a rare sight? The ever-sassy maid, truly angry? I must say, it suits you."

"Answer me," Hilda snapped, her grip on the umbrella tightening. "What did you do in his room?"

Morrigan's smirk widened, her teasing nature kicking into full gear. "Oh, I simply went because the master asked for me," she said, her tone dripping with mischief. "And yes, it's for exactly what you're imagining. Our dear master isn't as innocent as you think." She licked her lips playfully, her expression suggestive, as though recalling a particularly delicious memory.

Hilda's jaw tightened, her confusion and frustration evident. The young maid, who prided herself on her calm and sarcastic nature, found herself unraveling. She couldn't reconcile the image of Naruto, the man she respected and served, with Morrigan's insinuations. Rika or Hikari made sense to her, but Morrigan? It didn't add up.

"What nonsense are you spouting?" she muttered, her tone laced with disbelief.

Morrigan leaned back against the wall casually, though her golden eyes gleamed with amusement. "Oh, it's not nonsense, dear. But don't get your knickers in a twist—it was nothing too wild. Just... a little energy exchange. A kiss, really. Though, if I had my way, things might have gotten more... exciting."

"Explain. Properly," Hilda commanded, her voice low and dangerous. Her umbrella blade pressed slightly harder against Morrigan's neck, though it didn't break the skin.

Morrigan raised her hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, calm your fiery spirit," she said with a light laugh. "The master noticed I was low on energy, and he kindly helped me replenish it. That's all. A kiss was involved, yes, but nothing beyond that. He's far too guarded for any 'fun episodes,' as you put it."

Hilda's glare didn't waver, though some of the tension in her shoulders eased. She didn't lower her weapon just yet, still trying to process Morrigan's words. Her life had been a battlefield since birth, and trust didn't come easily to her. Naruto had always been different, though—a steady force in a chaotic world. She couldn't stomach the idea of him being frivolous or careless.

"And this... energy exchange?" Hilda asked after a long pause. "Why didn't he ask me or someone else?"

Morrigan shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe he thought I needed it most. Or maybe," she added with a teasing smile, "he just finds me irresistible. But don't worry, Hilda. If you're so concerned, why don't you march into his room and ask for your own kiss?"

Hilda's grip tightened momentarily before she let out a sharp exhale. She finally lowered the blade and stepped back. "Keep your vulgar ideas to yourself, Morrigan. If you're lying or trying to manipulate the situation, you'll regret it."

Morrigan's smile softened, and for a brief moment, the teasing facade dropped. "Relax, Hilda. I'd never do anything to harm our master—or you, for that matter. You're like a little sister to me, even if you don't want to admit it. And I do mean what I said. If you want clarity, ask Naruto yourself. He'll never lie to you."

Hilda stared at her for a moment longer before nodding curtly. "Fine. But if I find out you're hiding something..." She let the threat hang in the air.

"Ah, Hilda," Morrigan murmured to herself, her tone affectionate despite the tension. "So fiery. No wonder he keeps you around."

Hilda's thoughts spiraled into turmoil as she stood in her room, her grip still tight on the umbrella blade. She couldn't understand what Morrigan was hinting at. Naruto, her master, was someone she respected deeply. He had prospects, people like Rika and Hikari—bright, talented, strong-willed women who fit seamlessly into his life. So why Morrigan? What made her the exception?

Her usually sharp and sarcastic mind struggled to grasp the reasoning, a storm of emotions building beneath her composed exterior. It wasn't jealousy or anger—it was confusion. Naruto had always struck her as deliberate and considerate, someone who chose his actions carefully. If what Morrigan said was true, what did it mean?

Hilda wasn't one to let herself get flustered, but this was different.

Her mind wandered back to the origins of her guarded nature. She hadn't always been the calm and witty person the other maids knew. Her life had been shaped by pain, loss, and a monster's twisted game.

She was born of an unholy union—a descendant of the demon lord of gluttony, Beelzemon. Her lineage wasn't noble or heroic; it was a dark tale of cruelty and destruction. One of Beelzemon's relatives, a powerful and savage Digimon, had violated a human woman, leading to Hilda's birth.

Her mother had loved her, even in the few moments they'd shared. Hilda's first memory—burned into her mind like a cursed brand—was her father, a Matadormon, killing her mother moments after she was born. The sight of her mother's adoring eyes, full of love despite the pain and betrayal, was the last thing she saw before the monster turned to her.

The Matadormon had smiled, not with malice, but with twisted amusement. It was a game to him. A cruel, horrifying game.

"Come and get me, child, if you can survive," he had taunted, his voice echoing like a dark melody.

Matadormon wasn't just any Digimon. It was an undead vampire and a bloodthirsty martial artist, known for its deceptive beauty and deadly skill. Stories said it was born from the folk-dance database of an ancient museum, but its elegance masked its thirst for carnage. Matadormon didn't kill indiscriminately; it sought out only the strong, feeding on their blood and discarding the rest.

From that day forward, Hilda had been haunted by two things: the memory of her mother's love and the challenge issued by the monster who had taken her life. The Matadormon had programmed the memory into her mind, replaying it like a twisted video whenever she desired—or when her nightmares demanded it.

She had spent her life chasing that challenge, training herself to be stronger, faster, more capable. At 23, she had already achieved the rank of B-Rank Tamer—a testament to her relentless determination. No one who challenged Hilda survived.

Yet, despite her strength, her resolve wavered now. Not because of her past or her quest for vengeance, but because of Naruto.

Why? Why did this decision of his stir her so deeply?

Hilda's patience wore thin as she listened to Morrigan's carefree attitude. The mention of Naruto's guarded nature caught her attention more than anything else. Morrigan was often playful and irreverent, but when it came to the New Type maids, the seriousness of Roberta—the daughter of Myotismon—stood in stark contrast to Morrigan's relaxed manner. Roberta was the only one among them who ever seemed truly serious, and her steadiness had earned her Hilda's respect.

But now, Hilda found herself lost in thought, her mind drawn back to Naruto. It wasn't like her to let her emotions get the best of her, yet he was different. He made her feel things she hadn't experienced before. What was it about him? She had never really been able to determine who Naruto would end up with—Rika or Hikari were good choices, each one strong, capable, and undeniably loyal to him. But deep down, Hilda wanted to be there too.

She had started as a maid out of obligation, wanting to repay a favor, but over time, something shifted. Her feelings for Naruto had grown stronger, her admiration for him blossoming into affection. He was everything she wanted in a partner, and she realized she hadn't met anyone like him before.

But the reality of it all stung. She couldn't just have him—not in the way she dreamed. The idea of being one of the maids who secretly slept with their master crossed her mind more than once, and the thought made her blush with both shame and excitement. Those fantasies, perverse as they were, felt like the only route she could take.

Still, she couldn't shake the newfound hope that Naruto's willingness to accept anyone—Rika, Hikari, or even someone like her—wasn't a rejection of her feelings. It was a spark, a glimmer of possibility in a sea of uncertainty.

Before Hilda could voice her thoughts, a voice interrupted, loud and sharp. "Are you serious?!"

From the side of the room, Rory Mercury—known as the berserker maid or Rory the Reaper—stepped forward, her black dress swishing with every movement. Hilda hadn't noticed her hiding in the clothing room, but it was clear that Rory had been waiting for this moment. She had likely sensed the tension between Hilda and Morrigan and couldn't resist joining the conversation.

Rory's appearance was almost surreal, an eternal 16-year-old with dark, flowing black hair adorned with a red and black ribbon. Her gothic Lolita attire, a black dress with red frills, black stockings with garters, and red boots, gave her an almost ethereal presence. But it was the massive purplish axe slung over her shoulder that made her more than just an innocent-looking girl. Rory was a force to be reckoned with, and though she wore a young girl's appearance, there was nothing childish about her demeanor.

Rory's presence filled the room with an almost tangible weight, her intense gaze shifting between Hilda and Morrigan. She knew exactly what they were discussing—Rory was the daughter of NeoDevimon, a powerful Digimon linked to Daemon, and she understood the implications of human and Digimon interactions more than anyone else in the room.

Hilda, caught off guard by her sudden appearance, shot her a stern glance. "What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to regain control of the situation.

The atmosphere in the room was tense as the tension between the maids simmered. Morrigan and Rory, despite their vastly different personalities, had an ongoing rivalry that occasionally played out in front of Hilda. The playful teasing that Morrigan used to get under Hilda's skin now seemed to be a mere prelude to something much more serious.

Rory, the berserker, was far more complex than her carefree, teasing demeanor suggested. A girl who thrived on violence and reveled in the chaos of battle, Rory was unpredictable. Her sweet, friendly persona was a stark contrast to the ferocity and sadism she showed when in the heat of combat. Those who witnessed her fight would be shocked to see the twisted satisfaction on her face, a stark contrast to her usual, more composed self.

It was clear that Naruto's fighting style had caught her attention. She admired his ability to push limits, and she recognized something in him that mirrored her own darker impulses. When he fought for too long, a similar transformation took place in him, and Rory had seen this firsthand. She had sensed the thrill Naruto got from combat—the way his kind nature slipped away and left only a sadistic joy in its wake.

This had drawn Rory in, making her more determined to have him for herself. She had become obsessed, to the point of tying him to a bed in an attempt to force him to submit to her. However, she was no fool. Her pride and jealousy often collided with her desire. She had been holding back, trying to convince herself that forcing him into anything was out of the question, especially given her position as a maid who owed the Uzumaki family so much.

But the more she watched him interact with the other girls, especially Rika and Hikari, the more those feelings of jealousy and desire became harder to suppress. She had tried to convince herself that she had no place in his world, but now that she knew he was willing to accept their affections—willing to share—Rory's heart raced with excitement. It meant she could finally pursue him openly, without the guilt of disrespecting him or overstepping her bounds.

"What are you doing, Rory?" Hilda asked, her voice tinged with disbelief as she turned to face her younger sister.

Rory simply smiled, a playful glint in her eyes. "Hehe, I was waiting for you, but you guys surprised me by barging in suddenly," she replied, her expression one of innocent amusement. Her eyes then flicked to Morrigan. "But you seem to have more to say."

Hilda was about to respond, ready to lecture Rory on her inability to respect personal space, but before she could, Morrigan spoke up in a teasing tone. "Hello, little sister. I heard you've been trying to bed our young master for so long. How does it feel?"

Hilda immediately moved between the two, ready to prevent a full-blown confrontation. "Morrigan, stop antagonizing Rory and answer the question," she said, her voice calm but firm.

Rory, however, was unbothered by Morrigan's jabs. She tilted her head, a smirk playing on her lips. "I feel the need to do better. No matter what, he'll love me more than he'll ever love you. That is the truth," she said with absolute confidence, her eyes shining with determination.

Hilda's fingers twitched as if she wanted to call Roberta in to calm the situation, but before she could, Morrigan's voice cut through the tension. "Hahaha, oh, is that a challenge I hear? A challenge about love from a berserker? Sounds funny, doesn't it?"

Rory's smirk didn't falter. "I am the berserker of love, while you are a succubus. So go on and take the challenge, but before that, clear away our doubts."

Hilda's brow furrowed as she looked between the two of them, trying to prevent things from escalating. Rory was clearly not backing down, and Morrigan, as usual, wasn't one to shy away from a challenge. But the look in Rory's eyes suggested something deeper—a desire to prove herself in a way that wasn't just about love, but about power and dominance.

Morrigan, knowing Rory wouldn't let her off easy, reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, swiping through it with a practiced hand before bringing up a video. She showed it to both Hilda and Rory, the footage from a recent encounter: Naruto in the bath, surrounded by her and Eve.

"This should clear away your doubts," Morrigan said, her voice smooth but carrying an edge of finality.

The video flashed across the screen, and both Hilda and Rory were taken aback by what they saw. Despite the video being casual in nature, with no overt signs of sexual intimacy, the implication was clear—Naruto wasn't as innocent as some of them had believed. The sight of him in such close quarters with Morrigan and Eve was a subtle reminder that he, too, was capable of exploring relationships outside the traditional confines.

For a moment, there was silence in the room. Hilda's face grew pale, her thoughts clouded with a mix of emotions—concern, jealousy, and maybe a touch of shame. Rory, however, didn't seem shaken at all. Instead, she gave Morrigan a knowing glance, her confidence only growing.

"Well then," Rory said, her voice laced with a new level of determination. "Let the games begin."

Hilda stood still, caught in the middle of the brewing storm between the two women. She knew things were about to get much more complicated.