Volume 3 Chapter 154 Playful Moments In The Small Room
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The room assigned to Kian was one of the guest chambers located in the eastern wing of the temple’s right side.
The guest rooms varied widely in size, ranging from barely large enough for a single person to lie down, to others spacious enough to accommodate around five people together. No one knew exactly how long ago the temple had been built, but it was clear it dated back to an era when social hierarchy was strictly observed—nobles were assigned the largest and most comfortable rooms, while their attendants were given much smaller quarters.
Alternatively, the largest rooms might have served as communal living spaces for attendants, while those of higher rank were allocated medium-sized rooms.
In total, there were twenty guest rooms of various sizes. Ten medium-sized rooms were reserved for those who had been injured or fallen ill while escaping from Jibril. The large rooms each housed three elderly servants, though some remained empty. Female guest rooms were assigned separately to the temple’s right wing. The final large room, situated at the far end of the corridor, was reserved for Yelmar, who had contributed the greatest number of warriors. This room, positioned at the corner, frequently became a gathering place where female Wolfmen warriors came and went, often spending nights together within its walls.
From his position in the finest corner room, Kian could faintly hear Yelmar and the Wolfmen women exchanging sounds in the opposite chamber. Curiosity led him to approach that small room directly across the hall.
Originally, Kian had been assigned a medium-sized room, but he gave it up to a very elderly warrior monk who had fallen gravely ill due to the harsh Nordende cold.
Since he planned to visit Sarah’s room and Linca’s cave repeatedly, he assumed he wouldn’t need his own room until the end of their journey. Yet here he was, stepping into it for the first time.
”Ohh, ohh, uhoo! Fooooh, that feels amazing! Hey, hey, double strike—p*nis attack!”
”Ah, Yelmar, that’s not fair♡”
”Don’t tease my butt♡”
”Can I rub my tail too?♡”
”Punching with fists is the best♡”
(What must the elderly in the neighboring rooms think, hearing these playful voices? Do they find it embarrassing, or perhaps arousing?)
Kian knelt to enter through the low doorway and closed the door softly behind him. Until now, he had only heard faint noises from afar, but the sounds from the opposite room were surprisingly loud. There were no explicit sounds, but occasional strained, forcefully swallowed breaths—”ugh♡” or “guh♡”—that resembled someone choking or gasping, echoed repeatedly.
The lack of complaints from the neighboring rooms suggested the elderly either indulged quietly in their own fantasies without audible signs, or had arranged some kind of sound barrier to block out the noise. Given their ascetic lifestyles, the latter seemed more likely. The truth, however, would probably remain a mystery forever. Perhaps that was for the best.
After locking the door behind him, Kian’s gaze fell to the rocky bed on the left side, flanked closely by a small rocky desk. The bed measured about four meters long and three meters wide but felt cramped enough to resemble a solitary confinement cell.
The bed was covered in a thin layer of hay and neatly folded white sheets. Using his magic ability, ‘Silver Ice,’ Kian warmed the hay by releasing hot air, then spread the sheets to prepare a makeshift bed. There was no blanket. A small window—or rather, an air hole—allowed the cold mountain wind to seep in, chilling his cheeks.
He removed the magic and stuffed the rag he had prepared into the air hole, blocking the draft. He had made similar improvised arrangements countless times during his long years of poverty up until three months ago. Instead of feeling sad, a wave of nostalgia washed over him, and he smiled faintly.
”Well then. I suppose I’ll rest for about five hours until sunrise.”
”Before that, shall we freshen up? I feel sticky and uncomfortable after today’s training.”
”That’s true. But there’s no bath, and no hot water…────!?”
Startled by the calm female voice speaking from behind, Kian jumped and instinctively drew his Misty Magic Sword.
Despite the cramped room, the blade was pointed directly at the neck of a black-haired woman—Linca—who sat calmly at the edge of the bed.
”…Linca?”
”Who else would it be? Please sheath that Misty Magic Sword quickly.”
”Ah, ah, sorry. It was just a reflex.”
”Good reflex. But if I were an assassin, you’d be dead by now, Sir Kian. You seem too relaxed.”
”Cut me some slack. The noise from the opposite room was so loud, I didn’t sense anything. Even a Wolfman wouldn’t detect your approach with your ability to erase your presence using ‘Penetration’.”
”Hehehe. Yelmar and the others certainly know how to be lively.”
”They must do this every night. It’s surprising no one’s complained.”
”Maybe they’re using it as entertainment? I can hear the young girls’ playful voices! Yay, rub, rub~.”
”That’s a bit blunt. The elders would be angry.”
”Hahaha.”
Linca laughed in a way that didn’t quite suit her elegant face. Kian felt certain she had no hostile intent and finally sheathed his Misty Magic Sword. Even with absolute command over her, caution remained necessary.
He noticed Linca watching his movements closely with her dark eyes as he leaned the sword against the wall.
Only then did he realize she was no longer wearing her earlier black Eastern dress and white shawl, but instead a simple white dress similar to Sarah’s. She was barefoot, and her pale ankles touched the cold stone floor.
”Please remove the cloth stuffed in the air hole.”
Linca summoned the head of a white serpent from an alternate space above the bed. As she slid her hand into its mouth, she instructed it to spit out a bucket, cloth, soap, and a beautifully patterned blanket. Once the items were expelled, she sealed the serpent back into the alternate space with her spell. The serpent seemed reluctant to go, as if saddened by the confinement.
”I agree with purifying the body, but it’s better not to have done ‘those’. Sarah will definitely find out later.”
”Is it really so bad if she finds out?”
”It’s not good. Did you see how angry Sarah was this afternoon? Aside from her magic power, she’s done so much for me. During intimacy, I ended up telling her ‘I love you.’”
”So that’s how you tied her to you, huh? I never would’ve guessed, but even you, Sir Kian, are quite the warrior monk.”
”What do you mean?”
”You’re skilled at using ‘man’ as a weapon to control women.”
Linca shot him a sharp glare, but it quickly softened into her usual smile.
”To say ‘I love you’ during a magic exchange… that’s cruel.”
”She’s an important childhood friend. I love her.”
”And you say that to me?”
”────”
”When we’re together, you don’t absorb any magic power, right? Why is that?”
”That’s because──”
If he absorbed magic from Linca, Sarah would find out. Yet Linca seemed to understand something different and smiled as if she could see through Kian’s thoughts. Before he could get annoyed, she withdrew her smile and changed her tone as she pressed the bucket toward him.
”Now then, I’ll prepare the water. I’ll wipe you first, then it’ll be your turn to help me.”
”…You’ll purify with ‘Penetration,’ right?”
”If one pursues efficiency too much, their heart becomes impoverished. Using a cloth soaked in hot water to massage the skin provides a sense of mental satisfaction as well.”
Kian thought it made sense to use convenient methods when available, but Linca seemed to perceive drawbacks he couldn’t grasp. He didn’t mind serving her, and since he owed her for the night, he accepted her terms.
”Understood.”
”I look forward to your skills, Sir Kian.”
Linca smiled brightly and leapt onto the hay bed she had been sitting on, a nimble and graceful movement. She spread her arms to balance herself and then hopped to the pillow by the rocky table, sitting down with her legs folded beneath her.
Kian placed the bucket on the table and summoned the white serpent, Mizuchi, once more. The serpent expelled clean water without any foul smell.
He watched as Linca prepared the hot water. Her black hair was worn loose but not thick, with shorter strands framing her cheeks and forehead to keep it out of her face. The rest of her hair fell to the chest area of her white dress, which featured a large open back, giving the impression of a small woven garment.
It seemed she wore nothing beneath the dress. The soft contours of her chest, the line of her abdomen, the curve of her back, and the gentle roundness of her hips were faintly visible. Bathed in a shaft of moonlight filtering through the air hole, Linca looked every bit the captivating ‘female warrior monk.’
From beyond the door, Yelmar’s crude voice echoed with a loud “Uhoh.” Following that, the murmur of several women could be heard, causing Linca, who had been dismissing the white serpent, to burst into laughter.
”What a noisy commotion, heh heh.”
”I wonder what game they’re playing.”
”One against four, right? One hole blocked with that, two with their hands, and the last one probably waiting on the side.”
”Yelmar might be lying down, with the fourth one riding his face. Or perhaps teasing his groin with their feet.”
”Well, your imagination is quite vivid. Or have you, Sir Kian, experienced something like that?”
”No. Renting four prostitutes at once would empty my wallet.”
”In a multiple-to-one situation, it inevitably becomes one serving the many, right? Even in harems, it’s basically one-on-one.”
”Because you can’t impregnate them all equally. Normally, after one round, they’re done.”
”Is that so!? Uh, but… Sir Kian, you never seemed tired and kept going even when I was reluctant.”
Kian shrugged.
”I’m special. My stamina has always been strong.”
”Powerful men like you would make the world envious.”
”Maybe. Or were you unhappy being with me so many times?”
Linca blushed and shook her head.
”Not unhappy, but scared. It felt like I was losing consciousness.”
”Then next time, I’ll pace myself. Only one or two climaxes.”
”That might be painful in its own way.”
Linca gave a faint, embarrassed smile and tugged at the collar of her dress. Her long black hair spilled from the neckline, and in the dim room, her pale skin shone faintly in the light of the nearby magic lamp. She placed it beside the water bucket and wrung out a cloth soaked with warm water.
Then, turning her knees toward Kian, she extended both hands, her cheeks tinged with a soft flush, unable to hide her shyness.
”Sir Kian… will you undress as well?”
”…Yeah.”
The small room was heavy with the scent of sweat — not unpleasant, but strong enough to notice. Kian turned his back to her and calmly began removing his inner garments. As he peeled them off, the muscles of his shoulders and back shifted under the skin.
Behind him, Linca let out a faint breath.
”Then… I’ll begin cleansing you.”
”…Alright.”
The sound of fabric rubbing against skin echoed softly. A warm cloth pressed against the nape of his neck. Linca’s hands moved with steady pressure, as if wiping away the weariness of the day. She worked from behind him, letting the cloth glide over his neck, across his shoulders and upper back, down to his arms.
When she began to rub around his chest, her soft form brushed lightly against his back. Kian’s body reacted instinctively, and he tensed. Her breath warmed his ear, faint but unmistakable.
She dipped the cloth in the bucket again, wringing it out, then resumed, this time without soap, wiping away the lingering foam. A faint, sweet scent, familiar from the past few days, lingered in the air — hers.
”……”
Without saying anything more, Linca carefully moved the cloth across his back again. Sometimes she would gently lift his arm and press into the knots in his muscles, her fingers finding tight spots and easing them with deliberate care. The pain was sharper than he expected, but she adjusted instantly, supporting him and rotating his shoulders gently to relax the tension.
”I used to do this a lot with my friends at the public baths,” she said, kneading his back with her fists. “Though… they never liked it. Said it was too painful.”
”What about Jibril?”
”If I could do something like this with that person,” she said with a wry smile, “I’d probably be part of Vahid’s harem by now.”
”I’m sorry for always asking the same thing. I guess I’m just curious.”
”No, it’s fine. Curiosity is natural. In some regions, being pure is even a requirement for entering a harem.”
She shook out the cloth again and this time rubbed soap along his lower back and stomach. Her hands naturally brushed against him as she worked.
”…!”
”I’m sorry… I think it’s the scent and your breathing.”
”N-no… I won’t lie and say I wasn’t hoping for something like this.”
”I’ve been hearing strange noises from Yelmar’s room, so… it’s hard not to think about things.”
”…Right. But if the envoy from the alliance arrives today, I can’t overdo it. I have to hold back.”
”Didn’t you come here planning to exhaust me?”
”…No.”
After a short pause, Linca admitted softly, “I was just feeling… a little lonely.”
”That’s a cute thing to say.”
”It’s not meant to flatter you,” she replied, turning her gaze downward. “Being alone in the dark like this… it’s unsettling.”
Kian was quiet for a moment, then answered.
”Actually, I felt the same. I thought it might be nice to… stay like this with you until morning.”
He hadn’t meant it seriously, but seeing her reaction — the way her hands trembled slightly as they slid across his skin — made him glad he said it.
”…That makes me happy.”
”……”
(Am I doing something wrong? Making a woman feel this way… But if it brings her comfort — if she smiles — isn’t that a kind of kindness?)
Her hands moved with even more care now. After finishing, she gently poured water over him to rinse off the foam around his abdomen. Her touch was gentle, and warmth bloomed quietly in his chest.
(The monks at the monastery who had many friends were kind people. They always thought about what others needed — spoke and acted in ways that made people feel good. Flattery aside, that kind of sensitivity is probably key to gaining ‘fame.’)
Maybe, just maybe, understanding that was the first step in fixing the strange relationships he had with women.
”I’ll take off my slippers.”
”…Go ahead.”
”…By the way,” Kian began, hesitating. “Could I… ask for a favor?”
”Huh?”
He turned to face her.
”I don’t mean to cross a line. I just… I need help easing this tension. You gave me that marking before, right? Maybe you could use this time to practice using it?”
”…Understood.”
Linca nodded and hung the cloth neatly on the edge of the bucket.
Kneeling upright, she used her arms to cover her chest and lower body, meeting his gaze.
”Then… allow me to encourage you.”
* * *
Linca’s expression softened as she leaned in close, her gaze locked with Kian’s. There was something delicate about the moment—quiet, weightless. When their lips touched, it was gentle, fleeting, and far softer than he had expected. The feeling lingered in his chest, a kind of warmth that spread like ripples on water.
Magic pulsed faintly between them, a sign that the sensation-sharing spell he had etched earlier was active. The faint blue glow on her back shimmered like moonlight caught in motion, proof that the bond was working exactly as intended.
Without words, Linca shifted her position with slow, precise movements, lowering herself gracefully as though guided by instinct. Her actions weren’t rushed or hesitant. Everything she did seemed measured, in sync with the quiet energy that passed between them.
Kian sat still, breathing shallowly, as he watched her. She moved with a kind of quiet focus, like someone trying to hear the subtle changes in a melody only they could perceive. Every motion adjusted slightly, attuned to his reactions. He could feel the connection between them growing stronger with each passing second—an invisible thread pulled tight.
Linca looked up at him with a small, serious smile.
”Please try not to make too much noise,” she whispered. “I’d rather not draw attention.”
”I’ll do my best,” Kian murmured, barely managing a nod.
The room fell into silence once more, save for the occasional creak of fabric and the soft hum of magic. Though no words passed between them, they were in constant communication—through breath, through presence, through the spell that let each understand how the other felt.
Kian’s body tensed momentarily as a sharp pulse of sensation surged through him. Linca noticed immediately. Her movements grew more careful, more precise, like a musician fine-tuning their instrument to produce just the right harmony.
As the moment reached its peak, Kian couldn’t help but release a faint breath, his body sagging slightly with the weight of what had just passed. Linca remained quiet and composed, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she straightened up.
Her eyes shimmered with a curious light, half-teasing, half-thoughtful.
”Looks like that worked,” she said softly.
Kian looked at her, unsure how to respond.
Then she tilted her head and smiled.
”My turn now.”
”Huh? But we just—”
She placed a single finger against his chest, halting his words with a calm and gentle gesture.
”It’s my turn.”
Linca leaned back and pulled a thin blanket around her shoulders before settling against the cool stone wall. Even with the faint light of the magic lamp casting soft shadows across the room, her form seemed to glow with an inner strength.
She sat still for a moment, then shifted her legs slowly—stretching them out, drawing them back, until she found a comfortable position. Her breathing grew a little heavier, but her gaze never left him.
There was no need to explain. Kian already understood.
And so, quietly, respectfully, he leaned forward.
Their fingers brushed. No more words were spoken.
Outside the small stone room, the world remained unaware. But within it, something had changed—subtle, quiet, and lasting.
Notes:
• Linca – Jibril’s favorite girl. High-ranking warrior monk woman from Shin, with strong abilities like ignoring attacks and poisons.
• Mag – The wolfwoman under Yelmar—the one who was caught by Kian’s group earlier.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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