Volume 6 Chapter 47 The Roar
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Claws slashed, spraying a fine mist of red.
”Gyaahhh?!” one shrieked.
At their feet, a black sigil seared itself into the stone. From it, conjured bindings shot outward, wrapping around the retreating Mole Soldiers and yanking them back.
”What a pathetic nest of sluggish rats,” the Fox Princess sneered.
The Mole Soldiers were dragged to her like fish on a line. She vaulted to the ceiling, dropped down upon them, and crushed the first flat beneath her heel. Before the rest could recover, she bounded in a blur, circling behind, forcing them to smash their skulls against one another in blind confusion.
”Damn you, dog beastkin! How the hell did you get out of the—”
”Silence.”
She hurled herself straight into the last one, pinning the girl to the ground. Her knee wedged between her thighs, locking her in place. With a savage twist, the fox seized her head and sank her teeth into the exposed neck.
* * *
”…It’s quiet now.”
The din behind him had fallen away. Klock had considered joining, but she’d been irritable enough already and ordered him to wait outside the corridor. The outcome was swifter than he’d expected. She had crippled their movement in the opening gambit, and everything unraveled for them from there.
He would have to reevaluate her. She hadn’t chased blood—she’d ensured none could escape. Containment before carnage. Efficient, precise, and above all, dangerous.
”It’s over,” came the sing-song call.
The Fox Princess leaned casually against the bars, her tail swaying. At her voice, he entered the guard room. Broken furniture lay in ruin—splintered bedframes, smashed shelves, cracked dishes scattered across the stone. The mole women sprawled unconscious across the floor.
”What do you think? Not a single one is dead.”
”…Huh?”
She stood with icy poise, feigning indifference. Her chest still rose and fell, nipples taut with the thrill of battle she tried to mask. She wanted him to see her strength, her restraint, her control.
Klock stepped past the fallen bodies—one slumped over the bed on hands and knees, another collapsed face-first with her rear in the air, another arched like a broken bridge, thighs parted obscenely.
They were left in indecent poses that might have invited defilement from any man, unconscious or dead alike. Women, he thought grimly, never ceased to be weapons of distraction—seductive until age or rot claimed them.
”So? Nothing to say?”
”…Yeah. Good work,” he muttered.
She frowned, unsatisfied, but he pushed on. They had to move. Once the guards downstairs realized what had happened, the rebellion would be exposed. The only chance was to keep their trail untraceable and escape before countermeasures closed in.
”We move fast,” she ordered. “Hide if the guards are many. Kill if they’re few.”
She averted her gaze, displeased, and took point again. Praise would have fed her pride, but not yet—not until they were free. She still owed for what she had done to the wolf princess.
They pressed onward, climbing toward the next guardroom. Third level, by his estimate. Maybe just two more to reach the surface—if they were lucky. He quickened his pace, not running, saving strength for what lay ahead. Her ears twitched, tail bristling, alert to every sound.
Then—
A roar split the air.
They froze, turned together. A woman’s voice, echoing like a scream and a howl, reverberated through the stone halls.
”Move. We need to hide,” she hissed.
”Yeah… bad news.”
”Guards will come running. Maybe from above too.”
Her frown deepened, and she broke into a sprint. Ears flicking wildly, tail stiff, every line of her body screamed alarm. The voice had rattled her—it wasn’t just any inmate. She knew who it belonged to. Fear, old and buried, had bared its teeth.
”Oi. Let’s hole up somewhere. Before it gets worse.”
”…Fine.”
She agreed too quickly, breath coming ragged. Sweat gleamed on her skin though she still had stamina to spare. Like a child after their first theft, panic frayed her composure. For all her cunning, the fox princess lacked the stomach of a true sovereign.
* * *
”Damn leaks,” she muttered, stepping through dripping water.
”Think of it as free drinking water,” Klock said.
They slipped into a dank side cell off a narrow alley. She claimed the scent of countless prisoners filled the surrounding tunnels, but this chamber was nearly empty, its reek faint. Damp stone, rot, and stagnant air pressed in on them.
”We could try to contact the others locked in nearby,” she suggested. “What do you think?”
”We’re too deep in now. Allies aren’t worth the risk. Might stab us in the back the moment it suits them.”
The words pointed at her as much as anyone. She said nothing. Instead, she slumped onto the bed, sighing into the shadows.
”This place stinks,” she murmured.
”No cleaning. Just damp and rot. Bedframe’s half rotten too,” he said.
If this had been some cheap roadside inn, he would have throttled the landlord by the collar—or else coaxed a pretty landlady into compensating him behind closed doors.
A step slapped sharply against a puddle, echoing in the stillness.
Water dripped. The prison seemed to breathe.
Around their feet stretched wet sand, and shallow stone hollows brimming with water. From the ceiling, droplets fell with a steady rhythm, like the ceaseless leaks of a broken shack on a stormy night.
”…You’re cold, aren’t you? Come here,” she whispered.
There was hardly a dry patch to sit on. He’d only just regained his clothes and wasn’t keen on soaking them again. As he struggled with the choice, she offered him relief first.
He accepted her invitation and moved closer, taking his seat beside the princess. Fear no longer had its place; after all, he had already lain bare beside the Wolf Princess herself. Sitting on a bed next to this one was nothing.
”Tell me honestly, will you?”
The moment he sat, she rose, wrapped in a grimy gray sheet. She loomed over him, her foxlike eyes narrowing with a restless edge. The stance felt less like conversation, more like interrogation.
”Between me and the Wolf Princess—if you had to escape with one of us, who would you choose?” she asked.
For all her sudden ferocity, the question was absurd. He turned away with a snort.
”Be honest. I won’t get angry if you say her. I just want your analysis.”
”…Don’t know,” he muttered.
Behind him, her tail swayed slowly side to side. His blunt answer made her eyes narrow further. He could read her meaning, but it was the truth, and glaring at him wouldn’t change it.
”You’ve got more than brute force. Magic, for one. If I chose you and we failed, I’d regret not picking the Wolf Princess. If I chose her and we failed, I’d regret not choosing you. Depends who lives through it, doesn’t it?”
”Sounds like you’re keeping two women as backup,” she said, exhaling in exasperation.
He bit back the urge to compare her to a needy girl demanding constant reassurance. Best not to voice that one.
”But no, you’ll decide here and now. No more hedging.”
Her voice pressed him as though demanding which woman he’d claim as lover. She shed the sheet suddenly, and with a bounce, her bare chest—ample, startlingly so for her frame—spilled into view. She tossed the fabric aside and reached toward him.
”…What’s this supposed to be?” he asked.
”Do you dislike it if it’s me?”
Her hand crept lower, sliding toward what his clothes barely concealed. Metal jingled as she fiddled with the clasp.
”Not dislike—just asking what you’re playing at,” he said.
”The Wolf Princess would never do this. Too selfish. She only cares about what she receives. I’m different.”
He didn’t comment on her rivalry. Her fox eyes locked with his, unblinking. Metal clinked again, until at last the belt snapped loose. Her slender hand slipped beneath, grazing him. A shiver jolted through him.
”You never got your reward for leaving her behind. Allow me to bestow it.”
He almost laughed. The Wolf Princess had called the same act a reward, too. Both of them placed too much value on their bodies. Still—at least she intended to relieve him.
”Why now?” he asked.
”Not sudden. You toyed with me because you wanted this, didn’t you?” she shot back, eyes narrowing, voice cutting.
He whistled innocently and looked away.
”Don’t make that face. Sneaking your hand onto a sleeping girl is cowardly. Touching someone you don’t even intend to woo—lowest of the low. I’ll do this for you, so behave,” she said.
Her cold fingers curled around him, stroking gently, almost too gently.
”So, all I had to do was woo you?” he asked with a crooked grin.
”Hardly. A princess doesn’t entertain commoners. And even aside from rank, a man with no future is beneath me,” she said flatly, her hand still moving.
Her words reminded him of an old fling—casual intimacy without the promise of more. He almost smirked at the irony.
Cold air licked his skin as she pulled him free. Her fingers traced his length with cautious reverence, as though afraid he might break. Too soft. Too tentative. Experience was not in her favor.
”Tell me—should a princess even be doing this?” he asked.
”…Kuzuha,” she said.
”What?”
”Call me Kuzuha. At least until we escape this place.”
So she wanted what the Wolf Princess had demanded too—her name from his lips. Royalty, whatever the species, seemed to share that pride.
”Does it… feel good?” she asked.
”…Not really,” he said.
Kuzuha’s cool fingers kept sliding, but her timid strokes barely stirred him.
”I don’t know how. Tell me what to do,” she admitted.
”Alright. Kneel first. Then press those breasts around it,” he said.
”…Pervert. What exactly are you making me do?”
”If it’s a reward, it should be done properly,” he said.
She frowned, but obediently hefted her chest, enveloping him in their warmth.
So that was it. The Wolf Princess’s roar had rattled her. Now she clung to him, needing reassurance, needing to anchor him to her side. Instinct drove her to seek a male’s strength when fear gnawed at her.
Her soft flesh pressed and shifted, weighty and warm. Noble breasts, wrapping him so cautiously. But without the slick of saliva, the act remained clumsy. She would need teaching.
When a woman revealed her weakness like this, it stirred something primal. The urge to guide her. The urge to exploit her.
A trembling princess seeking comfort—such a sight was prey as much as it was plea.
Kitto sore wa seibutsu to shite no honnō da. T/N: “Surely that is instinct as a living creature.”
If she were his woman, he would protect her. If not, the darker instinct whispered to pin her down, to break her, and to make her his.
For the first time in her life, Kuzuha dared to serve a man so intimately. Even as a princess, she lowered herself to this act. Once she had declared herself above the wolf princess, boasting of her strength—yet here she faltered, her cowardice exposed. What rose within her now was a storm of black emotion. After all, she was not Klock’s.
”…Why that lecherous face?” she asked.
”No reason. Just admiring how fine your breasts are,” he said.
”…Disgusting.”
She scowled, pushing her soft curves up and down, as though taunting him. When his fingers brushed the side of her neck, a faint, husky sound escaped her lips. She glared at him, cheeks tinged with heat.
In Klock’s pocket lay several magic sigils—charms Suzette had pressed into his hand, talismans meant for self-defense in desperate times. But apart from those, he carried another means of subduing magic wielders.
In his mind’s eye surfaced the memory of that gift—an item whispered to strip power from even the Great Mage himself. A relic once entrusted to him by a girl he had known, a holy knight who had left him that dangerous present.
Notes:
• Suzette – The older maid from Viscount Fennec. The head maid at the Viscount Fennec’s villa. She is confident, clear-spoken, and professional.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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