Volume 4 Chapter 71 Secret Contract ♡
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The crash of waves rolled gently along the shore, like a quiet drumbeat beneath their words. Away from their attendants, Kian stood at the edge of the surf, watching the young eastern man across from him. Gensou’s thick brows framed large dark eyes, and his full lips curved in a calm smile that didn’t quite reach them.
”…And what will you tell the watchers Jibril sent?” Kian asked at last, his tone cool, almost absent.
”Ah, that’s right, you did fight them, didn’t you?” Gensou’s smile deepened as a faint chuckle slipped out. “Kuku… To surpass those two at the same time, though—yeah, I guess you really are on a different level. Must be in the blood, huh? Unlike all of us common-born nobodies.”
”I was… a dropout,” Kian said quietly.
”No,” Gensou replied at once, eyes flashing, voice sharp enough to cut the breeze. “You’re exceptional. The results prove it. It’s Azrael, with its magic-power supremacy, that’s broken—not you.”
There was a pause, and then Kian tilted his head slightly. “…I’ve been wondering. What is your actual relationship with Jibril? You speak a lot like him. Are you another of those who resonate with him, like Linca Tsai?”
”I wouldn’t say ‘resonate,’ no,” Gensou said, letting out a short breath. “I just admit he’s right about some things. Rationally speaking. These days, with magic tech and trained monsters, raw magic power hardly matters unless it’s absurdly high. You can’t measure worth by magic power anymore.”
He added in a softer murmur, “Though… I do think rare exceptions like Linca Tsai deserve the highest praise even now.”
A breeze stirred his black hair as he went on. “This era is in flux. The crystals we call magic stones are just solidified leaks from the Spiritual Vein. But if tech keeps improving—if we can draw raw energy straight from the Spiritual Vein and crystallize it ourselves—even someone like Linca will stop being special. Anyone could wield almost infinite magic power, as long as they have a magic tool that can tap the Spiritual Vein.”
(That was the fear Linca confessed once, in Count Cain’s territory.)
Gensou gave a faint nod. “I wasn’t like my father or brother. My father overflowed with magic power, and my brother inherited it. Me? I had above-average magic power, but next to my brother, or Sarah Nakash, or Linca Tsai, I was painfully ordinary.”
”…You don’t seem that way,” Kian murmured.
”That’s only because I fill in my lacking ability by digging up ancient gods’ tombs in Nile’s domain,” Gensou said, almost lightly. “It’s no different from mass-produced warrior monks drawing power from magic stones.”
”I see. Still… even so, using tools well is a kind of talent. No matter how gifted someone is, they’ll be crushed if they go bare-handed against spirits’ weapons. So in the end, what decides victory is how many good weapons you have—and how well you use them.”
”True enough. My father died without ever realizing that,” Gensou said with a small, wry smile.
”…Or maybe you killed him because he couldn’t realize it?”
Gensou’s smile froze. He turned his head slowly, black eyes locking on Kian’s.
”…Was I wrong? If I were Lord of Gensou, I’d have joined Talarene Nakash and killed my father and brother.”
”Ha. Ha. Ha.”
The laugh burst out of Gensou, dry and hollow, yet lined with something raw—anger, inferiority, the high of killing someone who refused to acknowledge him. His voice had stayed gentle until now, but it cracked, sharp for an instant before smoothing again.
”…You really do want to talk honestly, huh.”
”I told you that’s why I invited you,” Kian said simply.
”Fine,” Gensou said, straightening. “To answer your first question… Lord Jibril and I are like boss and subordinate. When my father and brother declared independence, they took his support. I still use most of it. Monsters like giant dragonflies and pillbugs, various golems. The tech for raising bugs inside your body, controlling people with them, spreading plagues. Jibril gave all that to the Lee Family almost for free. Some of my men even studied under him directly. They’ve been shaped by his influence.”
He clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing the wet sand.
”If I defy Jibril, those men would leave the Lee Family—or worse, they might turn on me. That’s another reason I can’t oppose him. The only reason I can act freely at all is that I personally never took his direct support.”
”Then… what you want is to escape Jibril’s control?”
”Of course. Who wouldn’t want freedom when it’s being crushed out of them?”
He said it quietly, then crouched to pick up a piece of driftwood and began sketching in the sand. Thin, many-legged, like a shrimp but wrong. A strange creature.
”This is a banned parasite,” he said without looking up. “If its egg is implanted in a person, it hatches and fuses with their central nervous system. Anyone fused like that can be controlled by whoever commands the parasite. It was invented back in Umar’s time, but Jibril perfected it. A good number of the men my father trusted are carrying these.”
He looked up at Kian, eyes dark.
”Magic revolution? Fine. Ending magic-power supremacy? Fine. But can you live peacefully under someone who has this? I can’t. I can’t understand him. It’s like he’s trying to crawl into a country’s brain and build his own empire there. Peace won’t follow him. Jibril is a disease Azrael will have to cut out one day.”
”…Then maybe you and I can get along,” Kian said.
”Because you can’t forgive Jibril for taking your place? The enemy of your enemy?”
”That part’s right, but… I don’t really care about that anymore,” Kian said. “I oppose him because he wants my body.”
”Oh?” Gensou’s eyes gleamed, sly. “And why’s that?”
”I don’t know. He just said he’s interested in it. Half a year ago he almost caught me.”
”Maybe he wants to use parasites to control you as a weapon?”
”…Maybe.”
”Well, whatever,” Gensou said at last, flicking the driftwood aside. “Anyway, you see my motive now. I need to cut off Jibril’s influence. For that, I have to take Malc, secure the southern continent. I can’t waste soldiers anymore. So yes—retreat would be welcome.”
”If you retreat,” Kian said evenly, “then we’ll pin Shidarkan down. Please send his fleet toward the Sea of No Return—toward the place called Underworld Island. If you do that, Kian merchant guild will wipe out the Malc fleet.”
”Wonderful,” Gensou said with a bright clap of his hands, as if they were planning a party instead of orchestrating a war. “And while you’re at it, could you also deal with Mansoor and the Vahid people? They’ll probably try to take revenge on me for… well, betraying them. After I pull my army back, move Crete’s warships and hit Cyclops Island.”
”Crete can’t spare the ships for that. We’re outnumbered already.”
”It’s fine, it’s fine,” Gensou said breezily, and he gave Kian’s shoulder a cheerful pat—twice, light taps that somehow carried the cold weight of strategy.
”When I say I’m retreating, the Azrael Army on the island will panic. They’ll lose their support from the homeland. Mansoor and Vahid will start packing to flee in the night. That’s when Crete’s forces strike. Kill Mansoor, Shidarkan, Ryoma, Hanami, and the whole mess ends cleanly. I get the southern continent almost untouched.”
”…Hm.”
”Make sure Mansoor dies. That senile old man’s annoying, but he’s still stupidly strong. If he comes for me later, it’ll be a pain. The others are fine left alone—they have no initiative. If they disappear, that’s convenient, but not necessary.”
”I don’t have command over the Crete forces,” Kian said. “At most I can suggest it to their commander. But… I will personally take responsibility for killing Shidarkan.”
”The commander is Scipio Crete, right? He just became Minister of War.”
”Probably. I don’t really know.”
Gensou went quiet for a moment. Then he smiled again, bright and perfect, and held out his right hand.
”Very well! Then we have a deal! Tell them to hit the Crete Archipelago from the side to crush Shidarkan, and they’ll obey. I’ll leave that to you. And please make sure Lord Scipio hears about the Cyclops Island strike.”
”Sure. Might end up telling his subordinate Balinars instead.”
”Balinars works. Please do.”
Their hands parted.
Gensou turned toward the two female warrior monks waiting for him. Kian walked beside him, pulling something from inside his cloak.
”Here.”
”What’s this?”
”A membership card for the Warrior Monks of Al-Ilah.”
”…Al-Ilah? The One God?”
”Yes. It means the One God. The one above even Azrael. I just founded a religious order of knights that worships Al-Ilah as the supreme god. If you join, you’ll be member number two.”
”……………………”
Kian said it with an easy smile. Gensou just stared, dumbstruck. Then he pressed a hand to his forehead and burst out laughing.
”Ahahahahaha! I’m one of the Twelve Divine Generals, you know, and you’re trying to recruit me?!”
”Of course. You don’t have to abandon the Azrael faith. This order is just for sharing knowledge and mutual support. After you unify the southern continent, please visit the Kianmerchant guild in Crete. You’ll be welcome.”
”Fufufu… Lord Kian, you really are something.”
”I’m also open for a chess rematch. We can play anytime.”
”Fufu… hahahahaha!”
”Sir Gensou? Are you all right?” one of the warrior monks asked, brow furrowed as she stepped closer.
”I—I’m fine. Fufufu…” Gensou gasped between fading laughter.
”Kian, did you finish?” Talia’s voice slid in, smooth as ever.
”Yeah. Lord of Gensou says he’ll retreat. In exchange, we’ll kill Shidarkan when he comes to Underworld Island.”
”I see.”
Talia gave a single firm nod, then looked up at Gensou, who was still quietly chuckling.
”General Gensou, please don’t break your promise. We are betting our lives.”
”Of course. By tomorrow—no, by today—the news of Gensou’s withdrawal will reach the Crete court. That should make persuading Balinars and Scipio easy.”
”Persuade them… to do what, exactly?”
”To crush Cyclops Island. Once I’m gone, if those old men have nowhere to go and flood into Nile, it’ll be messy. Please kill them there. Especially Mansoor.”
Talia’s long, narrow eyes thinned further. “I see,” she said simply, then stepped back.
”Well then, I’ll excuse myself.”
”Yes. Lord Kian, I look forward to our chess rematch,” Gensou said, giving a big, carefree wave.
Kian and Talia bowed lightly, then boarded the Chin-Chin and left the deserted island behind.
* * *
”There’s no need to report Gensou’s retreat to Scipio,” Talia said once the Chin-Chin had drifted far enough from the island that its lights were just specks behind them. “And we won’t say we met him here. We’ll just stay on defense at Underworld Island, as planned.”
”Because it’d give Crete more ways to lose.”
”Exactly.”
Whether Gensou actually retreated was anyone’s guess. He might just pretend to, lay a trap, and wait. If Crete’s thousand soldiers marched straight into it and got wiped out, that would be instant defeat—unconditional surrender. Even if he really did leave, Cyclops Island still held Mansoor and the other veteran warrior monks. Charging in would cost heavy losses. Worst case, one of them could overturn the whole war single-handedly. Then they wouldn’t be able to handle Malc’s reinforcements when Shidarkan’s main force arrived, and they’d have to surrender anyway.
There was no benefit to attacking. None.
Victory meant holding Crete until the enemy fell apart on their own. The Western Church wanted an early win, but they didn’t need that. They just needed to win at all. If they could turtle up like a badger and survive, there was no reason to rush out and grab flashy victories.
There was no reason to create new ways to lose.
Talia tugged her dark robe tighter around her blouse and sat flat on the deck. The way her short skirt pressed and creased around her hips was… distracting. Her round butt curved against the fabric, and the black tights on her thighs squished slightly where they met the deck. She subtly pinned her skirt hem under her thighs so it wouldn’t flip up, which only made the lines of her groin—her inner thighs and the base where her legs met—show even clearer.
Whether or not she noticed Kian’s gaze lingering, Talia lifted her knees, pulling her thighs up against her chest with her skirt bunched underneath, like a loose triangle-sit. The darker shade of her tights around her thighs showed even in the dim light.
It was… a very erotic view, perfectly tuned to Kian’s tastes.
”If Gensou wants to retreat, let him. Crete will just watch. Without supplies from Gensou or Shidarkan, Mansoor and the others will run out of food and weapons. They’ll either surrender, go for a suicidal blast attack, or turn into real pirates and flee somewhere. Even if Jibril keeps dragging things out, it’ll still end. Crete will win.”
”And if Gensou doesn’t retreat?”
”Then we go back to square one. Kianmerchant guild kills Shidarkan first, then we just stare at each other again. If that happens, Western Church and Chatillon will support us. With both backing us, Gensou will bleed out. His only shot would be full support from Jibril.”
”So Shidarkan will definitely attack?”
”Gensou will make him. And Shidarkan will, because Underworld Island is straight from Phoenicia. If he turns it into a fortress, he can threaten Crete anytime, and even strike Kingdom of Castile from the sea.”
Castile sat south of Franz. Half its land was taken by Nizaam, and its goal was to push Azrael completely off the northern continent—their longed-for reconquista. Castile’s tomatoes, potatoes, tobacco, and sugar passed to Franz, then Western Church territory, then Crete, before finally reaching Azrael. If someone took Underworld Island, they could bite into that trade too. Economically, the island—now free of the Sea of No Return—had become a crucial hub.
”Of course, this is all just theory,” Talia added. “We’ll see what everyone really does starting tomorrow.”
”I hope that talk with Gensou won’t be for nothing.”
”It won’t be. In war, it’s vital to know what the enemy thinks, how they reason. That lets you predict their moves, know when to stop, cut down the fear of ‘fighting an unknown enemy,’ and judge them accurately—neither overestimating nor underestimating.”
Her words flowed like water off a board, smooth and sharp, then she gave him a dazzling little smile.
”Well done, Kian. You did great. If you feel like the results are lacking… I’ll make it up to you.”
”…Make it up how?”
”I’ll praise you a lot. Make you feel it was worth all the effort. I’ll reward you,” she said, drawing out the word.
Her pretty lips parted, and her tongue slid slowly along them. A faint red-violet glow flickered in the dark from the heart-shaped magic circle she’d burned into her tongue when she entered Lyritisse’s body.
”After a bath, though. The sea smell hides it, but this body stinks right now.”
* * *
The light in Elder Gaius’s hut was already out.
Kian and Talia stepped down from the Chin-Chin and slipped into the little lodge that served as the Kian merchant guild’s outpost. Inside, they set up a bath—not with water, but with the pale-blue slime they’d bought earlier from Master Magiello’s shop.
Kian washed first. Then it was Talia’s turn.
Honestly, he’d wanted to hop in together and… hustle, but Talia had turned him down flat. She’d said something about how pigs had no right to greedily touch their owner’s body without permission, which wasn’t exactly a logic he could argue with, and so he’d been forced to wait.
While she cleaned herself, he was dumped on the bed, both hands bound behind him in Asterios’s chain—well, a fake made by Leprobus—and a strip of cloth tied over his eyes. The chains had been treated with some weird alchemy of hers, tough enough that even his strength couldn’t snap them.
In the dark, he could hear the soft wet squelch of Talia washing every part of her body with the slime. The sharp, clean scent of the blue slime filled the room. Every time she let out a quiet sigh, sounding a little too content, Kian twitched helplessly against his restraints.
”Wait—why am I even tied up?” he muttered.
”If you saw my bath, you’d lose control. I’ve completely mapped your behavior patterns,” she said lightly from behind him.
”But this is just torture.”
”Just a little longer. Once I’m clean, I’ll make the pain go away.”
Right after that, there was a loud plop as something thick displaced air. Talia let out a soft, broken “ah… fuh,” and he heard the sound of her lifting herself from the slime. Then came a slow, wet stirring sound, like she was swirling something with her hands. It faded after a few seconds, and then there was the sound of her body slipping back into the slime.
”…This even works for cleaning your mouth,” she murmured.
”Use a new one. There’s plenty.”
”Mm. Thanks.”
The soft slick noises of her rubbing the slime over her skin filled the dark, followed by a squishy gargle sound as she used it to clean her mouth too.
”We should set up a steady supply deal with Magiello,” she said, voice perfectly businesslike even while half-naked in a slime bath. “It’ll help keep the guild members’ hygiene good.”
Then came the splash of her feet stepping out, and the wet slap of her soles on the rock floor. A breeze stirred—the faint hiss of Wind magic sweeping her dry as she shook the slime off her skin and back into the tub.
When it was done, she asked him for a knife.
”…What for?”
”Shaving. Hey, what kind of pubic hair do you like?”
”The bushier the better.”
”That’s not an option. So: trim it neat and thin, leave just the patch above the lower belly, shave it all off, or shape it into a heart. Which?”
”Don’t shave it all. And don’t do just the patch. At least keep some on the labia. So… either neat and thin, or the heart.”
”Heeey, which? Hurry up.”
”…Fine. Heart. Just to see.”
”Mm. Got it. Stay still.”
He quickly added that she should leave the hair on the labia and butt alone, and she gave an impatient “yeah yeah, I got it.”
Then came the sound: snip snip, scritch scritch scritch scritch, as she shaved Lyritisse’s soft curls in the dark. After hearing all that slime earlier, his imagination was running wild, and now this—his crotch was about to blast from how painfully hard he was.
”Okay, done. I’ll stash the knife inside a Wraith.”
”Ah… okay.”
”You can roll over now.”
With a snap of her fingers, the blindfold slipped away. His hands were still bound tight in the chains.
Kian immediately rolled his body toward the tub.
”…Then, shall we begin?”
”――――”
Words left him. Talia, in Lyritisse’s body, was dazzling.
Her flaxen hair fell to her shoulders, framing neat brows and bright blue eyes. Those eyes, usually so pure on Lyritisse, now glimmered with a cruel spark, like a teasing bully about to break her toy. She looked at his awkward, helpless sprawl and let out a soft, mocking chuckle. Her gaze dropped to his straining erection and she murmured, “Oh,” letting her tongue spill past her lips to slowly circle her mouth.
A faint glow pulsed from the heart-shaped magic sigils on the flat of her tongue and just above her freshly shaven lower belly.
”――――”
”Ufufu.”
She stood like a refined lady, arching her perfect breasts forward as if to show off their shape. Her areolae were a little large, soft pink, and almost glowing in the dark.
Her belly was slim with faint abs showing, and beneath it—there it was. A clean-shaven mound, with the hair just above her clitoris trimmed into a perfect heart.
Her waist narrowed, then flared out into full hips that looked powerful enough to squeeze the soul out of a man. Long, shapely legs stretched beneath. He wanted to wrap himself around them so badly it hurt.
”Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said sweetly.
She climbed onto the bed on her knees. It was big enough for them to sprawl with room to spare. She quickly slid a fluffy pillow under his back and leaned against his shoulder.
”Ou—gh.”
”Fufu. Weird face. …It’s okay, relax.”
”My hands are still bound.”
”They’ll stay bound. You’re going to be comforted like this. Even if you beg, I won’t forgive you.”
She leaned closer. Her lips and delicate chin filled his vision—and then she kissed his forehead.
Her warm skin smelled faintly of herbs. As he lay on his back, her lips wrapped around his ear, her tongue slipping inside, while her hand slid down to his crotch, fumbling under his clothes and pulling his cock free.
Her palm fit against the slick wet tip, already messy with prec*m.
”You worked so hard today. No… this little piggy c**k is always working hard, isn’t it?”
Her fingers made a ring and began stroking around the ridge. Soft kissy sounds puffed into his ear.
”There, there. Good boy. Come on, c*m pathetically for me, pig.”
”…Isn’t your mood swinging way too hard—ugh…”
”You can’t resist me. I’ve already analyzed every point that makes you feel good.”
”Uwaah—?!”
”Let’s see how long you can last. I have to properly train my future husband. Every day from now on, we’ll make you c*m like a pathetic little loser until it becomes a habit.”
She licked his cheek with a lazy lick. Mint filled his nose. Her saliva left his skin tingling.
Her fingers stroked him gently, more like a massage than a push for climax. For now, he thought, he wouldn’t c*m just yet. Talia tangled her legs with his, grinding her slick heat against his shaft. She was soaked—thoroughly, but not from slime.
—
The author hasn’t been able to post since May due to computer troubles. Thanks for your patience — updates will return once things are back up and running.
Notes:
• Gensou – Eccentric young Eastern monk-general in Azrael’s army, playful yet ambitious. Wields sun-like magic, swordsmanship, and assassination tactics. Linked to three masked wives—Seishi, Oushoukun, and Yougyokukan (Head Magician). Ally of Mansoor and Oji, serves under Jibril, proposes Operation Assassination. First appears Vol. 4 Ch. 45. Reminder: playful Eastern general with masked harem wives, always late but magically explosive, contrasting serious monks with his bathrobe vibe and schemes.
• Linca – Jibril’s favorite girl. High-ranking warrior monk woman from Shin, with strong abilities like ignoring attacks and poisons.
• Count Cain – Talia’s father.
• Talarene – Sarah’s mother and Lady of the Nakash family, remembered for fleeing east with her followers after the clan’s fall. Vanished without a trace, leaving Sarah burdened with restoring Nakash. First mentioned around Vol. 9 Ch. 30. Reminder: noble Nakash matriarch, vanished east, symbol of motherly strength and sacrifice.
• Mag – The wolfwoman under Yelmar—the one who was caught by Kian’s group earlier.
• Shidarkan – Gloomy, bearded son-in-law of the Malc family (Flora’s clan); once a modest Malc magician, ordinary next to Shajar’s elites. Attends the Cyclops Island war council after losing his wife, Flora, and sisters-in-law in the northern base’s destruction. First appears Vol. 4 Ch. 45. Reminder: bereaved Malc son-in-law—sober, doubtful, and dim but dutiful.
• Mansoor – Crimson-eyed elder monk and Azrael’s Divine General from the Shakerdoust domain near Dacia. Wielding mist form, blood-drinking, rapid healing. He ties to allies like Ryoma and Hanami Tsai. First appearing in Vol. 4 Ch. 25. Quick tag: vampiric red-eyed grandpa-general who mist-forms and drinks blood, obsessed with rescuing his captured son unlike other human monks.
• Nizaam – A former member of Azrael’s Twelve Divine Generals and the current head of the Malc family, though he has passed both titles to his daughter to return to the battlefield. He is a prominent warrior noble in Azrael, known for his love of beautiful boys and fierce battles.
• Leprobus – Rou’s comrade who sacrificed his chance to escape during a pirate raid by pushing Rou off in a small boat. He returned to the deck, sword in hand, to protect the others. Distinguished by his giant blood and burning red hair, marking him as more than human. He is released by Kian on Cyclops Island jail.【v4c23】.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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