Volume 8 Chapter 13 Ways of Battle
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The first light of dawn slipped through the tattered curtains, painting the small room in a Barreith inn with a gentle, golden hue. A brisk morning breeze whispered through the cracked window, carrying the faint perfume of cherry blossoms and the promise of spring.
Outside, the town stirred with the soft clatter of early risers, but within the confines of the inn, the air thrummed with a private intensity, marked by the rhythmic creak of an old wooden bed.
”Sir Klock, nooo… you promised it’d just be a little tease!” Meina’s voice was a soft, trembling purr, half-lost in the tangle of worn sheets. The beastkin girl’s golden hair fanned across the pillow, her cat-like ears twitching as her tail flicked beneath the covers.
The bed groaned in protest with each shift, a steady cadence that seemed to echo the quiet chaos of their closeness. Klock, broad and unyielding, hovered over her slight frame, his breath warm as he drew her into the warmth of their shared cocoon.
”Fuu…♡ Fuu…♡” Meina’s sighs came in quick, fluttery bursts, tinged with a shy delight that colored the morning’s stillness.
The room was alive with their whispered connection, a secret woven into the dawn’s hush. Beneath the blankets, their movements were a quiet dance, fervent yet tender, as Klock’s presence enveloped her. Her slender form quivered under his weight, her ears standing tall and her tail stretching taut as waves of sensation coursed through her.
Meina pressed her face into the pillow, her small hands gripping the sheets as she surrendered to the moment. Her toes curled, her body tucking inward as if to hold onto the feeling, her breath hitching in a way that seemed to pull Klock closer. The rhythm of their closeness intensified, each motion a silent promise, filling the space with a warmth that rivaled the dawn outside.
”Ahh… it’s done, it’s done,” Klock murmured, his voice rough but warm. “Mornin’, Meina.”
”Nngh… fu-nya…♡” Meina’s reply was a soft, breathless hum, her cheeks flushed as she lay there, caught in the afterglow.
The air grew heavy with their shared warmth, the morning’s chill no match for the heat they’d kindled. Klock tossed back the blanket with a heavy sigh, and a faint, musky scent drifted into the room, sweet and intimate.
Meina’s golden hair clung to her damp neck, her body sprawled across the bed, a faint shimmer of exertion marking her skin. She shifted, her movements slow, and a soft *bup*i sound slipped out, making her blush deepen. Her hand moved to cover herself, a shy gesture, but Klock caught her wrist with a gentle grin, leaning over her once more.
Their eyes met, her usual vibrant beastkin spark softened into something raw and unguarded. Meina, the lively catgirl who could brighten any room, was now a vision of quiet surrender, her presence radiating warmth in the morning light. Klock had only meant to ease his morning restlessness, but the sight of her—flushed, disheveled, and wholly his—stirred a deeper longing. His touch returned, gentle yet insistent, finding her warmth again as he pressed closer, their connection reigniting with a soft, deliberate rhythm.
”Nnngh…♡ Again…?” Meina’s voice was a shaky whisper, her eyes wide with surprise and delight.
Klock held her hands above her head, his gaze steady as he moved with her, each motion a quiet claim. Her body softened beneath him, yielding to the rhythm as he wove himself into her warmth.
Meina turned her face aside, her cheeks burning, but her soft cries—*nya, nya*—spilled out, sweet and unguarded, as she moved with him. Her small frame trembled under his presence, her hips sinking into the mattress as their connection deepened. The soft *gup*o, *gup*o sounds of their closeness filled the room, her form yielding under the weight of their shared moment.
*Bu*o… *bub*u, *bub*u.* The sounds were soft, intimate. Klock lifted her legs, guiding them gently as he pressed closer, their connection cresting in a quiet rush. He poured his warmth into her, a final mark of their shared dawn, as Meina’s body quivered, her breath catching in soft gasps.
”…While some of us toil at dawn, you’re indulging, aren’t you, Bastard Lord?” The voice sliced through the haze, sharp and cool as the morning air.
Klock froze. The door creaked open, revealing Suzette in the threshold. The room, shared by the four of them—Klock, Meina, Suzette, and another—was small, and her return was expected, but her timing was a jolt. Her face was a calm mask, her eyes like polished ice. Suzette, ever the composed maid, was Klock’s heart, and the sight of him tangled with Meina was a quiet betrayal laid bare.
Klock’s pulse quickened, his body reacting to the weight of her gaze as if caught in a storm. Meina, lost in her warmth, let out a soft, “Nngh… fuu… n-nya*n…♡ Sir Klock, it’s too much…♡”
”Shh! Hush, just—hold on!” Klock hissed, his voice tinged with panic as he shot her a desperate glance. Sweat beaded on his brow, his heart racing like a cornered creature’s.
Suzette’s gaze held steady, her silence colder than any words. The room’s warmth plummeted, her stare carrying a chill that felt almost tangible. With slow, deliberate steps, she crossed the floor, her boots clicking softly. Meina, still adrift in her haze, purred and clung to Klock, oblivious to the gathering storm.
”Finished with your morning indulgence?” Suzette’s voice was smooth, too smooth, her lips curving into a smile that didn’t touch her eyes.
”Uh… yeah?” Klock managed, his voice faltering.
”I see. Well done. Must be quite the task, tending to your *dawn urges*.” She paused, her fingers flexing with a soft *pop, pop*. “Now, might I ask you to help me with *my* frustrations?”
The sound of her knuckles was like a quiet warning. Klock’s mind scrambled for an excuse, but he knew it was pointless. Sometimes, a man had to face the storm. Suzette’s anger was a force, and the only way through was to meet it head-on, to take it as a man must.
* * *
Even for a city, this place was huge.
Too huge, Klock thought, tugging his cloak tighter as he strolled along the street alone. The stone pavement pressed firm under his boots, soaking up the morning sun until it almost stung. The air shimmered faintly with heat as he made his way toward the center of town.
Barreith. For all the chaos, it still lived up to its name as a city. Built right at the foot of the northwest mines, it sprawled wide and dense, every line of sight packed with neat rows of stone houses and tightly laid streets. He didn’t know much beyond that, so this walk doubled as reconnaissance. A lazy walk, maybe, but he wanted the layout burned into his head.
His eyes wandered everywhere, drinking it in. Not just the walls of the houses, but the ground—every inch paved in clean stone tiles. The sight of it almost matched the grand capitals of the world. The whole place—streets, plazas, raised terraces—glimmered pale gray in the sun. Not a single old wooden house in sight. That took money, sure, but it also felt like… more than just wealth. It felt like control. Like stubborn pride etched in stone.
And honestly, packed this tight, it was suffocating.
Still, this wasn’t even Barreith at its best. The view was ruined—people everywhere, stuffed wall to wall, spilling from the squares into the streets like they were part of the cobblestone. Way too many bodies for the size of the city.
The plaza was clogged with silent crowds, not relaxing, not talking, just… occupying space. Refugees, from the look of their battered packs. They weren’t here to sightsee. And the people of Barreith weren’t thrilled about it either, judging by the side-eyes cutting through the morning glare.
”Hey, kid. Zone out like that and someone’s gonna jack your bag.”
”Shut up—don’t call me kid!!”
Klock had muttered the warning to a boy sprawled on a stone bench. The boy flinched, snatching his bag into his arms, glaring back with puffed-up defiance.
”That’s a big pack for someone your size. Where’d you come from?”
”What’s it to you. Rushelora.”
”Huh. That far, huh. Must’ve come through Gassano? Didn’t get mauled by Monsters on the way?”
”Not me. We had adventurers leading us. I heard they fought off bandits, though.”
Klock nodded like it was just passing gossip and waved him off. “Yeah, well. Good luck.”
He turned away from the plaza, his eyes flicking over the crowd, scanning for any tails. Nothing obvious.
Rushelora folk had made it here, then. Good for them… but keeping order here was about to get hellish.
Barreith sat deep inland, nowhere near the sea, yet people kept flooding in from far beyond. Rushelora was way off on the far eastern coast, so Barreith was their only real shot. But refugees weren’t trickling in from nearby villages anymore—they were whole towns, entire lives uprooted, and that weight was crushing the city.
Food prices had already gone wild. Shelters were nonexistent. Even clothes were scarce. Every day Barreith grew less livable, and crime climbed to match.
Pickpockets. Snatch-and-run thieves. Burglars. Armed muggers.
Even as a grown man, Klock couldn’t say he felt safe walking alone anymore. If murders started, people would snap. The mob would storm the government hall and drag the mayor out with their bare hands.
”Hey, the moon had an eye again last night. Demon Lord’s Army, right? What’s the Hero even doing?”
”Seriously. They said Rushelora fell. What if they come here?”
Klock caught the gruff voices as he passed a group of middle-aged men, brows furrowed over old newspapers. Probably outdated, since papers had stopped printing weeks ago.
”Someone said they saw a woman with horns in the old quarter. A demon, maybe.”
”Ehh, no way. No demon would come to the middle of nowhere like this.”
That came from two women chatting at a fountain, baskets on their arms—locals, not refugees, judging by their tidy skirts and clear eyes.
”They say the Federation Faction trashed Sienna Ward again. What are they even doing at a time like this.”
A few armed men grumbled as they passed by. Not soldiers—too rough, too unshaven—but their travel-worn cloaks and well-kept blades marked them as adventurers. Probably escorting Rushelora survivors.
No one was talking about anything good.
Sure, the city was busy. But it wasn’t thriving.
Maybe it was time to leave. Staying here got them nothing.
It had been days since they came to Barreith. Days of nothing.
By daylight, Cianie scouted outside the city, but came back with nothing. By dusk, they locked themselves inside before the Moon’s Eye found them. That was all they did. Wait. Waste time.
If they just knew where Viola was.
Every day, Klock thought it.
War was spreading across the whole world, and here he couldn’t even *see* the front lines.
If nothing changed today, he’d suggest moving as soon as Cianie returned.
But… where?
”Oh—hey. Aren’t you…”
”Hm? Ah. Well, if it isn’t Captain Guard himself. Boston, right? You made it.”
The man was older, sharp-faced, and looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. Boston—Rushelora’s head of the guard—stood there in a travel cloak, a longsword strapped at his hip. Most city guards used curved falchions, but Klock figured rank had its perks. Or maybe Boston just had stubborn taste.
”I’m glad you’re alive,” Boston said quietly. “We took heavy losses to the bandits, but… it seems we both survived.”
”…Yeah. Uh, more importantly—what the hell was that back there?!” Klock’s voice rose without meaning to. “I told you to *wait*. To plan it out. You know how many people died when the Demon Lord’s Army caught up?!”
So that was what the kid meant earlier. Klock hadn’t known—they’d teleported ahead of everyone else. He kept that to himself and let Boston speak.
”…I’m sorry. Truly. There were Demon Lord’s troops on our heels, then. I guess it was to be expected… but no one reported it to me. I told them to be careful with the escape, I did, but…”
”They didn’t listen.”
”No. Or rather… the mayor and the board argued. The mayor opposed fleeing entirely. The legal officer lost patience and led the escape by force.”
Klock’s brows shot up. He’d expected tension, but not open rebellion.
If the mayor opposed it, maybe he never believed the Monster threat was real. The legal officer—hard to say. Could’ve been panic. Could’ve been ambition. People only clawed their way back into power when they thought they saw an opening.
”Still… it was way too fast. We had no time to prepare.”
”It was to outmaneuver the mayor, apparently. They spread rumors through the town about everyone being fed to the Demon Lord’s Army, had hired adventurers help stir the panic, and pushed as many people as they could into revolting. The mayor didn’t know, and anyone who never heard the story… got left behind.”
So that was how it had gone.
Klock watched Boston’s mouth tighten, the older man’s jaw locked hard like he was trying to swallow something sour. If the city guard had helped lead the flight, no wonder he looked like he’d swallowed glass. No one knew how many had been left behind. No one even knew if anyone still lived in Rushelora now—or what the Demon Lord’s Army was doing there.
Anyone who escaped… probably called themselves lucky.
But as an operation, it wasn’t victory. It was survival. Barely.
And here, in Barreith… this city wasn’t safe either. Between the food shortages, the overcrowding, the fraying nerves—if the Demon Lord’s Army marched west, Barreith would be the first battlefield. Even if they lived through that, there’d be no peace until the war ended.
”…Right. Well. You did your best,” Klock muttered at last. “Gets rough, getting yanked around by people in charge. Still, the ones who escaped… they’ve gotta be grateful, yeah?”
”No,” Boston said, his voice low. “It’s because they had money to hire high-ranked adventurers. There was even a famous A-Rank among them, so breaking through the Merfolk sentries was easy.”
He let out a humorless laugh. “I tried to be useful. Couldn’t even get results against bandits.”
”That’s just how it goes. Don’t beat yourself up.”
”I joined the city guard out of a sense of justice, you know. And now here I am… leaving the city while the people I swore to protect are still there. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.”
”Justice, huh.” Klock’s lips curved faintly. “That’s a trait of guys who pull the short straw. If you’d stayed there acting all noble, you’d have a Trident sticking out of your gut by now.”
”Klock, there you are.”
The soft tug on his cloak came from behind.
Gray hair swaying, Cianie stepped right into his personal space like it wasn’t even there. She was supposed to be out scouting since dawn—if she’d come looking for him in the middle of Barreith, something must’ve changed.
”I need to talk to you.”
”…Got it.”
The look in her eyes said it all—she wanted him alone. Klock gave Boston a quick nod, and the older man raised a hand with a faint smile, murmuring something about not interrupting lovers as he strolled off.
Klock snorted under his breath and moved with Cianie to the edge of the street, out of the flow of people.
”I’ve got a proposal,” she said.
”…A proposal?”
”Mm. Maybe I don’t have to go fight.”
He froze. “…Eh?”
”Viola’s the reason I can’t move freely. But if I stay by your side, she won’t risk making a move. So I could stay on defense here… and Meina and Suzette could handle the field.”
Her tone stayed flat as ever—Cianie never really changed expression—but it was serious.
Klock’s eyes flicked over the crowd. No one was eavesdropping. They left them like furniture by the roadside.
”…Sure, maybe I’d get more freedom that way. But if we can’t even send *you* out, why bother sending anyone?”
”Suzette has strategy. Meina has skill far beyond normal. It wouldn’t be meaningless.”
Klock rubbed the back of his head and glanced away.
He got what she meant. Meina might’ve been treated like a grunt back in the Nyan Law Corps, but she had a genius for battle—one of the best in the entire Beast Country. If she went to the front, she’d definitely make an impact. Suzette, with her spycraft, could too.
But what they needed now was the overwhelming force only a Hero could bring. Meina was strong—but she wasn’t going to change the tide of the whole war alone. Only Cianie could.
If she wasn’t going, then sending the others was pointless.
And anyway, they were *his* girls. He wasn’t going to toss them into a battlefield just because they might help a bit. A single arrow to the chest and they’d be gone.
”…Wait.”
It was true they were wasting their strength, though. The thought clicked in his head like a spark.
”…Cianie. Say people figure out you’re the Hero. Say they start talking trash. Could you stand it, as long as you were with me?”
”…Mm. I don’t mind.”
She tilted her head slightly at his sudden question, then nodded without hesitation.
Klock’s fingers twitched. He had something. A way to fight differently.
It would put pressure on her, though.
”Anything happens, you tell me. Right away.”
”…Mm…?”
He took her hand, then stepped back into the street, plunging into the press of bodies. Time was short. He ducked and sidestepped, weaving through the flow until they broke through into open space again.
His eyes darted, searching—
”Looking for that man from before? He’s over there.”
Cianie spotted him first—of course she did.
Boston’s back stood out ahead, and Klock cut straight toward him. He clapped the man hard between the shoulder blades.
”Oh? Something else you needed?”
”Yeah. Got a quick chat for you.”
Boston blinked as Klock half-pushed him off the street into the shade of a stone archway.
”Truth is,” Klock said, a sly curve creeping onto his mouth, “I’m looking for someone just a little too full of justice. You interested in working under a Hero?”
”…Eh?”
Boston just stared. Like he’d been handed a snake. His brows pulled together, suspicion flashing like he was facing down a shady merchant.
And then Klock pulled something from his cloak.
An adventurer’s card.
The kind anyone could recognize. Proof of rank, and identity.
Boston saw it—and for a moment, his jaw actually dropped.
Notes:
• Meina – She is a golden-haired catgirl employee of the beastman (Larana the cat woman) Inn, appeared performing fellatio, desperate and tear-streaked, with an inexperienced yet earnest approach to her work.
• Suzette – The older maid from Viscount Fennec. The head maid at the Viscount Fennec’s villa. She is confident, clear-spoken, and professional.
• Rushelora – A port where demons are allowed to stay at embassies under special circumstances. It is a location where humans and demons have trade relations.
• Cianie – A noble girl with a fluffy white and light blue dress, indicating her high status. She has a hesitant and flustered personality but is kind and courteous. Her relationship with Klock begins as an accidental encounter and develops into a romantic interest. She has a fiancé but expresses feelings for Klock, complicating their relationship.
• Boston – Adelina’s father, who holds a position of power within the church hierarchy. He has a dark secret regarding the death of his wife, Adelina’s mother.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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