Volume 10 Chapter 26 The Nightmare of the Ring Finger ⁕
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The girl’s high-pitched giggle echoed through the cramped nap room. “Please, calm down!” she said, her voice sweet and teasing, like a playful nudge. A slender young woman, barely more than a wisp, was led inside by a man in his prime. The room held only a desk and a bed, so small that it seemed made for one thing alone—intimacy, raw and unadorned.
”No need to rush,” she cooed, her tone soothing, as if calming a restless child or brushing a soft kiss on a sibling’s forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’m your Kispe, all yours.” Her words, laced with a playful tone, wrapped around him like a warm blanket.
He led her to the bed, urgency in his grip, and pushed her down with a roughness that made her breath catch. The bedding, absurdly plush, cushioned her fall with a soft thud. His hand slid under her long skirt, bold and unhesitating, lifting it upward.
”Oh, you’re hopeless,” she teased, her voice bubbling with laughter. “We’ve done this so many times, and you’re still so eager? Honestly, it’s kind of gross how much you want it.” Her grin was wide, mischievous, as her underwear was tugged down and cast aside. The skirt bunched up, leaving her exposed—pale, soft legs gleaming, hips curving in a way that stirred the air. Between her thighs, a faint glisten betrayed her readiness, untouched yet already inviting.
Her beauty was almost too perfect, like a ripe fruit ready to be picked. His gaze lingered, and his arousal was unmistakable, pressing against his clothing, thick and urgent, like a force ready to overwhelm something fragile.
She giggled again, soft and unafraid. “Hehe…”
Why didn’t she pull away? Why didn’t she protest? Instead, she laughed, light and carefree, as if daring him to go further. He didn’t pause to think, didn’t trade words. His need overtook him, and he pressed himself against her, pushing inside without hesitation. The motion was raw, unthinking.
A sharp gasp escaped her. “Ngh… ah!” Her delicate frame tensed beneath his weight, her white skin flushed as he moved over her, his body heavy and commanding. Her lips, pressed tight like a sealed gate, parted under the force of his desire, her body yielding to his insistence.
She appeared untouched, pure as a maiden, yet her body welcomed him with practiced ease, shifting from innocence to something knowing, wild. Her inner walls gripped him tightly, as if claiming him in return, holding him in her warmth.
”No kisses, no sweet words, just straight to it, huh?” she murmured, her cheeks pink, her voice a playful pout as she leaned close to his ear. “That’s harsh…”
His hips pulled back and thrust again, relentless, and she clung to him, her body shaking with each movement. No prelude, no tenderness—yet she was ready, her body responding to his with a rhythm of its own. Her body shook, bouncing with each thrust, her breath catching in delight.
”Oh… ngh, ah!” she gasped, her voice a mix of laughter and pleasure. “On this bed, Master, you’re unstoppable, aren’t you?”
Her suspenders snapped as her inner layers were pulled down, the fabric tearing with a sharp sound. She pouted, lips pursed. “Hey!” But her protest melted as he uncovered her chest, her full breasts spilling free, straining against the confines of her undergarments. He tugged her bra up, and her breasts bounced, round and firm, their small peaks taut with tension. His mouth found them, and she let out a deep, sugary sigh, her body arching into his touch.
”Today, am I your mama or your big sister?” she teased, her voice warm, inviting. “Do whatever you like…”
His tongue moved eagerly, and she murmured her approval, her words soft but clear. His thrusts grew stronger, spreading her slender legs wide, holding her narrow waist as he moved into her. His lips brushed her neck, kissed the curve of her shoulder, and returned to her breasts, suckling like a man hungry.
It was almost violent, this hunger of his, yet her face showed not pain but pleasure, her body long used to this dance. The rougher he was, the more her core heated, her gasps growing louder, more urgent.
”Ah! Oh, goshujin-sama!” she cried, her voice breaking as she arched her back, clinging to him with trembling hands. Her fluids dripped, wetting the skirt beneath her, but she didn’t care. Her clothes were already ruined, torn and thrown aside, a costume for this moment alone.
As he sucked at her exposed breasts, she held him close, her touch tender despite his roughness. Her breaths came fast, her small frame straining to meet his desire. The relentless friction inside her made her body quake, her legs kicking the bedding in spasms of pleasure.
Once called a queen, now she moved beneath a man’s raw need, her breasts touched, her core filled. And it excited her deeply.
She felt his rhythm speed up, his body tightening. He was close, ready to spill inside her. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, her voice a breathy whisper. “Yes… let it out, please…”
His lips silenced hers, a rough kiss to quiet her, but she knew what was coming. Her legs tangled with his, urging him on. His shaft pulsed inside her, and with a forceful shudder, he released, flooding her with warmth. His intensity continued into his climax, moving into her with unrestrained desire, filling her completely.
He held her tight, keeping her still as if she might escape, his grip possessive, natural. She moved beneath him, her body reacting with each pulse, her legs moving, her back arching as she breathed into his kiss. “Ngh! Mmph…!”
When he finally pulled away, he breathed out, amazed by the feel of her, the way her body held him, warm and moist, pulling him closer. She was amazing, her every reaction fueling his desire to be with her more, to give himself to her.
”Master…” she whispered, her voice soft, needy. “Stay like this, just a little longer…”
Her body shook, still reacting from the intensity, her core moving around him, not letting go. He moved again, slower now, touching her insides with careful intention. Her eyes closed, words gone as pleasure filled her, her body softening under his touch.
She was his, completely—her hips moving, wanting more, her body shaking with each wave of pleasure. Another movement, another reaction, and she held him, tears on her face as she made sounds, her voice open and free. His desire was strong, and she gave in to it, her body a place for his want.
In a faint whisper, too soft for him to hear, she breathed, “It’s okay… I’m yours. I’ll do anything. Just don’t stop.”
Her body reacted to another wave of pleasure, her core filling with warmth as he was with her again, her shaking hands holding him, her breath uneven, her world focused on his want and the feel of his body on hers.
Her sounds filled the air, clear and free, as the man’s continuous movements went on, each reaction of his pleasure making her body react. “Oh… Master, goshujin-sama…” Kispe breathed heavily, her voice showing pleasure and tiredness, her breath warm on his skin.
Her lips opened, silently asking for a kiss, and he responded, kissing her mouth strongly, tasting the sweat on her warm skin. His hands held her soft, curved hips, touching them as he moved her hips, enjoying the slow, lasting rhythm of their moment.
”Ah… ah!” she whimpered, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Moving so slow, so gentle… it’s too much, too sweet…” Her body shook, small reactions moving through her as she tried to keep herself steady, her words fading into a struggle for breath. When his lips touched the firm tips of her moving breasts, she reacted strongly, her body arching with a sudden, sharp sound.
She was alive with sensation today, more than usual. How many times had she climaxed in these fleeting minutes of raw passion? Her eyes glazed, a faint trail of drool escaping her lips, her expression melted into something soft and utterly undone. Her breasts pressed, their tips almost tightly firm, and her core moved with a free, captivating rhythm. No wonder she looked like this—her body was filled with pleasure, still reacting under his look.
Kispe’s voice broke through, soft but pleading. “Master… please, calm your… your thing down…”
”Huh?” he grunted, caught off guard.
”If you keep moving your hips like that…” she gasped, her voice hitching as another tremor shook her. “I… I can’t take it anymore!”
”Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, dismissive.
Her body reacted again, a sharp sound coming from her as he continued his slow, playful movements, extending her pleasure. Leaning on his elbows, he rested back on the bed, her breasts still near enough for him to touch, his movements slow and intentional, enjoying her responses. Kispe held the bedding, her teeth tight, her body reacting with every movement, caught in the continuous flow of their closeness.
Another moment of pleasure came, filling her core, leaving her shaking body full of warmth. Fluids came from her, collecting beneath her small body, and he moved away at last, a soft sound of satisfaction in his voice as he saw the result of their moment drip down. Her relaxed eyes met his, asking, and she reached out, fingers shaking as if to ask him not to go.
”Kispe,” he said, his voice rough, commanding.
She didn’t answer, only looked at him with those relaxed, wanting eyes.
”Clean it,” he ordered, settling back on the bed’s edge, his arousal still firm. She moved between his legs, her lips touching the tip of his shaft in a soft, respectful kiss.
”I’m sorry, Master,” she murmured, her voice teasing yet sweet. “It’s my fault for being so cute, isn’t it? Your erection just won’t quit. May I… serve you?”
She removed the last of her torn clothes, showing her pale skin, her slim waist, and the full curve of her hips. Fluid still dripped from her, trailing down her thighs, glistening on the floor. Her breasts moved as she walked, and before he could stop himself, he touched them. But she stopped him first, putting her chest against his shaft, surrounding it in soft, warm touch.
”This feels like proper service, doesn’t it?” she giggled, her voice playful. “Does it feel good?”
Her breasts pressed tight, surrounding him with their fullness and softness, covering all but the tip of his length. Her clothes had hidden their true size, but now, bare and unashamed, they proved their fullness, a secret she’d kept veiled.
”Hehe…” she kissed the tip again, her lips brushing lightly, teasingly. Her eyes looked up, seeing his reaction with a playful look, challenging him to lose control.
Her confidence sparked something strong in him, a serious edge appearing. Should he touch her face with his release? Or fill her mouth until she couldn’t breathe? Maybe he’d make her turn around, be with her from behind until she fell, crying, unable to stand. He smiled, thinking about it.
”Hm?” he muttered, catching a shift in her expression.
Her cheeks turned red, her smile clever as she touched him with her chest, her lips playing with the tip with gentle kisses. Nothing seemed wrong—she was his, given completely, helping him as she should.
But then he saw it. “Where’s the slave mark on your shoulder?”
Her lips touched him, soft and kind, her tongue moving to play with him more, as if joking about his question. She stood, her slim body moving, her hips a nice curve. The fluids he’d given her still came, going down to the floor.
She moved toward him, sitting on his lap, leading his still-strong shaft back to her. With a slow, intentional movement, she went down, accepting him with a smooth, pleasing ease. A reaction went through him, pleasure increasing as her warmth surrounded him again.
”Oi,” he growled, his voice sharp. “Where’s the slave mark?”
She giggled, her hips rocking gently. “Talking about something else during sex? That’s rude, Master.”
Her head rested against his neck, her body moving by itself, being with him with a slow, intentional rhythm. His eyes went to her shoulder—smooth, perfect, shining with sweat. No mark. No sign of the agreement that should have controlled her will.
”Hold on,” he said, his voice tightening. “You… you didn’t—”
”Master,” she purred, her lips brushing his ear. “It’s impolite to focus on anything but me right now. Look at me.”
He touched her shoulders, trying to make space, expecting her slim body to move. But she didn’t move. Instead, she pushed him down, her body keeping him on the soft bed with a quiet sound. Her lips touched his, her smile near and surprising, her breath warm on his face.
He looked, sure he’d seen wrong. Wings—delicate, dark wings—spread from her back. He tried to sit up, but his body didn’t move. Her slim hands, so weak before, now held him strongly, unmovable.
”Master,” she cooed, her voice a sultry hum as her hips rocked, drawing him deeper. Her tail, tipped with a point like an arrow, moved playfully behind her. Kispe, on top of him, had the charming smile of a succubus, her eyes shining with something not of this world.
His look went to her stomach, where a strange pattern shone softly. The slave mark that should have been on her shoulder was gone, replaced by this unknown symbol on her lower stomach.
”What’s that look, Master?” she teased, her voice light but edged with mischief. “You were so passionate before—why so worried now?”
Her hips kept moving, touching him, her strong eyes looking into his. “Enough games,” he snapped. “Where’s the slave mark? And why the hell do you have wings?”
She tilted her head, her smile widening. “Why? Because this is me, Master. This is who I am.”
Yes, he knew her real form—wings, tail, the succubus she was. But that wasn’t the point. “The slave mark,” he pressed. “Where is it?”
She pointed to her abdomen, her delicate finger tracing the odd design. “Right here.”
”That’s… the slave mark?”
”No,” she said, her voice soft but triumphant. “It’s what the slave contract used to be.”
His blood ran cold. “You… broke the contract?”
”Yes,” she chirped, her tone bright, unashamed.
He’d been afraid of this, felt it coming, and now it was true. She’d gone against him. Yet even as he realized it, she moved again, her hips going up and down with a steady, playful rhythm, her body bringing him pleasure despite the fear in his chest. Her eyes, soft and loving, looked at him as she moved, her core wet and ready, as if joking about his worry.
”Until today, I obeyed the Hero’s command,” she said, her voice steady despite her movements. “I had the slave mark, followed its rules. But just now, I decided differently. The slave contract? It’s over, by mutual agreement.”
”Mutual agreement?” he barked. “I didn’t agree to anything!”
”Or perhaps I settled it with Cianie,” she said, her tone teasing, as if it were a game. But he knew better—Klock had the agreement’s control. It wasn’t possible.
Her hips stopped, going down to accept him fully, her warmth holding him tight. She leaned in, her voice a whisper. “Do you know what a proxy approval is, Master?”
”Proxy approval?” he echoed, his mind racing, caught between her words and the relentless pull of her body.”
Kispe’s voice trembled with delight as she spoke, her words weaving through the haze of their intimacy. “Contracts, whether forged or renewed, need approval,” she said, her tone light but pointed, as if explaining a simple truth. “That’s the foundation of any contract, even a slave contract. To alter or break it, Master’s consent is required.”
He understood. A slave contract was like a magic circle, built with an inner core and outer shell, meaningless without the magic power to fuel it—a mere scribble otherwise.
”I never agreed to break the slave contract,” he growled, his voice thick with suspicion. “So what’s this about a proxy? How’d you get my approval?”
Kispe stifled a giggle, pressing a hand to her lips like a child caught in a prank. Her demon eyes sparkled with mischief. “Tell me,” he demanded, his patience thinning.
”Oh, Master,” she teased, her voice a sultry purr. “Do you really want to make a girl say it?”
”What?” he snapped, but she only swayed her hips, resuming their rhythm. The slick, wet sounds of their union filled the small room, her body pulling him deeper into her warmth.
”Master,” she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. “Let it out… I love it when you fill me up. I’ve been too shy to say it, but it drives me wild.” Her hands guided his to her breasts, pressing his palms against their softness as she quickened her pace, rocking with a purpose that left no room for his confusion.
”Ah… oh, goshujin-sama!” she gasped, her voice breaking as she chased her peak. His shaft pulsed, spilling into her, and her body answered with a sharp jolt, her hips freezing as she collapsed against his chest, trembling with aftershocks.
”Inside…” she murmured, her voice a dreamy sigh. “That’s it… proxy approval.”
His hands gripped her buttocks, pouring himself into her yielding warmth, her body a testament to her skill as a woman. But her words cut through the haze, revealing her true intent. “Blood oaths, offerings, sacrifices… sex,” she said, her voice soft but triumphant. “Thank you for accepting my declaration, Master. I’m no longer a slave, but please… keep cherishing me just the same.”
”You…” he started, his mind reeling.
She reached for his hand, her fingers seeking to twine with his. He tried to pull away, but her grip was iron, far stronger than her delicate frame should allow. His thoughts scrambled, clouded by the exhaustion of release and the shock of her betrayal.
”Why the scary face, Master?” she cooed, her tone mockingly sweet. “Are you… unhappy with our new arrangement?”
”Unhappy?” he spat. “You betrayed me, set this trap out of nowhere!”
”Oh, that’s not true,” she said, her voice light as she leaned in, her lips brushing his in a teasing peck. “I’m not your lover, Master. When a man demands sex, isn’t it natural for a woman to demand something in return?”
Her words stung. “So it’s my fault for wanting you?” he muttered, unable to argue. Klock’s lover—who was that, anyway? If anyone brought it up, they’d say Klock was the fool here.
”Sex is special,” she continued, her lips grazing his again before pulling back, only to kiss him once more. “Men might see it as just satisfying a urge, but it’s a contract with a woman. A bond.”
”Fine,” he growled. “So what now? You gonna drain me dry and kill me?”
She laughed, nestling into his chest like a lover seeking comfort. “Oh, Master, such a joker,” she said, her tone dripping with affection. “Kill the only man I call Master? Never. I brought this body here to enjoy you fully, to make our time together real.”
”Body?” he echoed, his eyes narrowing.
Her wings fluttered, her tail swishing as she smiled. She released his arms, her unnatural strength easing, leaving only the warmth of her skin against his. “You’re… your true body?” he asked, the realization dawning.
”Yes,” she said, her voice bright. “I thought, as your familiar, I should let you love me properly. A spirit body feels… dull, don’t you think? I wanted you to have all of me.”
”Familiar?” he repeated, stunned by the absurdity of it.
”Your familiar,” she said, nodding. “We’re contracted, aren’t we?”
She gestured to the heart-like mark on her abdomen, glowing faintly. He squinted, unsure. A familiar contract? No, it couldn’t be. It reminded him of that White Cat Princess and her paw-print sigil—some custom creation, no doubt Kispe’s own design.
”You didn’t betray me?” he asked, his voice low, uncertain.
”Betray you?” she gasped, mock-offended. “Never! Though… to the Hero, I might be an enemy. A pesky rival clinging to her lover, perhaps.”
She swayed, her breasts bouncing playfully, drawing his gaze. Her hands guided his back to them, letting him feel their softness. “How could a woman who does this be an enemy?” she teased.
”So you’re not my enemy?” he asked, searching her face.
She giggled, her eyes gleaming. “Did I scare you, Master?”
He pulled his hands free, and a sharp crack rang out as he smacked her bare buttocks. “Don’t mess with me,” he growled. “You knew I was freaking out, didn’t you?”
”Eek!” she yelped, laughing as he flipped her onto her side, his shaft slipping free with a wet pop. She rolled onto the bed, unresisting, and he climbed over her, pinning her down.
”Your real body, huh?” he said, his voice rough with intent. “So I can take you as hard as I want, no holding back?”
Kispe crawled forward, turning to present her buttocks and back, her body inviting. He positioned himself over her, pressing his shaft against the soft cleft of her rear. This time, he was on top, and she was beneath him.
”Oh, scary!” she teased, her voice trembling with mock fear. “Thinking this is your chance to fill me up, Master? Since it’s my real body, not a spirit… there’s a womb in here, you know.”
Her words hung in the air, a playful challenge. Without a word, he pushed into her, her body welcoming him with ease, her warmth gripping him tight. Her buttocks pressed against him, her core and flesh enveloping him completely.
”Enjoy me as much as you want,” she murmured, her voice a sultry promise. “I’m your familiar, after all.”
He thrust hard, punishing her boldness, her ripe, eager core yielding to his every move. Her buttocks jiggled with each slap, her moans filling the air as he claimed her fully. Their strange exchange faded, lost in the heat of their connection. He couldn’t stop, didn’t want to, consumed by her.
His lips forced hers open, his tongue devouring her. He sucked at her breasts like a starving child, thrust into her with raw instinct, mating until he was sated. She urged him on, her voice a constant whisper: “Keep going, Master. I’m confident in my face, my body…”
Hours passed, the sun dipping low, hunger forgotten as he poured himself into her. Disciples came to check on them, but Kispe waved them off, her voice calm despite her disheveled state. “I’m serving Master now. Come back later.” He barely noticed, his mind clouded with desire.
”Tired yet?” she asked, her voice soft, teasing. “Not satisfied? One day might not be enough. I’m confident, Master—you’ll stay obsessed with me. But don’t worry. I’ll be by your side tomorrow, the next day, forever.”
The room grew dark, midnight settling over them. He paused, his breath heavy, her words from earlier echoing in his mind. “You said you changed your mind,” he said, his voice low, searching.
”Hm?” she replied, her head tilting, her body still warm against his, the lingering heat of their union clinging to the air.
As the haze of passion finally cleared, Klock eased himself out of Kispe’s warmth, his breathing steadying. He ran a hand through her hair as she nestled close, her lips still brushing his skin with soft, wet kisses. His mind drifted back to her earlier words, the weight of them settling in.
”This familiar contract,” he said, his voice low, rough from exertion. “Why’d you go for that all of a sudden? If you hated being a slave, you could’ve just ended the contract entirely.”
Kispe hummed, her tone light but evasive. “Well, yes, I suppose.”
He realized he hadn’t pressed her for the real reason. If she despised the slave contract, she could’ve broken it outright. Her ability as Crown’s Companion Star was tied to contracts—forming, altering, or dissolving them should’ve been simple enough for someone like her.
She shifted, resting her head on his chest, her voice soft and intimate, like a lover’s whisper. “You see, Master, I love people who try hard.”
”Huh?” he muttered, frowning.
”I love a man who sweats and fights, who throws himself into danger for a woman’s sake,” she said, her words warm, almost glowing.
He stared at her, confused. “And?”
She nestled closer, her body fitting against his as he instinctively pulled her in. “Master,” she said, her voice bright with admiration, “you were incredible leading the battle. Truly, absolutely amazing.”
”What?” he said, caught off guard.
Her lips brushed his cheek, quick and playful, leaving him blinking in surprise. “My heart skipped a beat,” she giggled, her face alight with a mischievous grin as she pressed herself closer. “Yelling orders, running around almost on your own, stepping into the fray for mere foot soldiers. Even against Ms. Viola, you could’ve let your soldiers shield you, but you stood at the front, keeping her at bay. Was it to protect them?”
”No,” he said, his voice flat, unsure where this was going.
”You care so much for your people,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I nearly swooned watching you.”
He stared, silent, her words sinking in but not quite connecting. She beamed, her cheeks flushed, but he couldn’t grasp what about his actions had struck her so deeply. All he knew was that Kispe being Kispe, it was probably something absurd.
”I watched you, Master,” she continued, her voice growing earnest. “And I thought, I want to be protected like that. I want to be wanted like that, fought for, risked everything for. You have that in you, Master. I love a man who’d stake his life for me, who’d fight with everything he has. I love that so much.”
Her words came fast, fierce, her eyes locked on his. Risking his life? For what? Klock inhaled sharply, then let out a long breath, tilting his head back as if to shake her words out of his ears.
”So I decided,” she said, her voice resolute. “I want to be someone precious to you. Being a pitiful slave girl was… interesting, but it’s not my style. And living in fear of the Hero? No, thank you. So I shed the slave contract, and now I’ll be your one and only.”
”So that’s why the familiar thing?” he asked, his brow furrowing.
”Your one and only familiar,” she said, her voice softening, almost pleading. “You can’t help but feel something special for me, right? Please, Master, cherish me. Love me.”
He fell silent, her words hanging heavy. What did a familiar contract even change? What if Cianie had something to say about it? He opened his mouth to ask, but the words caught in his throat. Her innocent act, her natural knack for stirring trouble, sent a chill down his spine. She was dangerous in her own way.
That day, Klock bound himself to a demon. No end date, no terms—just her will, her control. He’d handed her the reins without realizing it, and the full weight of that mistake wouldn’t hit him until much later.
”By the way, Master,” she said, her voice cutting through the quiet. “Don’t sleep yet. I have something important to talk about.”
”A talk?” he said, his eyes narrowing.
”I want to share a secret with you,” she said, her tone sweet but deliberate. “I’d love to act like your lover, but even I have to show some restraint around the Hero.”
Restraint? She’d dragged her real body here, tangled with him from afternoon to dawn, riding him, kissing him, and she called that restraint? What would she do without it?
”What secret?” he asked, skeptical. “I don’t have any big ones to share.”
”Oh, but you do,” she said, her voice teasing, her eyes glinting. “You’re a Unique Skill holder, aren’t you, Master?”
His heart thudded hard in his chest.
”Melfi’s ability—using another’s Unique Skill. That’s rare,” she said, her voice low, knowing. “And last night, with Ms. Viola, scattering her clones… that was the same ability, wasn’t it? I wasn’t sure after Melfi, but now I’m certain. I saw it with my own eyes.”
”That’s…” he stammered, his mind racing.
No one—not Cianie, not Suzette—had ever come this close to the truth. He’d forgotten, but in Crimson Spire, he’d stolen Melfidis’s Daydream right in front of Kispe, a flashy move to buy time and scare her. It must’ve planted the seed of suspicion. And then, using his skill again in her presence, right under her nose, had confirmed it. Had she been watching him all along, waiting for him to slip?
”Master,” she purred, clinging to his arm, her body pressed close like a lover’s. A faint breeze brushed his neck—not from the sealed window, but from the gentle flap of her dragon-like wings. “I’m your familiar. Your woman, your hands and feet. No secrets from me, please. Tell me. I already know, but I want to hear it from you.”
Her fingers pressed against his furrowed brow, rubbing gently as if to soothe his tension. “A girl wants to be led,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “Even during our first time, I didn’t want to beg for it. I wanted you to take me, even if it was rough.”
”You’re saying my Unique Skill is like… that?” he said, his voice tight.
His Unique Skill was his deepest secret, guarded since childhood. Unlike fools like Zol, who flaunted their abilities, Klock had kept his locked away, a point of pride. Even Cianie and Suzette knew nothing. And now, Kispe?
She’d seen through him completely. She was playful, but sharp—a long-lived demon with knowledge far beyond a human’s. If she’d seen him use it twice, she knew exactly what it was.
”Fine,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “Yeah, my Unique Skill is Bandit. Plunder. I steal other people’s abilities.”
Kispe’s brow furrowed, her expression shifting to a frown. “Master?”
”What?” he said, bracing himself.
”Lying at this point? That’s harsh,” she said, her voice tinged with disappointment. “Your skill isn’t some crude thing called Bandit. It’s a renowned ability, isn’t it? I saw the same skill a hundred years ago. You can’t fool me. Don’t hide it with sad little lies. Trust me with your secret, Master.”
Her words hit like a slap, leaving him reeling, his mind scrambling to process what she’d just revealed.
Notes:
• Clea – younger dog beastkin sister who also serviced Klock previously.
• 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.
• Melfidis – Plant-like Succubus, female, “Lady Kispe’s delicate ring finger.”
• Suzette – The older maid from Viscount Fennec. The head maid at the Viscount Fennec’s villa. She is confident, clear-spoken, and professional.
• Zol – An adventurer and drinking buddy of Klock. He appears with Heysl to intervene in the confrontation between Klock and Sylvia.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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