Volume 6 Chapter 50 A Place to Die Is Upon the Battlefield ◇
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”Is this… the end of Karakas?”
The faint scent of scorched cloth clung to her thin underrobe.
Above her, the sky was burning red.
When she strained her ears, the screams of the townsfolk echoed through the air.
From the estate, as she looked out over the town wreathed in searing flame, a single word rose in her mind: ending.
”Princess! It is no longer possible. We must flee. Enemies are surging in from every direction. At this rate, we will share the fate of the Wolfkin,” said a page, breathless as he stumbled into the estate.
A shudder ran through her.
For days, the fighting had been without pause. To defend the town, to defend the nation. Yet the result was Karakas Aronn drowned in a blazing inferno.
The Foxkin bow to no one.
So her father had declared, and the people agreed. Karakas, which had repelled the Wolfkin time and again, had seen no reason to kneel before the Catkin.
And yet now, the Foxkin were about to reach the same end.
At their height, they had held much of the Beast Continent in their grasp. The proud Foxkin’s greatest enemies, the Wolfkin, had been suddenly crushed by the Catkin, who had begun expanding their power without warning.
The Wolfkin king had been executed. Her father, once his rival, had worn a grim expression at the news.
Later, word came that the Wolf princess Ribetta—celebrated as the next bright star—and her kin had all been taken away. The wolf sisters Kuzuha had once met were now said to be extinguished. It left her only with a cold sense of relief.
But she had not thought far enough about where that blade would turn next.
”They’re coming! The Red Cat is heading this way—please, hurry!” shouted a comrade, limping as though wounded.
”It’s no use! Aronn is encircled! The corpses of our fallen soldiers are rising again, attacking our own! The more we die, the more their numbers swell!” another cried.
”That’s why Karakas Sante fell so quickly! That’s why the Wolfkin were swept aside! They have a wielder of heretical magic!”
Survivors stumbled in, each bearing grim tidings.
The Catkin had harnessed a power unknown even to Foxkin who studied the path of Onmyodo. They raised the dead and drove them as corpse soldiers, an abominable sorcery.
Even the proud fortress of Karakas, which had thrown back Wolfkin countless times, could not endure this endless tide. The town was a sea of fire. The battle could not be continued.
”Very well. I shall carve a path—fall back and—”
”No escape, you know. The circle’s already closed.”
The voice came from above the estate.
A woman appeared, cat ears twitching, her hair fluttering red even beneath the veil of night.
”Nyan Law Corps, Red Cat Mina. You’ve done enough harm already,” Kuzuha said.
”It’s the Empress’s orders, so what can I do? If you’d just handed over the Forestkin, none of this would’ve happened. You never obey, never submit. You could’ve lived peacefully under us. But nooo.” she mocked, her voice ringing through the twilight.
The Foxkin soldiers braced for battle. Yet none stepped forward to strike. From the first day, Mina’s overwhelming strength had been plain. No common soldier could hope to face her.
”Curse you Catkin! Such vile arts—how dare you!” one roared.
”Oh? That? That’s the court magician’s magic. Amazing, right? They fight even after death, and unless they’re torn apart, they’ll fight forever. Forestkin are supposed to be the most gifted with magic, and now you see why,” Mina purred.
”Forestkin… you say?” Kuzuha whispered.
She knew the Catkin had champions: the Emperor of the Hundred Beasts Rosemarina, the Demon Cat Irina, and Mina herself. Yet a handful of strong warriors could not alone forge a great nation.
No—their sudden rise was clearly fueled by that heretical magic. Never had she imagined the Forestkin were bound to such evil.
The Forestkin lived also in Karakas. They were the most peaceful and gentle of neighbors, disliking conflict above all. That they would stoop to this—unthinkable.
Her father had said nothing. Why had the Catkin demanded them? Had the Forestkin among the Catkin themselves called for their kin here? The meaning eluded her. This war defied reason.
”Anyway, I’ll be blunt. The Foxkin king’s already captured. All that’s left is to finish the extermination. But we’ll allow surrender, if you prefer. Somebody grab the fox princess, and we’ll accept your yield. If not, I’ll leave. Then the corpse-foxes can feast on you at their leisure.”
Mina grinned, striking a cutesy pose with one raised finger.
She was mocking them. Who would bow to such terms? Even if encircled, the way was not necessarily sealed. As princess, it was her duty to break the siege—for her soldiers, her people.
This will likely be my death.
Father, forgive me. I cannot come to you. I will fulfill my duty and go before you.
”Anti-evil technique—”
She traced a lattice of four by five with her power. The spell flared: an anti-magic ward. Mina, the Red Cat, was a fire-wielder. With this barrier, her flames could be blunted.
”By the three winds of origin, hearken to law!”
Mina’s ears twitched. Her tail snapped up as she sprang to a neighboring rooftop. Flames coiled at her feet, sketching fire-lines across the night. The roof she had left was pierced by three blades of wind and shattered. A violent gust tore through the estate, blasting apart the second floor.
”Everyone—while there’s still time!” Kuzuha cried.
She had prepared herself for death. No matter what, she would help as many of her kin escape as possible. With that resolve and every ounce of magic she could muster, she formed the seal, only to hear cries of “Let’s surrender! It’s hopeless!” and “Princess, forgive us!” Realization of her naivety always came too late.
As a princess, she had never been allowed on the front lines. That oversight had led to her failure in grasping the command and control of her troops. Mina’s call for surrender had signaled that the tide had already turned, but she had been too absorbed in the role of battle to notice.
The impact to the back of her head stole her consciousness in an instant.
For a fleeting moment, she heard the voices of her soldiers.
They had long since lost heart.
When she came to, Kuzuha found herself inside a cage.
”Ah…”
Her body felt unnaturally heavy. Something harmful had invaded her insides, or perhaps it was being siphoned out. She recognized her own extreme weakness. Looking around, she saw her kin sprawled naked on the ground.
”We’ve been… betrayed,” she whispered.
She clutched her throbbing head. The blow must have come from behind. She never imagined any of her kin would fall for Mina’s ploy. Had the front lines been that grueling? The clannish Foxkin betraying their own was unthinkable.
”At least they could have let me fight,” she murmured, tossing the words into the air.
No one responded from the surroundings. It seemed only females were present, perhaps the brave warriors who had fought to the end. Or maybe they had surrendered and ended up here anyway.
Faint breathing reached her ears, but it was feeble. Everyone here, like Kuzuha, must have been utterly drained.
Drained.
Ah, this place must be near the Abyss.
If so…
She quickly pieced together their location. The cage itself confirmed it was a prison. Not just her, but everyone sprawled out suggested they shared the same plight.
The situation resembled a chamber filled with poison gas. But if they meant to kill that way, they would have torn out throats on the battlefield. Assuming this wasn’t intentional slaughter but the normal state here, the Bastili Hundred Pits came to mind.
Those vast insect nests held holes connecting to the Abyss, a fact well known. The Abyss sapped the life from all living things.
—Abyssal Apostle.
She lay face down on the sandy floor for a while, pondering, until those words surfaced. They were what the Forestkin whispered about—a mysterious tale of one bringing doom from the Abyss. The Forestkin had passed down such stories for centuries. It seemed like an unbelievable fairy tale, but she had always found old legends intriguing.
Someone manipulating corpses had allied with the cat Beastkin. And they chose this remote spot for imprisonment. Could the Abyssal Apostle be pulling the strings?
That notion flickered through her mind. Mina had called that figure a Forestkin, but the truth was uncertain. After all, skills to disguise one’s form existed in this world. Without verifying it herself, she couldn’t trust it.
But it’s over now.
Some time had passed since she regained consciousness. She wasn’t sure how much, only that her limits were approaching.
It felt like her soul was being sucked away. A slight lapse in focus, and it seemed to slip from her body, swallowed up. The Abyss was a garbage bin for souls— who had said that odd phrase? Oceans had whirlpools that devoured approaching ships. This must be like that.
Before she knew it, she couldn’t even sit up. The weakening progressed at a terrifying rate. This place was definitely close to the Abyss. No one here would survive. Should she muster her remaining magic to save them all? But no such will stirred within her. It wasn’t just the lack of energy. The thought that betrayers might lurk among her kin made her unwilling to extend a hand.
It was frustrating. She had wanted to fight, at least.
No tears came; perhaps she had dried up. Consciousness faded, swallowed like a corpse. It was a lonely end. If it had to be, she wished for a glorious fall on the battlefield. What had become of her father and mother? Of Karakas? Sinking into regret, she felt…
Soft footsteps approaching from afar.
* * *
A sharp “Unh!” of pleasure jolted her back to awareness, heart pounding. At the same time, she felt something gushing in thick spurts, flooding deep inside.
”What a fine p**sy,” the brute growled. “I could fuck you forever without getting bored.”
He hoisted her up, facing him, thrusting his hips to grind slickly against her depths. He buried his face between her breasts, inhaling deeply as if savoring her scent.
”St-stop… please…” she begged weakly.
”Ain’t stopping,” he snarled. “Told you I’d fuck till I’m empty.”
He rejected her plea and laid her down, looming over her. He lifted her limp legs, exposing her completely.
”N-no… not like this…” she protested.
He ignored her words. With a firm push of his hips, air whooshed from her lungs in a gasp. A lewd squelch echoed as the buildup inside her overflowed. Then the thrusting began, sending scorching waves up her spine that threatened to sear her mind.
It was utter chaos. She knew normal mating didn’t feel this way—her lower body was drenched in sticky white mess.
Her first time had been r**e. Maybe that wasn’t uncommon, but she wished it hadn’t been so messy and prolonged. As the princess of a defeated nation, perhaps she should accept this treatment. But it was still too much. He wouldn’t let her go, no matter how long it went on.
No words passed between them, just the rhythmic slapping of flesh. Desperate for mercy, she clutched at him. He captured her lips, and she wrapped her arms around him in appeal. His tongue invaded, seizing hers hungrily, sucking as if to draw her out.
She broke the kiss for air, and his movements intensified. She knew he was about to release again. Escape was impossible—her body was limp, and the musky scent assaulted her no matter where she turned her face. He squeezed her close, mouthing her breast.
Spurt after spurt erupted, thick and forceful.
Fresh seed flooded in. “Poured” didn’t fit; it was more like slamming. The power and insistence drove home what violation truly meant. He forced his essence into her womb without consent. How rude and vile males were to crave this without a woman’s agreement.
She could not help but imagine her belly swelling, the thought forced upon her as his weight bore down. Each thrust stripped away the fragile illusion of the future she once envisioned. She learned then what she had never wanted to know: a man’s climax lingered. Once it began, it held her down, smothering her, reminding her that this was the truth of his nature.
Males pinned females, drove themselves deep, and forced their seed inside. Even the ones who wore masks of civility—those men she had met before—must have harbored this same craving.
”Open your mouth,” he ordered.
When at last he pulled free, he shifted and straddled her face. His arousal loomed above, pressed toward her lips. The meaning was clear. She wanted to shove him away, scream her refusal—but her body was too weak. And worse, she feared that if she denied him, he would simply drive himself back into her womb. Her lips parted on their own.
”Mnn… slurp, lick…” she whispered around him.
When her tongue traced along him, she caught his brief grimace. That flicker of feeling was proof he felt it. Yet he was too large; awkward, unyielding, impossible to handle properly. She knew nothing of such arts—never thought his kind could be so immense, nor how other women managed it. Perhaps she should have studied the ways of serving men, if only to survive this.
In the end, he forced her once more beneath him. This time he spilled not into her belly, but in her mouth, pressing her to swallow. It struck her then—that this was what he had wanted all along. Not creation, but a mark. A claim.
”Beast,” she whispered.
She lost count of the times he took her. Sleep finally claimed her, only to be broken by a drop of water on her cheek.
The cave was dark, lit only by a single glowing fire-stone. The chamber felt like an ant’s nest, suffocating and foul. When she saw him awake, her first words spat out like venom.
”You bastard.”
He turned, smiling with infuriating ease. The smug curve of his lips mocked her. He acted as though victory were his right, though he had needed only a trinket to bring her low.
”Glad to see you’re alive,” he said. “I was just thinking it’s about time we set out.”
”If I had the strength, I’d kill you where you stand. I will never forgive you.”
He rose, brushing sand from his clothes with maddening calm. She looked down at herself, at the mess between her thighs. His seed smeared her skin, clotted with dirt, leaving her filthy and raw. She wanted nothing more than to bathe, to scrub away the stench.
”Then I’ll leave you here,” he said.
Her breath caught. “—What?”
He shrugged with false weariness.
”Of course. That shackle won’t come off. You’d turn against me the moment you could. And without magic, you’re dead weight. I thought I’d take you along if you obeyed. But you clearly want me dead. So this is goodbye.”
He turned toward the tunnel. Desperation seized her, and she caught his leg.
”Don’t you dare! After all this—you can’t just abandon me!”
”Why not? You did the same to the Wolf Princess. Be glad I didn’t piss on you too.”
”We had history,” she hissed.
”Then so do we now. End of story.”
”Wait! Please!”
Her teeth ground until her jaw ached. She had to endure. Left here, she would die. Without magic she was powerless, and she knew it.
”Fine. I take it back. I’ll forgive what you did. I’ll obey. Just… don’t leave me here.”
”Really?” He smirked. “Follow me, and I’ll f**k you every day.”
”…If that’s what it takes.”
It wasn’t. Nothing could justify it. But better that than rotting in this hole. She still had things to do. If she thought of herself as already dead, then rape was nothing more than a dog bite.
She lifted her gaze to him, swallowing her bile. He smiled, sly and cruel, as though her submission were the prize he had wanted all along.
”Well then. Let’s go free the Wolf Princess.”
She froze. “What?”
”You can’t fight, and I want her free. Makes sense.”
”You’re joking.”
”Why? I was the one who freed her the first time. Nothing strange about doing it again.”
It was insane. Freeing her was suicide. Even if she herself was neutralized, he would be in mortal danger.
”I didn’t want things to end with her like they did. I only obeyed you then because I had to. Now that you’re powerless, freeing her is obvious.”
”She’ll kill you. You r**ed her.”
”And if I said I’d still save her?”
His lips twitched; his eyes glinted with amusement. He was lying—teasing her, toying with her. Or perhaps not. She could not be sure, and the wrong answer could destroy her.
What a maddening man. But she understood one thing: he wanted something from her. He relished the role of master, wanted her compliance, wanted her submission. Perhaps it was her title, her station, that drove him mad with it. He had taken everything he wanted—yet still he demanded more.
”Well then,” he said. “Let’s head down.”
”Wait—”
A new voice cut through the cave.
”There’s no need. I am already here.”
Notes:
• Mina – 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.
• Rosemarina – The formal title of the Empress; refers to her authority and influence over the Beast Continent.
• Irina – She introduced herself as the innkeeper’s name, a 32-year-old with a youthful appearance, who enjoys being sexually satisfied by Klock. A beastkin cat.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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