Volume 6 Chapter 7 Apology Service ◇
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”Ah, good job, Klock. Keep it up.” Her voice was a low murmur, a silky thread weaving through the cool evening air.
A gentle breeze slipped in through the open back of the carriage, mingling with the soft, wet rhythm of her breath.
”…Ah, it’s really good. More importantly, you’re incredibly skilled. You must have tended to more than just Suzette’s needs, huh?” Gildegant’s voice trembled with something like amused approval.
Her leg curved around his neck with a confident grace, the pressure firm but tender. He felt the warmth of her touch as she stroked the nape of his head, an unspoken affection grounding him.
”Yeah, I thought so. A man like you—one who crosses lines without hesitation—would have no qualms about getting his hands dirty. You’re not the type to care about keeping things clean. You must have quite the history before Suzette.” Her voice was a slow drawl, teasing yet sharp.
Was it her skill or some unseen force? The Flame General seemed weightless, even as he hoisted her with a graceful, inverted shoulder carry. His neck felt neither strained nor confined; she floated as if buoyed by some subtle magic.
”Damn, you’re such a lecher,” she breathed, fingers tangling in his hair as she spoke in a husky murmur. “Well, go ahead and show me everything you’ve learned. Then, maybe apologize to Suzette for what you did… Unnh!”
Her voice dipped into something more intimate, playful, as waves of warmth pooled between them. Despite her words, the heat in her was undeniable. Klock accepted her desire silently, a soft sigh stirring deep inside.
Why on earth was I here, caught beneath the touch of a high-ranking officer of the Demon Lord’s army?
He cupped her with steady hands, supporting the swell of her body, his tongue tracing delicate, teasing circles that sent a shiver rippling through her. His lips brushed along her folds with a careful gentleness, and she trembled, the faintest quiver betraying her pleasure.
She was clearly enjoying this.
Earlier, she’d grilled him about how things had begun with Suzette—the narrowing of her eyes sharp, unyielding, leaving no space for half-truths or evasions. Gildegant’s aura seemed to demand honesty; a single slip could unravel him.
So Klock confessed—too quickly, too honestly. There was no time to spin tales or soften the truth. He’d tried to frame it as something less severe, speaking cautiously of coercion, but she was unforgiving.
”In other words, you attacked my subordinate. Is that it?” The words were cold, a trap snapping shut around him.
She’d likely suspected from the start. Anyone else might have doubted such a conclusion, but with Klock, suspicion was warranted. It was unthinkable for a woman like Suzette to choose a man so evidently brutal—there had to be more to the story.
Sweat traced a slick path down his back, and instinctively, he took a step back, desperate for a way out, a sliver of mercy. He silently begged for Suzette’s intervention.
Frozen and at a loss, Gildegant curved a sly, almost mischievous smile, as if savoring his discomfort.
”If Suzette has forgiven it, then I won’t interfere in your relationship. Even if it began with violence, now you’re… lovers. Not unheard of.” Her eyes gleamed dangerously. “But, Klock, don’t you owe me some sort of… repayment? Hm?”
She had claimed Suzette for herself in that moment—attacking her was tantamount to a challenge against the Demon Lord’s own ranks.
With no will to resist, Klock bowed his head, the weight of her demand settling over him. To curry favor with a figure so formidable, he surrendered fully.
And so, he offered himself to her.
The taste of her was sharp, bracing, like salt carried on the sea breeze. Warriors and commanders alike seemed to crave such offerings—an initiation, a display of submission that spoke louder than words.
He cast a sideways glance at her, flushed and alive beneath his care. It reminded him of Tiet, another power-hungry figure who’d once caught him fleeing the kingdom—only to demand similar acts with a cruel amusement.
Even those hailed as heroes, supposed beacons of salvation, wielded domination as naturally as breath in this harsh world.
The weak bend to the will of the strong. Just as women had been compelled to submit to men, so too did men sometimes yield to women in power.
”Nn… kuh ♡ That’s good! Tongue there, chuko chuko… kuh… ♡” Gildegant’s voice was a velvet sigh, her body arching beneath his ministrations.
He hated discordant scents, which was why he usually avoided this, but his skill was undeniable—and with care, he’d drawn desire from strangers before.
Holding her close, Klock lavished attention like a lover still discovering the terrain of a new affection, his every motion deliberate and tender.
”You’re… really… nn ♡ Maybe you like me?” she murmured, breathless.
Was it love? This measured care, this lingering devotion—cunnilingus was a language of pleasure spoken solely for her. The depth of his attentiveness might well be mistaken for something more.
”Damn it, ah, I’m ♡ Hey, keep at it, nn ♡ Don’t stop until I say.”
Suddenly, she shifted, pulling him down to the floor with a force that shattered the fragile stillness between them. Gravity reclaimed them; Gildegant lay back, breath quick, fingers threading into the nape of his neck as she urged him onward.
The softest, most delicate part of her quivered in his mouth, as if pleading for release. He responded with patient, reverent care—slickening and teasing, drawing her closer to the edge.
”Ungh! Kuu…! Unn♡” she gasped, a sound both strained and exquisite.
Her body tensed, limbs trembling, her hand rising instinctively to her mouth to stifle the mounting storm.
”She’s come. That was quick.”
Yet the pleasure was far from spent for one such as her.
While images of wicked delight raced through his mind, Klock continued his ministrations, tracing the curves of her desire, coaxing every shudder from her trembling form.
”Unuuh?! No, you──unh! Unn♡”
Her body convulsed in waves, trembling with residual shivers that spilled into restless motion. Each aftershock rolled through her like a forgotten tide, cresting into something hungrier, deeper. Gildegant moved without clarity or control—knees pressing hard into the earth, heels scuffing behind her in short, frantic bursts, as if trying to outrun the fire still blooming inside her.
”Stop… clinging—damn it♡ Ahh! This—this is… ahhh♡”
The cry burst from her, torn between outrage and surrender. Her thighs kicked out involuntarily. Her hips arched skyward. Her mouth opened on nothing, then closed again, chasing breath that wouldn’t come fast enough.
And still, he kissed her—again, and again—low, slow, reverent. Not hurrying. Not halting. The strokes of his mouth were soft as silk dragged across a live wire, coaxing tremors that only tightened in response. Gildegant’s hands twitched in the grass. The breath in her throat broke. A ragged jolt shuddered through her again.
”You… You think I’m Suzette, is that it? You idiot♡“
Her voice cracked—hoarse, accusatory, wet with disbelief—and yet she made no move to pull away. She said stop, but her hands didn’t push. Her hips didn’t retreat. Instead, they quivered and lifted toward him again, betraying her.
After a long moment, after the storm in her finally began to fade to glow, she gave a subtle, reluctant nod. A signal.
He slowed. Gave her one last, deep press of his lips—parting gently from the heat of her—and then lifted his face.
Gildegant looked utterly transformed. Her lips, still parted, wore a smile that flickered between seduction and smugness. She tilted her head, lashes low, her femininity sharpened to something almost theatrical.
She looked, at that moment, more like a royal courtesan than a commander in the Demon Lord’s Army.
Klock said nothing about dignity. He knew better. When it came to sex, even the righteous lost composure—and Gildegant, for all her battlefield brilliance, was no exception. It was ludicrous to expect nobility at a time like this.
”Damn it,” she said, voice husky as she sat up and gestured him closer with two fingers. “You were born to worship me.”
He blinked, disoriented. “What… what are you even saying?”
Her mouth curled into something close to a dare. “Come here. Let me see it.”
She didn’t wait. As he hesitated, she sat back with an air of command, legs sprawled with intent. Her fingers flexed in invitation.
Normally, he’d make a show of resistance. Joke his way around it. Say something like “This is a little much, you know~” and delay. But today wasn’t normal. Something in her tone—something sharp and private—left no room for teasing.
Suzette’s eyes flashed unbidden through his mind. Cold. Unreadable.
”…What are you doing?” Gildegant pressed, her voice impatient now, a dangerous edge curling beneath it. “Take off your clothes. Do it right in front of me.”
His pulse thumped wildly. Still, he obeyed, fingers fumbling. Her gaze sharpened as she watched him reveal himself. When she finally reached out and took hold, her palm was confident, greedy.
”Well, well. Look at you,” she murmured, bringing her face dangerously close. Her breath ghosted along the shaft. “You’re swollen. Hard. Dammit, Klock♡ You were ready to screw me, weren’t you♡ All that devotion to Suzette, and here you are, aching for another woman’s touch♡”
She inhaled softly near the base, nostrils flaring like she wanted to memorize the scent of his betrayal.
”You’re some piece of work,” she said, lips brushing just above him. “No wonder Suzette’s always so tense.”
”N-no, wait—guys get like this when they see… you know, sexy stuff!”
He tripped over the words, face coloring with guilt.
She raised her eyebrows with amused contempt. “That’s your excuse? Seriously?” Her tone turned mocking, voice husky with laughter. “You’re with one woman, and you spring a hard-on for another. Even a child could tell you that’s cheating.”
Ouch.
But also: wasn’t she the one who dragged him here in the first place?
”I’ll tell Suzette about this later,” she added, matter-of-fact, hand tightening on him. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
”Eeh… that’s a bit—”
His protest cut off mid-breath. A sudden jolt shot through him as her mouth found him without preamble.
A low, velvet pop marked the first contact.
”Ohhh—“
She didn’t ease in. Her mouth took him fully, lips sealing around him with a practiced, hungry rhythm. The heat was immediate—her tongue a slick coil around the tip, her breath hot and quick.
”W-wait, that’s not—!”
Her arm slid around his waist and pulled. He was pinned, caught flush against her body, no room to retreat.
”Sis, if Suzette sees—!”
Gildegant lifted her chin slightly, her voice muffled but pointed. “Hmph. Cheater.” She dipped back down with a wet, dragging kiss that left him gasping. “Doesn’t matter if she sees. You still got hard for me, didn’t you?” Another warm lap of her tongue. “And now your body’s telling the truth.”
He wanted to argue—but the words tangled, collapsed.
Her tongue circled the head in intricate swirls, as though memorizing every contour. She sucked him slowly, deliberately, like drawing nectar from the core of a rare fruit. It was revenge. It was intimacy. It was everything at once.
And she was good. Too good.
Pleasure pulsed sharp behind his eyes. Logic frayed at the edges. He was drowning in the feeling—her mouth relentless, her hand tightening at the base, her rhythm coaxing him toward an edge he couldn’t resist.
Klock’s thoughts blurred. He thought of Suzette—her quiet faith, her steadiness—and a twist of guilt rippled through him. They’d lived together. Grown into something like stability. He hadn’t planned this.
But resisting Gildegant had never been simple.
She was a woman who spent her life alone. Maybe this was how she connected—through command, through friction, through heat.
He knew: if he pushed her away now, she’d burn. And not in the way she wanted.
Still, his mind scrambled for an exit—some word, some gesture to end this without fallout.
But there were none.
That’s when the sound came.
A dry cascade, like beads spilling from a shattered pouch. It echoed, brittle and light, just beyond the carriage.
He froze.
The fire outside was dying down. A silhouette appeared at the edge of the camp, cast in amber flickers.
A figure. Watching.
His blood ran cold.
”Gyaah—Suzette!?“
There she stood, backlit and expressionless, her gaze unwavering.
”Tsk, tsk.” Her voice was quiet, dispassionate. “You’re leaking all over the place. Real eager for an affair, aren’t you?”
Gildegant didn’t pause. If anything, she sucked harder—an audible schluup, long and defiant.
Suzette folded her arms. “So. How far were you planning to take this betrayal?”
The question was like frost. But Klock was still immobilized, caught in Gildegant’s grip—half-wrapped in warmth, half-suffocated by shame.
The tension thickened. Even in silhouette, Suzette’s fury was palpable. Her quiet radiance didn’t flare outward—it compressed inward, condensed into something dangerous.
”W-wait… no… it’s not like that, Suzette!! It’s… it’s…”
She tilted her head, calm as ice. “…Hmm?”
Her silence was worse than shouting.
Klock’s body betrayed him again. Another surge, rising against his will.
Chuu~, chup, chupp, chupppp♡
Each sound felt louder now, a humid, echoing percussion of guilt. It pulled at his senses, dulled his thoughts.
Klock stood there, trapped between the two women, heart hammering, brain scrambled.
His body arched—again—already nearing a second peak. A signal, maybe, from some base survival instinct.
”W-wait, Sis! Suzette’s—!”
But Gildegant didn’t stop.
Her mouth stayed wrapped tight, her tongue greedy and skilled. She knew exactly how to unravel him, inch by inch. Her tempo increased, and his strength buckled beneath it.
If she had been a nameless girl from some roadside brothel, maybe Klock could’ve surrendered to the sensation without the stir of dread at his core. But the sound of her—that sound—was unmistakable: a wet, insistent rhythm, thick and unrelenting, echoing through the small, open carriage. It filled the space without apology, clashing against the cold night air that drifted in like a judgment.
Then something occurred to him. Slowly, horrifically.
Unlike him, Gildegant could sense magic.
Which meant she’d known Suzette was coming.
She had known. And she hadn’t stopped.
She was doing this on purpose.
”…Hmm.”
The sound came from behind him, soft and unreadable.
Klock couldn’t see Suzette’s face—she was backlit by firelight, her expression veiled by shadow—but he felt her stare as if it had hooked itself under his skin. Fear, confusion, and pleasure crashed inside him, pulling taut across his nerves. His body, completely uncooperative, pulsed traitorously in Gildegant’s mouth.
His shaft throbbed with growing urgency, heat climbing his spine like rising mercury. He tried to plead with his eyes—This isn’t what I wanted, please, understand—but Suzette’s stillness radiated something colder than winter air.
He was at the edge. Beyond reasoning. Beyond delay.
His body chose for him.
His hips gave a shallow jolt, involuntary and sharp. The pleasure surged forward, white-hot and blinding, no longer tethered to thought.
The release was sudden, violent—his body jerking against the carriage floor, flooding her mouth with a thick, heated rush.
“Mmbug…! …Mmm…”
She made no move to pull back. In fact, she tightened, pressing herself against his hips as though daring him to underestimate her resolve. Her brow furrowed slightly, the only outward sign of discomfort—but she held fast. No gasp, no recoil. Just stubborn, unyielding control.
She didn’t flinch. She dug in.
And that was the worst part.
No—
No, that’s not it at all… this isn’t right…
The cold presence behind him didn’t shift. Didn’t speak. But Suzette knew—of course she did. No one could mistake the truth of what had just happened.
Even as warmth drained from him, the air around him grew colder. He turned his head slightly, ashamed, but it was pointless. There was no disguising what had happened. Gildegant had made certain of that.
The confusion didn’t fade. If anything, the aftershocks made it worse.
Her mouth didn’t stop—not even in the lull between pulses. She milked him, slow and methodical, as though his climax had only marked the halfway point. Her lips pulled with practiced pressure, her tongue coaxing out every last thread of sensation.
It was meticulous. Mechanical. Ruthless.
She wasn’t showing affection. She was extracting.
It felt less like sex and more like a shakedown.
He was a purse turned inside-out.
And she—the commanding officer of the Demon Lord’s Army—was schooling his anatomy in the art of surrender.
”You bastard,” she murmured at last, lips slick, voice breathy with mock indignation. “What an enormous load you just dumped into me. Without even asking permission. Hah—what a scoundrel♡ You must love me. You can’t deny it now, can you? Ahh, you rogue♡”
With a final, lewd pop, she released him. And then, as if the theatrics hadn’t been enough, she turned toward Suzette—who still stood frozen just outside the open carriage—and declared it aloud. Bold. Cruel. Meant to wound.
Klock’s blood iced over.
Why would she say that? Here? Now?
She knew. She had to know what this meant.
”Iya… such things…” he mumbled, not even sure what he was attempting to say.
”…Eh?”
The question came gently, mockingly.
”…Nothing.”
He couldn’t lie. But he couldn’t confess, either.
Suzette didn’t move. Didn’t climb into the carriage. She just stood there, perfectly still, her posture unreadable—but her silence had a weight to it, like a mountain poised to collapse.
”Lady Gildegant,” she said finally, her voice light and composed, as though the last five minutes had not happened. “You must be exhausted. I recommend resting.”
Gildegant stretched lazily, unconcerned. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll sleep in here. You two can bunk down close by.”
”Thank you. Today was exhausting,” Suzette said simply.
Klock stood paralyzed. She had accepted the statement without flinching. Without a trace of accusation. Which somehow made it worse.
Then Gildegant moved—unbothered, unhurried. She pulled a blanket over herself with the easy grace of someone utterly unashamed, draped it across the back of the carriage, and reclined with a satisfied sigh. Her clothes slipped back on as if by magic. Straw bunched beneath her as a pillow. Within moments, she was dozing.
Klock watched her, then slowly turned toward the source of his growing dread.
Suzette.
”…Suzette. This is—”
”I wish to speak with you tomorrow,” she interrupted, curt.
”No, but—”
”I won’t listen.”
She said it without anger. Without expression. Just finality.
Then she turned and walked around the carriage to the driver’s bench. He heard a soft thud as she sat. And then nothing.
He was alone.
We’ve been given time, he thought bitterly. Until tomorrow.
Klock turned toward the woman who had detonated this entire mess.
Gildegant lay watching him through half-lidded eyes, her smile lazy and triumphant. She said nothing—but the message was clear. She was delighted with herself. She had overheard everything. And she was relishing it.
Klock wanted to scream.
There was no question anymore: this had been sabotage. Whether it came from a perverse impulse to steal what wasn’t hers, or simply a desire to torment him, he didn’t know.
But her message was simple:
She did not accept his bond with Suzette.
And now, the rift between them had widened to a chasm.
The worst part? He’d let it happen.
It was supposed to be a long-anticipated journey. Just the two of them.
But now, it wasn’t just the two of them anymore.
And tomorrow had suddenly become a very long way off.
He sat back, head in his hands.
All he wanted—honestly—was a moment to complain.
Notes:
• Gildegant – One of the Four Generals of the Demon Lord. Flame General.
• Suzette – The older maid from Viscount Fennec. The head maid at the Viscount Fennec’s villa. She is confident, clear-spoken, and professional.
• Tiet – A companion and friend of Anna. A holy knight from the royal capital. She wears light armor and carries a shield adorned with a dragon holding a sword, indicating her affiliation with the National Military Police. She is concerned about Anna’s well-being and tries to support her emotionally.
Please bookmark this series and rate ☆☆☆☆☆ on here!
Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
Leave a Reply