"So it was in an unexpected place."
"Chueup... mmm."
Jeremy carefully pulled his mouth away from my member.
The head caught slightly on his lips. Jeremy inhaled with a soft "haa" and looked up at me. Half his face was covered in scars. Some might find it grotesque and off-putting. To me, it came across as having a unique charm.
"Did you get a reaction, Your Grace?"
"Yeah. You'd be surprised where it was. His Grace Leraje was on stage. And not as a supporting role—as the male lead."
"Oh my. His hobbies are quite unique too, aren't they?"
Jeremy smiled and lowered his face again. His hot tongue swallowed my shaft. His entire mouth clung to it with a sticky wetness. It felt like being pulled in on its own accord. At least when it came to oral skills, Jeremy was a cut above Laura.
"Being an opera singer isn't something you can do as just a hobby, right?"
"Mmm, mm, hnnn..."
Jeremy answered with a nasal moan laced with whimpers. He was saying "Absolutely not." Come to think of it, performing in opera would require learning not just acting but music as well. It couldn't be easy. Hmm. So that meant Leraje was quite seriously dedicated to opera...
"This might be bad news, Jeremy."
"Hauhp?"
"Ah. Don't stop, just listen. It feels good."
I said while gazing toward the stage.
The pleasure from my lower half intensified further. The speed at which Jeremy moved his face back and forth increased. The singing of the opera performers and Jeremy's squelching saliva sounds reached my ears simultaneously. There was no denying that the quality of the music had improved significantly compared to earlier.
"Remember how Leraje was reluctant to meet with us at first? I just figured he didn't know our intentions and was testing the waters... but if Leraje is a passionate opera singer, there's no way he'd give up the premiere of an opera he's starring in, right?"
"...mmm, mm, hnnhp."
Jeremy paused for just a brief moment.
"Perhaps — though this is just a hypothetical — he may have been hesitant to meet with us simply because the performance schedule overlapped. From what I hear, the shows continue tomorrow and the day after tomorrow too, right? That means he's only free after that. He probably couldn't bring himself to make us wait three whole days, so..."
I laughed awkwardly, trying to smooth over the awkwardness.
"On the other hand, he didn't want to give up the opera performance either. And he didn't want to refuse meeting us outright. So there's a chance he decided to invite us to the premiere and then reveal, 'Surprise — I'm the leading man! What do you think, shocked yet?' as a little bit of entertainment for us... Ah, are you about to finish?"
"Mhm, heh-hmm, mm, mm — mmmph, hnggh."
The shaft trembled five or six times, expelling its seed. Jeremy didn't stop until every last drop was spent. Gulp — she swallowed it all down her throat in one go. The tingling pleasure of climax rippled through me. I took one deep breath.
"Hah... So I basically ended up completely ignoring Leraje's overture. I never imagined my artistic sensibilities would cause problems in a place like this."
"You've managed to make the worst possible impression on him."
Jeremy dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a handkerchief and spoke.
"What are you going to do, Lord Dantalion? You already yawned seventeen times during the entire performance. As an opera performer, Lord Leraje's pride must have hit the ground and then dug its way into a pit underneath."
"Damn it."
I felt genuinely wronged.
"Why would you ever assume I'd share your love for the art you're passionate about? I was dragged along to a boring performance, and now I'm the one stuck wanting to complain."
"That's just how people who love art are. They want the people they care about to enjoy the same things they do. And it's even worse for people in professions like acting — careers built on pride, where you desperately need the attention of others. Lord Leraje probably deliberately showed you his singing and his acting specifically to win Lord Dantalion's favor..."
Jeremy smiled as she spoke. There was no doubt she was still enjoying herself, thinking 'This is getting interesting.' She was a woman corrupted to the very core.
"Now you're trying to dodge responsibility? You're the one who offered to do this in the first place."
"You were the one who granted permission, my lord. You could have ordered me to stop at any point. But even after you realized what was happening, you never once told me to stop. You enjoyed yourself to your heart's content, and now you wish to place the blame on little old me?"
"Oh, would you look at this girl."
But now that I'd started, could I just stop? That was impossible. At least for a man, it was impossible. Once you started, whether a hurricane came barreling in or a terrorist started shooting, you had to see it through to the end.
"Sigh. Fine, fine. What good does it do me to curse you out? Looks like I'm going to have to lie."
"Lie? I don't think a lie is going to fly in a situation where you've clearly committed an act of rudeness in front of everyone."
"Just leave it to me and stop worrying, Jeremy. Hey. Suck me one more time."
Jeremy looked up at me with an expression of utter disbelief.
"Again? Seriously?"
"I have my reasons. If I tell you to suck, then suck."
"No, but more importantly……it's only been a few seconds since you came, and you're already going again?"
Jeremy looked thoroughly suspicious. You really have no idea what kind of stamina I've got, do you, elf captain of the Scarlet Scar Assassination Corps.
"There was a time I spent a day and a night holed up in the Demon Lord's Castle doing nothing but eating and screwing. You could suck until the opera ends and it won't even make a dent."
"Heh."
At that, Jeremy let out a little "heh" and smiled. His eyes weren't laughing, though. It was as if some competitive spirit had been provoked.
"Before I got burned, I was mainly in charge of the honey trap operations for the assassination corps, you know."
"Oh, please. That little technique of yours just now wasn't exactly anything special."
"Well, it was during a performance. But forgive me, Lord Dantalion. If I were to truly get serious, you wouldn't be able to hold back your moans and would end up disturbing everyone around us."
No further words were necessary. A contest had begun between the two of us.
Sure enough, Jeremy stimulated my member with a strength incomparable to before. It felt as though his entire mouth had become a suction cup, pulling with overwhelming force. It was a different dimension entirely. In the single hour remaining before the performance ended, I came roughly seven times.
But I succeeded in keeping my voice in check! Not once across those seven orgasms did I let a single moan escape. My lips were as firm as a citadel gate forged by dwarves. As the performance hurtled toward its finale, Jeremy ramped up his effort too, but it was no use. I nearly let out an "ugh," but I held it in.
The audience rose to their feet in a unified standing ovation. The curtain fell.
"I-It's impossible……this can't be right. This has to be a dream!"
Jeremy muttered hollowly as the thunderous applause poured down around him.
"The woman they once called the Black Rose of Frantapance……no matter how you look at it, to think you didn't make a single sound……"
"This, my foolish Demonkin, is what they call the dignity of a Demon Lord."
He told me coolly.
I hiked up my trousers, stood, and sent a round of applause his way. Meanwhile, Jeremy had collapsed to the floor and was thoroughly commiserating with his own despair. Still, thanks to her, I'd been able to enjoy every last drop of what had otherwise been a tedious opera. I'd give her credit for that at least.
The moment the applause died down, I headed downstairs. The lobby was already packed with spectators. The audience had been so moved by the performance that every time an actor appeared, the entire theater erupted in cheers. The peak of it all came when the actor believed to be Leraje took the stage.
"Jacques Bernard!"
"Oh, Bernard! Over here, please!"
"Aaaah! Jacques! The sixth Bernard!"
Leraje wore a white mask that concealed everything below the nose, leaving only the mouth visible. The stage name appeared to be Jacques Leraje Bernard. He certainly had the aura of a seasoned performer.
Leraje smiled and waved to those around him. In response, the crowd—especially the women—screamed with an intensity that seemed to declare they had firmly resolved to faint today and nobody had better try to stop them. The popularity was staggering.
Leraje's arms were quickly filled with bouquets, and those who had been too late to present theirs scattered flower petals toward the actor instead, better than nothing. Watching the spectacle, I spoke.
"This situation is only getting worse."
"There's even worse news I should share, I'm afraid. An opera actor named Bernard in Frank—it's a name even I, living in the Demon Realm, am familiar with. I've heard it's a family that has been in the music or acting trade for generations."
"So his fame extends beyond the Human Realm all the way into the Demon Realm. Quite the distinguished thespian."
There was no need to look any further. The man had a personality so steeped in pride it could pierce the heavens.
The claim of a multi-generational acting family was almost certainly a fabrication. Just as a descendant inherits from an ancestor, Leraje himself had staged the whole thing—and that ancestor and descendant were both, in fact, just Leraje playing two roles. Realizing this, I felt a certain despair about my own eye for spotting fakes.
"So I yawned through a performance by the world's greatest actor…"
"No wonder it felt a little too good. If it hadn't been for Your Excellency, I would have watched the whole thing through. Sigh."
What could be done about it? The water had been spilled long ago.
I issued a string of instructions to Jeremy. Leraje advanced slowly, barely parting the human tide, making his way toward the theater exit. Before long, he drew close to us. It looked as though he had come by chance, but in reality he had been heading straight for us on purpose.
I broke into a wide smile.
"Brilliant performance, Monsieur Bernard."
"My, my. A most honored guest has come to visit."
Leraje smiled brightly in return.
"If you truly think so, I couldn't be happier. Monsieur Volé."
On the surface, his words carried not a hint of resentment, but the very fact that he was saying them made me uneasy. He was essentially mocking me, asking whether I truly considered his performance brilliant.
The fourteenth-ranked Demon Lord was, without question, a monster among monsters. Someone like me would be dead with a single punch. And that monster was mocking me in the worst possible way. Good grief. My skull throbbed. Nothing in life ever came easy.
I put on my thickest skin and spoke.
"Of course I mean every word. Mademoiselle Barba also deeply regrets that she couldn't attend your performance. As you know, she simply doesn't have the circumstances to come here."
"Oh? Is that so. What an honor."
"Barba," of course, referred to Barbatos. I had implied that I wasn't here purely on personal business, but rather to deliver Barbatos's intentions. I had hoped that hearing Barbatos's name might make him a bit more subdued, but Leraje's expression didn't change one bit.
Leraje looked around.
"This isn't exactly the best place to catch up on old times, is it? How about it, Monsieur Volé? If it wouldn't be too much trouble, would you care to join me in my carriage?"
"Well now. I have to confess, this is the most heart-pounding invitation I've received all year."
And I meant "heart-pounding" in the worst possible sense.
"I accept with pleasure, Monsieur Bernard. I do apologize to the other audience members, but today I shall be claiming the spot at your side."
"Very well. Follow behind me, then. Do be careful not to get swept up in the crowd, haha."
Leraje immediately turned on his heel and headed for the exit. His stride was unhesitating. To me, it looked like proof that beneath his composed expression, he was seething with fury. I followed behind him with Jeremy in tow, struggling to keep up.
We pushed through the crowd and barely managed to climb aboard the carriage. It was an opulent red carriage, pulled by no fewer than four horses — a clear indication of the status Leraje held in this city. I had suspected as much, but it seemed even his origins had been disguised as nobility.
The moment the carriage door closed, Leraje turned to look at us. The vibrant, charismatic aura that had shrouded him as an actor had vanished without a trace. A flat, emotionless voice emerged.
"So. Our esteemed chief strategist of the Plains Faction."
Leraje removed his mask. Beneath it was a strikingly handsome man who looked as though he had been sculpted from marble. Black curly hair hung in heavy coils, like clusters of grapes.
"I wonder if you appreciated my humble performance. Well, I suppose you must have been enjoying it enough to beg for more. As an actor, I've never experienced such an honor."
A cold smile hung at the corners of Leraje's lips. He was clearly hostile toward us.
My mouth went bitter. Come now, my excuse should have been working…