HPV 100

Finally freed from the clutches of the cult and truly safe, Riarun still didn’t know he was safe—he spent days in sobs and restless thrashing.

But when he held him in his arms, he fell asleep peacefully.

His red, swollen eyes shimmered with dewdrop-like tears. He looked so dazed he might go limp if lifted just like this.

Banwes, watching Riarun sleep deeply with ragged breaths, was lost in thought.

Was it coincidence?

Had it simply been time for him to calm down?

Or maybe all he needed was warmth—would the same have happened if someone else had held him?

If Banwes got up from the bed and let someone else hold him, the answer would be clear.

He felt the slim waist beneath his fingers, and the small but vibrant pulse of life beating within.

…He didn’t want to test that theory. He wanted it to be his. He wanted Riarun to respond only to him.

The very idea of someone else holding Riarun—even for the sake of healing—was repulsive. A sly, hot jealousy boiled up from deep in his belly.

He didn’t sleep at all. Banwes kept watching Riarun sink into peace, over and over.

Like a blind man addicted to sunlight for the first time. Like someone newly captivated by the blue sky. Like a child tasting sugar for the very first time.

I was a comfort to Riarun.

Riarun unconsciously sought me out.

I had become his resting place.

The beliefs that had once anchored Banwes’s very core began to shift—toward the suffocating emotion he now held for the small form in his arms.

It was a sweet fantasy.

The heat behind him. The arms tightly wrapped around him.

Within the warmth like hot water, Riarun slowly blinked, pulling his vision into focus.

When he tried to turn his body, the arms around him held tighter.

When he tried to at least turn his head, a large hand came up and gently fixed his head in place.

Riarun’s eyes flew open as he twisted slightly.

A heavy stench of blood hung in the air.

“Wait… Look at me.”

As Riarun squirmed, the arms reluctantly loosened. He turned over, and their eyes met.

His body hadn’t fully returned yet to its human form. His nape, neck, forearms—here and there, ugly black skin bulged and split open.

Blisters bigger than a fist seemed to bubble up everywhere. His left cheek, forehead, and right eyeball were still in monstrous form.

Banwes shut his eyes tight.

He looked like a man walking to the gallows.

How much had the man longed for—and feared—the first words to fall from Riarun’s lips?

“You… you’re hurt. Are you okay?”

Riarun suddenly sat up, brows furrowed.

Even as his body swayed, his gaze didn’t leave the bandages wrapped around the man’s body.

It was a wound from days ago. That Riarun was only now pointing it out felt strangely new.

Banwes stared blankly at Riarun’s gaunt cheeks.

Why are you worrying about me? Don’t you realize the state your body’s in?

That gaze, the hand reaching out, those words of concern… they made his chest ache with happiness.

…But suddenly, reason returned.

The man hurried to stop Riarun.

His monstrous hand couldn’t bear to grab Riarun’s wrist, so he covered his forehead instead.

“No. Think of your body…”

A faint but distinct blue light began to seep from Riarun’s hand.

Banwes didn’t have time to stop him.

It was without a doubt the power of a spirit.

Riarun had drawn it out unknowingly, and when he saw the healing light flow safely from him, he sighed in relief.

Rohin must not have died. That was a relief.

Soon, Yurichen opened the door and entered.

He touched Riarun’s forehead, checked his pulse and breathing rate, and lightly spread his divine power to make sure his qi was flowing well.

“Riarun… How do you feel? Say anything.”

Though he had only just awoken after several days, Riarun still looked dazed and hazy, drawing concern.

Lying there with a blank expression, Riarun finally fixed his gaze on the High Priest’s face.

“Is that priest alive? The one who tried to guide me into the temple.”

That was the first thing he said after coming back from the brink of death.

Yurichen looked down at him quietly for a moment.

“Yes. He’s alive.”

Riarun exhaled slowly through his nose and closed his eyes.

Yurichen turned his head away.

As Yurichen walked out, Banwes, who was still on the bed, followed him with a sidelong glance.

Just then, Riarun grabbed the hem of his clothes.

“Don’t go.”

For the first time since waking, a fragile, anxious light appeared in Riarun’s olive-colored eyes.

Banwes nodded deeply, with eyes full of gentleness.

“Alright.”

That answer, instead, seemed to surprise Riarun—though he was the one who asked.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“I want to be by your side.”

Color returned to Riarun’s pale face. He kept his eyes lowered for a while, clutching tightly at Banwes’s collar.

After taking a few bites of the porridge Yurichen brought, he grew drowsy from exhaustion and soon fell asleep.

It made sense. His body still hadn’t recovered from the trauma of having nearly every bone shattered, and his mind and soul had just been released after being toyed with by Hancanera.

Just making it back like this was proof of his strength.

Banwes gently stroked the hair that had been cut from behind Riarun’s ear.

Cutting hair didn’t cause pain, but he still touched it with delicate care, frowning slightly.

The short hair suited him. In truth, it was beautiful—always, at any time.

With his red eyes fixed on the Riarun he held again and again, Banwes suddenly touched his chin.

Of course. A stubbly beard had grown in.

No miracle had occurred to stop his beard from growing for a day.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t even washed his face.

Heat rose to his face belatedly at the realization that Riarun had woken up and seen him in this disheveled state.

The high priest, who had spent the past few days taking care of countless chores himself, even had to run errands to fetch a razor.

Banwes thought he could live forever as an unmoving object—Riarun’s pillow.

He watched as Riarun blinked his eyes open from sleep.

It was a hazy afternoon. A lazy, gentle stillness settled over them like warm rain.

“…What are you thinking about?”

A small heart was thudding.

It should have felt like a sensation full of joy and excitement, but a strange unease crept down Banwes’s spine.

“That your heart is beating fast.”

It wasn’t from delight—it was tension.

Riarun was tense in his arms. But why?

This time, slender fingertips dug into Banwes’s palm. Riarun clenched his fist tightly.

“Back then… in front of the library… I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it.”

The words were heavy with long-standing guilt.

He looked visibly smaller, like saying it had taken everything he had.

To Banwes, it no longer held meaning.

But the fact that Riarun had mustered the courage to apologize made him close his eyes and sink into the depth of feeling.

***

Things had come to this point—surely now the high priest, and Banwes too, must have realized it. The ill fate between me and the cult.

He saved me from the cult, but I never even apologized for the cruel words I’d thrown at him in front of the library.

Everything felt too late, and the thought tore at my chest.

“I was afraid that if I acted close to you… Hancanera would hurt you…”

It was easy to imagine.

If it were Hancanera, he would have dragged someone I treasured and dismembered them before my eyes—or made them watch as he violated me.

The latter nearly happened.

My throat tightened.

I hadn’t been able to speak of this until now—because Hancanera had sealed my words.

But now they came.

“After he took control of my consciousness, he watched everything I saw… through me, he saw you, too. He saw everything we did. Isn’t it disgusting? Because of me, you were exposed to that filthy man. You were disrespected, humiliated.”

My voice trembled, a thin sob seeping through.

I’d tried to say it calmly, slowly—but before I knew it, I was whining.

Yet Banwes, even after hearing something so shocking, wasn’t surprised.

His red-lake eyes remained perfectly still, without the slightest breeze.

Even knowing that Hancanera had seen him in heat, had watched everything through me…

Even though he normally hated being exposed to others.

“I used to think you were possessed by a demon. All I need to do is replace ‘demon’ with ‘cult leader.’

A demon, of course, shares in every move of its host.

Weren’t you the one who underestimated demons?

They don’t just destroy the human body—they destroy the heart, too.”

Still, tears hung from my lashes in a gloomy shimmer.

Banwes gave a faint smile.

One side of his lips twitched slightly—the other was still covered in monstrous black flesh.

“Did he post a bulletin with everything about you and me?”

“…No.”

Of course not.

“Did he share it with other followers?”

I could tell what he was getting at. I shook my head gently.

A rush of emotion welled up inside me—not because of Hancanera, but because of the tenderness in Banwes’s gaze.