HPV 25

“Damn it.”

Crude words he didn’t even know he could use swelled up in Banwes’s mouth. He flung the young man he had been carrying onto the battered bed of the abandoned house as if throwing down a sack.

When Riarun mentioned “that” earlier, Banwes’s patience snapped as the memory of past sensations came flooding back. He scowled, double-checking that Yurichen had gone off to another room with Paronai.

The dusty-smelling dark room, the bed where Riarun had lain— even the faint lingering sweet scent at the edge of his lips revived old memories.

Those red lips had parted beneath his, saliva mingled, breath growing heated, and somewhere in his body had swelled with rising heat.

That “somewhere” —the body part animals used when mating to create offspring. As hot blood surged there, a sharp tingling urged him to grab and squeeze or rub it against something.

His biological father must have violated his mother that way to bring such a monster into the world.

Banwes’s heat died down as if it had all been an illusion. He looked down at the young man, now deeply asleep, with a vicious glare.

There was no way he was feeling lust. Those sensations he’d remembered must have been the work of the demon that dwelled within Riarun. He believed that without a doubt.

A villager knocked at the door and lent them a large pot to heat water for bathing.

When Banwes turned back after accepting it, he saw that the round shape on the bed had curled up even smaller.

Even in drunken sleep, Riarun had drawn himself tightly inward. Banwes found the sight displeasing.

‘Why would a kid who lived so sheltered have a habit like that? Like a prey animal terrified of being bitten at the neck.’

Worse yet, Riarun would often flinch awake, over and over. Thanks to that, Banwes had been woken up multiple times throughout their journey.

The way he trembled looked so much like a wounded animal that it stirred a reluctant sympathy—made it even harder to tear his eyes away.

‘…I’ll have to fix this.’

If this continued, it would only cause him trouble. Without thinking through exactly what sort of trouble, Banwes moved.

First, he tried placing a pillow against Riarun’s body to get him to hug it. But when he looked again a short while later, the pillow had been kicked aside and Riarun had curled up alone once more.

“…”

Banwes decided on a more drastic measure. Justifying it with the fact that the two of them were sharing the room alone.

He straightened Riarun’s curled body and pulled the slack limbs close, pressing the boy’s chest, stomach, hips, and thighs tightly against his own.

It resembled the way a baby animal clung to its mother. This way, Riarun wouldn’t be able to curl up anymore— even if he tried to pull his knees to his chest, Banwes’s body was in the way.

The boy’s heat-drenched, dry body radiated a faint, sticky warmth. Banwes liked how unaffected he remained despite the contact, and leaned in to study the sleeping face up close.

During the time when the flames had seared his outer skin in agony, he had thought:

If he had a god, it would look like this.

—Hold on to me. I’ll save you.

If gods existed, they would have eyes like these, voices like these…

—You washed yourself but left me like this? After I saved your life?

…Well, maybe not that part.

Still, thinking about it, the brat’s rudeness wasn’t so hard to understand. Who in this world helps without expecting anything in return— especially when faced with a grotesque beast like him?

Banwes’s reason slowly returned to what it had been before meeting Riarun.

‘It ends tonight. This human will no longer be able to toss me around at will. …At the very least, I’ll make sure he can’t drink again.’

—

The sluggishness of drunken sleep turned into a dreadful headache once the sun rose. Feeling like my skull might split open, I discreetly used my spiritual power to heal it.

Having fallen asleep without properly washing, I was a mess. Desperate, I hunted down a basin of water and dunked my face into it.

Drinking until your mind melts— overall, it wasn’t the worst experience, but not something I needed to repeat.

As I wandered down the unfamiliar hallways of the house, Paronai approached.

“Do you remember what you did in the square yesterday?”

Paronai’s voice was grave, giving the impression I had made some catastrophic mistake.

Paronai, who always woke up earliest to jog a lap and loosen up, carried the crisp scent of the morning breeze.

“Did I say something weird?”

“Mm. I didn’t catch most of it, but… I think it was funny?”

If it was funny, at least it wasn’t about the Order. As long as I hadn’t ranted about that, I didn’t care what nonsense I’d spouted. I let out a relieved breath.

“Did I strip naked or something?”

“No! That definitely didn’t happen!”

Paronai flailed his hands, horrified. Apparently, he still hadn’t shaken off his initial impression of me.

“Did I hit someone?”

“Not exactly… you, uh, petted someone…”

Paronai’s gaze drifted, as if replaying the scene, and the tips of his ears and the back of his neck turned noticeably red. Judging by his face alone, it looked more like he had done something weird, not me.

“I petted someone? Where and who?”

Paronai’s face grew even redder, and he couldn’t bring himself to answer. Worried the poor guy’s head might explode, I decided not to press any further.

First of all, Paronai still occasionally mistook me for a woman. That’s why he always avoided sharing a room with me at inns.

Second, Paronai is so shy that he flusters just from brushing a woman’s hand or witnessing a man and woman exchange a tender gaze.

Thus, my guess: in my drunken state, I must have touched Banwes’s body—he, being the one closest to me. But I had no shame. Even if I didn’t remember it, I brazenly denied everything.

“I hit him. I just didn’t have enough strength, so it probably looked like I was petting him. Satisfied?”

Paronai’s face turned puzzled. Then he looked past me—and froze as if he’d seen a bear. I could guess who was standing there, but I kept talking without a care.

“But even if I did hit him, I’m not sorry. It’s not like it hurt with my strength, right?”

I turned my head— and locked eyes with Banwes’s freezing stare. He looked at me as if I were the lowest kind of scoundrel.

“Come on, like you even felt it. Don’t sulk.”

I brushed past Banwes. From the next room, I heard the voices of the mage and the high priest, so I gave the door a push.

Penzey looked like he’d had one hell of a night—disheveled to the point it was obvious. He still reeked of alcohol, and the furrow between his brows seemed permanently etched in.

Yurichen, on the other hand, was so neat it was hard to believe it was still early morning. Seeing his smooth, clean robes and his neatly brushed silver hair, I found myself thinking how awkward Yurichen would look if he ever wore a shirt that didn’t cover past his knees.

They were gathered around a single bed, treating it like a crime scene.

A fragment of memory flickered up from last night. Something about Paronai, proudly carrying Bzhan around…

Since I’d passed out at the table, and Bzhan had already drunk himself dead long before me, there was no way he had revived during the night. Meaning last night was probably the first time Bzhan ever slept in the same room as the group.

But by morning, he was nowhere to be found. Judging by the mess of pillows and blankets, he must have thrashed around on his own.

“He really kicked up a storm. Must’ve been embarrassed, huh? Hahaha.”

“Uh… Penzey, watch out for arrows.”

Paronai flinched. Fortunately, no arrows came flying.

By now, we had learned a bit about how to handle Bzhan: if you yelled “watch out for arrows” first, Bzhan’s contrarian nature would kick in and he’d shoot fewer arrows.

We packed up our scattered belongings and left the abandoned house, passing through a village that looked like it had been hit by a bomb, the aftermath of the wild festival.

“…The atmosphere feels weird.”

The village, littered with uncollected flowers, looked strangely desolate. No villagers were in sight. Had they all drunk themselves unconscious?

“Things started getting gloomy the moment you started drunkenly ranting last night. Thanks to you ruining the festival, here we are.”

“Yeah, right.”

Banwes, hidden behind his mask, tried to frame me with words instead. I just snorted.

In that brief moment when I was about to snap back, Banwes’s presence shifted.

A chilling tension spread, like darkness crawling along spiderwebs.

A hair’s breadth later, a sharp light flashed across Paronai’s face as well.

Almost simultaneously, Paronai silently drew his sword—and multiple guards closed in, forming a ring around us.

Sharp spearheads aimed from every direction.

The killing intent thickened in Banwes’s breath, his already heavy, muscular arms swelling even more violently.

It was just like when he had staggered through the flames.

But rather than terrifying, he somehow seemed… vulnerable.

I latched onto Banwes’s arm tightly.

“Don’t make a sound!”

If the guards heard Banwes growl like a beast, half of them would surely lunge at him with their spears.

I clung to him desperately, doing everything I could to focus all his rage onto me instead.

Maybe it worked—Banwes didn’t lunge forward.

“The bride from last night’s wedding has disappeared. You people aren’t from this village, are you? Where were you last night?”

“The bride disappeared?”

The words slipped from tense Paronai’s mouth in a dazed murmur.