HPV 29

Creak, creak. The hallway creaked at regular intervals.

Banwes, still sitting in the same position he had fallen asleep in, quietly lifted his eyelids.

Click. The doorknob twisted slightly, then stopped. After confirming the door was locked, the sound of a key turning followed.

As if it had been prearranged, the intruder and the one inside, both unshaken, looked at each other.

The mage, slipping lightly through the door like a snake lifting its head, smelled faintly of alcohol.

He had a habit of drinking every night before bed.

The intruder’s lips curved into a crescent moon in the darkness.

“Imagine that — a third-circle fire spell, something a novice from the Tower would learn in a year, actually tore the flesh of the world’s one and only half-beast hybrid.”

The very man who had cast the spell so casually brought up Banwes’s wound. Now, there wasn’t even a trace of it left on his shoulder.

The one who had healed him was currently sleeping soundly in the bed beside him, their gentle breathing brushing against his heightened senses and subtly distracting him.

“Disappointing, really. I expect a half-beast of your caliber to be a monster that doesn’t burn no matter what. So I analyzed your blood.”

Banwes silently glared at him.

He had no memory of ever giving the magician his blood.

He certainly hadn’t let this sly man get close enough to prick him unnoticed.

A normal needle wouldn’t even pierce his tough skin.

After a moment, a new, unpleasant possibility slithered across his skin.

“There was blood on Ria’s clothes.”

Banwes, who had lived his entire life in hiding, was a master at erasing any trace of bodily fluids.

But controlling a flailing, clumsy youth like Ria was another matter entirely.

Penzey’s lips twitched in amusement above his finger.

Like Banwes, this mage blended perfectly into the darkness.

“I don’t see any reason why you should’ve been wounded by that spell. I doubt you’re the kind of high-functioning creature who’d fake an injury just to get Ria’s attention…”

Banwes’s brow furrowed slightly.

Whether it was nonsense or outright slander, he found it ridiculous.

“But your blood… it’s suppressing its own ferocity.”

The smile vanished from the mage’s face.

Finally, the real topic.

“If that blood were properly awakened, you could become a demon like no other in this world. Honestly, it’s surprising you haven’t already. Living as you are — not fully a demon — must have been exhausting.”

His turbid eyes, as murky as pitch-black blood, read Banwes carefully.

Banwes held firm, his red irises unshaken.

Even a stone thrown into that crimson lake would leave no ripple.

A faint sneer escaped Penzey’s lips. He lifted his foot from the floor and started to move.

“You don’t have to look at me like that. I’m the one who understands you best, after all…”

The corner of Banwes’s eye twitched.

Without making a sound, he emanated a violent wave of rejection.

Penzey’s black footsteps circled around the bed.

From the adjacent bed, strands of golden hair spilled over, catching the edge of his gaze.

For a moment, he leaned over to look down at Riarun’s sleeping face, smiling fondly — almost like a father watching over his child — then quietly slipped out of the room.

It was then that the man, who had remained as still as a rock, finally opened his heavy mouth.

“If you really believe in that research or whatever it is…then the smart move would be to stay out of a demon’s room.”

After the low, resonant voice faded away, only the soft sound of steady breathing filled the space again.

Penzey, hearing both the dark warning and the innocent breaths, simply curled his lips upward once more.

“A room that’s the safest place in the world… for a certain beauty.”

—

I changed out of my nightclothes and into a tunic and travel trousers.

Throwing a robe over my shoulders, I gathered all my long hair and pulled it out, neatly combing it before loosely tying it down.

I had packed everything — all that was left was to head out.

But Banwes looked… strange.

“You’re seriously going out like that?”

His chest was completely exposed, looking disheveled and wild.

It was as if his furious muscles had torn through the fabric on their own.

For once, Banwes didn’t snap back.

Instead, he awkwardly crossed his arms over his chest, trying to cover himself.

“Don’t tell me you forgot how to button up? I taught you, remember?”

“That’s not it.”

“You didn’t want to listen when I told you not to be so arrogant, and now you’re all confused.”

As I walked toward the bed where he sat, something crunched under my foot — a small object.

I glanced down. It was a fallen button.

Looking back up, I saw the fluttering hem of Banwes’s tunic again.

Now, Banwes didn’t even bother trying to cover himself, visibly sulking.

It was hard not to laugh.

“I didn’t think you were the type to care about clothes. If it’s torn, just take it off and put on something else. Why were you clinging to it?”

Most of Banwes’s clothes were ones that had been specially altered for him.

The original garments never fit properly, and there hadn’t been enough time to commission an entirely new wardrobe.

Instead, the tailors had stitched two tunics together just for him.

Still, it seemed one of them had ended up a little too small.

With a rough motion, Banwes yanked off his tunic and threw it at me.

Thump — the fabric hit me and slid down.

“You fix it,” he ordered, crossing his arms boldly.

It was infuriating in a subtle way. I crossed my arms too.

“Why should I? I don’t know how.”

Banwes couldn’t push his shamelessness any further.

Without thinking much of it, I picked up the tunic lying on the floor and inspected where the buttons had popped off.

As I was looking it over, Banwes snatched it back with a rough gesture.

I couldn’t hold back a laugh.

I didn’t even try to hide my giggles.

“You’re annoyed because you’d have to explain this mess to Yurichen or someone else, aren’t you?”

Without replying, Banwes stuffed the torn tunic into his pack and began pulling on a fresh set of clothes.

He fumbled a little, struggling to fasten the buttons quickly enough.

While Banwes was busy fumbling, I crouched nearby and dug around for the ruined clothes he’d stuffed away.

“Just ask the innkeeper to throw it out for you.

It’s normal to toss clothes once they’re ruined. No big deal.”

“I have to take it with me.”

“Why?”

“Otherwise, it’ll leave evidence that I stayed here.”

I didn’t look up at him, but I could tell he wasn’t looking at me either.

Leaving the torn clothes in his bag, I stood up.

When we came out, the rest — four, no, three — were all ready and waiting.

Only one person was still missing.

“Hey, how long are we supposed to keep pretending we don’t notice that someone’s absent?”

Paronai spoke in a low voice, his green eyes scanning the surroundings sharply.

At least now he didn’t scream or flinch anymore — he was ready to face an arrow flying at him at any moment.

‘He really acts like a kid sometimes.’

Despite being eighteen years old, Bzhan, thanks to growing up among elves, had developed poorly both physically and mentally.

Whenever humans referred to him as ‘human’ or ‘companion,’ or otherwise rubbed him the wrong way, he would fire an arrow without hesitation.

Paronai, visibly anxious now, had reason to be.

Even if no one acknowledged it openly, this journey was ultimately a mission to hunt a being once revered as a god — a dragon.

And yet, one crucial companion hadn’t shown the slightest intention of joining the fight.

It was enough to make anyone uneasy.

“If he wants to hide, just let him. Not like he’s a beauty who could get away with hiding anyway.”

Yurichen cast him a look of pure disdain.

The group continued walking steadily toward the next town.

I clung to Banwes’s back again to avoid falling behind.

By midday, we found a quiet spot to take a break.

After gathering around and finishing a simple meal, Penzey and Yurichen sat together, going over supplies.

“We’re short on handkerchiefs, a small pot, and silver thread.”

“We’ll have to stop by a town and buy them. Also, we’re out of alcohol.”

“Stop slipping your personal indulgences into the list,” Yurichen said coldly.

“This whole trip is basically one big luxury anyway. With just you and me, it’s only a matter of time before we blow through the budget.”

At the Temple of Gaioh, ‘frugality’ was supposed to be a sacred virtue…

But regardless of that, it was clear Yurichen believed it was a sin to leave behind any of the travel funds granted by the god.

By evening, we finally reached a town.

It was decorated with brick walls and cobblestone streets — one of the most picturesque places we had come across so far.

I was immediately captivated.

‘What’s that beautiful shop?’

I stopped in front of a store.

It sold toys, and a sweet, woody scent lingered in the air.

The display cases were filled with beautifully arranged, old wooden dolls.

Though worn, the craftsmanship of the music boxes still created delicate, charming tunes.

“Antique shop. Most of it’s old junk, but sometimes you find something useful. Wanna take a look?”

Penzey slung his arm casually over my shoulder and gently steered me forward.

Pretending to be reluctant, I leaned in to peer at the display.