HPV 96

The moment Riarun was taken by the cult, everything Yurichen had prepared to bring down the Rohin cult turned to scrap paper without ever being used.

With the capital now trampled by the boots of the rebels, he judged that even the power of the High Priest wouldn’t be enough to break through the capital lockdown and rescue Riarun.

Not as long as one particular condition remained—one he had never considered breaking.

—The Rohin cult is committing unspeakable atrocities.

The moment he voiced his insight aloud, the price came. But thanks to that, he was able to mobilize the Holy Knights.

Only with that could the knights move in the current climate—one where even treason against the royal family had broken out—on behalf of a single young man.

The High Priest looked more exhausted and worn than ever. He constantly furrowed his brows as if his eyes were in pain. The brilliant gold of his irises flared like foreign matter roiled within them.

“High Priest…”

The priest supporting him was clearly filled with concern.

It hadn’t become public knowledge yet amidst the current chaos, but soon the news that the High Priest had received divine punishment would spread.

He had likely never imagined such a fate in his lifetime. The shock would be enough to tear his world apart, yet his eyes showed no wavering. Whether he hadn’t thought about it yet, or had and still remained resolute—it wasn’t clear.

A dreadful silence, like time itself had frozen in hell. Yurichen waited. For either the man or Bzhan to say something—anything.

“…Where is Riarun?”

Yurichen quietly looked at the man, who barely kept his voice steady.

“Chiakan. It’s in the southern part of the kingdom and the Rohin cult’s base of operations. It’s also the place where I first met you—and where I first met Riarun.”

As he recalled the forest wreathed in flame, Banwes ground his teeth.

He imagined stabbing a sharp needle into his own thigh. That’s how he dulled the burning pain in his chest—by imagining pain even worse.

He prayed that Riarun was alive. No matter what state he was in.

He swore he would tear apart the one called Hancanera with his own hands.

“I will run there.”

He said it without hesitation, as if the thought hadn’t even passed through his mind first. Yurichen eyes widened.

“You’ll run to the South—without rest?”

It was a place that took several days by carriage. With a body that was half-beast, he might manage it in a day if he didn’t stop once.

But it would take a full day. He wouldn’t eat or drink—he would just run, blindly. He would break anything in his path, and even once he arrived, there would be no rest—only greater suffering.

But he wasn’t someone who could be dissuaded.

“Charging south doesn’t mean you’ll find Chiakan.”

It was reckless, unreasonable—but without him, the situation would only plunge deeper into darkness. So Yurichen handed him the artifact that revealed Chiakan’s location.

“What do I need to do?”

He was already planning what to do after he arrived. Not arriving wasn’t even a possibility in his mind.

And for the first time, he asked the High Priest what he should do. He sought counsel from a man he so deeply despised.

Even when he had hunted the black dragon, he had never attempted such unity.

“Cause a disturbance. Stall for time until the Holy Knights arrive, and scatter the cult leader’s attention.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than Yurichen’s eyes flew wide again. There was no one before him.

The capital lockdown. The royal family had sealed all the gates in order to root out the rebels. The man would have to stir a riot to break through and escape.

And then, and then—

A dry, stinging wind numbed his ears and cheeks. The man ran to reach the end of this long hell.

The thought of Riarun casting him aside had vanished from his mind.

That could wait until Riarun was safe.

Even if Riarun pushed him away again, he could accept it—just let him run to you. Please, just accept that much.

***

Hancanera had deliberately poured his past and every thought into me.

I came to understand just how vile and corrupt his obsession with me truly was. The image of myself in his memories was wretched and horrific—but what was worse was that he had felt ecstasy every time he saw it.

I never wanted it, but he stole my thoughts. I never wanted it, but he forcibly injected his thoughts into me.

My own memories were pushed aside. In their place, Hancanera’s wicked mind was heaped upon me.

“Banwes… Banwes went through something like this too… from an uncle who wished him dead. But he overcame it. So I must too…”

But even so, a crushing sense of helplessness pierced me—convinced I’d never escape in the end.

My arms were bound. They had been pulled tight, and my shoulders ached from the strain.

Though my upper body was thoroughly restrained, my lower body was comparatively free. My feet were still touching the ground.

When I moved my legs slightly, I realized why Hancanera had bound me like this and what he wanted.

I wasn’t wearing any undergarments. I was dressed in only a white top that barely covered my thighs.

“No thrill in it, but… I do want to see how cheap you look.”

He was intrigued that Banwes and I had lain together. He wondered how much I had enjoyed it, how flushed my face and body had been, what kind of movements I had made.

He delighted in imagining how furious I would be if that experience—something I cherished—were treated like trash. How broken I would become if the body I gave was taken from me.

I looked up at Hancanera, repeating the lessons I had once learned.

Spirits cannot distinguish good from evil.

As long as life is preserved, as long as the truth is cleverly hidden from view, they can be deceived. Spirits are not like gods—they are not transcendent.

“You liked it, didn’t you? Screaming in pleasure with a monster’s cock inside you.”

I endured the shame in silence. From the pale light of his skin, from the corners of his eyes, I could clearly see his arousal.

“If it’s big and blunt, any stick will do, right?”

Before I met Yurichen, I had thought this man the most noble and refined I had ever known.

“When I put mine in, you’d better be just as happy. Understood?”

My powerless legs trembled. I tried to draw them together and took a deep breath, despite having no pants to cover them.

It was precisely because everything he said was the opposite of how I felt that I was so deeply afraid—and Hancanera knew that. That was why he was satisfied.

I threw myself deeper into despair.

If I held on to hope, if I tried to endure by clinging to the memories I had left, Hancanera would read those thoughts and twist them into even deeper despair.

So I sank further into despair. To survive, I drove myself into suffering. I fed him the satisfaction he craved.

I would make him lower his guard.

After all, I had always been someone others saw as the villain—just in thought alone.

Just like when I had said something unforgivable to Banwes, denying all our good memories as if they weren’t mine—then turned away and wept.

“You loving someone makes this even more delightful. You’ll never see that monster again.”

Love? The one I love…?

The confusion lasted only a moment. As he whispered his vile words into my ear, my breath caught, and I began to suffocate.

Hancanera watched me choke with fascination. The giddy light in his eyes made me nauseous. I barely held it in—but had I vomited, he would have enjoyed that even more. He would have just watched, not even trying to clean it up.

When Hancanera looked into my eyes, I saw both attachment and a curse in his pale gaze. My body went limp.

The terror and pain rising from deep within me felt just like when that demon had been inside me.

‘What if the demon wasn’t really purified after all? Even though I fought so hard to cleanse it…’

What if Hancanera could just plant it back in me? Like a parasite living off my body.

He hadn’t struck me even once, yet it felt as if I’d been whipped from head to toe. He hadn’t even peeled away my clothes to touch my skin, and yet waves of shame washed over me—as though I had already been violated many times.

I must have lost consciousness, showing a face that pleased Hancanera and fed his satisfaction—even though I never meant to.

Then, suddenly, a cool hand touched my face, and I came to.

“No…”

I thrashed. If the hand wasn’t warm, then it couldn’t be the one I desperately longed for.

But even so, it felt different from Hancanera’s hand. I opened my eyes.

“Riarun, Riarun. Are you alright?”

Was I dreaming?

In the grim underground of the cult, the High Priest stood before me—noble and beautiful.