Salvation Through Delusion C32

Chapter 32

 

“…It happened after I almost died.”

 

Tyroc gave a low hum, lips curving faintly.

 

“Then maybe you should die once more—so you can get your courage back.”

 

He was clearly referring to the time I’d lunged at him. I bit down the urge to rush him again, forcing every bit of my temper under control.

 

Even if it shredded my pride, what could I do? This bastard was the man meant to save our world.

 

“I didn’t know who you were back then.”

 

I muttered an excuse.

 

“Even now, you’re still the same.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Before he could answer, Mo’s calm, mechanical voice appeared in my mind.

 

[“Koon Tyroc’s rank is far above Adeye Rue’s. When you meet him, lower your head and speak respectfully.”]

 

…I’d rather die again. Ripping open my chest would be easier than bowing to this man and speaking to him with honorifics.

 

My gaze darted around for an escape route as I instinctively stepped back—only for a flash of light to crack like a whip in front of me.

 

“What the—?”

 

[“Swordmasters can generate aura with their blades and use it as a weapon.”]

 

Son of a—

 

I swore inwardly as another whip of lightning slashed toward me when I moved sideways. The ground and fence it touched turned black, sizzling and burnt—barely five centimeters from where I’d stood.

 

That bastard nearly roasted me alive!

 

A chill crawled down my spine.

 

“What’s wrong? Keep running.”

 

“I’m not running because I’m scared, you—damn it.”

 

The words slipped out before I could stop them, and of course, a Swordmaster’s ears were sharp as hell.

 

“Oh? So I’m the ‘damn it’ now?”

 

Persistent bastard.

 

No. I couldn’t antagonize him. I had to keep him on my side—no matter how much I wanted to break his nose. He was humanity’s last hope.

 

I swallowed my pride and lowered my tone.

 

“I’d rather not die again, that’s all.”

 

His lips twitched.

 

“You used to have no problem talking before.”

 

“Well, seems like Your Grace is the one who talks plenty.”

 

“But you bite better.”

 

“…”

 

“And now, it looks like you’re trying to bite me with your eyes.”

 

I bit down on my frustration and lowered my gaze. Apparently, he didn’t like that either.

 

“You’re being boring now.”

 

What do you want, exactly? I glanced up after barely a second.

 

“If your life’s that dull, maybe go raise a—pig or something.”

 

“I already am.”

 

What? A duke, personally raising pigs?

 

“I feed them my enemies. They learn manners fast once they’re thrown in alive.”

 

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. They were sharp—like a warning. You could be next.

 

Dr. Lantua, how badly did you screw this man over?

 

Well, to be fair, I’d only made things worse.

 

“There must be plenty of fitting food for pigs. Why bother?”

 

“Because your people made me bother.”

 

“…My sister takes so many experimental meds that her moral compass is a little off.”

 

“You’re one to talk, considering you tried to bite me.”

 

“Well, you tried to kill me first—! I mean, come on, you didn’t even bleed that much.”

 

I swallowed my rising voice, then glanced meaningfully down at his thigh. It would’ve been less infuriating if he’d at least been injured.

 

“What? Want to touch it?”

 

“WHAT? NO! Absolutely not!”

 

I flailed my hands so hard even I looked guilty. His eyes narrowed, sharp and skeptical.

 

Great. He didn’t believe me. Not surprising, considering Rue was kind of a pervert.

 

I took a breath and spoke sincerely, hoping to fix the misunderstanding.

 

“I’m a changed man. Nearly dying to a monster does that to you. Physical contact—any contact—is unbearable now.”

 

He stared like I’d just told him the moon was square. I added quickly,

 

“And besides, Your Grace isn’t my type. I don’t feel even a spark of attraction.”

 

He didn’t say a word. The faint smile stayed on his lips, but the teasing tone was gone—and somehow, that made it worse.

 

Why did he look angry? Shouldn’t that make him happy?

 

The air shifted, cold and taut. I stepped back cautiously, but still met his gaze.

 

“I understand your doubt. You’re… rather popular, after all.”

 

“Oh, I believe you. I’ve heard the same kind of bullshit so many times it’s dull. They all say they’re not interested—over and over—hoping I’ll finally make them interested.”

 

“That’s not me.”

 

“And I’ve heard that line too many times as well.”

 

Damn. No wonder he was jaded. Probably had a fan club of masochists.

 

Fine. Better to be brutally clear.

 

“I have absolutely zero desire to screw you.”

 

That actually made him laugh—short and incredulous.

 

“Of course. You’re the one who loves being screwed.”

 

“Not anymore. My tastes changed when I almost died.”

 

“Really? Because I heard you used to take two cocks at once and still begged for more.”

 

What—what did I—WHAT?

 

But he wasn’t finished.

 

“And rumor says you cried every time you came, saying mine was the only one that could satisfy you. Isn’t that right?”

 

My jaw dropped. He’s joking, right?

 

“I—I don’t remember that, but clearly someone exaggerated—”

 

“There were hundreds of witnesses.”

 

I dragged a hand down my face. Goddamn it, Rue. Just how far did you go? Two guys at once, then still went looking for Tyroc? How big was he—

 

Nope. Not going there.

 

“I don’t remember any of that, but I apologize anyway. I’ve stopped drinking too.”

 

His eyes cooled to ice.

 

“Pretending you don’t remember when things go bad—how very like you.”

 

“I’ll apologize for everything I did before. But right now, I sincerely have no—”

 

“Adeye’s apologies are worth nothing. You can’t wash off filth with words.”

 

His voice dripped with contempt, sharp and unrelenting. My thoughts went white. He was glaring at me with open disgust.

 

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? Go on—keep spewing your usual trash.”

 

His provocation hit its mark.

 

“If I disgust you so much, then walk away. I’m not the one trying to get in your pants.”

 

The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them—but his reaction erased any trace of that.

 

He wasn’t offended. He smiled wider—eyes crinkling this time.

 

Goddamn it. My words didn’t work on him at all.

 

No wonder Dr. Lantua gritted her teeth every time his name came up.

 

Before I could think of what to say next, he moved. His gaze flicked down to my lips.

 

Step.

 

He closed the distance in a heartbeat. I backed away, but he was faster, his hand catching in my hair before I could react.

 

“Wh—what the—mmph!”

 

The rest of the sentence was cut off. His mouth crashed against mine, hard and unyielding.

 

I clenched my jaw, refusing to open up, but he yanked on my hair until my scalp screamed.

 

“Ugh—!”

 

The involuntary sound gave him the opening he wanted. Heat flooded in—literal heat—as something slick and alive forced its way between my lips.

 

Wait, what the hell—?!

 

I thrashed, trying to shove him off, but he only pulled me closer, one arm locking tight around my waist until I could barely breathe.

 

I tried to turn my head, to push out that invasive tongue, but his grip on my hair pinned me still.

 

This bastard—!

 

It was pure, one-sided aggression. I was resisting, really trying, but the moment his tongue swept deeper, something inside me jolted.

 

Not disgust. Not fear. Something worse.

 

A chill that wasn’t cold—heat that raced under my skin, making my pulse hammer violently.

 

Damn it. What the hell is this…?

 

That warmth spreading like lightning through my veins, that dizzy, trembling rush—

 

It was a feeling I knew.

 

Long ago, from a first kiss with someone whose face I could no longer remember.

 

But that was impossible.