Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 141: Ripples and Sunlight
Myss didn’t want to help.
He had no interest in that twisted lump of flesh, and the concept of “offspring” left him even more indifferent. If he hadn’t happened to end up inside a human body, even “reproductive behavior” would have meant absolutely nothing to him.
But what if he refused? Salaar had obviously already come up with some scheme. If Myss stubbornly refused, the Blind God would simply become “Salaar’s child,” then go on to become the inheritor of Salaar’s will. That sounded almost as special as being a “destined enemy.”
…Then it would be better if he were “their child,” Myss thought.
That way, he would get the satisfying feeling of having tainted the entire concept. There wouldn’t be such a direct one-to-one relationship between Salaar and Sogné.
“What do you need my help with?” Myss asked irritably.
“Use your magical blades, together with my healing ability, to reshape him into a human form.”
Salaar leaned close to Myss’s ear. “Remember, reshape him into a human form, not turn him into a human.”
Oh. Back in the rabbit hole, they had done something similar to the Prisoner of Dreams. But at the time, they had only removed the Abnormal Fruit from Roman’s body and reorganized his magic circuits. The Prisoner of Dreams’ divine body had already been humanoid, so Myss had never needed to consider cosmetic reconstruction.
From what Salaar meant, he wanted them to turn Sogné’s lump of flesh into something shaped like a human. Wasn’t that just deceiving oneself?
…Still, Myss had no intention of worrying about Sogné’s mental health.
He considered the feasibility for a while. “Simply changing his appearance will be difficult. I need to account for his magic circulation. Just like when we modified Roman, this guy’s magic circuits will need to be adjusted too…”
“You don’t need to worry about failure. I’m here. I can heal him at any time,” Salaar said.
In truth, Myss didn’t particularly care about failure. It made no difference to him whether Sogné lived or died; though if Sogné perished, the Secret Garden would simply come after them…so he might as well do it just to avoid trouble.
Myss diffused his pupils and began observing the flow of magic through that lump of flesh.
The Blind God had longed so desperately to be born that It had reached the point of grasping at anything. Only after Salaar explicitly pointed it out had the guy realized that It had already grown a “heart” and unknowingly been born into the world.
“So troublesome. What’s wrong with this form? Why insist on a useless human shape…”
Salaar smiled. “Because I understand his obsession.”
Fine. Myss had certainly witnessed Salaar’s obsession with “ending the Night Scourge.”
He flicked his hand. Pitch-black magic covered his fingers and extended outward into thin blades like scalpels.
The Blind God’s method of controlling dreams was quite impressive, at least far more realistic than Myss’s control magic. Since he had to operate anyway, he might as well take the opportunity to study it properly.
Keeping his pupils diffused, Myss pressed the black blade against the enormous embryo, directly over one of the faces that closely resembled Salaar.
Hm. Perhaps this would be more entertaining than he had expected.
The black blade sank into pale skin, but no blood seeped out. The incision split open like a smile, exposing something inside that resembled red cotton wool.
“I’m starting.”
Only after making the first wound did Myss leisurely speak.
The cut lay precisely along the boundary between two faces, at the position of a throat that didn’t actually exist. Even as the face resembling his own twisted apart, Salaar remained completely unmoved. He merely gathered a sphere of golden light.
“Begin,” he said softly. “Let him… be completely freed.”
……
At three in the morning, Myss withdrew his blades. He was drenched in sweat, looking as though he had just been fished out of water.
Even treating Roman hadn’t been this troublesome!
There was no Abnormal Fruit inside the Blind God, nor any Magibase. His magic circuits were countless times more complicated than Roman’s, making Myss’s vision repeatedly go dark from strain.
“How is it?” Salaar asked.
Myss shot him an irritated glance.
This time, Myss had unquestionably done all the heavy lifting. While blades flew everywhere on his side, Salaar could only provide healing when Myss requested it and use mental magic to remove whatever pain the Blind God might experience.
For the rest of the time, Salaar simply stared at Myss without blinking, lost in thought.
The floor was now piled with chunks of flesh radiating hot, bloody heat. The embryo remained suspended in midair, wrapped inside a membrane of flesh. Opaque, writhing meat enclosed it completely, giving it an elongated shape like a blood-red snake egg.
“It’s fine,” Myss grumbled. “He’ll be humanoid, damn it.”
“…I meant, how is his condition?” Salaar continued.
“Does he have anything inside him resembling a Magibase, or…”
Myss froze, frowned, and looked plainly annoyed, as though asking, Why should I tell you?
“I’m worried V.O.R may have tampered with him,” Salaar said concisely.
“Ugh, fine. No, they haven’t.”
Myss shook his head decisively. “His magic circuits are completely different from those people who use Magibases, and they’re also different from Roman’s circuits when he was parasitized by the Abnormal Fruit.”
“If I had to describe them, his magic circuits are relatively pure. They’re similar to yours, but not as powerful.”
After speaking, Myss clicked his tongue. “I mean, not as powerful as you were at your peak.”
In Myss’s memories, the Salaar who smiled while fighting him was still the strongest being he had ever seen since gaining consciousness.
…But the Blind God’s dream magic was quite impressive.
He had to admit, the tricks the Blind God had refined over three hundred years were simply cleaner and more elegant than the control magic Myss had invented on impulse, and considerably more effective.
Myss was already growing impatient. If dawn hadn’t been only three hours away, he would have started researching the Blind God’s magic immediately.
“I’m going to sleep for a while.” Myss yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Reshaping flesh is exhausting…”
Whoosh.
The instant he finished rubbing his eyes, he saw sunlight slanting across the floor at his feet.
He and Salaar had returned once again to the room called “home.” The only difference was that this time, Sogné was gone.
The door to Sogné’s room stood open, and the family portraits still covered the walls. A new sheet of paper lay on the dining table. On it was a family portrait of Myss and Salaar.
Salaar picked up the page and instinctively turned it over.
[Salaar and Myss:
Thank you for your help. Although I still need some time to adapt to my body, I can feel my limbs. In three hundred and twelve years, I have never felt this light.
I once misunderstood my mission. Now my long-held wish has been fulfilled. I will do everything in my power to assist Mr. Salaar and preserve the peace of the human world.
You may rest here as much as you like, until you decide to greet the next sunrise.
Also, I will wait patiently outside. Before the Eye-Opening Ceremony begins, I have something important to tell you, Mr. Salaar.]
The signature was only a single simple word: “Sogné.”
Myss’s mood immediately improved.
His nerves had been stretched tight for most of the night, and he had thought he would have to wait miserably for the Eye-Opening Ceremony.
Now everything was perfect. They could rest here as much as they wanted.
Salaar’s fingers tightened slightly, creasing the paper.
Outside the window, the sky was a clear, transparent blue, and the sunlight was just right. Sogné had even restored Salaar’s original appearance directly. In the brightly lit room, his hair looked like solidified light.
Myss looked at Salaar’s silhouette, and some of his exhaustion and sleepiness abruptly faded.
The sunlight here was too bright, so bright that it seemed slightly unreal. Dust motes drifted slowly beside the bed. The air carried the scent of old wood and warm cotton and linen…
And the scent of Salaar himself.
The sweet tang of blood and bitter scent of sweat from not long ago seemed like things from another world.
Salaar standing before the sunlit window overlapped strangely with the Salaar from his memories who had stood before a window in darkness.
It was as though everything had already settled, and this was the ending.
But at that moment, Myss no longer had any interest in examining the finer details of the Blind God’s magic.
He had only one thought.
…This human belonged to him, he thought.
Without tentacles to use, Myss had no choice but to creep up behind Salaar and suddenly wrap both arms around his waist, filled with the satisfaction of having seized his spoils.
Unfortunately, Salaar was simply too tall. His shoulders and neck blocked Myss’s face, making the position rather awkward.
Myss adjusted himself several times before finally managing to get the large man properly wrapped in his arms.
Salaar set down the family portrait. “We don’t need to put on an act for Sogné anymore.”
Myss couldn’t quite identify the emotion in those words, but he was certain there was no rejection in them.
Salaar even relaxed and leaned back slightly. It was only a tiny movement, but Myss felt it.
He immediately buried his face deeper, breathing in the scent most familiar to him in the entire world. His breath slipped softly over Salaar’s skin.
“You said we were going to sleep early tonight.” Once Myss had sniffed enough, he opened his mouth and bit Salaar’s shoulder blade through the fabric.
“Even if we can’t verify anything anymore?” Salaar did not turn around.
“Even if things get worse.”
In his mind, Myss imagined a pitch-black sack, stuffing Salaar entirely inside it, then tying the mouth shut with a dead knot.
The thought of tempting Salaar into falling, making Salaar’s obsession spiral out of control, sent a burning anticipation crashing around inside his chest until his heart began beating faster.
Salaar turned around and stroked the top of Myss’s head.
“We need to take a bath,” he said.
Myss found the man completely unreasonable. “First, this is a damn dream. Second, you know that damn cleansing magic.”
Salaar: “Tomorrow is the Eye-Opening Ceremony. I need to conserve my magic.”
What a terrible excuse. You’ve already absorbed the power of an Abnormal Fruit. Who are you trying to fool?
Myss shot Salaar a disdainful look, silently expressing his protest.
Salaar met Myss’s glare with nonchalance. “If you wash properly, I’ll let you take the lead.”
As he spoke, he rubbed and kneaded the rim of Myss’s ear. “Or you can wait here by yourself, and later we can each rely on our own abilities… Even if we’re both working only from theory, I’ve seen hundreds or thousands of times more than you have…”
“…Besides, this dream was created according to our preferences. The bathroom looks the way you like it.”
Myss took a deep breath and compromised.
Sure enough, the bathroom was quite… remarkable.
It wasn’t large and was similarly built of wood, somewhat like a rural bathhouse in Ring Town. But it came equipped with the same luxurious bathtub as the Red Amber, large enough to hold three or four people, and beside it were the fruity fragrances Myss liked.
Myss jumped into the tub before Salaar, without the slightest awkwardness.
Salaar: “…”
“This is the curse of bathrooms,” Myss said solemnly. “Before you enter, it’s one thing. After you enter, it’s another.”
Salaar didn’t immediately remove his clothes, although the distinctive Crimson Marsh outfit didn’t contain much fabric to begin with. He sat on the edge of the bathtub with both legs submerged in the hot water and gathered Myss’s wet gray hair into his hands.
High on the bathroom wall was a small round window. Sunlight slanted through it and reflected directly across the water. Under the strong light, the strands in Salaar’s hands gave off a soft glow, like molten silver.
This was a dream world, and there was not a trace of dirt on them. Yet Salaar still gently washed and combed through the hair, the backs of his hands occasionally brushing Myss’s damp nape.
Salaar’s hands were warm.
Myss shifted position and moved closer. But doing so forced him to turn his back toward Salaar.
The surface of the water rippled, breaking the reflections apart, and he could no longer make out Salaar’s expression.
“You aren’t worried about the ‘Black Coffin’?” Salaar asked softly.
“I was watching the entire time. You didn’t leave any hidden measures inside Sogné.”
If Myss wanted to, he could deliberately have left his own magic inside Sogné’s magic circuits. Considering the dangerous nature of Myss’s magic, if they ever became enemies in the future, Sogné would certainly suffer for it.
Myss might not be particularly perceptive when it came to human relationships, but Salaar had never doubted his understanding of battle and power.
“Mmm…” Being washed felt so comfortable that Myss let out a long, languid hum. “Why would I worry about the ‘Black Coffin’?”
“True.” Salaar smiled faintly. “It’s only a small human struggle…”
“Because worrying is useless.” Myss casually tossed a clump of foam and hit Salaar on the nose. “Stop testing me. As if I don’t know you. Even if Sogné disappeared, there would definitely be some magical tool acting as a brain or magical storage device somewhere… What you preserve is pure information. There are plenty of ways to keep information from being lost.”
“And you aren’t the kind of narcissist who thinks ‘only I can save the world.’ If necessary, you wouldn’t mind releasing your memories to the entire human world. How could that possibly be lost?”
Having said that, Myss splashed idly at the water for a while.
The window cast a circular blue shadow across the surface, swaying back and forth like a pupil. Myss casually shattered it with his hand, then piled up a large mound of foam.
“…So.” After more than ten seconds of silence, Myss concluded, “I’m not going to suddenly try to kill Sogné. Relax. That brat isn’t even qualified to be my enemy.”
Salaar’s eyes crinkled into crescents. “You think that highly of me?”
Myss turned his head, intending to give a suitably imposing affirmation, but the instant he turned, his lips met something soft.
At some point, Salaar had slipped into the bathtub. His movements were silent and graceful, hardly disturbing the water at all. Myss was caught directly in his arms, and the bitter taste of foam mixed into the kiss.
The sound of sloshing water covered the sounds of their kissing. Myss abruptly realized that his territory in the water was shrinking at alarming speed. In the brief time their tongues tangled, his back struck the edge of the tub.
The rim was cold and hard. Annoyed, Myss raised both hands and tried to push Salaar away. Unfortunately, although the Hero Cushion was soft enough, Salaar himself was solid as stone and wouldn’t budge.
Two hands appeared against Myss’s back as well. Salaar’s fingers threaded through his wet gray-white hair and pressed firmly against his spine.
They were burning hot, made even more obvious by the contrast with the cold bathtub. Seeing that the Hero was about to pin him in completely, Myss suddenly realized something was off.
“You said I could take the lead…”
“Yes. After you finish bathing.” Salaar smiled. “But we haven’t finished bathing yet, have we?”
Myss: “…” This brat truly was shameless beyond measure.
He put on a stern expression and tried to slip away along the edge of the tub. Salaar caught his wrist in one hand and yanked him back.
Sunlight flashed across Myss’s vision. The hard sensation of the bathtub disappeared, and his back collided with Salaar’s chest.
Warm water supported Myss’s body while the soft Hero Cushion propped up his back. Sunbeams passed through the rising steam, making Myss narrow his eyes.
The fragrances Myss liked floated all around him, mingling with Salaar’s scent and giving him the illusion of being slightly drunk.
Salaar rested his chin on Myss’s shoulder again. “Do you really want to leave, Myss?”
His voice was soft, almost as though he were showing vulnerability. At the same time, his hands began moving with practiced familiarity.
Salaar’s touch was gentle, creating tiny sounds in the water like wind chimes. Myss slowly sucked in a breath, heat rising through his head in waves.
Letting Salaar attend to him first wouldn’t be so bad. He had been exhausted earlier and could use the chance to recover some strength… That was fine too…
After all, this was only a dream. None of this was real…
…Was it?
Myss’s increasingly sensitive senses told him that Salaar’s heartbeat had never been this fast before. Not when his blood had nearly run dry. Not when his tentacles were about to pierce his eye socket.
That heart had never lost control like this. It made Myss’s own heartbeat quicken in response.
Hot blood surged toward his head in wave after wave, as though this were some lethal confrontation. Salaar’s burning breath spilled across the back of Myss’s neck.
Myss couldn’t resist twisting around and biting Salaar again. His hair clung to Salaar’s body, brushing softly across him whenever Myss moved, like another kind of tentacle.
For the first time, Myss understood that killing intent could burn with this kind of thirst.
He didn’t know what Salaar meant by love. Myss only knew that at this moment, his instincts were screaming wildly.
Contaminate him.
Destroy him.
Devour him.
Make him fall forever into my darkness.
And Salaar’s love seemed every bit as sinister as his own.
Myss swallowed the fire in his throat and kissed Salaar again, as though that could lessen the burning thirst. Salaar’s movements grew rougher as well. Both hands gripped Myss’s waist tightly, leaving deep red marks behind.
At the unexpected feeling of intrusion, Myss instinctively tensed, several muffled sounds escaping his throat. Salaar’s movement abruptly faltered, and the room plunged into an eerie, deathly silence, brokenly only by the sound of their uncontrollable heartbeats.
Salaar planted a kiss, incredibly light, against Myss’s collarbone.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper as if he was speaking to himself.
The sudden question stunned Myss. Salaar seemed to snap out of a trance at the same moment, and the two stared at each other with almost matching confusion.
Perhaps this dream was simply too unreal, or perhaps this place felt too much like a home… Myss had once believed that such a question would never exist between the two of them.
His fingertips sank into Salaar’s skin, his nails scraping out tiny beads of blood. For a moment, he could almost smell the battlefield again, filled with torn flesh and spraying blood.
“…How stupid.” After a long while, Myss finally found his voice again. He provocatively raised his chin, smiling with extraordinary arrogance. “To ask such a stupid question, the magnificent Lord Salaar… You’ve lost control… ngh!”
…That wasn’t what they had agreed on!
The previous two experiences had been good, so Myss had assumed there would be no pain. Who could have guessed that the ambush had been waiting for him here?
This time, there wasn’t the slightest hesitation in Salaar’s movements. Everything from moments before seemed like nothing more than an illusion.
Damn it. This really was a fight to the death.
Myss couldn’t break free of Salaar’s hands, so he bent down and viciously bit into Salaar’s shoulder. Blood seeped between his teeth, slid into the hot water, then was scattered and swallowed by the violently rocking surface.
Salaar made no move to heal the wound.
He even deliberately offered his shoulder to Myss’s teeth, as though encouraging him to leave more marks. Blooms of blood unfurled amidst the foam, while water continued to slosh out of the bathtub, spilling across the floor.
Before long, Myss no longer had the strength to keep biting. Instead, he wrapped his arms tightly around Salaar’s shoulders and neck, panting and coughing like someone drowning.
Myss strained his neck. All he could see was the swaying ceiling and the trembling ends of Salaar’s brilliant golden hair.
The pain changed into a different sensation… Something Myss didn’t quite understand.
The warm water around him seemed to boil, turning into soft flames. Tingling waves ran through Myss’s spine. His head grew even dizzier, and he had no choice but to free his mouth and gulp in air.
Once he recovered slightly, he would bite Salaar’s lips again, or his tongue. Spots of light danced wildly across the water like scales peeling away.
Contaminate him.
Destroy him.
Devour him.
Make him fall forever into my darkness.
Those thoughts gradually burned away until only the simplest repetition remained.
Possess him.
Possess him.
Possess him.
Make him belong to me forever.
Myss’s vision melted beneath the overly bright sunlight. He clung tightly to Salaar’s neck, licking at the wet wounds and tasting the sweetness of blood.
He couldn’t remember what he said. Perhaps he said nothing at all, only made meaningless sounds. Strangely, amid his own uncontrollable heartbeat and broken breathing, Salaar’s words were perfectly clear.
“Myss.” He kept calling his name, his voice hoarse as though scraped raw by sandpaper. “Myss, Myss…”
“You were right… I’ve never believed in anything like ‘only I can save the world’…”
When Myss could barely support his own body anymore, Salaar gently covered Myss’s ears and pressed a kiss over his heart.
All Myss could hear was the amplified rush of blood, the pounding of his heart like a drum, and the wet sound of kisses.
And mixed among them, a faint murmur —
“But if… if it’s possible…”
“You have to… You absolutely have to…”
His words were broken apart among fierce kisses, shattered like the sunlight on the surface of the water.
“…You absolutely have to die by my hand.”
The author has something to say:
At least the two of them finally got to eat some meat. Congratulations, congratulations. [dog head holding a rose]
Kinky Thoughts:
It seems these later works by Nian Zhong really push the boundaries of censorship. It feels like I’m reading something explicit but well written that it doesn’t seem like smut.
<<< || Table of Contents || >>>
