RD | Chapter 58

From the moment the intense dark energy surged, Keith realized something was wrong with his body. His heart—or something deeper than that—was throbbing wildly, filling his entire being with a strange heat.

His dazed gaze was locked on Ian. The boy was focused on purifying the orb, his small shoulders hunched in concentration. Keith couldn’t take his eyes off him.

Ian was wrapped in Keith’s oversized cloak, which looked as though it might slip off his shoulders any moment. Only the ribbon knot kept it precariously in place. His hands were fiddling nervously, and Keith couldn’t help but notice their small, soft appearance, uncalloused and delicate.

Those tiny hands, both of which could fit snugly in one of Keith’s palms. That small body, light enough to be cradled effortlessly.

– I want to consume him.

No, people cannot be consumed. What kind of thoughts were these?

– He must taste sweet. As if my tongue would melt.

People don’t melt. Was he going mad?

– Then why did I avert my gaze? It’s just a man’s body, isn’t it? No different from those I’ve seen countless times on the training grounds, barracks, or lodging quarters.

Because he shouldn’t look at him like that.

– What kind of look is “that”?

The voice inside him seemed to shift, as if it were now addressing Keith directly.

Keith suddenly understood.

This was a curse.

A wicked curse was tearing apart something fundamental within him. What exactly, he couldn’t be sure. But he was certain of one thing—it would harm Ian. He would harm Ian.

No.

But the curse had already activated, and the walls that had held Keith’s desires in check crumbled.

Keith had grown up in the temple, bound by duties and principles as a Holy Knight. His soul was tightly controlled by obligations and self-restraint.

He knew he mustn’t look at Ian in such a way.

He mustn’t let his gaze linger on each delicate feature or fleeting gesture. He mustn’t entertain such thoughts.

Because one doesn’t view people like that.

One doesn’t feel desire.

Keith didn’t desire anything.

He had never questioned why this peculiar, persistent person invaded his thoughts or lingered in his daily life.

He simply didn’t.

But now, everything that restrained him had broken.

The suppressed feelings surfaced like a flood breaching a dam.

Don’t.

He had warned Ian, but Ian wasn’t fast enough to escape Keith’s grasp.

That was the last moment Keith’s rationality functioned.

In truth, Ian didn’t fully understand why he was supposed to run. The moment he saw the word curse, his instincts took over.

Even so, Keith appeared fine. His ragged breaths had calmed, and his face had returned to its usual stoic expression. Yet something was undeniably off.

His eyes.

They were red.

“Keith?”

Ian called out, his tone wary. The red eyes were an unusual side effect, one that hinted the curse might be more severe than expected. Still, Keith wasn’t attacking him, was he?

Normally, Keith would have responded immediately, but now he remained silent. Slowly, he crouched down, reached for Ian’s shoes, and pulled them off, followed by his socks.

“…?”

Ian was too stunned to stop him. This was Keith, after all. He was a man of action, someone who often skipped explanations in favor of immediate, practical measures.

Ian’s feet, having spent most of the journey in Keith’s arms, were still fresh and dry, as clean as when he’d first put on his socks. Still, no one wanted their bare feet exposed. Ian instinctively curled his toes in protest.

Keith, undeterred, placed Ian’s big toe in his mouth.

“What the—!”

Ian barely managed a scream before Keith’s other hand ripped his pants apart.

How could clothes tear so easily? Were they made of paper? Ian wondered amidst his growing panic.

Then Keith’s tongue slid along his foot, licking up to his ankle bone. The sensation was unbearable, ticklish, and left Ian’s toes twitching uncontrollably. Keith’s large hand began kneading Ian’s calf as if marveling at its texture, his touch climbing higher and higher.

No!

This wasn’t the time to be dazed. The moment Keith’s head slipped under the cloak he had personally wrapped around Ian, Ian couldn’t hold back anymore.

What the hell is this curse?!

He finally read the description.

Ding!
[Belial’s Curse (S)]
Turns the cursed into a slave of their desires.

“What kind of desires?!” Ian’s voice erupted with frustration.

Has the game company lost its mind? When did this turn into an adult game?!

“Wait, wait, wait, Keith, hold on…!”

Keith’s hair brushed against Ian’s inner thigh, and only then did Ian realize his underwear was gone. He had no idea when it had disappeared.

Keith’s hair was soft—so soft it was almost painful to endure. Ian couldn’t understand why he had to confirm its softness against such a sensitive area.

He tried to think rationally. Keith was cursed, and curses were something Ian could dispel.

<Purification>!

‘<Purification>, <Purification>, <Purification>…’

“Why the hell isn’t it working?!”

The curse’s effects remained undiminished. Though the intensity of the dark energy was gradually decreasing, Keith’s actions showed no sign of hesitation.

Ian desperately avoided thinking about what might happen next. He wasn’t even particularly imaginative, yet somehow, the worst-case scenario came vividly to mind. He’d never even played an adult game! Why was he imagining this?!

Ian’s mind raced through escape strategies. One option was to kick Keith, but with Keith’s face now between his legs, that was impossible. Another was to kill Keith outright, but Ian couldn’t bring himself to destroy a five-star character.

Damn it!

What choice was left? He had to keep using <Purification> until the curse wore off.

“Ah…”

Keith’s breath brushed against Ian’s lower body, causing him to shudder.

The dark energy dropped to 90%. Ian had no idea how much longer this would take. If it dragged on, what would happen to him?

He didn’t have to wonder for long.

“Lord Ian…” Keith whispered breathlessly, before taking Ian’s member into his mouth.

“…!”

Ian instinctively pulled his knees up, but it was futile. There was no contesting strength with Keith.

Ian’s thoughts dissolved into chaos, leaving him with only one thing to say.

“Get a grip… How are you even looking at me right now…?”

“Don’t hide from me. Show me everything,” Keith replied, his voice low and husky.

Ian was losing his mind. He covered his eyes with his hands.

At that moment, Keith pulled the cloak away, leaving Ian exposed. With the midday sun shining directly overhead, Ian felt utterly humiliated.

When Ian tried to scream, Keith pulled his hands from his eyes, revealing his chiseled, stoic face.

“I like your eyes,” Keith said. “They’re delicate, yet strong… unlike the rest of your body. Looking at them excites me.”

Keith’s words sent shockwaves through Ian, who could only stammer incoherently. Keith’s lips pressed against Ian’s groin, sending electric jolts through his body.

The curse’s intensity dropped further, reaching 80%. Keith’s fleeting rationality resurfaced.

With trembling hands, Keith drew his sword.

What am I doing?

Ian turned at the sound of the sword being drawn and froze.

Keith was stabbing himself in the abdomen.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Ian yelled, rushing to grab the weapon.

“Lord Ian… You should leave me.”

“Shut up! You’re not dying over this!”

Ian clenched his teeth, rage and frustration boiling over.

“Isn’t this curse cooldown-based?!” he demanded.

Keith blinked. “What?”

“Once the effect is triggered, there’s a cooldown period, isn’t there?!”

If Keith had managed to resist even briefly earlier, that meant the curse wasn’t permanent.

Which meant… maybe all they needed to do was let it run its course.