“What does my being your guard have to do with… this?”
Ash tried to calmly persuade his guard knight. He genuinely couldn’t find any connection.
“You haven’t thought at all about why I decided to help you escape, have you?”
Tylian spoke as if he hadn’t expected anything else, his tone laced with a familiar exasperation.
Ash felt a pang of something akin to guilt, a slight tension in his shoulders.
Had he truly hurt Tylian?
“You thought about it?”
Ash’s question was hesitant, almost a whisper.
Tylian’s suspicion was palpable.
‘Does he think I live without thinking about anything?’
Ash felt a flicker of offense, but then he quickly realized that, in this instance, Tylian was entirely correct. He hadn’t truly given it much thought.
Ash had just… vaguely guessed that it might be so. It was a natural assumption, almost an instinctual conclusion.
“Wasn’t it because you like me?”
He finally asked, the words tumbling out, almost involuntarily. He thought that’s why…
When Ash posed the question, his gaze uncertain, Tylian’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise passing through them.
Ash felt a small surge of triumph – he seemed to have guessed right.
However, Tylian didn’t look pleased; in fact, a shadow crossed his features, deepening the lines around his mouth.
“Knowing that, you do this to me?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous murmur.
Ash wished he wouldn’t do that.
That particular tone always sent a shiver down his spine, a premonition of an impending lecture.
“I knew it.” Ash blurted out, a desperate attempt to deflect the impending accusation. “Knew what?”
Tylian’s voice was dangerously calm.
“I knew you were against free love!”
Ash felt genuinely wronged.
It was a defensive reflex, born from years of dealing with Tylian’s judgmental gaze regarding his romantic endeavors.
“Do you think I’m stupid? Every time I had a relationship, you’d show up with glaring eyes, looking displeased. Did you think I’d believe you were in favor of free love? You’re the kind of person who, when confessed to, can only refuse or accept. You actually did that, didn’t you? As soon as someone confessed, you’d say things like, ‘I appreciate your feelings, but I’m busy with work and don’t think I can meet your expectations,’ trampling on people’s hearts! I heard it all.”
Ash’s voice grew louder with each accusation, the pent-up frustration of years finally bubbling to the surface. He felt a surge of righteous indignation.
How dare Tylian imply he didn’t understand affection?
“What does that have to do with anything? How is that trampling on someone’s heart?”
Tylian countered, his own voice rising in volume, a bewildered expression on his face.
He truly seemed baffled by Ash’s logic.
“What’s wrong with dating a bit? Time isn’t something you have, it’s something you make. You make time for that person even when you’re busy. You don’t even have the intention to do that! You don’t even give them a chance?”
Ash pressed on, feeling like he was finally articulating a fundamental difference in their worldviews.
Tylian seemed utterly speechless, a rare occurrence.
He just stared at Ash, his mouth slightly ajar, as if he couldn’t quite process the torrent of words.
“Then, was what you did giving me a chance?” he finally managed to ask, his voice carefully controlled, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes.
“Of course!” Ash blurted out, perhaps a little too quickly, too vehemently.
He immediately regretted the impulsive response.
“Sleeping with someone when they confess?”
Tylian’s question was pointed, his gaze unwavering.
Ash felt a flush creep up his neck.
“Don’t speak so strangely! It’s about seeing if you’re a good match, if you like each other…”
Ash grumbled timidly, his earlier bravado completely deflated.
It felt terribly embarrassing, like laying bare his most intimate views on dating in front of his parents.
Though, he mused, his actual parents weren’t particularly interested in his dating views; they’d likely offer a distracted nod and move on.
He even thought it would be more comfortable to confess in front of his father.
His father would just say, ‘Haha, so Ash thinks that way,’ and then lose interest, but Tylian wasn’t like that.
Tylian was dissecting every word, every nuance.
“Then, were you giving me a chance too?”
This time, it was Ash who was speechless.
Sleeping with Tylian…
It was just…
Was it because he had thoughts about chances or dating views?
It didn’t seem so.
Tylian said he liked Ash, Ash was happy, he wanted to confirm if he was sincere…
It was so surprising that he reacted to him, so amazing and good, that it seemed to just happen. Ash broke out in a cold sweat.
He fumbled for a response, his mind racing.
“Th-that’s right.”
He forced the words out, hoping they sounded convincing.
“I see.”
All expression vanished from Tylian’s face.
It was a blank slate, devoid of any discernible emotion.
Ash braced himself.
‘Am I going to get scolded?’
Getting lectured by Tylian was a daily occurrence, so it wasn’t anything special.
He had a premonition that this scolding would be a bit more terrifying, though, a deeper, more profound disappointment.
“Is that mage the same?”
Tylian’s gaze shifted, his attention now fixed on the figure sprawled ungracefully on the bed.
“Huh?”
Ash responded, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic.
“Master?”
Tylian’s voice was sharp.
His master, who had been excitedly watching their conversation unfold with an almost theatrical air, reacted belatedly.
His eyelashes fluttered with his slow blinking eyelids, as if he were just waking from a pleasant dream.
“Is that how it was, Ash? You were giving me a chance to date? I didn’t realize.”
The master’s voice was laced with a feigned innocence.
“No, that’s not it… You don’t plan on dating me, do you?”
Ash quickly interjected, the thought alone sending a shiver of revulsion down his spine.
“No, I don’t. But if my beloved disciple wants it, I’ll consider it in the future.”
The master’s words were accompanied by a wide, unsettling grin.
“Will you have an answer within 100 years?”
Ash asked out of genuine curiosity.
He had planned to try and help his master’s smooth sex life, but he hadn’t expected his master to try himself.
He thought he’d just go back to his cave, muttering about wasting time.
Tylian furrowed his brows, a muscle twitching in his jaw.
“If you get an answer, do you want to date him?”
His voice was low, almost a growl.
“I’m just asking… You’re not curious that Master is thinking about dating?”
Ash attempted to pivot the conversation, feeling a desperate need to shift the focus away from his own tangled romantic philosophies.
“I am not curious.”
Tylian’s retort was immediate and cutting.
“Oh, right.”
Ash sighed.
Since his master’s image had shifted to “shameless” in Tylian’s mind, Tylian’s treatment of him had become extremely unfavorable.
Ash felt a strange pang of human sympathy for his master.
If you truly knew him, he wasn’t that bad of a person.
Even if he lacked empathy, lived an inhuman life, and turned out to have abnormal sexual desires…
‘Huh? Is he someone who keeps revealing more bad points the more I know him?’
Ash was confused.
His initial burst of sympathy wavered under the weight of this sudden realization.
His master, still sprawled on the bed with an air of absolute contentment, then asked, “So, is it decided then? Tylian won’t leave this room, and Ash will offer me his chest? I want to suck Ash’s nipple.”
The words hung in the air, thick with their unsettling implications.
Tylian looked at his master as if he were an unapproachable piece of trash, his face a mask of disgust.
“Have you been seducing Sir Ash this way all this time?”
Tylian’s voice was laced with venom.
“I haven’t seduced Ash, though…?”
The master replied, his expression one of genuine perplexity.
“Master, that’s an idiom.”
Ash interjected, trying to bridge the linguistic gap, though he felt a growing sense of despair.
“Oh, I see. It seems idiomatic expressions have changed a lot in a generation.”
The master mused, as if this were a profound sociological observation.
“I bet they used it in the previous generation too.”
Ash countered, his patience wearing thin.
“Ayla never taught me expressions like that…”
The master mumbled, almost wistfully.
“Why would Mother teach you expressions like that, Master? No, seriously, Master, please do something normal! What are you going to do by sucking a chest? You’re going to do something weird again, aren’t you?!”
Ash finally lost his patience, his voice rising to a near shout.
“Something weird?”
Tylian reacted, his attention instantly snapping back to the master.
“Please, can’t you just leave?”
Ash pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation.
He just wanted this humiliating spectacle to end.
His master, however, said nonchalantly, “It’s fine. I don’t mind, Ash.”
“I mind!”
Ash roared.
He didn’t have exhibitionism!
Ash’s nightlife was only unusual in that his partners were a bit diverse; the sexual acts themselves were perfectly normal, or at least, what he considered normal.
Tylian sighed, a deep, weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world.
He swept his hair back with a hand, then sat on one side of the bed, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight. He crossed his arms, his expression resolute.
“Do whatever you want. From the moment I followed you out, I decided to protect you. Be it your body or your heart.”
His words were delivered with a quiet intensity, a stark contrast to the chaotic energy of the room.
“What is this supposed to mean?!”
Ash wanted to cry.
His head was spinning.
“You… don’t understand the meaning of affection, do you? I’ve known for a while that your views on relationships are twisted. Until now, I thought I couldn’t overstep with the master I served, so I just watched, but it seems that was pointless. The line has already been crossed, and you know nothing.”
Tylian’s voice was calm, almost clinical, yet it held a cutting edge that pierced through Ash’s defenses.
Ash wondered what this virgin was talking about.
Between himself, who had enjoyed free love since becoming an adult, and Tylian, who had lived his entire life boringly, who would be the one who didn’t know what ‘affection’ was?
It was a rhetorical question, of course, but it burned in his mind.
“Sir Ash must understand my resolve.”
Tylian’s gaze was unwavering, his expression one of grim determination.
‘What resolve?’
Ash thought, bewildered.
However, his master was quicker to clap, his hands coming together with an eager, almost childlike sound.
“Excellent. Since Tylian is watching, I don’t have to worry about putting you in danger. Ash, all you have to do now is give me your nipple nicely.”
Ash realized again that his arms were perfectly bound, the strange magic holding him immobile.
‘This person, he just haphazardly uses escape magic but thoroughly applies strange magic, doesn’t he?’
A reasonable suspicion arose in Ash’s mind, a flicker of understanding about the master’s peculiar priorities.
However, Ash didn’t have enough knowledge to compare and understand magic structures, so he couldn’t question it.
His master pulled Ash’s bound wrists above his head, securing them even further.
He stroked Ash’s cheek a couple of times, his touch surprisingly gentle, as if he found it cute, and then, with an almost predatory glint in his eyes, he took off Ash’s shirt.
A noble’s outing clothes were too conspicuous outside the castle.
Ash had compromised by wearing commoner’s attire to be less noticeable, but since he couldn’t pretend to be a farmer, he opted for a simple shirt and trousers.
It was the kind of attire a wealthy commoner would wear within the castle, and Ash had never had any problems while wearing it.
But now, Ash was surprised.
‘Commoners really go around so scantily clad.’
If he just took off his shirt, his bare skin would be exposed.
Was it really okay to go out in such flimsy attire?
“M-Master. Tyl. Tylian, don’t look…!”
Ash stammered, his cheeks burning.
His master, oblivious to Ash’s mortification, simply stated, “Your body is beautiful everywhere, the color is lovely.”
And then, he bit Ash’s nipple.
Ash felt the warm mucous membrane sucking in his areola, a strange, intense pressure.
And the tongue, licking his protruding nipple, a sensation that was both alien and shockingly pleasurable.
Ash wanted to cover his eyes, to block out the sight of Tylian’s unwavering gaze, but his hands wouldn’t move.
They were tightly bound, held captive above his head.
Instead, he closed his eyes, squeezing them shut.
That wasn’t a good choice.
With his vision obscured, his other senses became excruciatingly acute, heightening every sensation.
Were there so many nerve cells distributed in the areola?
Every time the sensitive tip of the tongue licked, like a cat lapping, he could feel his nipple hardening and rising, a distinct, undeniable response.
“Ugh, just…”
Ash groaned, a muffled sound that was half protest, half involuntary moan.
“You’re sensitive. It might hurt a little…?”
The master’s voice was a low murmur, close to his ear.
“…Huh?”
Ash responded, confused by the sudden change in his master’s tone.
“Ash, release your pheromones. That strange musk taste is lingering on my tongue and it’s unpleasant. I shouldn’t have drunk that wine.”
At his master’s words, something clicked in Ash’s mind.
Alphas and Omegas couldn’t smell their own pheromones.
They could only hear from others what their scent was like.
Who was it?
Someone had told Ash before.
That his pheromones were sweetish.
That they had a sweet and pleasant fragrance.
Ash released his pheromones.
He had been holding back, they were already itching because of Tylian.
The suppressed sensation was released.
Like untying a tied sack, the pheromones that had been bundled inside burst out with a rich, heady scent, filling the room.
“Mmm, good.”
His master let out a melting groan, a sound of profound satisfaction.
At the same time, Ash felt a strange sensation, a deep, internal shift.
His nipple felt like it was swelling, and as his master sucked, something seemed to be draining out…
“Huh?! Ah…!”