Chapter 31

Chapter 31

"I'm sorry!"

Calming down, Ryan surveyed the scene, feeling he had made a complete mess of things. "I'm sorry, Altai. I shouldn't have treated you like that."

Apologizing only after the damage was done—he felt just like an unforgivable abuser.

Altai coughed a few times, then, as the young man on his chest hastily tried to leave, he pressed against Ryan’s knee, making him sit back down. "It’s fine. You made me feel alive again."

"Thank you, Ryan."

This was the first time Altai had called him by his name so earnestly, rather than "Junior Pastor." The sound of it made Ryan’s ear tips flush.

After taking a moment to collect himself, Ryan tried to sort through the chaos in his mind. "No, you can’t just forgive me so easily. I almost choked you to death and cut off your long hair... I need to pay an equivalent price before you can choose to forgive me."

Altai almost choked on his own blood upon hearing this, coughing several times before recovering. He wanted to say, "You couldn’t actually strangle me," but was afraid of hurting Ryan’s pride, so he settled on, "Let’s put this aside for now and discuss it later. First, help me wipe the blood off my face."

"Okay." Only then did Ryan realize he had somehow wound up sitting on Altai’s chest again. He quickly got up. "I’ll use a healing spell on you."

He got off the bed and used a healing spell to close all the wounds on Altai’s face. "The healing spell works on these injuries, so why isn’t it affecting this one?"

As he spoke, he lightly touched the whitened edge of the unhealed wound. The next second, Altai’s chest muscles tensed abruptly, making Ryan jerk his hand back. "Did I hurt you? I’m sorry."

"No..." Altai broke out in a sweat. He could only lick his canine teeth helplessly, then grit them and force out, "It’s a bit itchy."

"If it itches, that means the wound is healing, which is good." Ryan felt a surge of relief. Seeing the blood still smeared across Altai’s face after the wounds had healed, he hesitated for a moment before picking up the training vest from the bedside. "I don’t have anything else on hand. This is your own vest—it’ll have to do for wiping."

"No need. I’ll wipe it myself." Altai’s expression darkened as he snatched the vest, casually tossed it aside, then wiped his face with his hand.

Ryan watched him, puzzled. *How can he even dislike his own clothes?* His gaze swept the room, and he suddenly realized the door had been left ajar. He walked over and closed it, then turned back to see Altai propped up on the bed, staring at him with a deep gaze.

After a moment of thought, Ryan said, "You’ve already promised me you won’t hurt yourself anymore, so you don’t need to go to those brothels from now on, right?"

"Do you know why I went to those awful places?" Altai’s voice was quiet, as if some long-locked box of honesty had been pried open. "All this time, I couldn’t let anyone know I had succubus blood in me—I’d be hunted down. But I also refused to deceive people into giving me the energy I needed to sustain the life force of the succubus flesh within me."

"If people knew I was a half-human, half-demon hybrid, they’d only feel disgust. They wouldn’t produce the kind of emotions I could feed on."

"So I needed those rumors about me frequenting brothels. Plenty of bored people would take one look at me and feel exactly what I needed..." Altai’s expression remained calm. "But maybe because the human part of me kept resisting, the taste of those emotions was... revolting."

Hearing this, Ryan finally understood why Altai had always been so repulsed by "feeding." This contradiction had tormented him, making him feel suffocated and numb—so much so that he’d lost all sense of being alive.

Ryan had once told him that every life’s way of survival was worthy of respect. But Altai’s way had been a paradox from the start—an insoluble problem.

"Now I’ve confirmed my theory: not feeding won’t kill me. It just means I lose the natural healing ability that comes with my succubus blood." Altai stretched his arms out on the bed. "This wound today exceeded what my trained healing could handle, which is why it’s taking so long to recover."

"No more feeding. No more brothels. And this wound isn’t a big deal—it’ll heal in a few days."

"But..." Ryan hesitated before speaking bluntly, "When you fought Noah earlier, your strength and stamina were much lower than before."

The warrior fell silent.

Seeing this, Ryan’s guilt for hurting Altai’s pride by pointing out the truth surged to its peak. He had to find a way to salvage the warrior’s dignity!

His gaze landed on Altai’s hack-job pink hair, and a brilliant idea struck. "Altai, do you want to cut my hair? Consider it compensation for cutting yours." He hadn’t had time to trim his hair lately, and it now reached his shoulders.

Though he guessed the pastor was just trying to comfort him, Altai couldn’t help sinking deeper into silence—*Does the Junior Pastor think I’m some kind of pervert who gets pleasure from cutting my companions’ hair?*

After a long pause, Altai said, "Come closer."

What greeted him was a crown of jet-black hair—the Junior Pastor planted his hands on the bedside and leaned in, neck stretched, his soft dark locks cascading over his pale nape, glossy and smooth.

Like a sleek, beautiful kitten insistently demanding head pats. Altai chastised himself inwardly, then couldn’t resist pinching a strand of hair at the base of Ryan’s neck, gently twisting it between his fingers.

"Grow it out longer..."

The words tumbled out unbidden. Altai quickly corrected, "I mean, since you cut my long hair, fair's fair, you should grow yours out first... before letting me cut it."

Ryan lifted his head. He didn’t think long hair would suit him as well as it did Altai, but to make him feel better, he nodded. "You’re right. I’ll come find you for compensation once my hair’s long enough!"

"...Mhm."

With the hair matter settled, Ryan’s attention returned to Altai’s wound. "How many days until this heals?"

Altai shook his head. "Not sure. Before, minor wounds would vanish in a blink, and major ones only needed a minor healing spell."

Ryan thought for a moment, then had an idea—though he hesitated before voicing it. "Altai, last time you... tasted a bit of my emotions. What did they taste like?"

He remembered Altai hadn’t seemed disgusted then.

Altai’s heart jumped like he'd been startled, but his face betrayed nothing. "Just like water."

Ryan pressed, earnestly, "Can they sustain you?"

The warrior replied evenly, "A little."

"That’s great! Then I can help you." Ryan’s hands still rested on the bedside as he looked up at Altai. "Let me help heal your wound. Even if it’s just a little energy."

"I know I shouldn’t force you to... consume me. But I was the one who killed you. So I want you to use a part of me to complete your rebirth."

"Let the old wounds heal. I want to see the new you. Okay?"

For a moment, Altai felt like those luminous eyes slew him anew. He'd melted into warm flesh now, in the young man’s arms.

Yet the young man still wouldn’t let go. Cool fingers brushed against Altai’s forehead as Ryan uttered a questioning sound. "Hm?"

Altai sighed. "I surrender."

Ryan sensed there was more to Altai’s words, but the priority was restoring his vitality.

"What should I do? Do we need to hug?" He tentatively spread his arms and carefully embraced Altai.

Altai looked down at the shy pastor curled against his chest, ran his tongue over his fangs, and ultimately didn’t say, *Just looking at me would do.*

He took a deep breath, reveling in the warmth. When Ryan asked, "Better now?" Altai pulled him closer and allowed himself a small smile.

"Not yet. If you want my wound to heal, this isn’t enough."

"There's not much energy in your emotions, so I’ll need a lot... and I might not be gentle."

"...It’ll also take a long time."

"Thank you... for all this."

==

At the Pastor Academy.

"Myrtha! Have you seen Nova?"

"Nah. Spotted him earlier, though."

"That guy must be slacking off somewhere again! He still hasn't turned in his book report this time! I'm going to drag him out no matter what..."

Myrtha watched the angry retreating figure with a strange unease in her heart.

At the Mage Academy, High Priest Zephyr suddenly appeared in the classroom. His eyes were icy, yet his face wore a friendly smile as he greeted the surrounding students, causing quite a stir.

In a corner of the campus, French took the money without expression and handed over a book.

Teacher Lynn, who had just finished class, looked exhausted as he held a stack of books and called out to French from a short distance away, "French! It's about time, hurry up!"

==

He had successfully made it to see another sunrise, but Ryan felt nothing. Smiling wearily, he only felt as if he had reached enlightenment in that moment, nearly transcending the mortal world.

The chaos of the world could no longer stir any emotion in him—was this the mindset of a monk?

Yesterday, Ryan quickly grasped the full meaning behind the Champion's words. As someone with little desire, he soon felt himself becoming drained. Then, just as the system had complained, the Champion used every means to tempt him, even letting him touch the magic sigils.

The shattered, scorching sigils still seemed to burn in his palm.

Altai, energetic and glowing, appeared before his teammates for the first time with short hair. Kaelan nodded in respect, which was normal, but strangely, the elf refrained from mocking the Champion’s new look. Silvius merely glanced at him, snorted coldly, and tightened his grip on his staff.

Baldwin arrived cheerfully, announcing that they had completed their Paladin trials and could now take them to the temple.

With the vigilance of a beastman, Baldwin keenly noticed that Ryan seemed different today—as if all his darker traits had vanished. In truth, Ryan had never been particularly evil, so now he looked... like an angel from a fairy tale.

"Ryan, you look..." Baldwin scratched the back of his head, "...like you're glowing."

Ryan gave him a dazed smile.

"Sir Knight, it's a pleasure to see you again! But there's no need to worry about our priest." Altai stepped in front of Baldwin with a boastful tone, saying, "I'll take good care of Ryan."

Hearing Altai’s casual address, Kaelan’s brow twitched, and his blue eyes instinctively turned toward Ryan.

The young man’s expression was serene, the warm sunlight casting a soft halo around his face, giving him a soft, almost fuzzy glow. His thin eyelids bore faint veins, and when he blinked, his lashes scattered the light. His obsidian-like pupils caught Kaelan’s gaze, and then a gentle look was directed his way.

At that moment, Kaelan forgot everything he had been thinking about, overcome by surging emotions.

"We're here," Baldwin stopped. "The temple is just ahead."