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Even If Everyone Hates You 74

It had been a while since he last dreamed of his past. Perhaps his consciousness had been suppressing those memories ever since his return from death, but recalling his life before felt like a rarity.

The memory that his mind unearthed from the depths of his subconscious was of an insignificant day, buried and forgotten. It was during a long winter, when the expanding perimeter of Nir’a was being debated, and everyone had gathered at the royal palace. In the middle of that day, he had a chance encounter with Ressas in a corridor. It must have been a few months before the Rampage occurred.

As always, just seeing Ressas’s face ignited a visceral hatred in Seiyad. It had been ages since he had felt pity or resentment toward anything in the world, yet Ressas never failed to provoke an intense sense of disgust. He hadn’t even considered him worth speaking to for years, let alone greeting him. As usual, Seiyad had planned to walk past with a look of open contempt.

Ressas’s expression mirrored his own. The refined, graceful smile he reserved for others had vanished from his pale face, replaced by a cold indifference that only briefly acknowledged Seiyad. As Seiyad pushed past him, cutting through the suffocating silence, Ressas unexpectedly whispered:

“Tither doesn’t belong to you alone. Please, don’t overextend yourself in battle.”

It was a petty interference. The motive behind the remark was obvious—an underhanded attempt to restrain him. Seiyad replied with clear disdain, his voice dripping with scorn.

“You’d do better to advise your own pathetic Tithers, Your Highness.”

Just exchanging words with him made Seiyad’s skin crawl. Without giving Ressas time to respond, he continued walking. He didn’t look back—he didn’t want to see Ressas’s expression, didn’t even want to confirm whether he was being watched.

Yet, at the end of the dream—tinged with the awareness of his current consciousness—Seiyad felt the urge to turn around. Even though he knew full well that Ressas had hated him in that life, and even though he could already imagine the face that would be waiting, the compulsion persisted.

Seiyad halted and slowly turned back. He had expected Ressas to be gone, but he still stood there, looking in his direction. Yet his expression was obscured. As darkness began to fall, the dream shattered and scattered into fragments. The murmuring sounds around him slowly reached his consciousness, pulling him back to reality.

His eyes stung, dry and raw. Swallowing the pain, Seiyad slowly pushed open his eyelids. A crimson flicker from a lantern danced across his field of vision. Judging by the ceiling above, he was inside a tent.

“If Nir’a keeps coming out like this, do you think we could destroy the forest?”

It was Vine’s voice, a hushed whisper coming from the tent’s entrance.

“After what His Grace pulled off today, I think it’s possible. And besides, His Highness’s power… it’s terrifying. Even common soldiers like us could feel it. There was just something… incredible about it.”

Rigda’s voice responded. Another knight joined their conversation.

“I’ve never even heard of anything like that. Isn’t Purification supposed to be, like, absolute?”

Apparently thrilled by their lord’s greatness, the knights’ chatter quickened.

“Everyone’s been saying it. His Highness is the reincarnation of Raman Solias I. That kind of overwhelming power probably only manifested now because of that.”

“He’s definitely changed a lot since awakening.”

“I never imagined he could be so frightening.”

“Yeah. When he gave that situation report—he was deadly calm. No yelling, no anger, just cold, logical words with no expression. That was worse.”

“From now on, I’m never questioning His Highness ever again.”

After hearing Vine’s firm declaration, Seiyad finally felt able to move. He swallowed his breath to keep it from leaking out audibly and slowly lifted his upper body. Brushing off the blanket that had slipped down, he examined himself—no major injuries. His back throbbed with heat; likely splinters from a shattered tree had embedded in his flesh when he’d rolled across the ground, but such a wound barely registered.

Peering beyond the tent, he found the sky had grown dark. Though the battle had been long, the moment he lost consciousness had still been in broad daylight—he must’ve been out until nightfall.

How pathetic—to have passed out for this long over something so trivial. If they were to truly eradicate the forest, he would have to endure far worse.

He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. He always kept it half-swept back to prevent it from interfering in battle, but now it fell messily through his fingers.

Seiyad rose from the cot and stepped away. Once upright, he confirmed again that beyond the wound on his back, he was in good condition. This was no time to lie idle. There was much to discuss about the next purge—and more importantly, the Nir’a he had seen today needed investigation.

In the nine years of his previous life, he had faced many high-tier Nir’a, but never one like that. It rendered the Tither’s attack utterly ineffective—something only a top-tier entity might achieve. Memories from the past and present tangled messily, stirring unease in his chest. He felt an urgent need to return to the forest and search for clues immediately.

He looked around. On the circular table at the center of the tent lay his thin cloak, neatly folded. As he walked over to pick it up, he noticed a brooch resting on a silk handkerchief. Shaped like a flower and made of purple leather, it was something even Seiyad recognized at once.

‘Why is this here…?’

A strange feeling knit his brows as he stared at the brooch. Just then, the tent flap opened, and the tent’s other occupant returned.

“Eid!”

The startled voice made Seiyad turn. The terrifying face he had seen before losing consciousness now wore a gentle expression, as if that grim visage had been a lie. Ressas, now walking briskly toward him, grabbed his arm with such delicate pressure that it barely registered.

“You shouldn’t be up yet. The wound on your back was deep—we’ve wrapped it tightly. You need to rest.”

“You’re overreacting to something trivial.”

He disliked being treated like a delicate patient. As Seiyad responded indifferently, Ressas’s expression hardened. He pushed up Seiyad’s sleeve. The loose black shirt gave way easily, revealing a forearm crusted with scabs.

“How… is this nothing?”

Ressas’s voice trembled ever so slightly. He bit his lip until it turned pale, eyes dropping to Seiyad’s arm, scanning it with distress. His face, which had looked composed just moments before, turned ghostly white. It looked as though he might faint instead of the wounded party—his chest heaved so deeply.

“Didn’t I say your body belongs to me? So don’t get hurt. Not even a scratch. Not even the smallest mark.”

A deep tremor ran through Ressas’s hand as he muttered under his breath. Seiyad narrowed his eyes, carefully studying the strange reaction. It was true that even last winter, Ressas had been concerned about his injuries and hadn’t known how to deal with them, but he hadn’t been this shaken.

“Considering the kind of Nir’a I faced today, this is actually rather mild. Last time, you saw wounds far worse, yet here you are, making a fuss.”

That time he’d taken a piercing blow while fighting Selfini Vetria had been far more dangerous. At Seiyad’s words, Ressas clamped his mouth shut and just kept staring at the scratched-up arm. He bit his lip so hard it looked as though he might tear it open, which irked Seiyad enough to frown. After a brief deliberation, he lifted the unrestrained arm and brought his hand to Ressas’s lips.

“Stop biting them.”

He didn’t know why it annoyed him so much, but the way Ressas was on the verge of shredding perfectly fine lips unsettled him. The moment Seiyad’s fingers brushed his lips, Ressas lifted his head. Caught in those violet eyes, Seiyad saw a shimmer of moisture and knit his brows in discomfort.

“Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?”

“No, I….”

Ressas opened and closed his lips a few times, saying nothing. A sorrow so raw and deep that it pained just to witness clouded his face. His dark brows twitched and dipped, then settled back into place. Wiping the tears from his eyes, Ressas smiled with eyes that shimmered faintly.

“I was just happy that Your Grace touched me.”

He tilted his head slightly and gently rubbed his cheek against the back of Seiyad’s hand still resting on his lips. With delicate movements, he nuzzled his soft skin into the hand and lowered his lashes. Those misted violet eyes held only Seiyad.

“It’s just… it’s been so long since you touched me first, Duke….”

His damp breath warmed the back of Seiyad’s hand. The way that deeply sunken voice fell upon him made his chest ache in a strange, inexplicable way.

“I was so happy I nearly cried.”

He’d only given him a fleeting touch, and yet Ressas was acting like this. It was foolish—so foolish it almost made Seiyad laugh. But as he watched that side of him, so childish and sincere, he also found himself wanting to touch him more. Back when Ressas was young, he used to light up as if he’d received the whole world from the smallest thing Seiyad gave him. It stirred that same feeling now.

Seiyad followed the impulse.

He looked down at Ressas, who was nuzzling his cheek against the back of his hand, then slowly pulled his hand away. Like a child robbed of a precious treasure, Ressas followed the retreating hand with his eyes, wearing a strangely desperate and yearning look. Troubled by the face that looked so fervent and pained, Seiyad raised the hand he had withdrawn and cupped Ressas’s jaw.

With a firm grip, Seiyad held his chin and pressed a finger to his lips. The tip of his index finger pushed firmly against those soft lips, then slipped just slightly inside.

For a moment, Ressas blinked, stunned, as if time had frozen. His violet eyes trembled violently, but Seiyad pressed in deeper. His fingertip brushed against neat, aligned teeth. Without resistance, following his lead, Ressas slowly parted his lips. White teeth came into view, and his red tongue peeked out with quiet secrecy.

A shiver ran down Seiyad’s spine. Heat surged up, and he felt a powerful impulse overtake him. The heavy desire he’d tasted before blacking out wrapped around him once more. An unspoken command told him to take and consume the pure guide before him.

Seiyad pulled his chin closer.

Ressas let himself be drawn in, tilting his head slightly in offering, and whispered:

“I said something wicked… so I need to be kissed, Duke.”

He nearly asked which part of what Ressas said was so wicked—but the desire to claim him came first.

Seiyad wrapped his arms around Ressas’s waist and yanked him in. Then he bit down on his lips.

They were maddeningly soft—and far too sweet. The taste that spread across his tongue had the very sweetness Seiyad favored. Yes. Just like Ressas once said, he had a fondness for sweets that didn’t suit him. And the one he liked most of all had been the bright red apples growing in front of the abandoned palace where Ressas had lived.

The sweet flavor that burst forth the moment his teeth sank into that ruby skin was exactly what he tasted now.

Levia
Author: Levia

Even If Everyone Hates You

Even If Everyone Hates You

Status: Completed Author:
The Demon of the North. A ruthless cold-blooded killer. The Crown Prince's dog. Duke Seiyad Brosius would use any means necessary, without regard for method or cost, as long as it meant killing the monsters that threatened the kingdom. Though his methods were brutal, Seiyad was a capable asset beyond compare. Yet during a battle against monsters, he suddenly went berserk and ended up harming countless people. As a result, he met his end at the hands of Prince Ressas—the Crown Prince’s rival and the most powerful Guide. “There will never again be someone as monstrous as you.” At the edge of death, Seiyad reflects on his life. Even the gentle prince, kind to all, hated him. Even the Crown Prince—his own Guide—abandoned him in the end. Drowning in regret, he wishes he could change that last moment. Seiyad then awakens five years in the past. Though he questions the unbelievable reality, he decides to live a different life in order to prevent the berserk outbreak. He seeks out Ressas before he has awakened to his power, trying to approach him once more. “Why are you acting this way toward me? Isn’t it your job to hate and ignore me?” One by one, Seiyad begins to uncover things he never realized in his previous life.

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