TBR CH50

Chapter 50: Rose Deep Valley

Many years ago, Edwin couldn’t remember if it was a distant snowy night, but everyone told him it was deathly cold that day. He was placed at the entrance of the monastery, not yet having grown the marks of a devil. But there was no concealment, no note, no explanation. He was simply abandoned.

The Bishop had known from a very early age that his bloodline was unclean, sinful, to the extent that people looked at him with thick disgust, or he had to risk his life to cleanse his bloodline.

But sometimes people also looked at him with pity. It was a look that meant “it shouldn’t be this way.”

Edwin acted too sensibly, too calmly. And he was unusually hardworking. While other children were still whining and pestering for a bite of dessert after a meal, Edwin could already cast small spells of Light magic with a blessed rosary. When he looked at you with his gray eyes, it was as if they had a magical power, a force that could soothe the heart.

Such a person actually had the blood of a demon, and the most unspeakable, most profane succubus at that.

Those who knew the secret pitied him, detested him, telling him over and over again, you carry sinful blood, you were born in filth, you will never be able to ascend.

Even though he was so excellent and outstanding, he would still only be an experiment for the diocesan bishop, an outstanding statue to show off his abilities. Perhaps, after he had shown his abilities, he could even become a very useful tool.

As he was about to step beyond the Vardin district and move to a higher position, the people who had raised him encountered a crisis. So they planned to sell this young man, who was already vaguely beyond their control, for a good price in exchange for what they wanted.

That is, to reveal his secret completely.

—Edwin, you will forever be trapped in the curse of your bloodline.

Everything was a foolish delusion.

But, he eventually struggled out of that Holy See that tried to trap him, blooming with a light that was hard to ignore. The secret became a secret forever. Edwin made himself never have to think about it again. Everything was heading towards normalcy.

The Bishop of the Church of Light covered his pale body with elaborate fabrics, always fastening the buttons up to his collar, and furnished his private room like a cold fortress. He had already conquered the past and completely severed ties with it.

…You’ve come this far, Edwin.

In a daze, he heard someone sigh softly in his ear, then an arm wrapped around his waist. This kind of touch… was not normal, but the Bishop knew that the heat on his body at this moment was even more abnormal.

He couldn’t smell his own scent, only a rich fragrance of roses, coming from nowhere, enveloping him from head to toe.

“Are you sure you’re handing it over to me?”

It was Tar, it was that demon, it was the gaudy flower that had bloomed from a deception.

And in this precarious world, he was the only one he could trust not to hurt him, due to the objective constraints of a contract.

How ridiculous.

He heard himself slightly part his lips, but could only vaguely utter wet syllables. He managed to turn his head to glance at the demon, who was half-carrying him and placing him on the bed in the bedroom, where soft velvet engulfed him.

The bloodline had taken complete control of him. He was now an open, moist fruit, dripping juice at the slightest touch.

Edwin tried his best to find his last shred of sanity.

The demon before him was hesitating. In this situation, starting with any action seemed too abrupt. So the Bishop raised his already weak hand and began to undo his buttons one by one, from top to bottom.

His doing this proactively had a heart-stopping sense of brokenness and temptation, and also seemed like a complete sacrifice of himself to the devil.

This continued until his fingertips touched the skin beneath the fabric. A numbing heat soaked his entire body. His hands trembled so much that he could no longer complete this simple action.

Tar helped Edwin unbutton the rest of his clothes, as if unwrapping a gift with many layers. Even a demon was amazed by this scene.

The demon with beautiful pomegranate-red eyes began to explore his gift, as if playing a game where he could get a reward.

The Bishop’s skin, never seeing the light of day, was already very pale. Under the influence of his bloodline, large patches of red marks had been rubbed out by the fabric, as if gaudy flowers were blooming on him.

With every simple touch, Edwin would have an interesting reaction.

He seemed unwilling to face his own不堪, so he proactively raised his hand to cover his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the physiological trembling and tensing of his muscles.

Of course, there were some more interesting things.

The demon’s eyes shone like rubies, as if he had seen something very novel that he had wanted for a long time. He found that Edwin had covered his eyes and didn’t intend to look at him, so he whispered in his ear, asking, “May I ask, Edwin, is the tail also an effect of the bloodline awakening…?”

Edwin could still think about the meaning of the words, although his reason was already on the verge of collapse. But Tar’s question still made him very embarrassed.

He began to wonder if choosing a demon was the right decision after all. The other party seemed to have an unusual curiosity about his current situation. And the Bishop only hoped to end this all as soon as possible, which meant not having so many touches and questions.

Tar saw the other’s eyes through the gaps in Edwin’s fingers. What could be a low, dull gray, yet be so moistened by mist that it seemed to flow? It was hard to find a comparison for it in the human world.

“Demon,” Edwin said, “I hope you don’t ask so many questions. But… yes, all of this has only appeared in the last few days.”

He soon regretted his answer, because it clearly made Tar even more interested.

Humans are a species without tails, so they don’t know what this means. The succubus’s tail had obviously just grown out, so it appeared soft and sluggish, even the opposite extreme of other demons’ tails which were sharp enough to be used as weapons.

A mature succubus could long since control their own body with ease, including the characteristics of various races, and could even use these characteristics to hunt. In fact, only conservative humans, without a thorough understanding, would hold both profane prejudices and various lewd fantasies about succubi. The characteristics bestowed upon a devil would never put them at a disadvantage, but would rather enable them to become powerful predators.

Edwin’s situation was very special.

He had suffered a backlash from this power because he had suppressed it for too long. From his blood, he was already a mature succubus, but from his body, many features had just begun to show and were still too fragile and sensitive.

Tar reached out and carefully touched the Bishop’s newly grown tail. It had a blunt end and was indeed very soft to the touch.

Almost at the instant it was touched, this incredibly soft tail flinched and fled in the opposite direction.

As a demon, Tar had indeed heard various rumors about the tails of the succubus race, but this didn’t stop him from finding it genuinely interesting.

And Edwin’s pupils suddenly dilated for a moment, like a mirror of lingering gray mist that had been shattered into countless fragments. He opened his mouth, letting out a rapid gasp, as if wanting to scream, but ultimately swallowed it back down his throat.

“Don’t…”

Before he could finish his words, the demon grabbed the tail that was trying to escape. This time, the sensation was even clearer. The tail was slightly fluffy, and it felt good to pinch.

Tar looked back innocently. Edwin hadn’t lowered his hand, but the glint of water between his fingers already said everything. In the blurred and shattered light, he saw Tar’s ruby-colored eyes, burning like a fire that heated everything.

The second half of the Bishop’s sentence disappeared. He bit his lip, seemingly wanting to bite his pale lips until they bled, but instead stained them with a beautiful crimson, the color of a rose.

Demons are truly vicious creatures, and Tar must be one of the demons who could best interpret this adjective.

He hadn’t actually done much. He had just started from the soft crown of Edwin’s head and, from head to toe, had explored him with great interest. During this time when he was most unable to bear touch, he admired the color revealed on every inch of skin, and Edwin’s fingers, which had fallen from being unable to cover his eyes.

A look of embarrassment, a look of being unable to escape, a look of being immersed in it.

For the Bishop, this was already a collapse, again and again.

“You can just… ha.”

The second half of his sentence was completely annihilated by the demon’s movements. His eyelashes trembled. His gray eyes were now like a small patch of mist that could be tasted in the mouth, with a slightly salty and wet flavor.

A feeling like an electric shock spread up his spine. He had no strength to support himself at all. Tar caught him.

“You’ve paid your fee,” the demon caressed his body like stroking a taut cello string, letting him emit muffled, unclear sounds. “Don’t worry, Bishop. Devils are a race that values integrity. I will not disappoint you.”

“Also,” Tar seemed to suddenly remember. The demon’s eyes were like crimson wine, pulling the one being watched into an endless vortex. He examined his trophy. “What I actually wanted to ask just now was… has this pattern ever appeared before?”

The Bishop’s profession made his body rather pale. After all, most of his clothing covered every inch of his skin, never seeing the daylight. Edwin could hardly bear the gaze of being looked at. He curled up his body and finally mustered the courage to look at his own body, only to see what Tar was pointing at.

Spreading across his abdomen were large patterns, the color an ambiguous red. Against the pale background, a symbol of impurity, filth, and debauchery.

“…No,” he could only say. “No, no, no.”

Reason collapsed with a roar. Edwin could even feel the thunderous crash as he finally lost control. It was as if everything he had built before had collapsed with abandon.

The Bishop reached out and grabbed Tar’s hand, pulling the demon unreservedly closer to him. He closed his eyes, his eyelashes trembling unceasingly, and physiological tears flowed down uncontrollably.

Like honey.

“Deeper… touch me.”

This was the last sentence he said while still lucid. After that, it was all unintelligible murmurs, accompanied by the taut symphony played upon his body, and the guttural sounds escaping from the depths of his throat, which could not be suppressed.

Everything, everything, was giving him pleasure.

…

When he woke up, Edwin realized his voice was hoarse.

Tar was watching him from the side. The demon’s pomegranate-red eyes were shining brightly, reflecting his own不堪 self.

It must have been included as part of the transaction’s after-sales service. There were no marks left on his body, and even his sleeping robe was properly draped over him, though the buttons had not yet been fastened. Soft white silk covered his whole body, leaving only a dry and comfortable sensation.

The Bishop looked down at his abdomen. All the ominous patterns were gone. And what he had tried so hard to hide before—there was no longer a tail. These features had disappeared completely.

He was now无比 clearly aware that what flowed in his veins was, for the time being, human blood. In other words, his succubus bloodline had once again been successfully suppressed. Although the method of suppression this time was different from before…

Forced to mature, and then master the power to control it.

The Bishop fastened the buttons of his sleeping robe one by one, from bottom to top. Tar couldn’t understand why even Edwin’s sleeping robe had a pile of buttons, nor did he have the patience to help fasten those tedious buttons. Even when unwrapping the gift just now, the thought of it being troublesome had flashed through his mind.

And Edwin always had to meticulously and guardedly cover his body completely. This time was no different.

Then, he cleared his throat with a cough. His voice was hoarse.

This was no big deal for a demon, but it was clearly not the case for the Bishop. Tar saw that the look he gave him for the first time carried a sense of awkwardness. Even his movements were a bit stiff, and he often avoided his eyes, looking down as if deep in thought.

These eyes had reflected Edwin’s most不堪 state just a few hours ago. The bright red was a reminder of this.

When he tried to get out of bed on his own, Edwin’s steps were unsteady. He stumbled, but was caught just in time by the demon who reached out a hand. His hand, through a layer of clothing, was pressed hotly against his waist.

Edwin reached out his hand, but he didn’t know what he wanted to do.

Push him away?

Tar helped you, and is helping you now. This was beyond doubt. It couldn’t be blamed on him.

The demon certainly had no real sincerity, but Edwin didn’t want Tar to think he cared too much about so-called carnal pleasure. This shouldn’t become his weakness, and the matter shouldn’t continue to bother him after it was resolved.

Now, everything was over. This matter should be buried in the graveyard of memory, never to be mentioned again.

The more he tried to convince himself of this, the sadder Edwin felt. This pathetic self-comfort only showed how much he wanted to escape.

“What do you need?”

Before he could organize his words to make a reasonable summary of the absurdity just now, Tar spoke first.

Alright, at a time like this, he just had to accept it with composure—

“Water,” Edwin said, feeling his vocal cords lacked moisture, hissing as he pronounced the word. Rattlesnake, he thought incongruously. In the end, he had just given up thinking, letting his thoughts drift everywhere.

“I just made some hot tea.”

As if having already guessed Edwin’s request in advance, and surprisingly prepared for it, Tar told him to lie back down and turned to get him water.

The Bishop, without realizing it, found himself lying back on the bed again. The bedding was soft, carrying a lingering scent of roses that was hard to dissipate.

When he thought of this, he shivered again. The scent of roses, that was the aura the demon often carried. After telling himself not to think about these things anymore, he closed his eyes, but felt an incomprehensible sense of security pulling him into the soft bed.

Was he too tired?

He hadn’t felt this way in a long time. A strange sense of peace, of being taken care of and knowing for a fact that he was being taken care of. The last time he had felt this way was when he had a severe illness at the age of seven. The young boy, in a daze, had felt that he just needed to lie there, without thinking about anything, like a fledgling snuggled in a nest. Someone touched his forehead, bringing an ice pack wrapped in cloth to cool him down.

No need to think about anything, no need to do anything.

After thinking about some things in a daze, the next second, the demon’s palm covered his forehead. Tar barely recalled the human method of checking for illness. Was it to determine by the temperature of the forehead…? The temperature of the palm was close to scalding, like metal that had absorbed heat.

Tar handed him the water and asked with some uncertainty, “Bishop, you don’t have a fever, do you?”

The warm cup in his hand gave a rare sense of comfort. The warm water moistened his throat. Edwin wanted to answer, but the words that came out were even hoarser and more不堪 than before. He could only cough a couple of times first.

Coughing seemed to have a miraculous effect on the recovery of his vocal cords. His voice was much more normal afterwards, just a bit lower than usual. “No.” He wasn’t sure if he did or not, but so what if he did? Besides, a minor flaw like a fever, he could still expel the sickness with Light magic.

Obviously, Tar knew this too, so he didn’t press the issue. His hand naturally came down from Edwin’s forehead, and only then did the Bishop finally feel uneasy about it. He had had too much physical contact with the demon—especially after the skin-to-skin intimacy just now. So when Tar approached him, he no longer had much sense of alertness, and even didn’t notice the touching hand at all.

This was not a good thing.

Tar’s thoughts were much simpler than Edwin’s. He just felt that if a transaction was to be done, it should be done thoroughly. What’s more, after the lovemaking, helping the disoriented Bishop adapt to the situation was something he should do.

The other was now like a wary cat, the demon thought, and the corners of his mouth curled into a smile.

An intentional touch would make the Bishop freeze on the spot, feeling at a loss, as if about to show his sharp claws. But a natural caress would make him lose his defenses, only to suddenly react at a certain moment, showing a look of “this is not right.”

Edwin was trying hard to steer the situation back to a normal direction. Even the demon could see this. Obviously, the Bishop was very clumsy in this area.

Alright. He leaned close to the other’s ear, and the Bishop’s nerves tensed up at once. He took in all of Tar’s sounds, without missing a single detail, including the soft exhalations.

“It’s just a transaction,” the demon leaned very close, his voice as if steeped in sweet red wine, giving the same feeling as his eyes. “Does thinking this way make it a little better? I won’t mention this to you again, and you don’t need to worry about it. You’ve already paid your remuneration.”

This kind of final, conclusive statement was ultimately spoken by Tar. Edwin’s thoughts were a bit complicated, but he didn’t show it. Instead, he nodded. He didn’t know what to say.

“Sleep,” Tar said. “It’s not yet dawn. You can sleep a little longer.”

The demon raised his hand lightly and swiftly, casting a small shadow on his face, finally landing on his hot forehead. Tar’s body temperature was normally higher than a human’s, but a demon could regulate his own temperature, so the temperature he was now transmitting was a comfortably cool sensation. It had a similar effect to an ice pack, but with a subtle difference.

It was very comfortable.

So Edwin didn’t want to think carefully about what the difference was.

After dawn, there would be many tiring and painful things to deal with. The Bishop knew Tar was right. At this point, Tar’s aura no longer felt unfamiliar to him. Even with a living, breathing demon sitting by his bed, he could sleep in the room without any reservations.

The Bishop set a deadline for himself. Before he woke up next, he would allow himself to be fragile and uneasy, allow himself not to use Light magic to heal himself, but to make the wrong thing right and use the demon’s body temperature to make himself more comfortable. He would allow himself to be so awkward that he didn’t know what to say, to fall asleep for the first time without thinking about anything, no longer so afraid of the vaguely glimpsed future.

Then, when he opened his eyes again, he demanded of himself to once again become that flawless Bishop of Light. There could be no hesitation, no leniency, no soft spots. He must have edges as sharp as a knife.

He would not be destroyed by anyone.

He would eliminate all who wanted to destroy him.

Sleep. The demon said so. You should rest.

Edwin closed his eyes. The scent of roses, though faint, was very distinct, and had even clung to him.

No need to guess. He knew that pair of beautiful red eyes was looking at him. The distance between them, from a certain moment, had become too naturally close.

This thought troubled him for a few seconds, but he soon stopped thinking about anything. Exhaustion finally swept over his body. He fell into a deep sleep on the warm, soft bed without a care.

There were no dreams. It was a rare, good sleep.

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