Chimera of Batius - Chapter 23

Ruzerolt sat Cheil on the bed and, with gentle movements, began to remove his coat. The wilted bouquet from Cheil’s pocket was carefully retrieved and placed on the nightstand. After taking the blue roses out of the vase, Ruzerolt arranged the red flowers inside. Surprised, Cheil leaned forward.

“Ruzerolt, they’re all wilted now…”

“But their red is still so vivid,” Ruzerolt replied warmly.

With his rough fingers, he carefully adjusted the blossoms. Then, removing his own coat, he approached the bed. At that moment, a servant entered with warm water and a cloth.

“Sir Ruzerolt, where shall I put this?”

“Over here.”

The wide basin was placed before Cheil’s feet. Seeing the swollen ankle, the servant moved to tend to it.

“You may leave,” Ruzerolt said, taking the cloth from the servant’s hands. Both the servant and Cheil looked at him in puzzlement, but neither dared to question him.

The servant was not so naive as to misunderstand why Ruzerolt had dismissed River. Obedient to his master, he quietly left the room. As soon as the door closed, Ruzerolt rolled up his sleeves and knelt before Cheil. He gently pushed up the fabric of Cheil’s trousers.

“Sir Ruzerolt, it’s fine. I can do it myself,” Cheil said, trying to stop him with a nervous grip on his wrist.

“I told you I would take responsibility for you from now on. So please, allow me,” Ruzerolt replied, his expression dark and serious as he placed a hand on Cheil’s knee. “Your injury is partly my fault. Let me take responsibility with my own hands.”

“I…”

“I don’t want to see my lover enduring pain alone. And I will not let others care for you.”

At those words, Cheil withdrew his hand. Though his fingers trembled with hesitation, Ruzerolt pretended not to notice. He slid his hand beneath the trouser leg, slowly pushing the fabric up to reveal a smooth, soft calf.

As his fingers traced the skin, Ruzerolt bowed his head and pressed a kiss to Cheil’s flawless knee. Then, with a gentle touch, he stroked downward, brushing over the ankle before carefully submerging the foot in the warm water.

“Is it too hot?”

“…It’s fine.”

Ruzerolt poured water over the swollen ankle, and a faint steam rose wherever it touched the skin. The more he tended to the injury, the more intense the feeling in his chest became. Though Cheil was not an omega, his tall, robust frame stirred a profound protective instinct in Ruzerolt. He felt a fierce need to keep him safe.

He seems so fragile, I fear I might hurt him even when I hold him…

The memory of Dexler striking Cheil flashed brutally in his mind.

How dare he… how dare he…

Ruzerolt let out a deep sigh. Noticing this, Cheil tilted his head in concern.

“Are you alright? I can do it myself, if you’d prefer…”

“Cheil.”

“Yes, Sir Ruzerolt?”

“Do not stay away from me.”

Cheil nodded.

“Always stay where I can see you.”

Cheil nodded again. Then, his long fingers gently touched Ruzerolt’s cheek.

“I want to see you smile and be happy, yet it seems I only bring you trouble… I feel terrible for that.”

“I am already happy, simply for having met you.”

“Then… could you stop worrying for a moment… and kiss me?”

Their gazes met and held. With a loving expression, Cheil cautiously opened his arms. Despite being the one who was hurt, he was trying to comfort Ruzerolt.

Cheil was not like the cheap dancers who tried to seduce with their bodies alone. He approached with his heart—not with riches or empty pleasures, but with the simple sincerity of someone offering flowers. Was there anyone in the world more precious?

He was utterly captivated. Ruzerolt leaned over the bed and kissed him.

Cheil wrapped his arms around Ruzerolt, clutching his clothes tightly. Ruzerolt held Cheil by the back and laid him down on the bed. The movement parted their lips for a moment before Ruzerolt leaned in again, kissing him with deep intensity. Their tongues met, exploring one another as Cheil’s breath hitched. A trail of saliva slid down his chin, the kiss growing more fervent as their breathing quickened.

“Ah…”

Ruzerolt pulled back slightly, bracing himself over Cheil.

“Are you alright?”

Cheil let out a soft laugh.

“I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve asked me that.”

“It is because I worry for you.”

“Then let me tell you once more.”

Cheil took Ruzerolt’s hand and smiled sweetly up at him.

“I don’t need anything else. I only need you. When you touch me, all the pain disappears.”

Ruzerolt swallowed hard as Cheil’s fingers began to unbutton his shirt. With each button released, the lavender scent grew stronger.

“So please… touch me more.”

Ruzerolt bent down and bit Cheil’s chest. He was madly in love, consumed by the desire to possess every part of him. What would have become of Cheil if he hadn’t rescued him from Dexler’s hands?

Ruzerolt’s lips descended slowly, nibbling the taut skin of Cheil’s abdomen. When he slipped a hand beneath his clothes and grasped his length, Cheil’s smooth p3nis was fully exposed. Without hesitation, Ruzerolt took it into his mouth.

“Ah…”

Cheil clutched the sheets and arched his hips. The tip of his glans brushed the inside of Ruzerolt’s cheek, hardening until it pressed against his palate.

A wet, rhythmic sound filled the room. Cheil began to thrust into Ruzerolt’s mouth. Ruzerolt held the base of his p3nis with one hand and took the rest deep into his mouth. As it swelled, it brushed his uvula and pushed into his throat, filling it completely until it threatened to steal his breath.

“Ugh…”

With a choked sound, Ruzerolt turned his head and sucked harder. As he worked, the glans rubbed against his molars before slipping out. Each time Cheil jerked his hips upward, he penetrated Ruzerolt’s throat. Tears welled in Ruzerolt’s eyes. His desperate effort to accept everything his lover gave was profoundly moving. Watching him, Cheil felt a surge of sadistic desire.

How could he cry like this just from having something in his throat? How many tears would he shed when I plunge into him until he breaks? Would he close his eyes if I slapped him hard? Or would he endure it if I tortured his glans, denying him release?

Ruzerolt’s expression —one of utter acceptance— filled Cheil with deep satisfaction.

Cheil stretched out a long hand and gripped the back of Ruzerolt’s neck. Then, he pushed his member deep into his throat and rocked his hips repeatedly. A choked, guttural sound escaped Ruzerolt.

He shouldn’t let him finish so soon.

The moment Cheil withdrew, Ruzerolt coughed violently. Cheil ejaculated across his face, streaking his green eyes. The sight was like snow falling in a forest—strangely beautiful.

“I love you, Sir Ruzerolt.”

This was love. Since the vision of Ruzerolt, marked by his semen, pleased him so deeply, Cheil had to call it love.

***

Late in the afternoon, on the ground floor of the order’s building, Reym stood by the window, gazing outside aimlessly.

“Reym, why do you look so grim lately? Anyone would think you’d lost your lover in the war.”

Hein approached and slung an arm over his shoulder. Reym shoved it away irritably and sighed.

“What’s wrong? Something’s going on. Don’t tell me you’ve broken up with a secret lover…”

“Hein, please, stop talking nonsense.”

“Well, who would want a man as gloomy and boring as you?”

Hein leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

“Tell me. Talking might help. Is it about the captain?”

“…”

“I’d bet on it. Who else could cause you so much worry? It’s not like you have a lover or anything.”

Reym shot him an even more annoyed look.

“What do you think of him? The dancer.”

“Mmm… Well, he’s handsome, has a good build, dances well. And since he dances so well, he’s probably good in bed, too. Also…”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

Hein nodded and thumped his head back against the wall.

“He’s very clever. I don’t think he’s an ordinary man.”

“I knew it. You think so, too?”

“But he doesn’t seem particularly close to Captain Dexler. I have a gut feeling about these things.”

“You can’t trust your gut.”

“Same goes for you. Want me to tell you your greatest virtue? You’re as stubborn as the captain. And your biggest flaw? You’re just as inflexible as he is.”

Hein gave him a pat on the back. Reym sighed and scanned the portraits hanging on the wall, his gaze settling on one of a silver-haired man.

“Yes, I know. I want to believe it’s all in my head, but I don’t think it is.”

“Then why don’t you ask the butler?”

Hein pointed out the window. Just outside, River was passing by.

“Isn’t he the one who’s spent the most time with the dancer, after the captain?”

After a moment’s thought, Reym shouted.

“River!”

Startled, River froze.

“Y-yes?”

He looked around to see who had called him and spotted the two men. Hein waved. Reym was already striding out of the building toward him. River looked back and forth between them in confusion before finally fixing his gaze on Reym.

“Were you calling me, Sir Reym?”

“Yes.”

“What can I do for you?”

River lifted the package he was carrying.

“They said you were in charge of service at the guest house, correct?”

“Yes, but not anymore… Until a few days ago, I was attending to Mr. Cheil. Why do you ask?”

“What is your impression of him?”

“Mr. Cheil?”

River tilted his head, considering the intent behind the question. Reym watched him like an interrogator. Slightly uneasy, River continued.

“Mr. Cheil… Well, he was never arrogant or rude. And… even when mistakes were made, he never became angry with me. Others would have been furious over far less. Also…”

“That’s not what I mean. Did he ever seem… duplicitous? As if he had a split personality?”

“That… I don’t know. Mr. Cheil was always very kind to me.”

“Ugh… Great…”

Reym ran a hand through his hair, recalling Cheil’s two-faced nature.

“Why are you asking this…?”

“It doesn’t matter. You don’t need to know. Go.”

“Yes…”

River nodded and continued on his way.

“But what is his real objective?”

Reym squeezed his eyes shut and stood motionless for a long moment.

“Reym! If you don’t want to freeze into a statue, get inside already!”

Hein called after him, but Reym only swirled his cloak and strode toward the Order’s building. Not far from where he had stopped, on the opposite corner, Ruzerolt emerged from the shadows.

“Well? Did you get the answer you wanted? What did River say?”

The voices of Hein and Reym faded into the distance. Listening, Ruzerolt sank into deep thought.

Reym was a stubborn man. Once he convinced himself of something, it was nearly impossible to change his mind.

Was it Cheil’s past that made Reym so distrustful? Was being a dancer truly such an insurmountable barrier?

In a way, this reaction was to be expected, even if it was uncharacteristic of Reym. Still, understanding the situation did little to ease the profound bitterness Ruzerolt felt—that people would judge Cheil for his past without knowing the man he truly was.

“Then I will love and trust him more than anyone.”

He murmured a confession Cheil would never hear.

A vow that, despite the doubts and prejudices of others, he would love and trust Cheil more than anyone else.

With his resolve to protect their love strengthened, Ruzerolt turned and walked away in silence.

* * *

One night, Cheil dreamed he was standing before Batius’s cabin.

He had only lived in that cabin when he was very young. Yet, in the dream, he was there with his adult body and present mind.

Though he knew it was a dream, the scene was unnervingly vivid. On the first floor was an old kitchen with a wide table. A large pot hung in the fireplace, and from it came the sound of something bubbling. Sometimes it was food; other times, it was not.

“It’s been a long time,” he mused, leaning against the window frame. Suddenly, a sweet smell filled the air—so cloying he felt his tongue might go numb. It was a strange scent, neither pleasant nor repulsive. Cheil inhaled deeply and followed it.

“The basement…?”

The smell emanated from the entrance to Batius’s laboratory. Cheil pushed the door open, and the odor, now so dense it was dizzying, wrapped around him. He frowned instinctively.

Yet it was not by his own will that he descended the stairs. This dream, for all its vividness, had robbed him of control over his body. Despite his disgust, Cheil felt himself moving toward the basement.

Screech!

Huff, huff!

An animal’s wail pierced the air, followed by labored breathing. Cheil shoved the half-open basement door wide.

On one side of the spacious room stood an incinerator for burning animals. On the other, various cells of different shapes. And in the center—the source of the smell—two chimeras, neither human nor beast, were mating like dogs. Shackles bound their necks and limbs. In that state, the one that appeared to be the male was frantically mounting the female.

“Cheil.”

A man standing beside them spoke. He was misshapen, with crooked legs: Batius. The same man who had created and raised him.

“…Batius?”

For a dream showing fragments of the past, the sequence was disjointed. Here was Cheil, with his present mind and body, conversing with the Batius of the past. He couldn’t distinguish which parts were true memories and which were fabrications of his subconscious.

Cheil stopped thinking.

What did it matter? It was only a dream.

He sat on a random, dirty chair and watched the chimeras. Batius observed them with intense focus. The sweet, cloying smell was giving him a headache. Cheil massaged his temples and said,

“Quite the hobby you’ve picked up.”

“It is part of my research,” Batius replied.

“Watching chimeras mate?”

“As difficult as it may be to believe, these creatures possess the nature of an alpha.”

Cheil crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. He inhaled, detecting the characteristic alpha scent layered beneath the sweet stench.

Splash, splash…

A thick liquid dripped from the female’s body. Unmoved by her suffering, the male bit her neck and thrust harder.

“Cheil, remember this well. This is the scent an alpha in heat gives off.”

“This nauseating stench? It’s disgusting.”

“Yes, it is revolting. A foul odor emitted by inferior beings when they lose control to their instincts.”

“But I am an alpha, too.”

“You are not just any alpha. You are a superior alpha. Unlike them, you do not let your instincts rule you.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Agrh!

The chimera howled again. As Cheil watched the grotesque scene, he couldn’t help but think of Ruzerolt.

Perhaps he wanted to see him like that—broken and moaning in pain. Maybe the ideal moment to subdue him would be during his heat.

“But this strong smell… it is somewhat bothersome.”

Batius looked at Cheil and smiled a sinister smile.

“You can choose whomever you want.”

“…Choose?”

“Yes. If you select someone you desire, even a stench this unpleasant will seem sweet to you.”

“How do you know?”

“You will find out, Cheil.”

Batius’s figure began to fade. The chimeras’ moans grew weaker.

“You will find out, my creation.”

A wave of dizziness swept over Cheil. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers to his temples.

“Agh…”

When he opened his eyes, he saw the ceiling of his room. Moonlight illuminated the elegant space, which was filled with blue roses.

“What a strange dream,” Cheil murmured, shaking his head to clear it. Yet the sweet aroma from the dream lingered.

Was he still asleep?

He inhaled deeply, trying to clear his head, but the scent persisted in the air. And mixed with it, he detected a fresh, clean aroma, like a forest after rain.

He looked beside him. Ruzerolt was curled under the sheets, trembling.

“Ruzerolt?”

Cheil reached out and pressed his forehead to Ruzerolt’s. His skin was warm, as if with a mild fever. And the sweet scent was emanating from him, strongest at the pulse point on his neck.

Leaning closer, Cheil buried his nose in Ruzerolt’s neck and inhaled. A floral, fresh scent—like a forest abundant with flowers and ripe fruit—filled his lungs. It was the scent of an alpha, but an intoxicatingly pleasant one.

He breathed in again. The sweetness was still there, but it was incomparably more alluring than the stench from his dream.

“Cheil, remember this well. This is the scent an alpha in heat gives off.”

“…Batius.”

Cheil smiled and drew Ruzerolt into a tight embrace.

Ruzerolt’s rut was approaching—the moment he would be swept away by his most basic instincts.

“It seems you’re also eager to be close to me, Ruzerolt…”

Cheil inhaled the sweet scent, feeling his own heart quicken. Sleep was now impossible.