Chapter 403: Ask, and You Shall Receive
Darius held Xion tighter, as if his arms alone could keep him tethered to this world.
He could feel the faint tremors running through the smaller frame.
Xion had soaked his shirt with his tears and after such a long time, the uneven hitch of breath was still evident.
He instinctively patted the small back again, hpoing that his own flesh and bone alone could shield Xion from whatever cruel hand fate intended to play next.
Every sob that rippled through Xion’s body carved another wound into the Archduke’s chest.
Relief was there, yes, but under it, something colder twisted in his gut.
Dread. Pure, suffocating dread.
It sat heavy in his lungs, like he was breathing water instead of air.
What if this was the last time?
What if, when he finally let go, Xion would slip away again?
He had turned his back for only a moment, and in that time, Xion had been foolish enough to drive a knife into his own chest.
That system was gone.
Darius felt nothing for it, not even the tiniest shred of pity or sorrow.
And if sacrificing it had been all it took to heal Xion, he would have done so long ago. But this... this was different. Xion had bled where Darius couldn’t see.
The thought clawed at him. It felt too much like losing him already.
He never told Xion, but after the healer had gone blind, Darius’ nights had been plagued by the same nightmare.
He would see Xion lying in a pool of blood, with lifeless eyes fixed on him, the warmth drained from his skin.
Every time, he woke gasping, reaching across the bed to make sure he was still there.
And tonight, that fear had almost turned into a reality.
One wrong choice, one heartbeat too late, and Xion would have been gone forever.
"Xion." Darius’s voice was low, almost breaking. He gently tilted the boy’s chin upward, forcing those tear-brimmed eyes to meet his.
"Promise me, baby." His thumb brushed away the wet streaks.
Staring at his own reflection in those blue eyes, he pressed their foreheads together, closing the distance.
"Promise me you’ll never hurt yourself again. No matter the reason. Okay?"
Xion sniffed. "I won’t." His voice was small, softened by tears.
"I love you," Darius said, feverishly. Almost as if repeating it could somehow force the black-haired fool to understand the depth of his devotion.
"I love you so much. Tell me anything, and I’ll give it to you."
"Then, let me kill Michael."
The words were quiet, almost swallowed by the space between them. If Darius hadn’t been this close, he might have thought he imagined them.
"...What?"
Xion locked his gaze onto the green ones and repeated again with all seriousness.
"I want to kill him."
"Okay."
It was that simple.
Darius hadn’t even asked him why he suddenly wanted to murder someone, or why only Michael, whom he had only met once.
It made Xion stunned for a bit. "I thought you would try to talk me out of it. Maybe say, ’I will do it, and you don’t have to dirty your hands.’ Something like that."
Darius couldn’t help but kiss his forehead.
"If you get your hands dirty, I’ll wipe them for you. If you want me to get my hands dirty, I’ll gladly do so, too. "
There wasn’t a single version of reality where he would let Xion face something alone if he could stand beside him instead.
Whatever sin it was, he’d commit it a thousand times over if it meant keeping those blue eyes free of despair.
His lips trailed down to the pale cheeks, lingering there.
"So, just tell me what you want, darling. Just ask. Ask and you shall receive it."
Xion closed his eyes, letting the touch on his face sink into his core.
"Can you tell me exactly what happened?" Darius murmured, taking advantage of the moment when Xion seemed calmer.
If he didn’t hear the whole story now, it would gnaw at him endlessly.
Something so important to Xion, and he didn’t know? It was already infuriating enough.
"Ah, that." Xion tilted his head slightly, giving Darius easier access to wipe his face clean.
"They say do good deeds and you’ll be rewarded, right?"
Darius hummed, motioning him to keep going while he started fiddling with Xion’s clothes.
They were torn and messy. Definitely needed to be changed into the new ones.
"All the things I’ve done so far... they were what the gods wanted me to do. Not that they told me directly," Xion said slowly. "I suppose they were just... normal things for me."
"If getting yourself killed while saving a stranger is ’normal,’ then sure."
Xion swatted weakly at the Archduke’s hand, which was trying to pull his shirt open.
"Hey, let me check. I need to make sure you’re fine."
Could Xion stand against Darius? No.
So, he let him be while trying to explain the things that didn’t matter.
"Maybe I did something good, and the gods didn’t want me dead. When I..." He hesitated, lips pressing shut before he could finish.
What was the point in saying something that would only hurt?
So, he directly skipped it.
"Those good deeds became my ticket to this healthy body. And my system... it was the bridge between me and the gods. Once the transaction between us was done, they took the system back."
That also meant that whatever special protection Mr. Cat provided him with was gone now.
Perhaps it was so the other gods wouldn’t discover the reason for his sudden improvement.
With the system by his side, that connection would have been far too obvious.
It felt strange as he said it aloud, like speaking about someone else’s story. Gratitude toward the gods was difficult to summon when every step forward seemed to be paid for with a flesh of his heart.
Xion took his time, slowly getting the words out. Even telling how the system was, Darius’ fanatic fan, and even wanted his armor.
"You should have taken it," Darius said, sliding over the now unblemished chest.
There wasn’t the slightest hint of purple hue, only the pale, delicate smoothness of his skin.
Long fingertips had been lingering longer than necessary on Xion’s skin.
Darius was mapping the familiar planes as if reassuring himself that everything beneath them was real and alive.
His thumb brushed over where the wound should have been. Luckily, it wasn’t.
The ghost-like touch tickled the skin, forcing a little chuckle from Xion.
"It told me the same thing. Said you would happily give me all your property."
"I suddenly like this system. At least, it didn’t force you to run away from me."
Xion fell silent. Actually, the system had.
But Darius didn’t need to know that.
"Ah! Hey, what are you doing?"
He glared at the Archduke, whose fingers had just pressed against his nipple.
"Distracting you," the Archduke replied with no shame, giving it a pinch that made Xion jolt with a startled noise.
"Distracting me? More like making me focus on you."
"Whatever my baby says," Darius leaned forward, his lips mere hair’s breadth away from touching Xion’s.
"I want to bathe," the healer suddenly said, "Right now."
The remark made Darius pinch his nose in mock annoyance.
"You have to now? When I was about to kiss you?"
Xion’s lips, weighed down moments ago, curved upward faintly. Color was returning to his pale cheeks.
"I’m sweaty, dirty, and my face is covered with tears and snot. So yes, my dear, I need a bath. Help me — I don’t want to move."
The admission came with a faint grimace.
Although his body was perfectly healthy, the crying had left him drained.
And those lingering, lazy touches Darius kept leaving on his skin made him even more drowsy.
Had he not already spent hours in bed, he might have fallen asleep right then.
"Yes, my lord." Darius placed a loud, angry kiss on the healer’s cheek before covering Xion with the duvet.
Only a pair of blue eyes remained visible as they blinked up at the Archduke, obviously confused.
"I’ll take you to the hot spring. Soaking there would be better for your body."
Xion nodded.
Since that first time, Xion hadn’t had another chance to soak there.
The thought of warm water lapping at him felt nice.
He could almost feel it already.
The heat would sink into his bones, loosening every knot of stress, the faint fog of the water rising in clouds of steam.
Perhaps he should stay there.
With his head on the edge of the pool, lulled by the rhythmic sound of droplets sliding off stone into the water, he could just fall asleep all over again.
And then, he would wake up full of energy.
He needed that. After all, he had a murder to plan, and a demonic stone to take care of.