'S-so what if she's a woman?' Irzholk tried to avoid looking at the faint protrusion between Aerion's chest.
At least he had been taught how to stop bleeding by his parents.
After that, Irzholk looked around. There were some plants that could be used as medicine and to cover wounds.
"Wait here, I'll be back soo—"
But Aerion's hand stopped him. "Don't … leave … me. Please, stay."
Irzholk felt pity and complied. Using the leaves within reach, he managed to stop Aerion's bleeding.
"This really hurts so much, I feel like I'm going to die," Aerion cursed in a language Irzholk didn't understand, then chuckled.
Irzhok began to think Aerion was losing her mind from the unbearable pain.
"If only I hadn't studied that sword art … " Aerion grinned widely. "I wouldn't have ever felt so alive."
Aerion started recounting how her parents had pushed her to become a bride for the town leader and avoid anything dangerous.
"Annoying, my parents were. Their words echoed like a fly's buzzing."
"A fly?"
"Ah, do you call it something else here? I think it's an insect, yes, an insect. Well, out of spite, I went all in with the forbidden sword art. One of the aides saw me, and I ended up being expelled and hunted." Aerion chuckled.
"Is the town leader ugly?"
"Eh?"
"The one who would have been your groom."
Aerion thought for a moment and chuckled. "He has a large, muscular body, flawless skin, and exotic features for a Half-Blood."
"Wait, isn't that good?"
Aerion shrugged. "Well, I didn't feel any 'vibes' from him."
"Vibes?"
Aerion glanced at Irzholk briefly and smiled. "My childhood friend, Haph, once said that when I become a bride, I should be with someone who gives me certain 'vibes.'"
"What kind of vibes?"
"I don't know. The kind of 'vibes' that supposedly make you always like their face, crave their voice, and want to always be near them, breathing in their scent."
"Is that some kind of magic?"
Aerion chuckled again. "Maybe. And apparently, the town leader failed to cast it on me."
"Does that mean you have strong magic resistance?" Irzholk thought only his kind possessed that.
"Not really." Aerion paused in a puzzling way. "The proof is, I feel those 'vibes,' at least now." The kaovren stared at Irzholk.
Irzholk felt a strange sensation.
It was as if the lower part of his stomach was being twisted, and his heart was beating faster.
Instinctively, Irzholk turned his face away. However, once again, Aerion stopped him.
Their faces were now so close that their breaths met.
"We could probably produce incredibly strong Half-Blood offspring, given your peculiar magic."
Irzholk swallowed hard. "Weren't you the one who said interspecies mating with a woman from your kind carrying the child don't exist?"
"No one's tried." Aerion tore the remnants of her clothing and pressed her bare torso against Irzholk. "I think we should be the first."
Overwhelmed by instinct, Irzholk 'attacked' and 'pounced' on Aerion.
The process was both bizarre and extraordinary. Aerion never expected that the pain she endured and the possibility of her wounds reopening every time Irzholk 'pushed' would only make her heartbeat race faster.
*#*
When morning came, Irzholk decided to leave. He intended to look for more medicinal plants, though in truth, he needed time to process.
'What have I done?'
Not only had he helped an enemy, but he had also mated with her? Surely, Irzholk would be cursed by the gods.
And his thoughts quickly turned to his strange magic.
[The Necromancer System has reactivated]
[Your current warrior: Beastkin Lv. 2]
Irzholk exhaled, feeling relief like never before, especially since he had managed to find three other medicinal plants, including one particularly effective for pain relief (something Aerion frequently complained about last night).
'Last night...' Irzholk didn't want to think about it anymore.
He planned to give Aerion the medicinal plants and then end their relationship. Perhaps they hadn't been cursed yet, but Irzholk didn't know what would happen next.
"You finally returned."
Irzholk was greeted by spears and arrows pointed at him.
The villagers had been waiting for him. At least five adults and three teenagers his age were there.
They had captured Aerion, who hung weakly.
Among the captors was Irzholk's father, wearing an expression that was incredibly complex.
It wasn't the usual fierce anger he always directed at Irzholk. His father couldn't even bear to look at him.
At that moment, Irzholk realized what it felt like to be a disappointment.
"Irzholk, you have committed an act vile in the eyes of the gods and the heavens. This wickedness must not be allowed to spread."
"As your flesh and blood, it is my duty to purify you."
His father finally looked at Irzholk, but this time with a sorrowful expression. "You are sentenced to death."
Irzholk couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had endured all the scolding and beatings his father gave him.
He thought it was just how a naughty child like him should be disciplined.
But ...
'Does a father have the right to wish for his own child's death?'
Even if Irzholk had done wrong, shouldn't his father defend him and ask for forgiveness from the villagers?
Shouldn't his father protect him?
'This is all nonsense.'
And so, Irzholk lost control. He summoned the Beastkin, which immediately attacked the people before him.
Though they resisted with magic, the Beastkin managed to kill three, drive away four, and leave one gravely injured.
The injured one was his father.
Believing that Irzholk was possessed by a demon, his father immediately slit Aerion's throat.
Instead of bringing Irzholk to his senses, this act only fueled his rage. He ordered the Beastkin to slaughter his father mercilessly.
But before a single blow landed, the Beastkin's movements froze, and its body disintegrated into dust.
Irzholk himself suddenly collapsed. He lost consciousness and died.
From that moment, though his father survived and was hailed as a righteous enforcer of justice, he was also scorned as a Kinslayer.
As for Irzholk and Aerion, though they died as sinners, their story was later romanticized by some as a poignant tale of forbidden love.
A story many hoped would serve as a bridge to unite the fractured races.
*#*
"That sounds almost like a direct copy of Romeo and Juliet," Lucas remarked blandly.
A work by the most renowned artist, Shakespeare, whose writings continued to inspire humanity even in their final days.
Lucas began wondering whether dominant species shared collective memories. But how? Genetics? Biological energy transfer? Cosmic communication?
Various theories surfaced, and Lucas felt strange. He was a being who might now be called a god by those below, yet he still sought answers.
Was there a way for me to gain omniscience?
Lucas sighed, glancing at his Divine Intervention token.
"I'll try harder and hit milestones."
[You have unlocked a new milestone: When Love is Found]
[You now have 1 Divine Intervention token]
Lucas blinked. The name was a bit cringy, but it meant he had another chance to acquire a feature he desired.
"Is there a feature that lets me know everything?"
[There is not!]
The system responded bluntly and decisively.
[Knowledge is a priceless thing, obtained only through a long and arduous process of growth and sacrifice.]
"And as usual, 1 Divine Intervention token isn't enough?"
[If such a feature existed, it would cost over a million tokens.]
That's too harsh.
But Lucas understood. After all, the most exciting part of knowledge is uncovering and formulating it yourself.
Lucas decided to save the token, knowing there were many things to consider, and he might need it in the future.
Especially because The Chosen One project had stalled.
Fortunately, Lucas managed to 'claim' Irzholk's life at just the right moment. Otherwise, Irzholk might have brought ruin to the Alhamera.
I need to be more careful in choosing.
[TIP: Try using <The Chosen One> on a creation intelligent enough to utilize it for advancing the well-being of your created species]
Of course, I know that, duh.
Since Irzholk was an outcast, Lucas thought that might drive him to become someone who wanted to prove himself and stay motivated.
That part was achieved, but Irzholk's actions were too reckless, inciting the wrath of his kind rather than earning their respect.
In the end, Irzholk, who had been endlessly persecuted, exploded into an uncontrollable 'hatred'.
"If that's the case, it seems I should start with someone more radical. Someone who truly desires to restore their people's glory."
And that individual is now hiding behind the fragile walls of the Hope race's kingdom.
The last pure-blooded Alhamera remaining in that kingdom.