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Chapter 18 — They Touched
The air shimmered with a faint, fermented sweetness, laced with the fresh, slightly metallic scent of a forest after rain. It wasn’t strong, yet it was strangely intoxicating—impossible to ignore, impossible not to be drawn in by.
Su Cheng drew in a breath and immediately felt her head grow heavy. For a moment, she nearly blacked out on the spot.
She forced herself to stay conscious, dragging every fragment of sorrow and joy she could recall through her mind just to anchor herself.
Only then did she manage to find her voice again.
“Your Highness—”
But the man had already stepped closer.
A heat-soaked finger pressed lightly against her lips, cutting off the rest of her words.
His skin was burning. It felt as if it could scorch away what little reason she had left.
And beneath that touch lingered the same sweet, intoxicating scent—like candy held just before her mouth, tempting her to lick it clean.
“Do you want to become my devotee?” he murmured softly. “From now on… no one will be able to refuse you.”
Su Cheng froze.
His fingertip traced along her lower lip with an almost absent tenderness, like a musician lightly plucking a string.
The skin of his hand was smooth, refined—no trace left of a warrior’s roughness. So much so that she could almost clearly feel the ridges of his fingertips through touch alone.
“Mm…”
His scorching hand tilted her chin up, his neatly trimmed nail pressing faintly into the soft skin behind her ear.
“You know who I am, don’t you?”
His palm rested against the pulse in her neck, while his little finger idly tangled a loose strand of her hair.
“Mm,” Su Cheng replied quietly. “You’re now the God of Corruption, one of the Dark God’s lapdogs. Before that, you were the Grand Cantor of the Eternal Night Cult, in charge of the sacred hymn rituals. Even earlier, you were a musician in some guild—flute, strings, drums, singing, dancing, acrobatics… you did it all.”
“……”
He fell silent for two seconds, then sighed faintly.
“I don’t do acrobatics.”
“I know,” Su Cheng said flatly. “I was just trying to make it rhyme.”
“Oh.” A smile returned to his voice, light and teasing. “Is that all?”
Su Cheng cleared her throat. “And later, you killed a noble, became a wanted criminal, and ended up playing music in the Dark God’s domain.”
She paused briefly.
“And then, during the great purge, the Church captured you. They sealed your combat power, tortured you, cut out your vocal cords, your tongue, your fingers… and executed you by dismemberment. You were bound to the altar, dragged by four dragons and still couldn’t be torn apart. In the end, it took a dragon to destroy your body. You never once begged for mercy.”
The god studied her thoughtfully.
In those eyes, dark like quenched volcanic glass, something strange flickered—then vanished in an instant.
Then he laughed again.
“Ah… so you like me that much?” His tone turned playful, almost wicked. “Can you tell me other people’s stories like that too?”
“?”
That’s because I skipped chapters, not because I like you.
And honestly… that part of the story had left a deeper impression on her than she cared to admit.
She had once thought this man was the kind who bent with the wind, who knew when to yield.
She hadn’t expected that version of him.
At least now, it seemed the God of Corruption hadn’t changed much—even after becoming something beyond gender.
In the original story, this god often appeared as a woman before Lin Yun. But if one followed the setting strictly, it had likely taken male form in front of others as well.
These gods had once been human—but after ascending, they no longer belonged to anything as simple as biology.
Strictly speaking, they didn’t even have a fixed concept of gender anymore.
Only gods like Corruption—who toyed with desire itself—would shift forms so casually. Others tended to retain their former appearance out of habit… though some abandoned it entirely.
For example, there had been one in the original story who, as a man before ascension, appeared to Lin Yun as a woman afterward.
Su Cheng: “……”
All things considered, she had to admit—those who refused to submit even in death were… admirable.
But she wasn’t about to voice admiration in front of the God of Corruption.
Not here, in Church territory.
And besides—if she said it out loud, he’d only get smug about it.
That would be unacceptable.
“I also know,” she said suddenly, lifting her chin slightly, “that among the seven of you, you’re the weakest. All six of your peers are stronger than you. They just weren’t the ones captured.”
The god burst into laughter without a trace of anger.
“At least I can sing, dance, and play instruments,” he said brightly. “They can’t do that.”
Su Cheng stared at him, speechless.
“And they weren’t captured because they died in battle,” he added lightly.
“That’s just twisting things!” Su Cheng shot back. “Everyone knows capturing someone alive is harder than killing them!”
The god gave a soft hum.
“Then tell me,” she pressed, “which of your peers do you think you can beat in a straight fight?”
He paused.
Properly stumped.
Su Cheng lifted her chin in triumph. “See?”
“Fine.” His hand slowly brushed against her burning ear, voice low and indulgent. “I’ll admit it. What else do you want to ask, my dear?”
His fingertips traced along the faint veins beneath her skin.
“Or are you just stalling?”
Su Cheng opened her mouth—
And his thumb suddenly slid between her lips.
Warm. Soft. Intrusive.
It pressed against her tongue, gently forcing it back, as if teasing something hiding inside.
The sweetness was overwhelming.
Like melted honey, like sugar-coated almonds dissolving on her skin.
Too sweet.
Her mind went foggy.
She didn’t know when her teeth had clenched down on him.
A primal instinct surged—she wanted to bite, to tear, to taste the sweetness flowing beneath that heat.
Her throat swallowed involuntarily. Her senses drowned in that overwhelming flavor.
Every part of her—jaw, tongue, teeth—began to ache with hunger.
Not for food.
For him.
Bone, blood, warmth, breath—everything that belonged to him.
She wanted it all.
To touch it. To swallow it. To fuse it into herself until nothing remained separate anymore.
Survival instincts, once sharp enough to push her to kill for life, were nothing compared to this.
That desire had been rational.
This… wasn’t.
Her mind was unraveling.
There was only one certainty left.
She bit down.
And tasted divine blood.
Sweet.
Like sugar glaze on bread. Like condensed fruit nectar. Like honey distilled into something pure.
She didn’t even think about how she was able to break his skin.
She tore at his robe, pushing the crimson fabric aside, and shoved him down.
The dark-haired god simply leaned back with a faint smile—no resistance at all—as he sat against the steps.
Red light from the hall streamed down, pooling like blood between his collarbones.
His hair spilled like inked silk across the marble steps, curling around his chest.
He lay exposed.
Every line of his body carved with unbearable beauty—like marble warmed by moonlight.
Power coiled beneath that seemingly effortless surrender, like a beast pretending to sleep.
And Su Cheng pounced.
She straddled his waist, pressing a hand to his chest, looking down into those molten-black eyes.
His lashes trembled like butterfly wings.
She leaned closer without thinking.
Fingertips tracing his sharp cheekbone, the ridge of his brow, the hollow beneath his eyes.
For a moment, her mind drifted—memories of past relationships surfacing. Tender ones. Painful ones. Fleeting ones.
None of them had ever felt like this.
She had never wanted to touch someone so intensely.
Even when brief clarity returned, she knew this wasn’t love.
It was influence.
Divine interference.
And yet—
She still enjoyed it.
Because she had touched him.
That unbearable hunger… was finally satisfied.
Her fingers traveled across his lean chest, through his dark hair, over his tense abdomen as his muscles tightened beneath her touch.
He watched her quietly, still wearing that mask-like smile.
She bent down and kissed him—his jaw, his throat, the sharp line of his neck.
His body trembled slightly.
Then his hand came up, resting at the back of her neck.
Not resistance.
Permission.
But she no longer cared.
She thought of roses in morning mist, petals brushing her cheeks, crimson buds trembling in the wind.
She tasted sweetness again—honey, wine, blossoms bursting on her tongue.
Her breath tangled with his.
Dark hair spilled over her face.
A soft sigh escaped the god’s throat, satisfied.
His fingers tangled in her curls while the other hand loosened her clasp.
Heat pressed between them—dangerous, invasive, inescapably alive.
“So—”
He looked at her with eyes like burning desire itself, golden threads cracking across his irises like stars in an abyss.
“Are you happy?”
Su Cheng was dazed.
She grabbed his arm, trying to steady herself—only to fall back again.
Up, then down.
Like grapes crushed beneath a press, juice flowing into carved wood.
She thought it would hurt.
It didn’t.
It felt… warm.
Like sinking into a hot spring, every pore filled, every thought dissolved.
Her breath shook as she tilted her head back.
Above them, a celestial horse statue loomed, watching in silence, gemstone eyes burning with distant fury.
A soft laugh brushed her ear.
“And—”
He didn’t wait for her answer.
Didn’t seem to care.
His fingers brushed her cheek, trailing back to her spine.
“And it seems…”
His voice lowered slightly.
“You’re carrying something interesting.”
Su Cheng snapped back to clarity.
His hand had landed exactly where the curse mark lay.
