Cursed Devourer

Malik stirred before the first light of dawn crept through the curtains, his senses slowly returning to reality. The warmth pressed against him was soft and delicate, yet firm in its hold. He blinked, tilting his head slightly.

Marithia was still asleep, her bare form tangled with his, her breathing slow and rhythmic, her face nestled against his chest.

For someone so fierce and guarded during the day, she looked almost innocent now.

Her golden hair was a mess, strands sprawled across his arm, her lips slightly parted, a faint breath escaping with each rise and fall of her chest. One of her legs had found its way over his, and her arms were wrapped loosely around his torso, as if even in slumber, she was reluctant to let go.

She was… adorable.

A strange sense of contentment settled over him—a rare thing.

He had never woken up beside someone before, especially not after what he had just participated in, and yet here he was, feeling something foreign and unfamiliar in the quiet of the morning.

Then—a familiar voice intruded.

"Well, well, well."

Malik sighed, closing his eyes.

"Look at you. I leave for a few hours, and you go and make a woman yours. I'm so proud."

Kairo's laughter rippled through his mind, laced with amusement.

"The great Malik, no longer a picky little virgin. About time."

Malik groaned internally. "Not in the mood, Kairo."

"Oh, but I am. This is a momentous occasion. What, no triumphant monologue? No self-satisfaction? Come on, I expected at least a little gloating."

Malik exhaled through his nose, shifting slightly so as not to wake Marithia. "I don't need to gloat," he murmured under his breath. "I enjoyed it. That's enough."

"Oh-ho, so it was good?" Kairo teased. "Impressive for your first time."

Malik rolled his eyes. "I'm done talking to you now."

"Fine, fine," Kairo chuckled. "I'll leave you to bask in your post-virgin glow."

With that, he went silent again, but Malik could still feel his amusement lingering.

A soft hum stirred him from his thoughts.

Marithia shifted against him, stretching lazily before blinking her brilliant green eyes open.

When her gaze met his, she smiled.

It was slow, sleepy, and breathtakingly beautiful.

"Good morning," she murmured, her voice softer than usual, lacking her usual guarded edge.

Malik felt his inhuman heart tighten, just for a moment.

He didn't show it, but he acknowledged it.

"Morning," he replied smoothly.

She sighed, resting her head back against his chest. "I really enjoyed last night."

He smirked. "I noticed."

Her face heated instantly, and she lightly smacked his arm before hiding her face against him.

He chuckled, fully amused.

Then, after a moment, she lifted her head slightly, her expression shifting.

"What are we now?" she asked, her voice uncertain but calm.

Malik studied her for a second.

She wasn't being overly sentimental, but there was something underneath her question—something she probably hadn't intended to feel but did anyway.

He exhaled, running a hand through his still-messy hair. "I don't know," he admitted. "And I won't make promises I can't keep."

Her expression didn't change—not outwardly.

But in her eyes, he saw it.

A flicker of disappointment, quickly hidden.

She nodded, rolling onto her back, staring at the ceiling. "I knew that," she murmured. "Doesn't mean it's easy to hear."

Malik turned onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow. "Do you regret it?"

Marithia scoffed, her lips curving into something playful yet shy. "Of course not."

He smirked. "Then how was it for you?"

She froze.

Her face turned an entirely new shade of red as she glared at him, her lips parting but no words coming out.

Malik laughed.

"You—" she stammered, turning away to hide her face in the sheets.

Malik leaned in, enjoying this far too much. "Come on, I think I deserve an answer."

"You—" she whipped around, pressing a hand to his mouth before he could tease her further. "Shut up."

He grinned against her palm, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back to him.

She let out a small gasp, but then—his lips found hers once more.

Whatever embarrassment she had melted away, her fingers gripping onto him as their bodies reignited with heat.

The morning would have to wait.

...

An hour later, they finally lay spent and tangled once more, Marithia half-draped over him as she ran her fingers idly across his chest.

She sighed, stretching before sitting up.

"Now," she murmured, glancing at him, seriousness returning to her tone. "What are you really?"

Malik's gaze flickered toward her, expression unreadable.

"You don't want the truth."

She frowned. "That's not for you to decide."

He smirked. "Then let's say I might tell you in the future."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn't push further.

"Then what do you plan to do now?"

Malik sat up, running a hand through his messy black-and-gold hair, his mind already shifting back to his path forward.

"I'll head to the library," he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "See what I can learn about this world. After that, I'll probably stop by the mercenary hall before I leave."

Marithia nodded, watching him for a moment, then—she sighed.

"Of course you're leaving."

Malik turned slightly, studying her.

She was composed, but he had learned to read the small signs—the slight drop of her shoulders, the way she suddenly busied herself adjusting the sheets.

"You expected me to stay?"

Marithia hesitated, then shrugged. "Not really. But it was… nice."

He smiled kindly. "It was."

She gave him a small smile before standing and reaching for her clothes.

Malik, always observant, let his gaze trail over her as she dressed—the elegant curves of her form, the grace in each motion.

She caught him looking, but instead of being embarrassed, she smirked.

"Like what you see?"

Malik, unashamed, grinned. "You already know the answer to that."

She rolled her eyes, fastening her tunic.

Malik shifted, his form morphing effortlessly into his robes and hood, concealing his features once more.

With one last glance, they exchanged a simple farewell.

"See you around, Malik."

He paused at the door, smirking beneath his hood. "Maybe."

Then, without another word, he stepped into the streets—his next destination set.

The library awaited.

...

The morning air in Vel Ryn was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the warmth Malik had woken up to. The city streets were still bustling, but the early hours had a calmer energy compared to the lively chaos of the night before. As Malik walked, his robe fluttering slightly in the breeze, his mind was already shifting to what came next—the library, gathering knowledge, preparing for the future.

Yet, as always, Kairo was not about to let him have a moment of peace.

"So… are we not going to talk about it?"

Malik didn't break stride, adjusting his hood slightly as he replied, "Talk about what?"

"Don't play dumb. You know exactly what I mean."

Malik exhaled slowly and feigned ignorance. "I don't."

"You spent the night with a beautiful, powerful woman who was clearly into you. You're telling me that after all that, you have nothing to say?"

Malik's lips twitched into a slight smirk, but he kept his voice indifferent. "It was enjoyable."

"That's it? 'Enjoyable'?" Kairo let out an exaggerated groan. "Come on, partner. Give me something. Are you at least interested in seeing her again?"

Malik tilted his head slightly, considering his words. "Yes," he admitted. "I do like her."

"Ah-ha! Now we're getting somewhere!"

"But," Malik continued, his voice calm yet firm, "I have no real understanding of love—romantic or familial."

Kairo paused, his usual playful energy dimming just slightly.

Malik continued, his voice low but steady. "I never had a family... well at least a loving one. The closest thing I had to a father was Orlan, and that was more of a teacher-student relationship. Romantic love? I never had the time for it, nor the interest. I was always focused on surviving, improving, getting stronger."

"And that hasn't changed," Kairo muttered.

"No," Malik confirmed. "It hasn't."

He glanced up, spotting the massive structure of the Grand Library looming in the distance. The sight reaffirmed his resolve.

"I don't have the luxury of forming attachments," Malik said, more to himself than Kairo. "Not now. Not yet. My priority is power. I need to be prepared for when the system finally gives me another quest. That's the only thing that matters."

"So, what then? You'll just push her away?"

Malik shook his head. "No. I'll see her again if the chance presents itself. But I won't make promises I can't keep."

Kairo sighed, but there was a note of understanding beneath the amusement in his voice.

"Cold as ever, partner. But at least you're honest."

Malik simply smirked.

By then, he had arrived at the entrance of the library, and Kairo, sensing the shift in focus, let the subject drop—for now.

"Fine, fine. Go fill that monstrous brain of yours with more information. But I expect updates if you and the elf princess have a second round."

Malik rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Kairo."

Then he paused, his lips curling into a cheeky grin. "Anyway, who said there wasn't a second round?"

Kairo paused for a moment, before he clocked what Malik just said.

"YOU— YOU CHEEKY BASTARD!" His voice roared and shook Malik's mind, the underlying amusement not well hidden.

With that, Malik stepped through the grand doors of the library, pushing forward into the next step of his journey.