“Put your hood on,” Liut whispered, pecking Jace’s lips before moving away.

He could do that. Still muddled and dazed from the kiss, Jace blindly patted his collar. Because he wore a cloak. Like a real, long, coarse cloak, straight from cosplay. Or, well, just a real cloak?

Get a grip.

Shaking his head, Jace covered his hair with the thick fabric and tried to devise a plan of action. If Liut asked him to hide under the hood, that meant Liut suspected danger.

By all accounts, Liut was a protagonist, so nothing would befall him. No story ever ended with its protagonist dying on a road mid-arc. However, plenty of stories had a protagonist gruesomely losing their love interest to shape their motivation.

What if this alteration from the original story structure, where Jace suddenly accompanied Liut on his travels, was nothing but a cheap motivation-building subplot? How dramatic—the stallion finally found someone to cherish, but alas, the person was taken from him too fast.

Readers would eat it up. The status quo remained: Liut still unchained by any meaningful romantic relationships, but now a tragic hero. So deep, so three-dimensional.

Absolutely not. Over Jace’s dead— Um, just, no.

So he tugged the hood lower, hid his face, and mentally recounted all the dumb phrases love interests said before getting killed off.

Ultimately, he decided that the safest course of action was full denial.

Liut? Nope, never saw the guy. Who was that? He was just traveling with some random dude because his horse died. Yep.

The galloping grew louder, and as untrained as Jace’s hearing was, he could discern that a few horses were closing in on them, not just one rider.

That was fine. Not everything was a life-or-death situation. Jace was just too cautious. Call it the trauma of dying not so long ago.

“Halt!” someone yelled, making Jace flinch from how loud the voice was.

“Shh, just stay quiet,” Liut murmured. Somehow, it did soothe Jace’s nerves.

Leisurely, Liut reined in the horse and brought it to a stop.

Three riders quickly caught up with them, the road broad enough to allow them to pass and form a semi-circle in front of Liut’s horse.

Jace had felt rather good taking the front and having Liut’s broad chest to relax against, but now he would rather be hiding behind the protagonist’s back.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Liut drawled, that easy arrogance and confidence in his voice fitting for the main character of a power fantasy novel.

“Greetings, traveler,” the man in the middle said with a nod.

Peeking from under the hood, Jace could see the man wearing a set of simple iron armor with a dented breastplate and a sword at his side. He had a messy red beard and looked like a typical town guard, a total NPC. Thank god.

Liut stayed silent, but Jace felt him shift, probably returning the nod.

Clearing his throat, the man puffed his chest. “We were sent in pursuit by the Ruling Magistrate of the fine town of Lodgerod.”

He fell silent, expectantly looking at Liut.

Try harder, old man; protagonists didn’t lose their aura in favor of entertaining such nonsense.

Understanding that no question would follow his grand declaration, red beard clenched and relaxed his jaw.

“You are to return to the town with us,” he declared.

After a bit of silence, Liut asked,

“What for?”

So curt. Damn, so cool.

Red beard shifted his gaze to Jace. Quickly lowering his head so their eyes wouldn’t meet, Jace cursed in his mind.

“Under the royal decree, the person accompanying you is summoned by the Golden Guards.”

Not the protagonist, him? Some nameless nobody? What the fuck!?

“And who is accompanying me?”

Yes, Liut, exactly.

Red beard’s horse huffed and stomped its hoof.

“Do not jest with me, boy!” Red beard exclaimed. “The keeper of the tavern you both stayed at confirmed you left together earlier in the morning. There are only three people in the town with silver hair, and two of them are elders in the service of the Magistrate himself.” Pointing his finger at the loose locks cascading down Jace’s chest—locks he couldn’t hide under the hood because fucking long hair—red beard stated in full confidence, “Only one fits the description, and he is currently on your horse!”

Fuck this character design.

There was no point in meekly hiding his face anymore, so Jace looked up. It was clear which of his features was the final nail in his coffin.

“Why would someone like me be summoned by the Golden Guards, kind friends?” Jace smiled helplessly. “I am but a nobody.”

At least, he definitely should have been.

Jace felt Liut’s hold around him tighten. How cute. But also, could he maybe not so blatantly demonstrate the possessive streak? Jace’s life was on the line here.

“Not anymore,” red beard replied. “Under the royal decree, you are suspected of being a Remnant of the Celestial Blood. The Golden Guard will decide whether it is so.”

What a lore dump. Remnant of the Celestial Blood? There was something about the Celestial Overhost in the first chapters of the novel, a legend regarded as nothing but a bedtime tale.

Was it suddenly reintroduced? But… why through this nameless smut character!?

Clouds were gathering over the bright future Jace imagined for himself. He felt it—the plot he was about to be a device of. A tool for the protagonist to discover a piece of lore.

No, no, no. No. Jace was a tool for sexual gratification! Release him from the confinement of the actual, relevant plot!

“Celestial Blood?” Liut snorted. “Was the decree drafted up by a royal wetnurse?”

Funny joke, Liut, but… 

Jace could always detect foreshadowing. He ran his brain on full power, trying to quickly decide the best approach around this reintroduction of the canon legendary lore.

If Jace’s body indeed was a necessary device to set in motion part of the future—fucking paywalled—plot, then the protagonist had to follow this thread thrown at him. The premise of The Venerable One Has Found His Way was epic, the whole world at stake kind of epic. And, of course, no one but the protagonist could save the world.

The world that Jace decided to happily explore, where he planned to fulfill his lifelong dreams of visiting beautiful places and enjoying foreign cultures. His second chance at life…

An insane, far-fetched possibility that was so unreal Jace still dreaded waking up in a hospital. All of it—his drug-induced coma dream. A fluke.

But on the off chance this future full of wonders was tangible… If Jace refused to go—if he fled from the NPCs together with Liut without following up on this plot thread—what would happen? What butterfly effect would he set in motion by distracting Liut from learning more about these Remnants of the Celestial Blood? Which companions would he prevent Liut from meeting? What vital information would be lost? Information important enough to herald Liut’s demise and the world’s along with him?

Buried in his own thoughts, Jace barely acknowledged red beard and Liut arguing. Their words blended into background noise. But they were real.

The braid in the mane of Liut’s horse was real. The air he breathed in was real.

The little wound on his thumb left by Liut’s teeth was also real.

Haaaa…

Jace was surely genre-savvy enough to navigate a lore-discovery plot and come out alive. Right? Plus, for whatever reason, Liut was weirdly lovey-dovey toward him, so Liut would protect him, right? That was a good blowjob; Liut couldn’t let someone who sucked him off so nicely just die, right?

Ugh. Whatever. Dying once, dying twice. Apples, oranges.

At least this time around, he wouldn’t be a bystander; he would matter, just a tiny bit.

Prematurely making peace with his demise, Jace hardened his resolve.

He lightly grabbed Liut’s thigh and urged him to stop arguing.

“That’s right, you brat! Shut that trap of yours! Think yourself so clever!? I will have your tongue for treason!”

“I’d like to see you t—”

Jace gripped harder, and Liut obediently shut up mid-word.

“Friends, friends,” Jace said measuredly, trying to placate red beard, who was also now red face, burning with anger. “You must forgive my companion, he is very skeptical of— what did you say the decree was about? To be honest, I’m bad with complex words.” He confessed with a bashful smile.

Step one: make the most humiliated party feel important and smart.

Huffing, red beard whipped his greasy hair and tipped his chin up.

“Remnants of the Celestial Blood,” he repeated. “We don’t need your… companion—” he grimaced as his eyes swiped over Liut— “to go with you. We only need you back in Lodgerod.”

Liut snorted. “Dream on.”

Step two: bat his lashes and hope Liut would buy it and do what he asked.

Turning his head to glance up at Liut, the hold on Liut’s thigh morphing into a light caress, Jace blinked as cutely as he could.

“Liut,” he called, forlorn, “that’s my hometown.” Probably. “If I don’t do as they say, someone else might get in trouble.” Low blow considering Liut’s past. “Let me go, okay?” You’d better not.

Eyebrows knitted, Liut stared down at him, tense and reluctant.

Jace tried to squeeze out of himself the most pathetic kicked-puppy look. So sad, so alone without a huge manly man to protect him. Oh, poor Jace, hunted down by the evil king’s elite guards, what would become of him?

“Fine.” Liut cut the performance short. “We’ll go back. One day.” He narrowed his eyes at Jace and leaned closer. “Only one,” he whispered so no one else could hear, “and I don’t care if the fucking king himself wants an audience with you. We ride out at dawn in one day.”

Trembling, suddenly all too aware of how hot and handsome Liut was, Jace nodded his head like a dummy. He also felt blood rushing down to his crotch. Who could blame him? That was as sexy as who did this to you, okay.

Speaking of, someone better punch him. Lightly, so there’d be an appealing little scratch on his cheek.

Who did this to you.

Jace would get his own who did this to you, mark his words!