Reverse Dungeon

Could a demon have crept into his dreams and planted these depraved desires inside him?

Keith had never dreamed of anything like this before. Even so, he knew with absolute certainty that the thing before him was not Ian. It was only a puppet, fashioned to wear Ian’s face.

“Keith, hold me.”

Ian stood there with flushed cheeks and reddened lips, arms spread as if pleading to be embraced. Keith’s expression did not so much as twitch.

“Stop. You are not the kind of person who would act this way.”

It was true. The Ian Keith knew would never behave like that. He would never beg for affection. He would never offer himself up to someone’s lust.

No. If anything, Ian was the sort of person who would—

“If it were really you, and I climbed on top of you, you would try to calm me down. Because you would believe there was still some part of me that could be reasoned with.”

Ian’s words could be harsh. His actions could be abrasive. But at his core, he was almost painfully kind.

He was always thinking there had to be a reason. Even toward those Keith would have executed without a second thought, Ian would extend a hand. He would listen to their stories, pity them, and, in the end, keep them close.

That was why Ian’s dungeon had become something like a paradise.

To Keith, however, it was softness.

Weakness.

Keith seized the “Ian” in front of him and squeezed its shoulder hard enough that the bone should have cracked. The puppet flinched, its face crumpling as if it might cry, and tried to draw back. Keith pinned it down and climbed over it.

*I should cut it down.*

That was what his mind told him.

His body moved otherwise.

This was not Ian. Not the one he revered. It was nothing more than a puppet, a tool made to stir desire.

Then was it not only proper to use it for the purpose it had been given? freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

After all, this was only a dream.

Watching the puppet writhe beneath him, Keith unfastened his belt and began to touch himself.

The false Ian stared up at him in confusion. Fear flickered in its eyes. Tears gathered in those clear irises and slipped down its cheeks with each blink. It did not even seem to understand that it was crying. Its trembling voice sounded desperate, as though it were trying to persuade him.

Keith took the puppet’s slender hand and drew it downward.

“Keith. Keith!”

“Yes.”

Keith answered calmly, studying the small hand in his grasp. It was hard to believe such a hand could draw a bow so precisely, or handle a sword with such skill.

Raised in the royal court, untouched by scars—

even a world ravaged by demons had failed to sully Ian.

Keith pressed the puppet’s soft fingers against himself. It reacted as though his arousal were some foreign creature, a snake sliding across its skin.

*Ah. You were adorable back then.*

Back when Ian could not even call for help, when those wide, pleading eyes had silently begged Keith to save him.

Keith had always been weak to pleas for rescue.

Helping the weak was his calling.

But Ian was not weak.

Ian was the strongest person Keith knew.

Keith guided the puppet’s hand again.

“Ah...”

A sigh slipped from his mouth. The sensation overwhelmed him, fierce enough that for a moment he thought he might die in that ecstasy.

“Don’t... Don’t do this, Keith. What do you think of me?”

“Do you truly not know how I see you?”

Keith pressed his lips to the puppet’s cheek, then dragged them down to its earlobe and neck.

“Ah...”

At the height of his release, Keith woke.

His body ached with arousal.

*Have I gone mad?*

Keith rose and went to the bathroom. He filled a basin with cold water and plunged his head into it until his face felt numb with ice. Only then did he lift his head, water streaming from his hair and down his face.

*It was the curse,* Keith told himself.

Ian had cleansed the curse the night before, but Keith clung to that excuse. If it had not been the curse, then what punishment could possibly suffice for a sin like this?

It had to be the curse.

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Keith thought of the disciplinary whip he had made before boarding the ship. It was a tool often used by monks in acts of penance, meant to purify the body and mind through self-flagellation. By sharing in suffering, one could draw nearer to the divine, who bore the pain of the world.

He picked up the whip and struck his thigh with force.

Snap!

The lash bit into his skin again, leaving dark bruises that spread like spilled ink. Keith was practiced in this sort of penance. He knew how to inflict wounds that sank deep beneath the surface. Blood pooled under the skin, turning the bruises black.

Expressionless, Keith continued to punish himself, driving his thoughts into blankness. Inside that clarity, he found a measure of peace.

A white, immaculate stillness.

Knock, knock.

“Keith? Are you going to be long?”

Ian’s voice dragged Keith out of his trance.

His mind plunged back into reality.

Ian was just outside the door. Keith’s mouth went dry before he even realized it.

“I’ll be out soon.”

If Ian saw the injuries, he would know at once what Keith had done.

Without hesitation, Keith healed the wounds.

When he opened the door, Ian asked, “You washed up?”

“Yes. Go ahead.”

Keith stepped past him, then glanced back in silence.

This was a curse.

It had to be.

Otherwise, he would no longer be able to face Ian.

–

Keith spent the rest of the afternoon in a daze.

It was hardly surprising. Being surrounded by dwarves and demons was probably close to Keith’s worst nightmare. Ian was merely grateful that Keith had not drawn his sword on the spot and declared, “Die, scum!”

Expecting him to be sociable would have been asking too much.

Ian, meanwhile, devoted all his energy to winning over the elf merchant.

They were on one of the islands where the cruise ship had stopped as part of the tour. Since the cruise was meant for sightseeing, passengers disembarked at several islands along the route. Remaining onboard for the entire journey would have been painfully dull.

And if Ian had to waste time anyway, was it not better to invest it in a five-star character?

With a bright smile on his face, Ian accompanied the elf to the market.

“You need to sell things like this, this, and this if you want your business to do well. Your target customers are wandering adventurers, right? Then you need to sell what wandering adventurers actually need.”

“Oh! Now that you mention it, the other merchants were selling things like that.”

*Then why the hell weren’t you?*

Ian suppressed the thought and asked kindly, “You have a good eye. Watch what the others do and follow their lead.”

“Pfft, how could I? That’s their expertise. It would be wrong to steal their methods. Besides, I have my pride as an elf. I can’t just sell ordinary things. I need to offer my regulars something special.”

“Oh, so you’re aiming high. And are you eating well these days?”

“Last night’s dinner was incredible. My first proper meal in ten days. Thank you for treating me.”

The elf beamed.

“......”

*If this were Sema, I would have smacked him.*

But this was a five-star character, and Ian did not even own him yet. All he could do was sigh inwardly.

*If he worked under me, the first thing I’d do is change his job...*

After stopping at several more islands, they finally reached the resort town of Moa. Famous for its hot springs, it was a haven for all kinds of races.

“Let’s disembark,” Ian said.

Keith, who had skipped the previous islands, looked puzzled when Ian began to pack.

“You like hot springs?”

“......?”

“What hot springs?”

“Isn’t this a hot spring town?”

“We’re not here to relax. The underwater city is beneath this place, so get ready.”

“Ah...”

Keith nodded, finally understanding.

Of course. Ian, practical to the bone, would never stop for leisure in the middle of a mission.

“Oof, my poor back...”

The elf trailed behind them, groaning.

Keith, still ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) uncertain what use the elf was meant to serve, silently picked up his luggage. But once they disembarked, the elf blushed and quickly took the bag back.

“My regulars are so kind it’s confusing. Humans really are too good at courtship.”

“Yes. I have no intention of courting you. I have taken a vow of chastity, so you may rest easy.”

The elf belonged to a race that had nearly been annihilated in the war against demons. For that reason, at least, Keith addressed him with respect.

“Hmm? You’ve taken a vow of chastity, but you still do that every night?”