I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)-Chapter 79: A Measure of Courage

The Duke’s study was usually as cold as a meat locker. But today, the atmosphere was different. Zarius sat behind his desk. But he wasn’t weighed down by the curse the way he normally was. No, he looked... remarkably alive.

Elios and Flio stood like twin statues of disbelief just a few paces away. Their eyes kept darting toward the Duke, scanning for the tell-tale signs of the curse, the pale skin, the trembling hands, the hollowing of the cheeks, but they found none of it. Instead, they found a man who looked like he could personally wrestle a frost-giant and win.

"Thank the Heavens," Elios said, his voice uncharacteristically thick with relief. "We know we can count on you, Lord Cherion." 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Flio adjusted his spectacles. "Lord Cheriony, your healing magic is incredible."

"Right?"

The voice came from somewhere off to the side, sharp and far too cheerful for this early in the morning. Cherion was leaning against a bookshelf, arms folded, wearing the kind of knowing expression. He pushed himself off the shelf and strolled toward the desk..

"Look at me," Cherion said, gesturing vaguely at himself like he was presenting a prize-winning stallion at a county fair. "Color in my cheeks. Eyes actually focusing on things. Steady on my feet. See? I’m okay. No fainting, no dramatic passing out on the rugs, no death-rattles." He puffed out his chest slightly, shooting a wink at Zarius. "Turns out, I’ve got more stamina than I thought."

Zarius didn’t answer immediately. His mind was elsewhere, trapped in a relentless loop of the conversation they’d had behind closed doors. Or, as Cherion liked to put it, the "package deal."

The absurd, suicidal, yet strangely logical request that had been eating at him all night. He stared at his strong, steady hands, and then looked up at the little omega who was currently eyeing a bowl of decorative fruit on his desk as if considering it as a morning snack.

Cherion didn’t wait for Zarius to break the silence. He never did. "So," he said, turning his gaze toward Elios and Flio with a predatory sort of playfulness. "Since we’re all marveling at my handiwork, let’s get down to business. What do you two think about me going along for the subjugation?"

The room went quiet, and not the usual kind. It was the kind of silence that made even small movements feel loud.

Elios actually stumbled back half a step, and Flio’s spectacles nearly slid off the bridge of his nose. They looked at Cherion, then at Zarius, then back at Cherion, as if searching for the punchline to a very dark joke.

"You?" Flio stammered, his brain clearly running in circles. "Subjugation? In the middle of a monster suppression?"

"Why not?" Cherion shrugged, his tone as casual as if he were discussing a change in the lunch menu. "You just saw the results. He needs me, Flio. If he leaves me here, who’s keeping that curse off him? Then what? Are you going to rub his shoulders and hope for the best?"

Elios, ever the tactician, was the first to recover. He rubbed his chin, his eyes narrowing as he did the mental math. "It’s... it’s not a bad idea. In fact, it’s a brilliant one. If we can keep the Duke’s condition like this throughout the subjugation, the casualty rate would plummet. Not to mention the psychological boost for the men."

"Exactly!" Cherion pointed a finger at Elios. "The man gets it. Strategic brilliance. Gold star for Elios."

Zarius felt a muscle in his jaw twitch. He listened to them chatter, Elios and Flio already discussing the logistics of a reinforced carriage and a specialized medical unit, as if the decision had already been made by a committee. It felt wrong. It felt like a heavy stone sitting in his gut. The North was a graveyard for well... someone like Cherion, especially ones who looked like they’d break if the wind blew too hard.

"You’re all talking," Zarius’s voice cut through the room like a sharp blade, "as if I have agreed to this."

The chatter died instantly. Cherion turned, tilting his head with a defiant sparkle in his eyes. "Won’t you?"

Elios stepped forward, his expression turning grave. "Your Grace, please. We must consider the objective. This subjugation is the most dangerous one in a decade. If your health falters during the fight, we don’t just lose the battle, we lose the North. Having Lord Cherion there isn’t just a comfort, it’s a strategic insurance policy."

"For the success of the mission, Your Grace," Flio added, though his voice was smaller. "And for your own life."

Zarius got to his feet, moving with that calm menace that always made the room feel much smaller. He didn’t look at his advisors. He walked around the desk, boots pounding in a steady, threatening rhythm, until he was standing directly in front of Cherion.

He was much taller, his shadow swallowing the smaller man whole. He wanted to see a flicker of doubt. He wanted to see Cherion realize that this wasn’t a game.

"Do you have any idea what the Subjugation actually is?" Zarius asked. "It isn’t a ’cold day.’ It is an entity. It will freeze the tears in your eyes before they can fall. The monsters out there don’t kill for food, they kill because they hate everything that breathes. You’ll be sleeping on ground that feels like iron, smelling blood and wet fur for weeks. There is no ’mild sauce’ to fix it if things go wrong."

He was trying to firm the man’s resolve, to strip away his delusions. He waited for Cherion to stammer or back down.

Instead, Cherion just blinked, looking mildly unimpressed. "Wow. Very poetic. You should write travel guides, Your Grace. Really paints a picture." He leaned in a little, a hint of that familiar, biting humor dancing on his lips. "But look, I’ve been through a blizzard when the heater was broken and a drunk guy tried to fight me over a five-cent dipping cup. And the monsters? I know what I can do. If God forbid one goes after me", he tapped his knuckles on the desk, "I can run. But I’m counting on you and your soldiers not to be heartless enough to just let it tear me apart, yeah?"

Cherion straightened his tunic, his expression settling into something surprisingly iron-willed. "I’m going. Not because I like the snow, and definitely not because I want to see you in armor, though that’s a decent perk, I guess, but because I’m the only one who can keep your heart beating when the curse tries to shut it down. You can’t fire me, Your Grace. I’m the only one on the shift who knows how to work the machine."

Zarius stared at him for a long, agonizing minute. He saw the resolve. It was stubborn, irritating, but it was there. He realized then that he could lock Cherion in the highest tower, and the man would probably just find a way to annoy the stones into letting him out.

"Fine," Zarius rasped.

The word seemed to change the very molecular structure of the room. The air grew heavy, the light dimmed as if the shadows themselves were preparing for war. Zarius reached out, his gloved hand hovering near Cherion’s neck for a second before he dropped it, his voice turning into a command that brooked no argument.

"Then you stay close to me. Not ten paces, not five. Close. Understood?"

Cherion offered a mock-salute, his grin returning with a vengeance. "Aye, aye, Captain. I’ll be your shadow. I won’t ever leave your side."

Zarius studied him for a long moment, his gaze cold and unyielding. His voice carried a quiet warning, almost a growl.

"I hope... you really know what you’re doing, Cherion."