Soren was roused by the warm morning sunlight filtering through the window.
The moment his consciousness returned, he only felt his entire body still filled with a lingering soreness and weakness, as if all his strength had been drained, making even the motion of raising his hand to rub his eyes a beat too slow.
He sat up blankly, the blanket slipping from his shoulders.
The exposed skin still retained the residual warmth from when the two of them had pressed close to him the night before.
The empty bed held only him.
The spots beside him still bore faint indentations; on the pillow, a faint scent of pine needles from Jean seemed to linger, while the side behind him where Barbara usually rested carried a hint of sweet floral fragrance; both spots were already vacant.
“Where are they?”
Soren murmured, his voice carrying the hoarseness of someone who had just woken up.
He propped himself up on the mattress to steady himself, his gaze sweeping over every corner of the room: the doors of the carved wardrobe were shut, the padded chair by the window was empty, and even the small table Barbara usually used for her sheet music now held only an upside-down teacup.
He secretly guessed in his heart that perhaps Mondstadt’s affairs had tied them down, or maybe Barbara had to go to the cathedral to help, which was why they had left so early.
Just as he was thinking this, a sudden, scalding heat surged from his abdomen, like a small fire burning beneath his skin, sending a fine, tingling numbness through every bone and limb in his body.
Soren’s heart tightened.
He subconsciously reached down to pull up his loose hemline and looked down, only to see a pattern glowing; the kind of crest you only ever see in doujins and H-games.
“No way…”
Soren’s breath hitched.
He gently touched the burning crest with his fingertips; the texture was smooth, as if it had been born on his skin.
He could still deceive himself into thinking the occasional heat from before was just an illusion, but this clear pattern and scalding temperature now forced him to accept reality.
“It seems my race really is an incubus…”
Staring at the faint glow, a trace of panic flickered through his heart, but he quickly forced himself to calm down.
He suddenly remembered that in Teyvat, there had never been a concept of an “incubus.”
Whether it was the gods of Mondstadt, the adepti of Liyue, or the youkai of Inazuma, none of them had any relation to this race.
“Fortunately, the concept of an incubus doesn’t exist in Teyvat.”
Soren let out a sigh of relief, his tense shoulders dropping slightly.
He reached down to lower his hemline, covering the burning pattern, his fingertips still carrying its lingering warmth.
As long as Jean and Barbara didn’t discover this secret, he shouldn’t end up as their sex slave.
As for the sudden fever yesterday, it was probably due to his racial traits.
Soren sat on the edge of the bed, his fingertips unconsciously grasping his hemline, smoothing out the creases bit by bit–his movements hid an undeniable panic; every touch of the fabric felt like he was trying to steel his own courage.
He took a deep breath and slowly stood up, pushing off the mattress, but the moment his feet touched the floor, his legs shook uncontrollably.
His knees buckled, sending him stumbling toward the wardrobe next to him.
Fortunately, he managed to grab the corner of the wardrobe in time to steady himself.
The cold touch of the wardrobe against his palm cleared his hazy mind a bit.
I can’t…
I have to leave this place.
If I stay any longer, there’s no telling how long they’ll keep me trapped.
The thought was like a thorn pricking his heart.
The suffocating feeling of being confined by the two of them welled up again, making his breathing turn shallow and rapid.
After managing to drag himself to the door with great difficulty, he eagerly reached out and gripped the doorknob, his knuckles turning white from the exertion.
He twisted his wrist forcefully.
But the doorknob didn’t budge.
Only the empty clicking sound of the lock mechanism echoed from inside, clearly indicating it was locked from the outside.
“No way…”
Soren’s voice trembled, carrying an air of disbelief and anger.
He raised his foot and kicked the door hard.
A dull thud echoed through the room, making his toes go numb, yet the door remained firmly shut, without letting even a single sliver of light through.
After the anger passed, panic took over once more.
He looked around, his gaze darting quickly across the room before finally landing on the window; the only place in the room that hadn’t been “sealed off.”
The window was wide open, and the morning breeze blew in, carrying the scent of Mondstadt’s wind.
The curtains swayed gently, as if tempting him to come closer.
Soren leaned against the wall and shuffled over to the window, sticking his head out to take a look.
This was the second floor, a decent height from the ground.
Below was a cobblestone courtyard; if he fell, it would hurt like hell for quite some time at the very least.
Even so, he grit his teeth, with only the thought of “escape” remaining in his mind.
If I remember correctly, this body of mine is pretty tough.
When I was practicing swordsmanship before, I fell from even higher places and was fine.
Even if this is a bit high, it shouldn’t kill me…
It’s still better than being trapped here by them.
He reached out to grab the window frame, his fingertips trembling from nervousness.
Though his legs were still weak, his determination to escape forced him to stand straight.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped one foot out of the window first, planting it on the edge of the sill, preparing to take a gamble and jump before the two of them returned.
I don’t want to just fall into degeneracy like this.
With this thought in mind, he closed his eyes and jumped straight down.