14 Dylan – Path of Light and Darkness (pt.1)

I might have gone overboard rocking Cordelia's realm.

When my dad and the raven lady got back home at exactly five in the afternoon, Cordelia could barely stand on her own feet to entertain them in the living room. Rhea made her sit on one of the couches and told her to refrain from moving around. I'd told Cordelia the same advice before we answered the door, but she remained stubborn.

"I-I need to prepare tonight's dinner. Lord D-Dylan hasn't eaten a-anything for lunch!" Cordelia got up and tried to walk again, but she looked like a frail grandma holding a cane. "I-I must . . . endure . . ."

"Oh my goodness gracious! Don't be such a stone head, Cordelia!" Rhea forced her back down the couch. "Let your sore coochie recover, my dear! Let me handle the cooking, alright?"

Cordelia got teary-eyed. "But I cannot allow you to cook on my behalf. It is my duty as Lord Dylan's slave to serve him. It feels like I've failed him if I . . ."

"You worry too much, my dear. It's the least I can do! Consider this as my thanks for saving my life." Rhea winked playfully. "I'm pretty sure that Lord Dylan won't let you do the cooking. Isn't he a sweetheart just as you described?"

"You need to rest, Cordelia," I said, sitting on the opposite couch. "What kind of lord am I if I ignore my slave's well-being? If it makes you feel any better, I've already failed as a lord."

My reckless actions at the observation deck played in my head. Then, our steamy dancing inside my bedroom. Her full breasts were big and bouncy and . . . her moans . . . her moans were irresistibly cute and messy. I'd listen to her moans in my forbidden playlist and put her on repeat.

Ah, damn it. Don't go putting up another tent in your pants, Dylan. Think innocent!

"I made you worry and . . . did that to you," I said, with a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry for going rough. You were too . . . delicious."

"D-Delicious?" Cordelia cupped her blushing face. "Lord Dylan thinks so?"

"Yes." Honesty is the best policy.

"On a scale of one to ten, how beastly did he ravish you on his bed?" Rhea teased. "Did he go down?"

"Rhea!" Cordelia screamed and clamped the raven's mouth. "Don't say such inappropriate words!"

Rhea removed Cordelia's hand from her mouth while giggling. "I'm just teasing you, my dear!"

"We are not inside a brothel!"

"Alright, alright! I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

The raven lady bowed to my dad, then to me, before she went to cook in the kitchen. Cordelia sat back and released a huge sigh of relief. I buried my overheating face in my hand while my dad . . . obnoxiously congratulated me.

"Ba-ha-ha-ha! That's my son! I knew you had it in you!" He was seated beside me, repeatedly nudging my arm. "So how was it? You feel good as new, right? You feel stronger now, don't you? Food is life, but sex is lifer!"

Lifer? I groaned and pulled my hoodie jacket over my nose. "Dad . . . can we not talk about it? I feel uncomfortable."

Sex isn't something that people can openly talk about in Terra. At least—that's what I wanted to say.

"Dylan, you must get used to it as a Lust Primordial. It's how we function. There's no escaping it." Dad got serious. He turned to me and raised three fingers. "Did you know that sex keeps our sanity intact and helps us increase our physical and magical power?"

"What? You serious?" I pulled my hoodie jacket down. "Like experience points?"

"Now that made you talk, huh? Your thirst for knowledge is showing!" Dad chortled like a madman. I glared at him for taking the bait. "Let's call it the Sex-perience Points!"

I grimaced. "Did you just invent that?"

"Witty, no?" He stretched a smile. "Needless to say, if you refuse to feed on women for a long period, you will lose your sanity." He shifted his weight on the couch. "Last time, I got careless with my kingly schedule. My lack of sexual energy drove me to hunt for sex and that was how I met your mom—"

"Thanks, Dad! You don't need to remind me," I said, covering my ears. "I don't want to hear your full sex story. Spare me this one."

"Ah . . . you really seem like an entirely different person when you're not performing on stage." He cupped his chin and leaned closer to me, squinting his eyes. "Where is that devilishly mesmerizing side? I want to see that fierce presence and sexy image of yours! Oozing with dark confidence! Such a phenomenal artist!"

"You've watched me perform?" I'd always felt that he was everywhere since I was a kid. Does that mean . . . "Have you been stalking me in Terra all this time?"

"You think I'm outdated? I know all about you!" Dad crossed his arms and held his nose high. "And I've watched every music video released by your agency!" He nodded. "All of them highlighted the sexiness of your eyes, lips, neck, chest, fingers, and—"

"Stop!" I yelled, smacking his face with a cushion. "Don't go down! I can read your dirty mind!"

On a serious note, he wasn't lying. I'm aware of my erogenous zones which were intentionally shot to attract the ladies (and men bending the other way). As a result, multiple brands often fight over me just to become their brand ambassador or brand spokesperson.

Some of you may ask: Even men's underwear? No. Hard pass. I'm a conservative man.

Dad removed the cushion from his face, then he frowned. "Dylan, you wound me!" He clutched onto his chest like a dramatic king. "Is a loving parent not allowed to show his full support to his handsome son? I've neglected you for years—"

"But not to embarrass me!"

"Um . . . pardon me for interrupting your father and son moment, Lord Asmodeus!" Cordelia raised her soft-spoken voice, and we looked at her at the same time. "I've thought of a theory regarding Lord Dylan's powers and abilities."

My dad looked disappointed. Disappointed because we jumped to a more serious and relevant topic. He fixed his posture and said, "Let us hear your thoughts."

Cordelia eyed me. "Lord Dylan? May I ask . . . did you ever trained for self-defense? When the Ripper Dragon attacked you . . . you were able to dodge him."

"Huh?" I blinked. Naturally, I'd dodge an aggressive person who was ready to attack at any moment, right? Common in solo or group fights. "Luck and fast reflexes, I guess?"

"Ah!" Dad pounded a fist to his palm. "I beg to disagree," he said, turning to me. "When you were in high school . . . you got yourself involved in a physical fight, am I correct?"

I narrowed my eyes. "How did you know that?"

"Stalker Dad." He winked.

I sighed. Why did I even ask?

"Is that true, Lord Dylan?" Cordelia leaned forward. "Could you tell me what happened? I suspect that your enhanced strength may not be your first power but your enhanced speed. Please describe your emotions at that moment."

"Emotions?"

"Emotion is the key to unlocking your powers and abilities," Cordelia explained. "The stronger your feelings, the stronger you will become. Since Lord Dylan's race is centered on lust and desire, you must have strongly and desperately wished for agility. Agility is common to primordials."

"Oh!" Dad snapped his fingers. "That is a good theory! Why did I not think of that?"

I raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were there?"

"Too many students were blocking my view." He thrust out his hands to the sides. "Sitting in a tree isn't an ideal front-row seat, more so by teleporting inside the school building. It's a terrible idea! I'd summon the religious brigade spraying me with holy water!"

Dad can teleport? And . . .

"H-Holy water?" I widened my eyes. "Holy objects and churches . . . will burn us?"

"Burn and die," he corrected. "Demons don't go to heaven or hell. We'll be . . . reincarnated as a different race. Just no memories of the past. Clean slate."

"Oh. That's better than being dead forever."

I'm beginning to understand Mom's paranoia over restricting me from attending a church service and holding and owning anything holy-related inside the house. If I didn't listen to her, I would have died . . . and then I'd get reincarnated. Best to keep my distance from holy things in this realm, including potential foes ready to kill me with holy weapons or skills. I wonder if I'd encounter an angel roaming around in Zemoria?

"With that possibility out, it's no wonder you always win in running competitions in school and in variety shows." Dad hummed in thought.

I stared at him in disbelief. Another revelation from the stalker.

"But we shouldn't rule out the possibility that it is your normal human speed," he added, then he smiled at me. "Anyway, tell us your fight scene story!"

"Ah . . . let's see." I cupped my chin. "I was a sophomore when I protected a male classmate from getting bullied by two male students. They were both seniors."

It happened before our first period in class. I was seated by the window of our classroom, composing my first R&B Rap song when a female classmate of mine called everyone's attention. Gossiping about others isn't my hobby. But when our female class president told me that two senior students were demanding our classmate's lunch money, I quickly left my chair.

"That's terrible." Cordelia covered her mouth, then she put her hand down. "But why did the class president come to ask for Lord Dylan's aid?"

"I was part of the student council's disciplinary committee," I said, with closed eyes while rubbing my temple. "Even if I wasn't part of it, I'd take action if I see someone in need."

Suddenly, I could hear my mom's cheerful voice lecturing me in my head. Every time I left for school, she'd say: Dylan, if you have the power to help others in need, do it. But it's perfectly okay if you're powerless in certain situations. That can't be helped, alright? Be a good boy in school and make me proud!

Come to think of it, Mom had always known I was a primordial. She didn't want me to grow up like a true primordial. What if my dark side began showing without me noticing? But that demonic voice . . . was crystal clear.

"Mrs. Belmont raised such an amazing son!" Cordelia's cheery voice snapped me out.

"How about me? I watched Dylan grow—"

"You weren't physically there," I said in a dry tone.

Dad clutched onto his chest, again. "Super effective damage . . . ."

I shook my head and continued, "After I squeezed my way out of the classroom, I confronted the bullies, and they hated it." I folded my arms, laid back on the couch, and man-crossed my leg. "Long story short, as anticipated, one of them tried to punch me in the face but I dodged it. A fight broke out and I ended up fracturing their fingers."

Cordelia gasped. Dad was looking proud.

"As for my emotions . . ." I scowled and punched my hand. "I felt anger and this strong desire to end the fight in five minutes."

"There it is! Now that proves our theory!" Dad smiled from ear to ear. "Judging by your story and my relentless stalking, your speed is still slow for a primordial. But with proper training, you can jump on top of houses and buildings without breaking a sweat!"

I gulped. "Ah . . . I'll stick to the ground first."

"Lord Dylan is truly admirable." Cordelia wiped her fake tears. "It is an honor to be training such a unique primordial!"

"I'm not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing." I laughed awkwardly.

Good thing because I'm walking the path of light. Bad thing because I'm going against my true nature: walking the path of darkness.