Villain's Second Heart: Trapped in A Fantasy Novel (BL)-Chapter 2: At His Throat

"Wait wait wait I surrender I promise please don't kill meeeee!"

Ezra dropped to his knees and raised his hands in the air high above his bowed head. His assailant stopped in his tracks, lowering his weapon.

"What is this!?" he screamed. "Some kind of trick?" He held his sword to Ezra's throat, ready to strike.

"No, I swear!" Ezra begged. "I don't know where I am! I don't know anything! I was sent here -"

"Sent by who!?"

"The Storyteller! A skeleton lady! Have you heard of her?"

Silence.

Ezra blinked up at his would-be executioner, careful not to make eye contact.

The guy was shorter than expected - a slim, wiry build, muscles lean rather than bulky. Light cloth armor clung to his frame, sweat dripping from his forehead. A flash of golden hair, sharp amber eyes.

'A twink,' Ezra thought to himself. 'An evil twink trying to kill me.'

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but if you are cooperating, that's fine by me. Show me your mark."

Ezra eyed the man who stood over him.

"My what?"

"Don't play games with me, Harbinger."

The blond moved in a blur, suddenly inches from Ezra's face. His fingers snatched the front of Ezra's shirt and tore it clean off in one sharp motion.

Ezra yelped, jerking back.

"Dude!"

He barely had time to process his nakedness before his eyes dropped to his chest. A purple sigil pulsed just over his heart, glowing like something alive.

'Damn, I'm hot in this world!' Ezra realized. It was his first time seeing his new body 'in the flesh', and his abs were toned and firm, his chest wide and muscular. If the man above him was a twink, he guessed he's a twunk.

"Whoa."

"What are you playing at? You stupid or something?" the man snapped. He tried to put his hand on the sigil but the moment his fingers got too close -

ZAP.

The sigil crackled with violet energy, sending a jolt up his arm.

The blond hissed, snatching his hand back.

"Looks like I do have to kill you," the man said, raising his sword up again.

"Please!" Ezra wailed, his voice a shriek. "I'm from another world and I just woke up a few minutes ago! This body isn't mine! I can't die like this, I only JUST sold my soul!"

The swordsman hesitated inches from Ezra's neck, his blade quivering.

"From another world, huh?"

The silence lasts nearly an eternity. That statement resonated with the blond swordsman more than Ezra could ever know.

"So...who do you think you are?"

His voice was softer now. But deadlier.

It seemed that the man was willing to at least entertain Ezra's unbelievable tale.

Ezra took a shaky breath. "I... I'm Ezra."

The man tilted his head.

"Wrong."

He pointed his sword directly at Ezra's sigil.

"You are Alcor the Essencetapper. You steal magic and refine it in your own body. This proves it. You have a second heart."

"Okay," Ezra says, his arms still in the air. "I hear you. And, uh, is there anything I can do about that second heart where I don't leave here in a bodybag?"

"Bodybag?" the man frowned, unfamiliar with the lingo.

"Yeah. I would like to survive this tutorial quest, and I'm pretty sure I'm not a Regressor...damn Storyteller, she didn't even let me tell her everything I wanted!"

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The man sheathed his sword, staring at the shirtless Ezra kneeling pitifully on the ground before him. His eyes flickered for only a moment, noticing the anxious man's taut muscles. It was his first time seeing a human like that, so close. So...raw.

"You use strange words, Ezra. But I fail to see your deception. What's more, I don't sense any mana from you at all."

Ezra looked at him and smiled wide. "I couldn't hurt you even if I wanted to!" Ezra laughed. "I'm totally weak. But I could kick your ass in Smash, I bet."

The swordsman ignored the comment. "Be that as it may, I cannot let you go. As ludicrous as your story is, and even if I believe you - you're still a Harbinger. I need to turn you in. Your heart is the only thing that can free me."

"My...heart?"

Ezra's actual heart skipped a beat. He asked the Storyteller for exactly two things - to be someone who mattered, and to learn what it felt to love. And here was this beautiful man, asking for his heart...

"Yes. That Apocalypse Engine. I will take you to the capital Asteria where they will extract it from your chest and use it to pay my debt to the king."

"Oh..."

Ezra gulped. That sounded decidedly less romantic - and painful.

"And after that, you will likely live your life in prison. But for what it is worth, I shall personally request they send you to the nice one."

"Gee, thanks."

The blond's eye twitched - Ezra noticed a hint of anger in those beautiful, amber eyes.

"It's a better alternative to me striking you down here, isn't it?"

"It definitely gives me some time to think of a way out of this situation," Ezra smirked.

"Hmph."

Ezra blinked. Flirty? Or just cocky?

"So what's your name, big guy?" Ezra chuckled at the idea. This guy was 5'7 tops, and looked maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet - at least to Ezra's guesstimation.

"What does it matter? I'm just escorting you to royal custody."

"Well...you're the first person I've talked to in a while, if I'm being honest," Ezra said quietly. "And you didn't kill me, so you must be a nice guy. I want to know your name."

The man crossed his arms and leaned on one leg, sticking his hip out and pouting. "Oberyn."

"Oberon? Like the fairy king?"

"Oberyn. Like the guy who's taking you to prison. And who the heck says 'fairy' these days? We've been going by Nephilim for the past - wait, how did you know I was a Nephilim!?"

And suddenly, for the second time that day, Ezra had a sword at his throat.