The Witch's Son Is Just Trying to Survive

[Comments on paragraphs are enabled, with no restrictions] The witch hunt lasted a hundred years. People called witches "bewitching monsters who used evil arts to harm others," and nearly wiped out their entire race. As the son of a witch, Samuel could not escape their fate. "The starting price for a witch's purple eyes is ten thousand gold coins. A shame his bloodline is impure, and his right eye is ordinary... Perhaps 'rare male witch' would make a good selling point." Samuel was chained up in a cellar. At daybreak, he was to be sent to an auction. But that very night, the despicable merchant was killed first by an unexpected visitor's sword. - "Bounty collected, payment in hand... Hm? What's this... a little slave?" The tall man strode over the bloodstained carpet and cut the chain around Samuel's neck with his sword. "Rare purple eyes... But you're not on my employer's list. Get going." Everyone hated witches, but the man before him was different. Samuel had had enough of a life spent hiding. He gathered his courage and asked the man for protection. The man happened to need a capable assistant to qualify for higher-level assignments and earn more bounties. - Half a month later, the assistant qualification exam was held. Everyone was armed to the teeth, either carrying a greatsword or holding a wand. Only Samuel stood anxiously with the little dagger the man had given him. His bloodline was impure, and even his sex didn't fit the mold. The only thing about Samuel that could be connected to witches was his androgynous beauty. He had never cast a spell, let alone brewed potions or practiced divination. He had to survive two days in a dangerous mountain wilderness. It seemed the only thing he could do was find somewhere to hide and stay alive. - No one had told Samuel there was a dragon's lair here, or that waking the sleeping dragon would bring certain death. While fleeing terrifying monsters, he stumbled into a warm, dry cave. Before he could even light a fire, a pair of golden, slit-pupiled eyes lit up in the darkness. The next second, a massive claw pinned his cloak to the ground. The dragon's roar deafened him, and its scorching breath left him gasping... That night, everyone knew someone had overestimated himself and gone to the dragon's lair to die. - At sunrise the next morning, Samuel arrived at the registration desk with all four limbs intact. The registrar's eyes widened. "Where did you get those dragon scales?" "I..." Samuel nervously rubbed his nose. He decided to hide the fact that the dragon had been as docile as a kitten around him. He had no idea why, after all. "I found them." Do dragons judge by looks too? - A down-on-his-luck beauty who tops × a loyal, straightforward bottom Reading guide: Both are sexually inexperienced. The younger one is the bottom, about four or five years younger. There is a height and build difference, and the bottom pampers the top. The top is weak, soft, and sensitive, with a desperate need for love, but he's working hard to grow. The bottom is a good man with an exceptionally steady temperament. The more he loves, the more restrained he becomes, but if he really loses the person he loves, he can break down and go mad. The bottom has a rival in love. Watch an honest man take on a pervert in a muscle-bound tug-of-war over a man. The dragon isn't the bottom. They're a family of three (not really). Slow burn, with lots of original worldbuilding. Readers who are fiercely attached to either the top or bottom should proceed with caution. Both of them matter. Theme: There are actually many people in this world who love you