Seeing the aftermath of what Kōin had done…
Guh.
Ji-ho exhaled sharply.
His gaze swept across the ruined courtyard.
Collapsed pillars.
Split trees.
Ground carved like a battlefield that had endured an army instead of a single disciple.
His lips twitched.
"…My cousin is going to have a blast cleaning this up."
He rubbed his face, still half laughing under his breath.
"Forget it. I'll handle the repair costs again."
Meanwhile—
Far away, within the imperial palace of Tiankui Star.
The Emperor of Tiankui sat idly on his throne, boredom written all over his face.
Too quiet.
Too stable.
Too peaceful.
He leaned back, lazily spinning a small jade token between his fingers.
An attendant rushed in and dropped to one knee.
"I greet the Great Emperor Star of Tiankui."
The emperor lifted a hand without even looking at him.
"Speak."
The attendant hesitated.
"Tiankui Tiger Sect… has been attacked."
Silence.
Then—
"Huh?"
The emperor blinked slowly.
"An idiot dares attack Lei Heng?"
He coughed lightly, as if correcting himself.
"My cousin Ji-ho. I mean."
The attendant swallowed hard.
"It is… complicated, Your Majesty."
The emperor narrowed his eyes.
"Explain properly."
The attendant bowed lower.
"It was a high class Ashura manifestation, Your Majesty."
The emperor's expression shifted instantly.
"…What."
"They say Great Hero Lei Heng was forced to release his own Ashura state."
For a moment—
The throne room went completely silent.
Then the emperor stood up.
Slowly.
The jade token in his hand shattered from pressure alone.
"…Prepare my carriage."
The air around him sharpened.
"Escort me to the Tiantui Star Sect."
Ji-ho tried to sit up properly, then immediately groaned.
His shoulder ached sharply.
Ribs still fractured beneath layered bandages wrapped tightly across his torso.
At least his back was mostly healed.
That fight had taken more than it gave.
Gains and losses.
That was always the balance.
He leaned back against the wooden support of the infirmary wall and exhaled slowly.
"…Tch."
Before he could rest even a little—
BAM.
The door slammed open.
Saikan rushed in, breath uneven.
"G Grandmaster!"
Ji-ho didn't even lift his head fully.
He already had a bad feeling.
"What now…"
Saikan swallowed hard.
"It's the Imperial Righteous Emperor."
Ji-ho blinked once.
"…Who?"
Saikan corrected himself quickly.
"The Emperor of Tiankui Star. He's here."
A long silence.
Ji-ho stared at the ceiling for a moment.
Then let out a tired laugh.
"…Seriously?"
He slowly covered his face with one hand.
"Not even a full day."
A pause.
Then he sighed deeply.
"At least give me two days before dragging imperial problems into my courtyard."
He pushed himself upright despite the pain, ribs protesting sharply.
"Where is he now?"
Saikan hesitated.
"At the sect entrance."
Ji-ho clicked his tongue.
Of course.
No waiting.
No respect for recovery.
Just imperial arrival energy.
He stood slowly, grabbing his coat despite the bandages.
"Alright…"
His voice turned flat.
"Let's go greet the emperor before he starts blaming me for the weather too."
Ji-ho stepped into the courtyard.
The damage was still visible behind him.
Cracked stone.
Broken pillars.
Disciples still clearing debris with tense silence.
Then the atmosphere shifted instantly.
Whispers spread like fire.
"Is that…?"
"No way…"
"Why is the Emperor here personally…"
Ji-ho stopped a few meters away from the visitor.
The man stood calm among the ruins, robes untouched by dust, presence heavy enough to silence the entire sect.
Ji-ho exhaled.
Then spoke plainly.
"Song Jiang."
The courtyard froze.
Every disciple went rigid.
That name was not supposed to be spoken so casually.
Only a handful of people in all of Aishia could say it without consequence.
Ji-ho was one of them.
The Emperor tilted his head slightly, then smiled.
"Its been a while."
His tone was light, almost nostalgic.
"Lei Heng."
Ji-ho rubbed his temple.
"…I don't go by that anymore."
The Emperor laughed softly.
"How could I forget?"
His gaze drifted over the ruined courtyard briefly.
Then back to Ji-ho.
"After you married into the Dihui Star line… you changed your name to Ji-ho."
A pause.
His voice softened slightly.
"Hu Senniang used to call you that too."
A brief silence settled.
Ji-ho's expression darkened.
"Don't bring her into this."
The Emperor's smile faded just a little.
"…Right."
The air tightened.
A history neither of them could escape lingered between them.
War.
The Water Margin era.
The 108 Stars of Aishia.
The heroes who ended one imperial war only for new ones to be born after.
Song Jiang stepped forward across the shattered courtyard stones.
"I heard you fought a demon again."
Ji-ho sighed.
"You heard wrong."
The Emperor glanced at the destruction.
"From the weather report, it looks like a storm passed through your sect."
A faint pause.
Then he added casually,
"You should come inside. Have tea. Warm your body."
But Ji-ho understood immediately.
This was not about tea.
This was a private conversation request.
No witnesses.
No interference.
Only two old war survivors speaking as cousins.
Ji-ho looked at him for a moment.
Then nodded once.
"Fine."
He turned slightly, voice low.
"But you're paying for the repairs."
The Emperor chuckled.
"As always."
And just like that—
Two figures who once changed the fate of an entire war walked toward the inner hall, leaving behind a sect still trying to comprehend what kind of night it had just survived.
The guest room of the Tiger Sect was quiet now.
Too quiet compared to the broken courtyard outside.
Warm tea sat between them, steam curling upward in slow spirals.
Ji-ho leaned back slightly, one arm resting against the table. Bandages still visible under his robe, faint signs of the earlier fight.
Yet his expression…
Was wrong in a familiar way.
Amused.
Amused like a man who had just survived something absurd and was still feeling the echo of it in his bones.
Jiang noticed immediately.
His cousin always looked like this after something serious.
The same face he wore after war.
After slaughter.
After impossible victories.
Jiang lifted his cup slightly.
"Tell me, cousin. Who is it?"
His tone was calm, almost casual.
Like they were still on a battlefield map table instead of a sect in ruins.
Ji-ho exhaled through his nose.
"Blood Demon Sect again?"
Ji-ho shook his head.
"Killed them with you."
Jiang nodded once.
"Right. Khanate Empire remnants?"
"No."
That made Jiang pause.
His eyebrow lifted slightly.
"…No?"
Silence stretched for a moment.
Then Ji-ho placed something on the table.
A white jade tiger.
Instantly Jiang's posture shifted.
Not fear.
Recognition.
That symbol meant only one thing.
This was not a casual conversation anymore.
This was sealed.
Serious.
Life altering.
Jiang leaned forward slightly.
"You have my word."
A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
"Even after you dragged in that abandoned illegitimate Heavenly Demon daughter into your sect, my mouth stayed shut."
A pause.
"That promise still holds."
Ji-ho sipped his tea slowly.
Then set it down.
His eyes flicked up.
"God must be worse, huh?"
Jiang went still.
The room lost its warmth for a moment.
"…."
For the first time since sitting down, Jiang did not immediately respond.
He studied Ji-ho's face.
The faint exhaustion.
The suppressed amusement.
The lingering tension under his calm exterior.
Then slowly—
"Ji-ho."
A quiet voice.
No humor now.
"What did you bring into your courtyard?"
Ji-ho let out a slow breath.
"Many of the other 108 were touched by it."
His voice was flat, like he was reading off a report from an old war that never truly ended.
Jiang gave a small nod, cup lifted calmly.
"The curse of destruction. I remember."
He took a sip.
"Everyone who survived that era carries a piece of it."
His eyes narrowed slightly, more thoughtful now.
"I know what Ashura feels like. At one point it was tethered to me too."
Ji-ho didn't respond immediately.
His fingers tapped lightly against the tea cup.
Then he spoke.
"The boy was only fourteen, Jiang."
Clink.
The cup in Jiang's hand paused mid air.
The temperature in the room felt like it dropped a few degrees.
Fourteen.
Not soldier age.
Not warrior age.
A child still forming a worldview.
Jiang slowly set the cup down.
"…How many did he kill?"
Silence.
Ji-ho didn't answer right away.
Then he shook his head once.
"Enough."
A pause.
"Enough to reach it."
Jiang's gaze sharpened.
"To reach Ashura?"
Ji-ho gave a dry, almost tired scoff.
"If only it were that simple."
He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees.
"Ashura is a state for people like me, Jiang."
A beat.
"But what I saw… wasn't just that."
His eyes drifted toward the tea, like the surface might show him something else.
"I was reminded of something I haven't thought about in a long time."
Jiang stayed silent.
Ji-ho continued.
"The Legend of the Demonic Oni Ashura."
Jiang blinked once.
"…That children's cautionary tale?"
He frowned.
"Why are you bringing up a story meant to scare recruits away from war?"
Ji-ho didn't look at him.
"Have you ever actually read it properly?"
A short pause.
Jiang's expression shifted slightly.
"Of course I have. It's just a myth about an overindulged killer demon used to discourage bloodlust—"
He stopped.
Mid sentence.
The realization hit him like a blade sliding into place.
His eyes narrowed.
"…Ashuramaru?"
Ji-ho finally looked up.
No amusement now.
Jiang's composure cracked for a moment.
"W- what…"
His grip tightened on the teacup so hard it almost chipped.
"A fourteen year old? An Ashuramaru?"
He immediately coughed once, forcing himself back into control.
"…Ahem."
He straightened his posture, voice lowering into something more careful.
"Ji-ho."
His tone shifted.
Not disbelief anymore.
Concern.
"But that state… that title… Ashuramaru is not real. It cannot be real."
He shook his head once, firm.
"Even the Blood Demon Sect Leader failed to reach anything close to it. No human, no matter how broken, reaches that level of complete indulgence without going insane first."
His eyes sharpened slightly.
"Let alone a child."
Ji-ho didn't answer immediately.
The silence stretched.
Then Ji-ho exhaled slowly.
"I wish I didn't know either, Jiang."
His fingers tightened around the cup.
"But I do."
A pause.
Then his voice dropped lower.
"What was done to that boy… it wasn't cultivation. It wasn't training. It wasn't survival."
His jaw tightened.
"It was forcing him into it."
Jiang's eyes narrowed.
Ji-ho continued.
"Forcing him into Ashura."
A heavier silence settled between them.
Ji-ho leaned forward slightly, forearms resting on his knees.
"A child, Jiang."
His voice cracked just a fraction.
"Just a child."
The words hung in the air like something too heavy to carry.
Outside the room, the sect continued repairing broken stone and shattered wood.
Inside—
Two men who had survived wars before
sat in silence
finally realizing they might have just witnessed something far worse than war itself.
"I can't believe it."
Jiang set the cup down harder than intended.
"How can a boy reach that state?"
His brows tightened, mind refusing to align the pieces.
Ji-ho didn't answer immediately.
His gaze drifted somewhere distant.
Back to the courtyard.
Back to the moonlight.
Back to the blood soaked silence.
"He was forced."
Jiang exhaled sharply.
"That still doesn't explain it."
His voice grew more controlled again, analytical.
"Ashuramaru is beyond ordinary Ashura manifestation. Even the Blood Demon Sect Leader never crossed that threshold. It is not something you just 'reach.'"
He leaned forward slightly.
"Then explain it properly."
Ji-ho's eyes lifted.
Calm.
Heavy.
Final.
"He didn't actually reach it."
A pause.
"He was forced into it."
Jiang frowned deeper.
"You said that already."
Ji-ho nodded once.
"As you know, Ashura is more potent in those who are naturally pure."
Jiang's expression tightened.
"Yes."
He responded slowly.
"Like the farmer story. The peaceful one. The curse reacts stronger the less accustomed the soul is to violence."
Ji-ho continued.
"The less evil committed in life… the more violently it manifests when triggered."
Silence followed.
Then Ji-ho's voice dropped lower.
"But what about a child, Jiang?"
A stillness.
"A child is the purest form of innocence."
Jiang didn't answer.
Ji-ho's fingers tightened slightly around the cup.
"How potent do you think Ashura becomes then?"
"…."
Jiang's eyes shifted.
Something in his expression finally changed.
Not confusion anymore.
Understanding.
Reluctant understanding.
"…That would mean…"
Ji-ho cut in.
"No."
A sharp breath.
"He didn't become Ashuramaru on his own."
His gaze hardened.
"He was engineered into it."
The room felt colder.
Jiang slowly leaned back.
"…That's impossible."
Ji-ho gave a quiet, humorless laugh.
"Is it?"
He looked down at his tea.
"I've seen wars, Jiang."
"I've seen what people do to survive them."
Then his voice sharpened slightly.
"What scares me isn't Ashuramaru."
A pause.
"It's what we did that made something like that possible."
Silence filled the guest room.
Outside, the sect still rebuilt broken stone.
Inside, two veterans sat in quiet realization.
Winning wars never ended them.
It only pushed the cost into smaller bodies.
Children.
Jiang let out a long breath, shoulders easing slightly as the weight of the conversation settled deeper into him.
"The Imperial War took too much from all of us."
His fingers traced the rim of the cup absentmindedly.
"Out of the 108… only thirty made it out alive."
A faint pause.
"Sometimes I wonder who we should even call fortunate anymore."
Ji-ho didn't respond right away.
Jiang continued, voice quieter now.
"And of those thirty… only fifteen still remain active."
He glanced toward the broken courtyard outside the window.
"I keep asking myself if we ever did the right thing at all."
Ji-ho finally spoke.
"Lei Heng."
The name cut through the air cleanly.
Jiang's expression tightened immediately.
Ji-ho's gaze didn't soften.
"The sins of our enemies are not ours to bear."
A silence followed.
Heavy.
Old.
Familiar.
Jiang closed his eyes briefly.
"…I want to believe that."
His voice lowered.
"But Hu Senniang's death…"
He stopped for a moment, jaw tightening.
"Even after their king fell… it didn't end anything."
That line hung in the air longer than anything else.
Ji-ho didn't interrupt.
Jiang opened his eyes again, staring into his tea like it might answer him.
No answer came.
For once, the Emperor had nothing to say.
Because some truths couldn't be spoken cleanly.
Only endured.
Jiang exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"Ji-ho… back to the boy."
His tone sharpened slightly, cutting through the heavier topic like a blade through cloth.
"Are you actually sure you can contain him?"
Ji-ho didn't hesitate.
"…Honestly?"
A pause.
"No."
Jiang let out a short breath through his nose.
"Thought so."
Ji-ho leaned back slightly, eyes drifting toward the cracked ceiling beams.
"But I promised him."
That made Jiang pause.
"…Promised?"
Ji-ho nodded once.
"That I'd help him control it."
Jiang clicked his tongue softly.
"Tame Ashuramaru?"
A dry laugh escaped him.
"That thing? Better to end it cleanly than pretend it can be domesticated."
He lifted his cup again, voice quieter now.
"You're talking about a disaster waiting to happen."
Ji-ho didn't deny it.
Instead—
"I know."
Silence.
Then Ji-ho continued.
"I know it's irrational."
His fingers tightened slightly.
"I know it's dangerous."
His gaze lowered.
"But I am an Ashura too, Jiang."
That line made Jiang go still.
Ji-ho's voice deepened slightly.
"And despite what's inside that boy…"
A pause.
"He still functions as a human being."
His eyes sharpened.
"Even with something like that inside him."
Jiang set his cup down slowly.
"…So that's your reason."
Ji-ho nodded.
"That boy has already suffered enough."
Jiang leaned back, staring at him.
"And if he loses control again?"
A long silence followed.
Ji-ho finally spoke.
"Then I'll handle it."
Jiang's eyes narrowed.
"That's not an answer."
Ji-ho didn't flinch.
"If it comes to it…"
A pause.
"I'll cut his limbs if I must."
The words landed heavy in the room.
Jiang's expression tightened.
Ji-ho continued, voice quieter now.
"And if I have to kill him…"
His gaze hardened.
"Then I will make sure at least the next life is free of it."
Jiang let out a slow breath.
"…Ashura doesn't carry over lives, Ji-ho."
Ji-ho gave a faint, tired smile.
"I wish that were true."
A brief silence.
Then he added quietly.
"That boy existing proves something I don't want to believe."
Jiang narrowed his eyes slightly.
"What do you mean by that?"
Ji-ho leaned back, exhaustion finally creeping into his posture.
"If he wakes up… I'll show you."
A pause.
"If he is still himself."
Jiang let out a low breath through his nose.
"…You want to bring an emperor into what might be the lair of a perfected god of destruction."
Ji-ho gave a dry look.
"You'll be surprised how young he is."
That made Jiang go quiet for a moment.
Then he scoffed lightly.
"Hah. Fine."
He took another sip of tea, slower this time.
"I guess I'll be sending you more scrolls again."
Ji-ho raised a brow.
"I always receive your scrolls."
Jiang's expression turned faintly annoyed.
"You only reply after I send the fourth one."
Ji-ho waved a hand lazily, like shooing away a persistent bird.
"Because the first three are usually nonsense."
Jiang clicked his tongue.
"Haish…"
A faint, almost nostalgic frustration crossed his face.
"You never changed, Lei Heng."
For a moment, the name didn't feel like a title or an insult.
Just history.
Then silence settled again between them.
War veterans drinking tea.
Talking like nothing in the world outside was currently breaking apart.
Jiang stood up first, adjusting his sleeves with calm precision.
"Leave the reconstruction to me."
His tone shifted slightly.
"But don't assume the other thirteen won't hear about this."
Ji-ho exhaled through his nose, already tired again just hearing it.
The two of them walked out of the guest room together.
Outside, the escort soldiers straightened instantly, tension returning as soon as the Emperor appeared.
The carriage waited at the sect gates, ornate and heavily guarded.
Jiang stopped briefly at the steps.
The Emperor climbed into the carriage with unhurried ease.
Before the door closed, he spoke casually.
"I'll cover the damage as per our agreement."
A pause.
"But you'd better not make this a habit."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"I don't want my taxes funding your reconstruction hobbies."
Ji-ho gave a faint wave.
"Yeah, yeah."
Then, with a lazy glance toward the carriage.
"Just make it lavish next time."
Jiang clicked his tongue.
"You leech."
The Emperor leaned back slightly inside the carriage, expression easing just a bit.
"Also…"
His voice lowered slightly.
"If the boy wakes up…"
A pause.
"Send a message."
The carriage door closed.
The escort moved instantly.
And the Emperor's voice faded as the carriage rolled away.
Ji-ho stood there for a moment watching it leave.
Then muttered under his breath.
"…Of course."
Behind him, the sect continued repairing itself.
As if nothing in the world had just shifted beneath it.
Ji-ho looked behind him.
The disciples still swept rubble from the courtyard.
Some carried broken wood.
Others repaired cracked stone using chi reinforcement.
The sect slowly breathed again after almost dying.
But—
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Where is Seol-an?"
Meanwhile.
Deep beneath the Tiger Sect.
Inside the underground chamber normally reserved for dangerous captives.
Cold stone walls.
Heavy talisman seals.
Iron chains reinforced with chi inscriptions.
Kōin sat restrained at the center.
Both wrists chained.
Torso wrapped with bindings stained faintly from dried blood.
His head lowered slightly.
Then he looked up at Seol-an crouching in front of him.
His crimson eyes looked softer now.
Almost pitiful.
"Seol-an…"
His voice came weakly.
"Can you release these chains? They hurt…"
A pause.
"Please."
Seol-an stared at him silently.
Then—
She tapped her own cheek lightly.
Once.
"Wrong."
Kōin blinked.
She narrowed her sapphire eyes.
"He calls me Senior Brother Seol-an."
Silence.
Her voice lowered colder.
"Stop pretending to be him, Shuraka."
The air in the chamber tightened.
"You're not even Kagemiya."
A faint pause.
"You're definitely not Yako."
CRANG!
The entire underground chamber shook as Kōin violently pulled against the chains.
"RELEASE ME YOU BASTARD!"
The voice was wrong.
Too unstable.
Too furious.
Nothing like the exhausted, restrained way Yako Kōin usually carried anger.
Seol-an only narrowed her eyes.
"Hmph."
She crouched closer calmly despite the violent rattling.
"I've never seen Kōin this angry before."
The chained boy snarled at her, crimson eyes burning wildly.
"If you want to mimic him…"
Seol-an's sapphire gaze sharpened.
"At least glare with hatred."
A pause.
"Not anger."
"ARGHHHHHH!!"
CRANG!
CRANG!
The shackles screamed against reinforced stone.
Blood started spilling from Kōin's wrists and forearms where the restraints dug deeper into flesh.
The chains were winning.
Barely.
Then—
SWP!
Seol-an's hand moved instantly.
She grabbed his jaw hard enough to force his face upward.
"Hurt this body again…"
Her voice dropped dangerously low.
"And I promise you."
The chamber grew colder.
"You'll receive treatment so horrible you'll wish you never possessed him."
The thing inside Kōin stilled slightly.
Just slightly.
Seol-an leaned closer.
"I may be a disciple."
A pause.
"But I am also Grandmaster Ji-ho's right hand."
Her eyes reflected no hesitation now.
"I know exactly how to break a demon."
Then colder—
"And you're only a Shuraka."
SWPCK!
"MHHHGH—!!"
Seol-an shoved cloth into Kōin's mouth before the thing could scream again.
The chained body thrashed violently.
CRANG!
CRANG!
CRANG!
The restraints rattled harder against the floor as blood continued dripping from torn skin.
Yet Seol-an never backed away once.
Hours passed beneath the Tiger Sect.
The underground chamber remained cold and dim, lit only by a few trembling lantern flames.
The chained body continued struggling occasionally, though weaker now.
The Shuraka was running out of time.
One of the Kōins would wake eventually.
Yako.
Or worse.
Kagemiya.
Either way, the thing possessing the body knew the truth.
Once that happened—
It would be crushed instantly.
Seol-an sat quietly nearby, one knee raised while resting her arm against it.
Watching.
Waiting.
Patient.
The chained body trembled violently again.
GRRRGHHHH…
CLANG.
CLANG.
The shackles dragged against stone.
Seol-an spoke calmly.
"That body has suffered more than enough."
Her sapphire eyes reflected the restrained figure.
"He killed more people than you ever will as a demon."
The Shuraka snarled through the cloth gag.
Seol-an tilted her head slightly.
"You're desperate."
A pause.
"That means one of the Kōins is suppressing you."
Another pause.
"Or…"
Her lips curved faintly.
"You're terrified of facing Kagemiya."
The body jerked violently.
CLANG!
CLANG!
Seol-an's smile widened just slightly.
"Hm. Maybe both."
She leaned back against the wall.
"No wonder Kōin is so resilient against Ashura."
"MMPPGHHH!!"
The restrained body thrashed harder.
Veins bulged beneath skin.
Crimson flickers danced inside those eyes.
Yet Seol-an remained completely unfazed.
"Shouldn't be much longer."
Her tone became softer now.
"I know he'll come back."
A small smile crossed her face.
"And apologize to me too."
A pause.
"Unlike you."
Her eyes narrowed.
"He's honest."
Another pause.
"Kind."
Then quieter.
"Strong."
The Shuraka glared murderously at her.
Seol-an only scoffed.
"A weak little demon controlling someone else's body while he's unconscious."
She clicked her tongue.
"What a pathetic trick."
Then—
She smiled.
A sharp smile.
A dangerous one.
The kind that made even the Shuraka recoil slightly despite itself.
After all—
She was still the illegitimate daughter of the Heavenly Demon.
"I was worried before."
Her voice lowered thoughtfully.
"What Ashuramaru really meant."
"The next stage of Ashura?"
She shook her head slowly.
"No…"
Her fingers tightened slightly against her sleeve.
"It's beyond that."
The memory surfaced again.
That sea of blood.
That pressure.
That impossible thing standing motionless within it.
Kagemiya.
The sensation of death sitting directly against her throat without touching her.
The way he moved before perception itself could catch up.
Her spine shivered involuntarily.
Yet she smiled faintly anyway.
"Seeing Kagemiya…"
A pause.
"I understand now."
Her sapphire eyes reflected the trembling lantern light.
"If someone becomes so desensitized to killing…"
"…then eventually Ashura stops being a corruption."
The chamber went silent.
"It becomes the person."
A faint breath escaped her.
"No."
Her eyes darkened slightly.
"The person becomes the demon itself."
The Shuraka froze.
Because even it understood the truth hidden behind those words.
Ashuramaru was not possession.
Not corruption.
Not madness.
It was evolution through slaughter.
"When he can even control the bloodlust…"
Seol-an's voice lowered into thought.
"It was nothing like the novels."
She slowly crossed her arms.
"Nothing like the poems either."
A faint shiver ran across her shoulders.
"A demon of destruction…"
Her eyes drifted toward the restrained body again.
"Hm."
"The legends of Ashuramaru called it the incarnation of the God of Destruction."
She let out a quiet scoff.
"How wrong they were."
The lantern light flickered softly across her face.
"They thought the demon evolved enough to become human."
A pause.
"No."
Her sapphire eyes sharpened.
"It's the human that evolves into the demon."
The chamber grew quiet again.
Seol-an exhaled softly, almost laughing under her breath in disbelief.
"Hah…"
"To witness a legend unfolding right in front of me…"
Then suddenly—
SMACK.
She slapped her own cheek sharply.
The chained body jolted violently in response.
"Hm?"
Seol-an blinked once.
Then sighed.
"…Sorry."
She rubbed her face lightly.
"My demonic side surged for a moment."
The restrained figure twitched again at the sensation.
Seol-an noticed immediately.
Her expression softened almost instantly.
"Kōin…"
She slowly reached forward.
Gentler this time.
Her fingers touched his cheek lightly.
The crimson eyes trembled.
For the briefest moment—
They looked human again.
Not enraged.
Not monstrous.
Just tired.
Kōin.
But only for a flicker.
A proxy.
A signal from somewhere deeper beneath the surface.
Then the pupils narrowed again.
Sharp.
Predatory.
Like a beast reopening its eyes.
Seol-an let out a slow breath and crouched down again in front of the restrained body.
He was still there.
Somewhere beneath all of this.
Still drowning in that sea.
…The sea.
Her fingers unconsciously gripped her own shoulder.
Heh.
She had already entered that nightmare twice.
What was wrong with a third time?
Her gaze hardened slightly.
Then she placed her palm against Kōin's chest.
Chi spread outward carefully.
Immediately—
"MMMPPRRGHHHHH!!!"
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
The body convulsed violently against the restraints.
The crimson eyes widened ferally.
But Seol-an ignored it.
She focused deeper.
Connecting herself directly to him.
To the sea beneath the soul.
Then—
Everything dropped away.
SPLASH.
Seol-an landed firmly on her feet.
Warm liquid surged around her ankles instantly.
Blood.
The scent of iron and ammonia struck her nose hard enough to sting.
Yet—
She frowned slightly.
"…Not as bad as before."
The sea stretched endlessly around her once more.
Crimson waves.
Dark skies.
Only this time—
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
The waves rolled gently instead of violently crashing.
No steel clashing.
No screaming.
No pressure tearing at her instincts.
Just silence.
Seol-an slowly looked around.
The blood soaked immediately into her clothes from the knees downward.
Ripples spread softly around her steps.
"…This is harder."
The violence at least gave direction before.
Now there was nothing.
No Kagemiya.
No Yako.
No sound.
Only an endless sea of red.
Seol-an clicked her tongue softly.
"Okay…"
She rubbed her forehead slightly.
"How am I supposed to find Kōin in this place?"