Right after Cheonma opened the Magyeong Gate and disappeared.

The woman hurriedly ran to support Gu Yangcheon.

"Gu Gongja...!"

He staggered and collapsed. The moment her hand touched him, Wi Seol-ah felt it immediately—the demonic energy surging through Gu Yangcheon’s body.

"No..."

Seeing this, she let out a sigh.

In the end, it had come to this.

She had so desperately hoped that Gu Yangcheon wouldn’t turn into a demon.

But Gu Yangcheon had finally become one.

She caught sight of his eyes.

Unlike his usual black or red irises, now Gu Yangcheon's eyes were a deep violet—an unmistakable symbol of demonification.

Seeing this, the woman began to cry without realizing it.

"No... no..."

Tears welled up at the corners of her eyes. It seemed as though a slight touch would make them fall.

At that moment, Gu Yangcheon moved.

He raised his hand, reaching towards the woman.

"Are... are you alright, Gu Gongja...?"

The woman called out to him in a hurry, but Gu Yangcheon simply stretched out his hand and caressed her cheek.

"Ah..."

"What are you crying for?"

His rough fingers brushed past the corner of her eyes, wiping away her tears.

"I'm fine, so stop crying. Anyone who sees us might think I'm dead."

"..."

As the woman bit her lips, Gu Yangcheon quietly watched her.

She, too, had withdrawn the white Qi she had been channeling into her body.

As the situation calmed down, an overwhelming feeling of unease crept over the woman.

It was because of the strange way Gu Yangcheon was looking at her.

He must be exhausted.

It must be the shock of facing Cheonma.

The woman tried to convince herself, but she soon realized the truth.

"Hey."

"...!"

"We need to talk, don’t we?"

At Gu Yangcheon’s words, the woman gasped.

What should she say? What should she do?

[Sister...]

Inside her, Wi Seol-ah’s voice called out, but now wasn’t the time to respond to it.

At that moment—

Sssssss.

"Gu... Gu Gongja?"

She began to sense a gradual change in Gu Yangcheon’s body. The woman anxiously tried to check him over, but her wrist was caught by his hand.

It seemed he didn’t want her to interfere.

The woman could see the flow of demonic energy. The demonic energy that coursed through Gu Yangcheon’s body was beginning to move.

Just as she wondered what kind of transformation this was—

"Sss..."

Gu Yangcheon exhaled heavily, as if the process was taxing him.

The change wasn’t only in the energy but in his physical appearance as well.

His jet-black hair began to show faint hints of red.

And his eyes were returning to their normal black.

"This is..."

In other words, his demonification was being undone.

But to the woman, this was impossible.

Once a person became a demon, they remained one until death.

The demonic energy that spread from a demon’s corpse was so foul that it lingered even after death.

Only at that point could one be freed from the demonic energy.

Yet now, Gu Yangcheon was undoing his demonification on his own.

How could this be possible?

While the woman stood there in astonishment, Gu Yangcheon, having fully gathered his energy, reopened his eyes.

"...Hoo."

"How...?"

Just as the woman was about to ask Gu Yangcheon why this was happening, she met his gaze and fell silent.

They locked eyes for what couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity.

Should she make excuses?

No, she should tell him it was all a misunderstanding.

That it wasn’t what he thought.

The woman thought about it over and over. She had anticipated a day like this would come, but...

Before this could happen, she had planned to disappear.

That way, for him...

"What should I call you?"

"...!"

"What should I call you?"

At Gu Yangcheon’s simple words, the woman looked like she was about to cry.

His tone was certain.

He was already sure.

"...Ah... ugh..."

"You’ve never been the type to lose your words. Why are you suddenly broken?"

"That’s...!"

"That’s enough. There’s a lot I want to ask, but I’ll start with the important one first."

Where should she begin? How much could she tell him?

What would he ask?

Would he ask why this was happening?

Why hadn’t she told him?

Or maybe—

Why had she killed him?

Was she satisfied with how things turned out?

Did she even realize what he had done for her?

Would he unleash all his resentment?

Just imagining it made it hard to breathe. Her hands started trembling, but the woman forced herself to stay composed.

He had every right to say those things.

She had been running away just to avoid hearing them.

"Still."

At the sound of his voice, the woman tightly shut her eyes.

And then—

"Do you still hate me?"

Gu Yangcheon’s voice reached her.

What did he just say?

Did she hear wrong?

The woman slowly opened her eyes.

Her expression, as she processed his words, was one of utter confusion.

She looked into Gu Yangcheon’s eyes.

"What... what do you mean?"

"I mean, you must’ve hated me a lot to follow me all this way. Can’t you forgive me already? I tried my best, you know."

He scratched the back of his head, as if embarrassed.

The woman was at a loss for words.

Those kinds of words...

"What are you saying? You... you shouldn’t be asking me that."

"Hm?"

Her shoulders shook, and finally, tears fell.

"You should be cursing me... calling me a wretched woman, blaming me... Why... why are you asking me that?"

"What are you talking about? Why would I curse you? Is that what you’re into?"

"I...!"

"Ah, stop crying and just answer my question. This is really frustrating."

Gu Yangcheon, unable to bear it anymore, cut off the woman’s words.

And he asked her the same question once again.

"Do you still hate me?"

"..."

Her wrist was still held firmly in his grasp.

After claiming he had so much to ask, the first thing he chose to ask was something like this.

When he had every reason to resent her, to rage at her, to even beat her to death.

And yet, the question he asked was that.

Perhaps he was subtly cursing her after all.

But Gu Yangcheon’s eyes were the same as always.

The eyes she had longed to see again.

Staring into them, the woman finally gave her answer.

"No..."

Her voice was strained, as if forcing the words out, shaky with emotion.

But it wasn’t a lie.

Maybe she hadn’t known at first.

Maybe back then, she had hated him.

Perhaps she had, considering how they first met.

But at least by the time she faced death, the feelings she held toward him were not hatred.

"I don’t hate you... I didn’t hate you."

Her trembling voice uttered the words.

Upon hearing them, Gu Yangcheon loosened his grip on her wrist.

"That’s a relief."

And he smiled.

The very first thing he had asked her was that.

And hearing her answer, he smiled as if it had made all the difference.

That smile made the woman’s heart feel as though it had dropped.

"..."

A thought filled her mind.

She wanted to hold him.

Looking at him now, memories surfaced. The first and last time she had held him.

That day, when she had cradled his bleeding, dying body.

It wasn’t the same as clutching his cold, lifeless form as she had wept over him before.

Now, she wanted to hold him.

Did she even deserve to?

No, she didn’t have the right.

But even so.

Even so, she wanted to hold him, just this once.

Even knowing it was selfish.

The woman moved as if entranced.

Gu Yangcheon, noticing her actions, looked puzzled.

"...Couldn’t you help me out a bit here?"

She froze.

A voice called out from behind them.

"Watching is all well and good, but things are a bit urgent on this end."

When Gu Yangcheon turned to see the source of the voice, he found Bieui-jin drenched in sweat.

"Huh?"

"...Ah."

Both of them had completely forgotten about him.

  
   
   ******************
   
   

Crack.

Amid the thick smoke rising, there stood a red coffin at the center. As the ominous coffin creaked open, someone carefully lifted themselves out.

Crack, crack.

Each slight movement echoed with the sound of cracking bones.

The person who had risen from the coffin moved their body, seemingly unfamiliar with it, repeating small gestures several times.

Crack, crack.

With each movement, the sounds gradually diminished, until finally, they stopped altogether.

By the time the sounds ceased completely, the figure emerged from the smoke and began walking away from the coffin.

Upon seeing this, the dancer hurriedly approached and knelt.

"Are you alright? Is there any discomfort?"

The figure, inspecting their body at the dancer’s words, responded.

"This worthless body will do just fine."

"I’m sorry."

"There’s no need for you to apologize. After all, there is only one body that would truly satisfy me."

He chuckled.

As the smoke cleared, the identity of the voice’s owner became visible.

The figure, who was checking their body while sweeping their hair back, was surprisingly Jang Seon-yeon.

No, that wasn’t right.

He was not Jang Seon-yeon.

He merely wore the mask, but he was far beyond such a primitive being.

Gone were the eyes that Jang Seon-yeon once had. Now, crimson red eyes stared back.

One cheek bore a rough, reptilian texture.

Noticing this, he brushed his hand over his cheek, and the remnants vanished.

He blinked several times, and with each blink, the red eyes reverted to the eyes Jang Seon-yeon once had.

He then asked the dancer.

"Dancer."

"Yes..."

"Have you conveyed my message as I instructed?"

"Yes. I have informed the faction leader and the head of the alliance."

Swish.

Jang Seon-yeon—or rather, the Blood Demon (혈마)—slowly walked forward, donning the clothes that the dancer had prepared in advance.

"It’s been a long time since I walked on my own feet. Quite nostalgic."

A smile spread across his face as if enjoying the moment.

How many years had it been? Likely hundreds.

It didn’t feel like much time had passed, though.

Or perhaps, because he had never paid much attention to the flow of time, it didn’t feel real to him.

"...Master."

The Blood Demon turned around at the sudden voice of the dancer.

"Yes."

"May I dare to ask a question?"

What could she be asking?

The Blood Demon looked down at her with an amused expression.

It was a sign of permission.

"What brings you to act directly at this time? I wish to know the reason."

"The reason."

The Blood Demon stroked an imaginary beard in response to the question. Though the gesture was a bit comical, the dancer didn’t laugh.

"If I were to name a reason, it’s simply because the time has come."

"The time you’ve been waiting for?"

"Yes."

In the distant past, the Blood Demon had been sealed.

Though the world believes he had been slain, the truth is different.

He wasn’t killed; he was sealed.

Unable to kill him, they had decided to seal him, ensuring he would never be revived.

Do you know how intricate and powerful the sealing formation had to be to imprison even one Blood Demon?

Not only had they separated his body and energy, scattering them to the heavens, but they had also ripped apart the sensory perceptions woven into his soul, ensuring they could never be reassembled.

They left his soul hollow, trapping it beneath layers of formations so strong that, under normal circumstances, the seal should have lasted not just for centuries but much longer.

Yet, the Blood Demon broke free less than a hundred years after the end of the Blood Demon War.

Contrary to their expectations that the seal would last for centuries, it hadn’t even lasted a century.

It was laughable, really, and the Blood Demon had anticipated it.

It was impossible to confine him with formations created by mere humans.

A hundred years. Even that was quite an achievement.

However, while he had been freed from the seal, his body, energy, and senses had not yet returned.

But there was no need for concern.

Eventually, they would return, as all things do.

The flow of the world would ensure it.

All the Blood Demon had to do was wait.

And so, time passed, and the moment arrived.

The scattered fragments of the Blood Demon’s being slowly began to return, transcending the flow of time.

"I didn’t expect the fragments to mix with other souls, but it’s not a bad outcome."

The Blood Demon’s senses, lost for so long in the flow of reincarnation, had finally gathered.

Was this too predetermined by fate?

The thought made him laugh.

A figure briefly flickered in his mind—a man with golden hair.

"Didn’t I tell you? It was all for nothing."

He remembered the back of that pitiful man who had stubbornly continued forward, ignoring his warnings.

Look now. In the end, the flow has returned to its predetermined course.

"There may be some minor disturbances, but they are no more than insignificant struggles."

Splash.

He stepped across the damp floor, and the dancer followed behind him.

"Yes, you asked why I act now."

"Yes."

"The world is urging me."

"...The world, you say?"

Those who held the Blood Demon’s senses had been born into this world. From the moment they were born, he had felt them.

Each and every one of his lost senses.

Do you think this is mere coincidence?

No, it couldn’t be.

The fragments that should have emerged alongside his revival hadn’t been born at that time.

They had been postponed. The time wasn’t right yet.

And so, after hundreds of years, they were all released at once.

"Heh heh."

The Blood Demon laughed.

It was so obvious it was laughable.

The Blood Demon looked up.

Though they were underground, his eyes saw beyond the ceiling.

Beyond the sky that stretched far above.

"Are you that afraid?"

A cold breeze swept through suddenly.

"What’s so terrifying? This is so much fun."

The Blood Demon smiled faintly at the one who wouldn’t answer, then turned his gaze back to the dancer.

She averted her eyes, lowering her head to avoid his gaze.

Though her face was concealed, the Blood Demon could see her features clearly.

Looking at her, he spoke.

"It seems your sisters have met."

"...!"

The dancer's shoulders trembled at the mention of her sisters.

She had to suppress the emotion bubbling within her—jealousy.

As she bit her lip to stifle her feelings, the Blood Demon tilted his head.

"What makes you so angry?"

"N-no, it’s nothing. How could I be...?"

Seeing the dancer’s reaction, the Blood Demon thought.

A pitiable creature.

Unlike the others who possessed his body and energy, this dancer only carried a few of his scales.

Jealousy, such a narrow-minded emotion, yet the Blood Demon did not fault her.

He stared at her for a moment longer, then turned his gaze toward the exit.

"Right now, I just want to feel the breeze."

Normally, he would have stayed here longer.

But something unexpected had caught the Blood Demon’s attention.

Though the flow remained unchanged, there was something disrupting it ever so slightly.

"How curious."

An anomaly had appeared in the unchangeable story.

Something that Yeonilcheon had longed for but never achieved.

The Blood Demon briefly recalled a fierce-looking figure.

An odd one, indeed.

Not only did they carry something terrifying within them, but they were also only half-human.

Furthermore, they bore several scars from the otherworld.

Carrying so many scars in one body should have consumed their soul long ago, and yet they lived, breathing just fine.

And the most amusing part was that the person didn’t seem to realize their own state.

If that wasn’t an anomaly, what was?

Confirming that what he had long hoped for existed in the world, the Blood Demon, feeling exhilarated, couldn’t help but take a step forward.

"This time, I’ll see it for myself."

Excitement swelled within him.

"I’ll gather everything I’ve scattered."

Including his senses.

The Blood Demon was on a quest to reclaim his body and energy.