In the dark forest, smoke rose, thick with the acrid smell of burning flesh.

“Haaa…! Ughhh! Ahhh!”

An unknown man screamed over and over, his body engulfed in flames, burning his flesh alive.

“Please… pleaseeee!”

He pleaded desperately with the person gripping his neck, but his captor only stared at him with the same cold eyes as before. Though expressionless, the young man’s eyes were glowing red, like burning embers.

As the moonlight quietly broke through, it illuminated the forest floor, revealing a dark, blood-soaked ground.

“…Urgh… Ugh…”

The man who had been consumed by flames continued to scream until his voice gradually quieted. Finally, he fell silent, dead.

Thud.

The young man, who had been watching in silence, released the man’s body, allowing it to collapse to the ground. The ghostly flames that had been clinging to the man disappeared without a trace.

Huff… huff…

A witness nearby, covering his mouth in shock, stared in horror. The leader of their group, a man who had reached the peak of his martial arts after passing his forties, was now dead. He had been respected even by their captain, yet he had been killed without effort by this young man, who seemed no older than his twenties.

‘What… what the hell is this?’

The man, still covering his mouth, couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. The bodies behind their leader were in the same condition.

The first one they had captured was reduced to ashes, while the others lay dead with their necks twisted.

Their leader, too, was no different.

‘A monster… That’s a monster.’

The man trembled as he slowly tried to back away, only to find his retreat blocked by a tree.

Pant… pant…

His mind was already overwhelmed by the fear of death. Was he going to die too? Was this really the end?

Tears began to stream down his face, driven by the terror that consumed him. He couldn’t run away; his legs had already been shattered by that monster’s hand.

Rustle.

The monster crouched down, its body still wreathed in flames.

To the man, the flames seemed only one thing.

‘Cruel.’

There was no warmth or divine radiance in the fire—just emptiness.

It was precisely that emptiness that terrified him.

How could fire feel so devoid of anything?

No, not completely devoid.

‘...Murderous intent.’

The fire was filled with murderous intent. Was everything about this monster concentrated in those flames? Was that why nothing else could be sensed from him?

How much killing intent did one need to be like this?

‘Fire…? If it’s fire…’

Suddenly, a rumor crossed the man’s mind.

There was a martial artist currently famous for using fire in the central plains. A young warrior who had earned a new title after defending against a demonic invasion, showing no mercy toward those of the dark faction.

That title was—

“So-yeom…”

Crunch!

“...!”

Before the man could finish, a sharp pain shot through his body. The young man had closed the distance in an instant and was now covering his mouth.

When had he even moved?

All five of the man’s fingers were twisted in unnatural directions.

“Mmmph! Mmmph…!”

“If you utter that crap again, even by mistake, I’ll rip off your arm next. Scream, and I’ll do it anyway. I’m letting go in three seconds, so keep quiet. Understood?”

At the young man’s calm words, the terrified man nodded repeatedly. There was no way to refuse.

The young man slowly released his grip. The man suppressed his pain, forcing himself into silence as the red-eyed figure loomed over him.

Kneeling down to meet his gaze, the young man asked:

“What’s your goal?”

It was the same question he had asked the others he tortured before. Trembling with fear, the man answered in a quivering voice.

“You… you already heard it all…”

“That’s all there is?”

“Yes… yes.”

They had already confessed everything—their orders were to tail the Tang Clan’s convoy and track its route.

Yet even after hearing this, the young man—no, So-yeomra—had continued his brutal interrogation.

‘So-yeomra…’

The man realized who this youth was and clenched his teeth.

They said he became ruthless when it came to dealing with those of the dark faction. Now, that seemed to be true.

‘I didn’t believe it… he seemed too young.’

But the rumors had been terrifyingly accurate. How could someone be this brutal? For someone supposedly part of the righteous faction, his methods were far too frightening, far too strange.

Just watching his torture methods was enough to make one wet themselves in fear. He wielded his flames as if they were tools of pure agony.

Could this man really be the future of the righteous sects?

As the man trembled, staring at So-yeomra, the youth maintained his cold expression and continued speaking.

“There were seven of you. One of your men was second-class, five were first-class, and the leader had reached the peak.”

“...!”

The man gasped internally. So-yeomra had perfectly grasped their ranks.

Their leader had indeed reached the peak, while the rest were first-class martial artists, and the man himself was only second-class.

“For mere bandits, that’s an extraordinary level. What exactly are you?”

“Huff… huff…”

“What’s your purpose, hmm?”

“I don’t… I don’t know…”

Hiss!

“Aaargh…!”

The young man grabbed one of the man’s twisted fingers and burned it with his flames. The pain was excruciating, making the man shake uncontrollably.

After burning him for a while, the young man asked again.

“Answer me.”

“I-I don’t know! Please… please…!”

“Fine. Let’s try another question. Is your superior’s name Tang Deok?”

“...!?”

When So-yeomra mentioned their captain’s name, the man’s body stiffened.

‘How…?’

How could So-yeomra know Tang Deok’s name? No one in the central plains knew his real name—they only knew his alias.

The young man smirked, as if he had confirmed everything.

That smile sent shivers down the man’s spine. How could a human smile like that?

“So, it’s him. Tang Deok’s lackeys.”

“…How do you…?”

“Why? Shouldn’t you people have stayed quiet? Why come crawling out and making trouble?”

“…Are you… acquaintances with the captain?”

“Acquaintances?”

So-yeomra smiled, his eyes narrowing.

“Yeah, you could say we’re close enough that I’d pop his eyeballs out.”

“...”

It was clear their relationship was anything but good.

Any hope the man had of using his connections to survive crumbled in that instant.

Even as he endured the pain, his mind was racing with questions.

He had known the Tang Clan’s convoy would be accompanied by So-yeomra from the Gu family.

But even with his reputation, they hadn’t expected him to be more dangerous than the Poison King or the clan leaders.

‘How…?’

The man thought of the orb their leader had carried—the gwi-mul that erased the presence of its bearer and those nearby. Even the Poison King’s experts wouldn’t have been able to detect them from afar.

‘How did this guy find us?’

How had So-yeomra penetrated the gwi-mul’s effect so easily? Could he be even stronger than the Poison King?

That couldn’t be. No matter how much of a prodigy he was, that would be impossible.

Then, did he use some other method?

“I can hear your brain working all the way over here.”

“…!”

Crunch!

“Gaaah!”

Another of the man’s fingers was twisted. It hurt even more this time, given how damaged they already were.

“Wh… why…?”

“Oh, sorry. Habit. I’m used to breaking people while they talk, so it’s hard to stop.”

He said this with a smile, but it was hardly something to smile about. Torture, a habit?

‘Is this guy really part of the righteous sects?’

The man’s mind was drowning in questions.

“These bandits are unusually strong. Were they always this capable?”

“…”

“Oh, that wasn’t a question. No need to answer.”

As So-yeomra spoke, the man began to sweat profusely. His voice was higher than one would expect for someone his age, and it had softened since their first encounter.

But the man could tell instinctively that this young man’s voice carried murderous intent.

“To be honest, I wasn’t really interested in what you had to say. It was all obvious anyway.”

He had intended to kill them all from the beginning.

So why the torture? Why go through this process?

“I just needed to pick the right person. Someone who’s scared, but smart enough to listen.”

“…That’s…”

“Do you want to live?”

The man clamped his mouth shut at So-yeomra’s question. Did he want to live? Of course he did.

But it was So-yeomra asking that question that filled him with unease.

“I won’t ask again. Answer.”

“I… I want to live… I want to live.”

There was no way he could refuse. He had to answer.

Satisfied with the response, So-yeomra nodded.

“Ah, one more thing—this is a personal question. How many people have you spared after they begged for their lives like you’re doing now?”

“…!”

“Your silence is answer enough. That’s all I needed to hear. I feel better now.”

The man had never spared anyone before, and he feared this meant he was about to be killed. But despite that, So-yeomra didn’t move to finish him off.

Was he really going to let him live? The man began to feel a sense of relief. But then another problem arose.

‘But is this really… living?’

His legs were broken, rendering him unable to walk, and all of his fingers were mangled beyond repair.

Even if his hand might recover, there was no saving his legs. Not even the best doctor would be able to fix that.

This wasn’t living.

Just as his brief moment of relief began turning to despair, So-yeomra grabbed the man by the throat.

What was this? Hadn’t he just said he would spare him…?

“Let me warn you ahead of time, try to endure this. I’m not gentle like Cheonma.”

“Cheonma? What do you mean? You said you would spare me…!”

“I will. After all, you still have work to do.”

With those words, the man saw it.

The red in So-yeomra’s eyes began shifting to a deep violet.

The color was strangely mesmerizing, and despite the terrifying situation, he couldn’t look away.

Even in this horrifying moment.

As the man stared, captivated by those eyes, So-yeomra spoke again.

“What’s your name?”

“J-Julbok.”

“Julbok, right. You have one job—return to Tang Deok and deliver my message. That’s all you need to do.”

Just as the man began to process the command, he felt something stir within him.

Something small burrowed deep into his danjeon (the core of his martial energy).

Then—

Boom!

“Gahhh!!”

The energy rapidly expanded, completely taking over his danjeon.

But that wasn’t all. After taking control of his danjeon, the energy spread to his heart.

“Urghhh…! Aaaargh!!”

The pain was unbearable, worse than anything he had ever experienced. Far beyond any suffering he had endured before.

Was this So-yeomra’s way of torturing and killing him, despite his promise?

Julbok was convinced that this was the case. What else could explain this intense agony?

‘I… I don’t want to die…’

Desperation to live overwhelmed him.

And that desperation was exactly what Gu Yangcheon—So-yeomra—was looking for.

That was what it meant to become a demon.

Whether for revenge, or to cling to life, there had to be something the person desired desperately.

Without that desire, they wouldn’t survive the process of becoming a demon.

Of course, in a past life, Cheonma would have handled this process much more delicately.

But Gu Yangcheon had no intention of doing it that way. In fact, he couldn’t.

After what had happened with Namgung Cheonjun, this was only the second time he had performed this ritual, but it was enough for him to realize one thing:

The reason Cheonma was able to transform people into demons without causing them pain was because of an extraordinary level of control.

Why Cheonma had chosen that method, Gu Yangcheon couldn’t say. But he had no desire to follow suit.

‘Scum like this don’t deserve that kind of mercy.’

It didn’t matter whether someone was good or evil—if they stood in his way, he wouldn’t show them any mercy.

That was his decision.

The Green King, in his past life, had been one of the most vicious demons.

And his subordinates were no different.

They murdered and tortured civilians for fun. Their crimes in the name of demonhood were countless.

Based on this man’s reactions, Gu Yangcheon could tell that Julbok was no different.

He wouldn’t fault him for it, though. After all, he himself had been a demon in his past life, slaughtering many under the pretext of war.

It was nothing more than revenge wrapped in the guise of penance. He had no excuses.

A brief moment passed, and a change began to take place in the man who had called himself Julbok. His appearance hadn’t altered much, but Gu Yangcheon could sense it.

Dark energy had firmly rooted itself in the man’s danjeon and heart.

Julbok had become a demon at Gu Yangcheon’s hand, and the sight made him frown.

‘Barely holding on as a second-class martial artist, huh?’

Had he been of a lower rank, he wouldn’t have survived the demonic transformation—his body would’ve exploded from the strain.

That was why Gu Yangcheon had chosen him from the start. He had noticed that Julbok possessed both a decent rank and a strong desire to survive.

At the higher ranks—first-class and beyond—the control required to sustain the transformation was difficult. At most, he’d be able to bind them with a verbal contract or prevent them from betraying him.

But with hwa-gyeong (peak martial artists), it would be impossible.

Julbok, however, was the perfect candidate.

Gu Yangcheon had chosen someone he could easily control.

Julbok seemed to realize what had happened to his body, as he looked at Gu Yangcheon with wide, startled eyes.

He could feel the difference in his body, which had been transformed into that of a demon. His broken leg, for example, now moved.

It hadn’t fully healed, though. The demonic energy was merely holding his shattered bones together for now.

Watching this, Gu Yangcheon stood up. His expression was indifferent, but internally, he was amazed.

‘So, this is possible too.’

He had known that Cheonma’s demonic energy could accomplish such feats, but he hadn’t expected his own demonic energy to be capable of the same.

Was it because Julbok’s rank was so low? Shouldn’t a lower rank make it more difficult?

This was something he would need to investigate further.

For now, though, it was enough. Healing others with demonic energy wasn’t his goal.

As he rose, he spoke to the man before him.

“You only have one job.”

Julbok stared at Gu Yangcheon with trembling eyes.

Those eyes were filled with fear… and awe.

Why did demons always look at him that way? At least, Gu Yangcheon had never looked at Cheonma that way. But he didn’t know, and frankly, didn’t care.

Gu Yangcheon didn’t concern himself with such things. He only cared about his safety and the safety of those close to him.

Looking down at Julbok, he continued.

“Tell Tang Deok this:”

This was all part of his plan. Julbok listened closely to his words.

And Julbok would repeat those words to Tang Deok exactly as he had been told.

“Stop with the petty tricks and show yourself, you failure.”

Crack!

A massive stone chair crumbled under the pressure of a clenched fist.
The overwhelming aura released by the man sitting in the chair made the air around him tremble.

A giant with thick green hair.
The bandit leader of Gui Moon Mountain, the captain—Tang Deok—repeated the words that had just been spoken to him.

“That brat said to tell me that?”

“Yes… y-yes, captain.”

Tang Deok looked at the man delivering the message.

His name was Julbok. He had been a subordinate of Godong, a first-class martial artist who had reached the peak last year.

At the mention of Godong, Tang Deok’s expression twisted in irritation.

‘I sent them to track the Tang Clan’s convoy, and this guy’s the only one who returned?’

Ha…

Not only that, but Julbok had also lost the gwi-mul, the treasure he had entrusted to them.

The absurdity of the situation made Tang Deok chuckle quietly.

Creak.

His quiet laugh was followed by the sound of his enormous hand gripping a spear that was even larger than his massive frame.

“…He knows my name, and he dares provoke me?”

So-yeomra, was it?

What an amusing kid.

Tang Deok smiled at Julbok.
Seeing that smile, the other bandits in the room shuddered in fear.

“Julbok.”
“Yes… captain?”
“Everything’s fine, but there’s still one thing that bothers me.”

“What… is that?” Julbok’s eyes widened with fear.

“If your comrades died out there, shouldn’t you have died with them? You worthless dog.”

“C-captain…! Wait…!”
“And yet you had the nerve to come back alive? How shameless.”

With a growl, Tang Deok grabbed Julbok by the throat, lifting him into the air.
Although Julbok wasn’t small by any means, he looked tiny compared to the giant Tang Deok.

“Useless trash… I have no need for a failure like you.”

“P-please spare me, captain! Please, I beg you!”

Despite Julbok’s desperate pleas, Tang Deok crushed his throat without hesitation.

Crack!
The sickening sound of bones breaking echoed as Julbok’s neck snapped.

But then—

Bzzzzzz!

“Huh?”

Something strange happened to Julbok’s body as it began to vibrate.

His eyes had gone lifeless—he was clearly dead.
So, what was this?

“What the hell is this?”

Just as Tang Deok voiced his confusion—

Boom!

A loud burst came from Julbok’s body, and blood erupted from his mouth, spraying all over Tang Deok.

“...”

Tang Deok, now drenched in blood, didn’t react. The other bandits hurried to bring him something to clean up with, but he simply wiped his face with his massive hand.

As he did, he thought to himself.

Julbok had suddenly exploded with blood after his death.

Tang Deok didn’t understand what had caused it, but he had one suspicion.

It was a message.

Creak…

Tang Deok laughed. It started as a quiet chuckle, but soon grew into a loud, booming laugh that echoed throughout the room.

Hahaha!

After a long moment of laughter, Tang Deok grinned from ear to ear.

“So-yeomra, was it?”

That brat had the nerve to send him such a message—ordering him to appear in person.

Tang Deok, still grinning, began to move. He didn’t bother cleaning off the blood that covered him.

‘Under normal circumstances, I’d have been more cautious about this.’

But after being provoked like this, he couldn’t just sit still.
With a quiet chuckle, Tang Deok whispered to himself,

“Grab your weapons.”

At his words, the others around him immediately released their auras, filling the room with a thick, murderous intent.

And, as always, the most fearsome of all was Tang Deok’s own aura.

 

In the middle of eating, I suddenly sensed something unusual and lifted my head.

“Ah.”

“Is something wrong?”

Wi Seol-ah, who had been placing side dishes on top of my rice, tilted her head in confusion at my reaction.

I shook my head slightly and took a mouthful of rice.

“It’s nothing.”

Namgung Bi-ah and Moyong Hee-ah exchanged curious looks, as if they had sensed something as well. However, I had no intention of explaining.

I simply clicked my tongue internally a few times.

Click, click.

‘I had planned to keep him alive, as promised.’

The reason for my reaction was clear.

I had just realized that Julbok was dead. The binding I had placed on him had been triggered.

The command I had given to Julbok wasn’t just to deliver a message to Tang Deok. I had also ordered it to activate if he was about to be killed by Tang Deok’s hand.

His heart would explode, causing him to vomit blood.

From this, I knew that Julbok had indeed been killed by Tang Deok.

I hadn’t killed him myself—just as expected, Tang Deok had done it.

‘He must be furious.’

Considering Tang Deok’s fiery temper, it was no surprise that he would be outraged.

‘The bait is set.’

Even if Tang Deok didn’t come in person as I anticipated, the plan was already in motion. Now, it was just a matter of waiting.

“Do you want some water?”

“Yeah.”

I drank the water that Namgung Bi-ah had poured for me, glancing around at the surrounding forest.

It was the same as always, but there had been a noticeable shift.

‘We’re in Sichuan now.’

Our journey had continued, and summer was approaching. At long last, we had entered Sichuan, our destination.