Elder Madam Keir opened her mouth—then closed it again.
A cold dread settled in her chest.
Without sparing her a word, Shin walked past as though she didn't exist, his footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. He didn't even look her way. The temperature seemed to chill in his wake.
She stood frozen in the entryway, hand still raised from where she meant to scold him. Her moment of hesitation passed, and fury surged in to fill the space where fear had just been.
"You ungrateful brat!" she shrieked after him. "No manners! No respect for your elders! What kind of upbringing turns a child into a beast?"
Shin didn't answer.
The only response was the dull thud of his door closing upstairs.
---
Inside his room, the quiet was suffocating.
He dropped into the chair beside his desk, dragging a hand down his face. The words from Old Ram repeated again, this time quieter, deeper, like an echo in his bones.
"The echoes of forgotten lives will shake your present…"
If it was just a dream—why had it done that to a man like Old Ram?
A priest who had seen decades of darkness.
What had he seen in him?
Or was he just overthinking?
Perhaps it had been a coincidence, and Old Ram's underlying illness had simply flared at that moment.
Unfortunately for him, that night was destined to stretch into something far more than just sleepless.
A foreboding stillness settled over the villa as clouds veiled the moon.
He lay on his bed, eyes heavy with fatigue, but his thoughts refused to quiet. When sleep finally took him, it wasn't peaceful.
It was a fall.
He blinked, and the world was different.
Strange… and yet eerily familiar.
There was no floor beneath his feet, no sensation of a body. He drifted like air—silent, shapeless, unseen.
The sky was deep violet, lit by twin blood moons. Towering black cliffs surrounded a winding road below, where monstrous figures galloped through the darkness.
"My King, we are about to enter the Capital."
The voice was gravel, raw and guttural.
Shin turned—or perhaps drifted—toward the sound.
A creature rode a beast of flame, its red eyes glowing like embers. Another rode beside him—taller, cloaked in shifting shadows.
Neither were human.
They bore ram-like horns, sharp ears, thick armor, and clothing made from materials that shimmered and shifted like shadows and glass, regal and primordial.
The one on horseback was wrapped in a heavy black cloak, beneath which he wore dark battle gear etched with ancient runes. Upon his head sat a jagged crown—obsidian in shape, adorned with blood-colored gems that pulsed as if alive.
From the king's body emanated a black mist, thick and restless, curling like serpents. It flowed around him with purpose, obeying his every step.
His horse was no less fearsome—its hooves sparked fire, and its mane blazed with crimson flame, licking the wind like ribbons of blood.
"Let's make haste and prepare for Daiesthai!" the King commanded, voice deep and thunderous.
The company of demons galloped onward. Their horses' rhythm echoing through the cliffs like war drums.
"Richt, can you feel it?" a demon general cackled, his white hair flowing as he spurred his mount. "The alluring scents of the finest demonesses of Avernus! Ahh, how I've missed the Capital's treasures!"
His cloak glinted with gold, and strange emblems marked his armor—symbols Shin couldn't read but instinctively knew were of high rank.
"Let's race toward the Imperial Palace!"
The King smirked, cold and assured, then rode ahead like thunder chasing lightning.
Shin floated above them, helpless but curious, gliding like a silent wind through this strange realm.
Beneath him, thousands of demonic beings lined the road. They cheered, waving flags and howling praise, pride and arrogance shining in their eyes.
Then he saw it—the Imperial Palace.
A black diamond glittering beneath the gaze of the twin moons. It towered above all else, monstrous and magnificent. Its walls shimmered with magic. But inside... the beauty faded.
Cold black marble, sharp-angled furnishings, and heavy red curtains made the interior suffocating. It was cold. Dreary. Hollow.
The King roamed its halls with possession in his gaze, as though each turn, each room, each torch belonged to him already.
He carried the confidence of someone who knew power would soon be his.
Eventually, his attention shifted. He stepped out onto a high balcony and looked toward the back of the palace—where a boundless forest stretched endlessly beneath the blood moons.
His eyes narrowed.
"Perfect," he muttered. "A place to hone my aura."
He descended into the forest.
As he walked further ahead, towering red trees reached the heavens, their bark glistening under moonlight. Crimson vines twisted between branches. Flowers bloomed like blooddrops on the soil. A glowing mist slithered between the trunks, painting the forest in a haunting red glow.
"I must have stepped into a labyrinth," the King murmured, sword already drawn.
From above, Shin's heart twisted.
Of course, he knew this forest. It was the same forest from his dreams.
Disturbing and surreal.
Then... laughter. Soft. Teasing.
It echoed through the trees like wind in glass.
"Come out before I rip you apart!" the King roared, unsheathing his blade. Instantly, his aura expanded, and the mist around him scattered like sand.
Shin saw the sword clearly. Long. Dark. Ominous. It shimmered not with light, but with an aura that devoured all it touched.
The sight of it made his heart pounded hard against his ribs, feeling the hatred and indescribable despair.
Another laugh rang out—closer this time.
Then silence. Stillness.
No beast stirred. No leaves fell.
A soft voice, calm and curious, broke the hush.
"How did you get here?"
Shin's breath caught. It was a familiar voice, enchantingly beautiful it could calm the wind and mesmerize any creatures. Like music underwater.
He turned.
From behind a tree, she stepped into view.
Her ruby-red eyes glowed like fireflies in shadow. Silver hair flowed past her knees. Around her neck hung strands of dark gems, and her red dress shimmered with crystal pieces that reflected moonlight.
She was radiant and alluring.
"Show your true self!" the King demanded, sword leveled at her throat.
She didn't flinch. Her long lashes fluttered like she was being caressed, not threatened.
"Stop! What are you doing!?" Shin shouted. He tried to move—to run, to intervene—but his body was still just air.
The blade struck.
But instead of blood, red petals fell, velvety and slow, floating to the ground like a blooming rose.
The King stepped back, momentarily stunned.
"You are not a demon," he growled. "What are you?"
She tilted her head, smiling.
"A succubus," she whispered.
"Lies!" the King snarled. "Who do you serve? Why should I spare your life?"
Her smile didn't waver. "Serve? I serve no one. This is home."
"I do not practice forbearance and leniency. Soon, I will be the Emperor. All land is mine—including this forest!"
"Your land?" she asked innocently, glancing around. "But... Jewel cannot leave the forbidden forest."
"Then you shall vanish with it."
He raised his sword again, his face a mask of contempt.
Still, she didn't move. Didn't blink. As if she knew—nothing could harm her.
But Shin...
Shin felt something snap inside.
Pain spiked through his skull. His chest burned. His vision swam in pain. Veins bulged across his forehead as sorrow and rage tore through him.
"No! Not again! Not this time!" he shouted, voice cracked with desperation.
Then—
He gasped and his eyes flew open. Now back in his bed.
Drenched in sweat and heart pounding like war drums in his ears.
The room was still dark and the air was heavy.
Shin looked down at his hands intently. Just staring.
The silence stretched, thick and eerie.
"I have to see her…" he muttered.
And then, without another thought, he bolted.
He pushed the blanket off, got out of bed barefoot, and rushed out of the room like a man possessed.
Each step echoed down the long, dark hallway. His breath came out uneven, a tight rhythm in his chest.
The air in the villa was heavy, as though something unseen watched from the shadows, but Shin didn't care. He had to go.
He was nearing the front door when a low voice halted him.
"Where are you going?"
Shin stopped, pupils contracting.
The voice echoed from the dark living room. Smooth and calm.
Tristan.
He cast a vicious glare into the gloom.
There, on the leather sofa, Tristan sat—one leg crossed over the other, arms resting casually on the backrest. His face was mostly veiled in darkness, unreadable. It was as if he'd been waiting.
"You don't look well," Tristan said smoothly.
Shin glanced at his watch. The sun hadn't even broken the sky. "Have you gone mad? What are you doing here?" His voice was sharp, dangerous.
Tristan chuckled, but it was hollow, low—his tone edged with something dangerous. "Where are you off to? Barefoot, no less?"
A volatile mix of anger and anxiety churned within Shin, something buried deep inside him slowly clawing its way to the surface, bleeding into his consciousness.
"I have to see her," he said slowly, voice disgruntled.
Tristan stood up, movements fluid, almost too graceful. His smile was still in place, but his eyes were unsettling.
"I heard you consulted an exorcist..." he said casually, tilting his head. "That was careless of me, but I suppose it's not too late to correct that mistake."
Shin stared in confusion, clutching his pounding head. Veins bulged. The dark mist around him began to stir violently.
He had only informed Secretary Yun about the matter with the exorcist.
So why was Tristan meddling so much in his affairs?
Tristan remained still, eyes narrowing.
Then, a twisted smile curled across Shin's lips. His gaze burned with obsession—and carnage.
"Where is she?"
He spoke in an unfamiliar tongue, his voice low, dark, and possessive.
"Damn it… the shackles must've loosened," Tristan muttered. "How troublesome. I still have to take care of that priest too."
Shin laughed wildly and unhinged as he turned for the door.
However the next second, his world tilted.
Shin stumbled, his knees buckling as a heavy wave of dizziness crashed over him. His surroundings blurred, spinning in reverse like time unraveling.
The floor felt soft and far away.
The last thing he saw was Tristan's silhouette moving toward him.
And then—
Darkness.