Ethan steadied the man’s collapsing body and gently lowered him to the cold stone floor.Then he really looked at him.At the face beneath the dirt and blood.At the familiar line of the jaw.At the scar near the left brow—small, old, something a younger Ethan remembered asking about again and again as a child.Time seemed to stop.Ethan’s pupils constricted.And then—Red.Not rage.Not madness.Recognition.His eyes burned crimson as a surge of emotion tore through the discipline he had built for years.“…No,” he whispered.His hand trembled as he reached up and brushed the man’s tangled hair away from his face.“Uncle Rowan…”The name left his lips like a wound reopening.This was not just anyone.Rowan Bourgue had been a servant in name only. He had carried Ethan on his shoulders when he was small. He had bandaged his scraped knees, taught him how to hold a blade properly, how to breathe when fear tried to crush his chest.When the Storm family had fallen into chaos, Rowan had van

Rowan nodded slowly, as if the weight of what he was about to say pressed on his chest.“The demon realm isn’t one endless wasteland,” he went on. “It’s divided. Ruled. Controlled.”Ethan listened without interrupting, his face unreadable.“There are cities,” Rowan said. “Many of them. Built deep into the realm, carved from black stone and cursed metal. Each one belongs to a demon lord or a council. And at the heart of every city—always in the central plaza—there is a Demon Gate.”Ethan’s eyes narrowed just slightly. “Every city.”“Yes,” Rowan confirmed. “No exceptions.”He clenched his fingers together. “The Gates are ancient. Older than the current demon kings. They’re heavily guarded—elite demons, bound creatures, living weapons. Nothing approaches a Gate unnoticed.”“And through them,” Ethan said quietly, already knowing the answer.Rowan nodded. “Through them, a passage to the human world can be opened.”The words settled like lead.“That,” Rowan continued, “is how demons cross o

Rowan’s eyes widened. “That’s not a scout.”Ethan’s aura tightened instantly, pulled inward, controlled. He turned his head slightly, listening.Each step cracked stone.Each step carried pressure.“High-ranking,” Ethan murmured. “Alone.”Rowan’s voice dropped to a whisper. “They must’ve felt you kill the demon. Or sensed the holy surge.”Ethan slipped the mask back into his coat. “Good.”Rowan stared at him. “Good?”Ethan’s lips curved faintly—not in humor, but in calm certainty.“I was wondering where I’d get demon blood.”The vibrations traveled through the stone beneath their feet. Rowan stiffened, his fingers tightening around the edge of the bench.“…That’s—” Rowan’s voice faltered. He swallowed hard, his pale eyes darting toward the corridor. “…that must be the demon guarding this chamber. Returning.”Ethan’s lips curved into a faint, sharp smile—not warm, not friendly, but deliberate.“Returning?” Rowan whispered, fear and disbelief mixing in his tone. “After… after everything

Rowan’s voice sharpened, just enough to pierce the chamber’s tension. “Weak humans? The ones who outwit demons like you? The ones who survive the arena of your arrogance?”The demon’s mouth dropped slightly, as if Rowan’s words had sliced the air. Then it laughed—a low, rumbling sound that shook the walls. “Outwit me? You—you’ve seen nothing! You don’t even grasp the order of this realm! I have crushed cities larger than your puny human mind could imagine! And you—” it leaned closer, almost spitting with fury “—you speak as if you own the place!”Rowan stood straighter, anger flashing across his gaunt face. “I don’t own your realm. I don’t need to. But I know when someone underestimates me—and you, demon, have made that mistake. Twice.”The demon froze for a fraction of a second. Its nostrils flared, and then a low, furious growl echoed. “Twice? Twice?! You’re lucky I’m restrained by duty, human! If not—”“Do you hear yourself?” Rowan interrupted, his voice steady, defiant. “You bark

Red flared in Ethan’s eyes. Not heat. Not rage. A storm. Cold. Vast. Held back by will alone. For one heartbeat, he measured everything. Distance. Timing. The angle of the demon’s spine. The weak points in the Gate Warden’s aura. He could end this clean. Then Rowan coughed again. It was wet. Broken. Wrong. Something inside Ethan snapped clean in half. He moved. No warning. No words. No mercy. The shadows behind the demon folded inward like a closing fist. Pressure slammed down, heavy as the sky itself. Ethan stepped out of concealment and drove his palm forward. Divine power detonated. Not as light. As force. The blow hit the demon square between the shoulders. The sound wasn’t an explosion. It was a crack. Like the world’s spine snapping. The demon lurched forward, claws ripping deep trenches into the stone floor as it staggered. “What—?!” it roared, spinning, aura flaring wild. “WHO—” Its words died in its throat. Ethan stood behind it. Still. Calm.