Even in front of the Demon Commander’s office, guards blocked our way.

“You can’t enter without an appointment.”

“This is an official investigation. Stand aside.”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that.”

I didn’t want to waste more time watching the same cycle of back-and-forth, so I took the writ from Seo Daeryong’s hand and held it up for the guards to see.

“Can you see the emblem etched into this document?”

It was official—emblazoned in the background was the seal of the Heavenly Demon.

“Blocking this writ isn’t just blocking us. It’s blocking the Cult Leader himself.”

At the mention of the Heavenly Demon, the guards stiffened.
They likely hadn’t had anyone throw that weight around before—certainly not using the background pattern of the official seal.

“You can ignore us, but can you ignore this? Are you going to report to the Cult Leader that you did? Should I do it for you?”

“N-no, not at all!”

“We wouldn’t dare!”

Then, from inside, a voice rang out.

“Let them in.”

Relieved, the guards stepped aside and opened the door.

Seo Daeryong must have realized it then—that was how he should have handled the gate earlier.
Perhaps he hesitated to invoke my father’s name, but the Heavenly Demon’s authority existed precisely for moments like this.

“Come in, young master.”

Gu Cheonyang, the Demon Commander, was of average build, yet his presence was enough to dominate even the largest of his subordinates.

But compared to his older brother—the Blood Heaven Butcher—he fell short.
He had the same face, the same eyes, but none of that wildfire I’d seen in the Butcher’s gaze.

“You’re harder to meet than my father.”

“My men must have crossed the line. They’re not exactly the sharpest tools in the shed—hope you’ll forgive them.”

“Seeing them swarm like that, clearly bored out of their minds, perhaps you should make them read a book or two.”

“Sometimes, ignorance is bravery.”

“Old saying. These days, it’s the educated ones who are bolder—they know how to plan, and exactly what needs to be done.”

“Maybe I’m just getting too old to keep up with the world.”

Even in these casual exchanges, the tension was sharp.
He was an old hand in the sect’s power games—he returned my words with steady composure, unshaken.

“But tell me, young master—why were you assigned to lead this investigation?”

“It seems Father wishes to punish me.”

“Punish?”

“I made a mistake during a recent hunt.”

“Ah.”

The Demon Commander’s expression lit with understanding.
He must have been wracking his brain ever since hearing I’d been sent here, wondering what scheme lay beneath it.

“So what triggered the Yellow Spring Division to start this investigation? Another anonymous letter, like before?”

He feigned nonchalance, but I could sense his nerves.
This wasn’t some small-time outfit—Yellow Spring didn’t just make noise.
If wrongdoing was discovered, they enforced punishment to the letter.

“I can’t reveal details about the investigation.”

“Come now, between us, surely you can share that much?”

“Between us,” he said, so casually.
You needed that kind of shamelessness to survive the politics of this place.

“Very well, Commander. I’ll be honest. Yes, a letter came in.”

“I knew it.”

Seo Daeryong looked at me, surprised.
His eyes asked, You’re just going to tell him?
Mine answered, It’s fine. Let him know.

That silent exchange must’ve amused the Demon Commander.
He probably found our little act naive. That worked in my favor.

“Apparently, Yellow Spring is required to dispatch an investigator whenever a letter is received. First time I’ve seen it in action myself.”

Predictably, the Demon Commander protested his innocence.

“When you command brutes as unpolished as mine, you’re bound to be smeared with baseless rumors.”

“Honestly, I didn’t expect there’d be any. After all, making false accusations takes brains, doesn’t it? Would uneducated brutes even think of sending a letter?”

“They may be dull, but their greed is anything but. Even you should be careful, young master. When stupidity and greed combine, things happen that should never happen.”

His veiled threat didn’t wipe the smile from my face.

“We’ll conclude the investigation as quickly as possible. I ask for your understanding in the meantime.”

His expression eased slightly.

“Understanding? Are we that petty? I’m hurt.”

“Everyone knows the Blood Heaven Butcher supports my brother. Isn’t that common knowledge?”

“He may support your brother, but I’m me. And I support you, young master.”

A lie, clear as day.
I gave him a full, cheerful smile.

“Ha. Just hearing that puts me at ease. Then I’ll be counting on you for the next few days.”

“You’ll be given quarters outside. Make yourselves at home.”

Just as I rose to leave, he added one last comment.

“Be careful. I mean that sincerely.”

“You mean like the last time, when the investigator was murdered?”

“Come now. Would the Cult Leader really send you here to die? I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Ha. Just hearing that makes me feel safer. Then, I’ll take my leave.”

I left the office with Seo Daeryong.
My neck felt hot—his glare was burning into the back of my head.

Then maybe you should be the one to watch your back.
Because if Father sent me here, it’s probably to kill either me... or you.

 

****

The Grand Strategist, Sima Myeong, watched as the Heavenly Demon—Geom Woojin—tended to his sword.

“The Black Demon Sword. It’s been a while since I saw you take it out.”

Among the Four Great Demon Blades of the sect, this was one.

The best of them all was the Heavenly Demon Sword, which Woojin wore himself.
Second was the Black Demon Sword.
Third, the Evil Spirit Blade.
Last, the White Blossom Blade.

Each had its own nature.
The Black Demon Sword was violent and destructive.
The Evil Spirit Blade radiated wicked energy.
The White Blossom Blade was gentle and noble.

“Are you preparing to give that blade to the young master?”

Woojin’s hand paused—just for a second—then resumed.

“If the boy is lucky enough, he’ll earn it.”

Sima Myeong understood immediately.
If the young master handled this mission well, this would be his reward.

“Still, facing the Demon Commander won’t be easy for him.”

Sima Myeong couldn’t understand the Cult Leader’s choice.
Even if Geom Muguk had been acting unpredictably lately, taking on the Demon Corps felt like too much.

“Reports say there’s already been conflict with the Corps. Honestly, getting through the Lesser Heaven Cavern might’ve backfired.”

That success could have bred overconfidence.
He was still too young—far too young to contend with a weathered veteran like the Demon Commander.

Sima Myeong had no doubt: the Black Demon Sword would soon return to its vault.

“I should’ve handled this myself.”

When the last investigator was murdered, Sima Myeong saw what it meant:
The Demon Commander had either blackmailed or bribed the Yellow Spring Lord.
The death of his subordinate was swept under the rug.
That’s why he wanted Skyreach Pavilion to handle this one directly.

Then Woojin said something unexpected.

“He told me this—said we’ve lost the Way of the Demon.”

Sima Myeong stiffened.

That phrase…
It wasn’t just an insult to the Cult Leader—it was blasphemy against the Grand Strategist himself.

But more than anger, he felt unease.

“Is that why you sent him?”

Are you sending him to die?
That was what he was really asking.

He hadn’t seen Muguk’s growth firsthand. His suspicions were inevitable.

“He made such bold claims. He should back them up.”

Which to Sima Myeong meant:

You ran your mouth—now prove it.

He fell silent, watching Woojin carefully polish the blade.
The man had sent his own flesh and blood into the jaws of danger, yet showed no hint of emotion.

“So… is he going to reclaim the lost Way himself?”

“That seems to be his intention.”

“Given what he’s shown lately… perhaps he’s worth watching.”

Woojin said nothing, eyes fixed on the blade.

Sima Myeong bowed and excused himself.

He walked across the red carpeted hall, then turned to glance back.

Woojin looked uninterested in Muguk’s survival—but his hands, as they polished the blade, were more meticulous than ever.

Surely not… Do you really believe he can defeat the Demon Commander?

The Cult Leader rarely showed his cards, but this time, even Sima Myeong couldn’t read his thoughts.

He resumed walking.

When he reached the end of the red carpet, he made his final conclusion:

No… the Black Demon Sword will return to the vault after all.

 

****

The room the Demon Corps had prepared for us left us both staring in disbelief.

“This is absurd.”

The space they gave us hadn’t been cleaned in ages. Dust layered every surface, and cobwebs hung from the ceiling like lace.

“I don’t understand. Even if the Demon Commander supports the First Heir, surely they wouldn’t treat you like this, young master.”

“To them, I’m a dead man walking. What does it mean to lose a succession battle in this sect? It means you die. And that’s not all—anyone who gets close to me might get purged right along with me.”

I pointed at Seo Daeryong and dragged a blade across my neck with my hand. You get too close to me, and you're getting the same treatment.
But Seo ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) Daeryong didn’t seem too bothered.

“Still… for the Cult Leader’s sake, I’d think they’d show some decorum.”

“They know full well my father doesn’t care about things like this. If anything, he finds it entertaining. And this room? It’s not the Demon Commander’s doing. It’s Go Dang’s.”

“Petty bastard’s holding a grudge...”

“It’s a move that’ll only shorten his own life. Don’t forget my prophecy.”

“Anyway, I’ll clean up. Please step outside.”

“We’ll clean it together.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

Together, we scrubbed and swept the room.
Seo Daeryong kept glancing at me, probably confused why someone like me would stoop to this.
But if he knew what I’d been through in my previous life, he’d understand that a bit of cleaning was nothing to me.

When we finished, he brought in fresh bedding.

“You’re really planning to sleep here?”

“Yeah.”

“May I ask why?”

“We need to find whoever sent the letter. The closer we stay, the more chances they’ll have to approach us.”

“Then I’ll stay. You should return to your residence, young master.”

“And leave you alone here at night? What if some sick freak breaks in? Some pervert who’s got a thing for small men?”

I said it as a joke—but he took it seriously.

“Then let’s sleep together.”

“And what if I’m the pervert?”

“Then I’ll confess my own hidden desires.”

A gloomy man like him cracking a joke like that made the air between us go cold and awkward for a beat.

“I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.”

As we left the building, Go Dang was standing at the entrance.
His injured hand was now wrapped in bandages.

I greeted him cheerfully, pretending not to notice.

“Captain Go! Have you eaten? If not, join us. Oh—your hand’s injured. What happened?”

Go Dang glared at me like a cornered beast.
I doubt even sworn enemies looked at each other with that much venom.
Maybe he’d planned to deliver a quiet warning, but my smugness must’ve lit a fire in him. His face turned red with rage.

“Young master, I won’t forget your cowardice.”

He still believed I’d broken his hand with a sneak attack.
He hadn’t realized it wouldn’t have made any difference even if I hadn’t.

If he couldn’t understand that, then every move he made from now on would be like dancing on the edge of a sword—right over death.

“What are you talking about?”

I denied it with an innocent face. His teeth clenched.

“Some people think noble blood protects them from blades.”

“Can you even hold a blade with that hand?”

“We’ll see soon enough—whether you drop your sword, or your guts.”

It was an open threat, completely out of line.

I just smiled and waved as he stormed off, seething.

“Wasn’t that a little too much?”

“He was the one pushing it.”

“Huh?”

“He was the one who waited to ambush me. He was the one who said he’d stab me in the gut.”

“Now that you mention it...”

“We keep coming up with reasons to excuse scumbags like him. ‘Oh, he’s just a villain, that’s just how they are.’ I think that’s pathetic. Why should we understand them? They should be held to higher standards. If anything, we should judge them harsher than anyone else. Guys like that should be crawling on the ground, begging for forgiveness—not snarling like dogs.”

Seo Daeryong nodded, deeply agreeing.

“Well, that was disgusting. Let’s go eat the most expensive, most delicious thing we can find.”

“Alright.”

“That’s it? I’m offering to splurge, and that’s all I get?”

“Apologies. I don’t really enjoy eating.”

“Do you enjoy anything, honestly? Fine. You get noodles.”

“Yes, sir.”

Really, he barely touched his food.

After seeing him leave half of the ridiculously expensive meal untouched, I decided I’d actually only buy him noodles next time.

We returned from dinner to find something unpleasant waiting for us.

Two dead crows had been tossed onto our bedding.

Seo Daeryong, who already had a perpetually sorrowful look, looked even gloomier.

“We’ll need new blankets.”

“Grab those crows and follow me.”

“Why…?”

I was already marching out of the room.

“Because we’re the kind of people who need dead crows more than live ones.”