—【Wasting a Life】.

“Huh?” Aerin blinked dumbly, her mind a puddle of light. “Wasting a life… what do you mean?”

“Like this.” Ye Weibai pointed around, a lazy finger cutting through warm sun. “Like us, doing nothing real—tea breathing steam, idle chatter, sunlight on skin—that is 【Wasting a Life】.”

“I got it!” Aerin’s eyes lit like glass catching dawn. She shot up a hand, eager wind at her fingertips. “Master Bai means after a big war we should nurture ourselves, restore—ow!”

Triumph cracked; the girl yelped and hugged her head like a wounded sparrow.

Ye Weibai slid a ruler back into nowhere, a shadow pulled from thin air. His clothes held no hiding place, yet the tool vanished like mist.

“Don’t overthink the extras.” He sipped tea, savoring the gold-haired girl’s tear-bright look, like rain beading on a lily. Peace sank into his bones.

Since becoming a 【Demon King】, the “cruel” in him felt sharpened, like a blade turned point-out.

“What I mean by wasting a life—no goal, no shrine—just burning 【Time】.”

“Eh? But, but—”

“But what.” Ye Weibai cut her off, voice hard as slate. “You know a real top student?”

“Top… what?” Aerin’s heart stumbled, a small boat in chop. Was she too stupid? The thought pricked like thorns.

“A real top student never studies in class. You take notes; he’s gaming. You answer; he’s gaming. You pull an all-nighter; he’s still gaming. In the end, his scores pin you down and steamroll you.”

He set the cup down; porcelain clicked like ice. He pointed at himself, a midnight smile under calm eyes. “That kind of student—like me—can birth despair in an opponent. Make them see it’s not lack of effort, not lack of talent. It’s simply—trash-tier. Not the same plane. Never comparable.”

Aerin stared, mouth ajar, thoughts fluttering like moths. “But… why? For what?”

“For what?”

Ye Weibai smiled. Pure black. A well with no bottom.

“To let them taste 【Despair】.”

“Ah… ah?”

“It’s fine if you don’t get it.” Ye Weibai’s voice softened, dusk over water. “When you become a true 【Hero King】, you’ll understand.”

He ignored the fog and questions in her eyes and kept on. “Just know this. True power never spends daily hours on practice. That’s for the weak. Practice? A day has twenty-four magic hours; one hour’s enough.”

“Then… what should I do?” The feeling was off, a pebble in her shoe. Yet Master Bai sounded… right.

“Aerin.” Ye Weibai looked at her, gaze steady as moonlight on a blade. He waited long enough for silence to gather.

Under the gaze, her skin prickled. She hurried to answer. “Yes, Master Bai.”

“Come knead my back.”

“…” Aerin’s face froze, a deer caught by lamplight. “—Eh?”

“What ‘eh.’ Can’t even do a back tap? Need me to add ‘please’?”

“N-no. I’ll do it now.” The golden-haired girl set down her cup, calm as petals settling, then stood.

Back home, Aerin had shed her silver light armor. After a hot bath, she changed into a pure white floral dress, elegant yet clean as spring rain. Her damp gold hair was tied at the ends with a red bow, baring her fine neck and ears—cute, playful, like a finch on a branch.

She padded to Ye Weibai’s back, docile as a cat.

A soft breeze stroked through the room; her fragrance drifted to Ye Weibai’s nose, sweet as pear blossoms. She raised her hands, ready to fall on his shoulders, when his voice came, calm as a lake.

“Aerin. A task for you.”

“Please command me, Master Bai.”

“While you’re with me day to day—” Ye Weibai spoke gently, words like silk over steel. “Hold the intent to kill me.”

“Wha—?!” Aerin’s pupils shrank, heart dropping like a stone in a well. Did she hear wrong?

Kill… did he mean that… kill?

“Can’t parse the Common Tongue?” Ye Weibai frowned, lines clean as calligraphy. “I’ll be clearer. Starting now—whether you’re kneading my shoulders, drinking tea, walking with me, chatting, eating, sunning, feeling the wind—keep thinking: how can I kill him? Right now, you see my defenseless back. Imagine slipping a blade into my heart—silent as snow. Understand?”

Aerin stood shocked for a long beat, mind a stunned bird. “U-understood. But… Master Bai, why?”

“【Demon King】.” Ye Weibai exhaled the taboo like cold smoke. The word made the girl shiver, a reed in winter wind. “It’s strong, very strong, monstrously strong. This—I probably know better than anyone.”

The girl shut her mouth and nodded, acceptance heavy as stone. Rumors across the continent, histories carved by scholars, their 【Hero King】 family’s whispered lore—none had ever doubted the 【Demon King】’s might.

Even now, the 【World】 still stood. The title 【Hero King】, passed to Aerin, made her the 9,679th. That meant the 【Demon King】 had been slain 9,679 times.

But never by a 【Hero King】 alone. It took the whole 【World】, a chorus of blades and prayers, to grasp the one-in-a-trillion opening and cut down the abyss.

Even then, no 【Hero King】 or companion who walked into that final storm had met a peaceful end. Some died in the battle, some in the victory’s ashes, devoured by the dark residue the 【Demon King】 left in their bodies.

Even the mighty 【Hero King】—was often the last to struggle, only to die young like a candle snuffed at noon.

Maybe… that’s why their 【Hero King】 bloodline never truly flourished—like a tree that keeps blooming and then freezing.

So, the 【Demon King】’s strength was beyond doubt.

“Aerin, where do you think a 【Demon King】 appears?” Ye Weibai asked, voice unhurried, like rain tapping bamboo.

“【Born with Misfortune and Ruin, it rises from the filthiest mire of this World!】” The old verse spilled out, honed by centuries, a blade of poetry.

The words left her mouth; dread pricked her skin. She stepped back, instinct like a rabbit’s—but too late.

Crack—

Black lightning fell, precise as a needle, on the same place.

Clutching her head, the girl’s eyes brimmed, rainy and wide. “Master Bai! C-can’t you hit somewhere else?”

“No. You’re this dense; the same spot sticks.” Ye Weibai smiled, spring thaw over dark water. “Remember it.”

“W-what is this…” Tears pooled, grievance a river behind her gaze.

Aerin couldn’t see his face.

He was smiling, but the smile drifted, a wisp ready to ride the breeze away.

—He hadn’t spoken idly. He’d placed the arrow.

“I’ll give you another chance.” Ye Weibai’s smile tightened into clarity. “Where does a 【Demon King】 appear?”

“Uh…” Her mind truly stalled. Stories spoke of its terror—hands that erase nations, feet that split continents. Tales painted its evil—hatred of life, stripping all vitality; loathing of joy, a smile its most hated bloom.

Legends marked battlegrounds of 【Hero King】 and 【Demon King】—peak of snowy mountains, heart of desert, floor of deep seas…

Yet none had said clearly… where a 【Demon King】 would appear.

“Ah, foolish disciple.” Ye Weibai shook his head, like a plum tree shedding frost. “A 【Demon King】 is—everywhere.”

Everywhere—like saying nothing at all.

“…” Aerin couldn’t help rolling her eyes, a white wave in blue. He was talking nonsense!

“Don’t think I can’t see you roll your eyes, just because my back’s turned.” Ye Weibai’s cold chuckle slid out, a blade’s edge across silk. Aerin crossed her hands, palms to forehead, reflex like a small shield.

No familiar pain came. Embarrassed, she lowered her hands and muttered, “It’s… true, though.”

“You think I’m spouting air. Aerin, did it ever cross your mind a 【Demon King】—”

He drank, lids lowered, hiding twin black skies.

“—is right beside you? Not some abstract around. I mean—the person at your side.”

The person at my side? Her breath caught, a bird between bars.

“Say—your classmates, your teachers.”

“Say—Uncle John?”

“No! Impossible!” Aerin denied at once, a bell rung too hard. “Uncle John’s worked for our family for decades!”

“Oh? Has he?”

“Absolutely!” Aerin’s voice stood firm, a post in storm.

“Then what about me?” Ye Weibai’s mouth curled, moonlight on a scythe. “I could very well be a 【Demon King】. Fell from the sky, approached the heir of the 【Hero King】, took the role of your teacher—pretty suspicious, isn’t it?”

“N… Master Bai… how could that be?” Aerin shook her head, braid swaying like wheat. “If you were a 【Demon King】, you’d kill me. Why train me to become a 【Hero King】?”

“Who knows? Maybe this generation’s 【Demon King】 is… unhinged. Maybe it doesn’t want to be a 【Demon King】 anymore. Maybe it’s turned over a new leaf.”

“If the 【Demon King】 truly turned good, then I wouldn’t have to fight it.” Aerin seized the flaw, a spark in fog.

“Hahahahahahahaha.” Ye Weibai laughed like a spring storm on tiles, as if he’d heard the best joke on earth.

“W-what’s funny? Did I say something wrong?” Aerin felt right, a compass steady.

If the 【Demon King】 stopped trying to ruin the world, we could coexist. Simple.

“No, Aerin, you’re not wrong.” Ye Weibai shook his head, a willow refusing wind. “But this 【World】—it never bends to human will. Many things need no reason… only 【Atmosphere】.”

“Then—” Aerin tried to speak, but his voice folded over hers.

“Just remember, Aerin. Carefulness is never wrong.”

She paused, then nodded, truth settling like dust.

“So even if only to sharpen vigilance, to raise a warrior’s awareness… try making ‘kill me’ part of your daily routine.” Ye Weibai’s tone stayed light, a feather over steel.

“But—” It sounded reasonable, and he wore it easy. Yet Aerin’s chest felt tight, a drumming in a sealed room. Discomfort swelled; she didn’t want to agree. Holding the thought—kill Master Bai—felt too strange, a thorn in the heart.

“Fine.” Seeing her sulky face, Ye Weibai sighed, a reed bending. “Maybe it’s too early for you. Switch it to—beat me. That’s not hard, right?”

Beat him? That was miles better than killing.

“Mm!” The pressure blew off like morning mist. Aerin smiled bright, nodded hard.

“Ah.” Ye Weibai sighed again, like an old bell. “Foolish disciple. There’s a shortcut, and you insist on the long road.”

Hearing that, the girl couldn’t help sticking out her tongue at the back of his head, a playful ghost face painted in her mind. Then—

Smack!

“Ow ow ow! M-Master Bai! My tongue— I bit my tongue!”