Ye Weibai split the Void and stepped into Aerin’s bedroom.
The girl was lost in a sweet dream.
She lay in gauzy pale‑pink sleepwear, and on a muggy midsummer night a thin white sheet was enough.
Her hair fanned loose; she curled like a cat. At some point the sheet had rolled up, baring dainty feet and slender, milk‑pale calves, glowing like frost under the moon.
Her defenseless sleep made the heart stumble.
But at the bedside, his gaze held no warmth.
Ink‑dark light flowed through his pupils.
He idly stroked the air, and a smear of black radiance traced his hand’s path, condensing into an ink‑black blade.
Then he swung.
The stroke fell like lightning, yet it made no sound and stirred not a ripple.
Outside, a breeze slipped in and lifted strands of her golden hair. One long filament lifted and met the dark edge.
The instant it kissed the blade, the strand vanished into dust.
Gold burned to black powder and drifted away.
Ye Weibai didn’t even blink, and the cut kept falling.
The black edge neared her pale neck. She didn’t move, wearing a serene face.
Vmmm—!
At the last instant, he stopped.
“Still not coming out?” he murmured. “Do you not care about Aerin’s life? Or are you sure I won’t really swing?”
He flicked his wrist, and the black light unraveled and went out.
He turned and sat down.
He sat at her side and studied that clean, pretty face.
Honestly, Aerin wasn’t the stunning kind, but her features grew on you. She had blazing gold eyes and a lavish golden mane, yet nothing in her manner pressed people away. She didn’t feel untouchable.
A thought stirred—very different from that short‑haired golden boy from earlier. In fact, the title Hero King that crushed Aerin might fit that blond boy instead.
In temperament, and in strength.
Don’t be fooled by how easily Ye Weibai unraveled the boy’s charge; he’d already used far more than he did against the silver‑haired woman today.
By this world’s measure, that angry strike from the boy had reached Saint tier.
And he might not even have been serious. Could’ve been a casual swing.
Either way—
“He’s much stronger than you,” Ye Weibai sighed, watching Aerin suddenly grin at whatever dream had caught her.
Right then, as if the dream tugged a string, the girl stirred and opened her eyes with a soft whimper.
“Yo. Good evening.” No guilt at all at midnight in a girl’s room—his greeting was easy.
“M‑Master Bai…?” She rubbed her eyes, staring at him, blank with sleep.
Maybe he was too calm. Maybe she wasn’t awake. Her mind was empty of fear or shock, and she muttered, a little dazed, “Am… am I still dreaming?”
“Hm? Did you dream of me?” Ye Weibai asked, amused.
“Mm, mm— ah, no, I didn’t.” She nodded first, then flushed and denied it, then seemed to recall something. “Wait, I’m dreaming. Why would I be scared?”
“Right. You’re dreaming. Nothing to be scared of.” He let her tease a smile out of him and encouraged her seriously.
“Hmph. In dreams I’m unbeatable!” She huffed, slid a snow‑white arm from the covers, pressed two slender fingers together, then—
Smack—
She flicked his forehead.
“Hahahaha! Couldn’t dodge, could you? That’s for bullying me today! I’ll pay you back a hundredfold!”
She laughed wildly. Daylight must’ve really wound her up. She laughed harder, hugged the quilt, and rolled like a spring roll.
“Idiot Master Bai! Idiot Master Bai! You’re the big idiot! You called me an idiot so many times— hmph! You’re the real idiot!”
Ye Weibai watched her without expression as she cackled and rolled.
Like an idiot.
At some point, an ink‑black ruler appeared in his hand.
He was just about to show Aerin what reality feels like when the girl who kept chanting “idiot” suddenly wrapped her arms around him from behind.
Thud.
He felt the hug plain as a heartbeat; she was holding him hard, as if she could knead herself into him.
The laughter snapped like a string.
“So—”
Joy one heartbeat earlier. Now her voice dropped off a cliff. She pressed her forehead into his back, a kitten seeking comfort, and whispered, “I’m so tired, Master Bai.”
His raised hand stopped.
He listened in silence.
“Being the Hero King is so tiring…” her voice began to hitch.
“Everyone wants me to be the Hero King.”
“Everyone thinks once I pick up the sword, I’ll swing it. That I can learn any sword art at a glance… but I can’t.”
“I’m not a genius. I’m just ordinary… just someone ordinary, born by mistake into the Hero King’s family.”
“I do want to be what they expect… I am trying…”
“But…”
“I can’t.”
“I just… can’t.”
“I can’t, and yet I have to do it…”
“Can’t say I’m tired. Can’t cry. Can’t do anything.”
“Otherwise they make those faces… I’m sick of those faces. Literally sick. I threw up.”
Slowly, Ye Weibai felt something cold wet his back.
Her fingers knotted tight in his shirt.
“So, Master Bai… when you said this morning you could teach me to become the Hero King… I… I was so happy, so happy I could float— so, so, Master Bai…”
Even believing it was only a dream, she strangled her sobs. “Can I really become the Hero King?”
“…”
He held the silence for a long time before he spoke.
He didn’t answer her directly. He asked, “Aerin, do you truly want to become the Hero King?”
Even though it hurts. Even though you never wanted to chase it. Even so… will you choose it?
“…Yes. I want to be the Hero King.”
“Then, as you wish.”
The Demon King smiled. “I’ll help you become the Hero King.”
…
“Master Bai…”
“Mm?”
“Last night, I had a dream…”
Morning.
Clear skies.
At the far end of the table, the golden‑haired girl’s ponytail swayed. Under straight bangs, her eyes slid sideways, stealing glances at Ye Weibai.
He cut a meat roll, wrapped it in greens, dipped it in tomato, chewed and swallowed. Then he said, “So? You dreamed of me?”
“How did—” She gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth.
“How did what?”
“How did… you guess that.”
After hemming and hawing, Aerin forced a grin. “Master Bai, you’re so full of yourself.”
He looked at her, long enough to bead sweat on her forehead and make her hide behind her teacup.
He didn’t bother to puncture that brittle smile.
He had no intention of telling her what happened last night. Let her think it was only a dream.
“Eat. Then the training room. I’ll be there waiting.”
Her eyes lit at once, the old topic thrown away.
“Training room? You’ll teach me swordplay?”
He was already out of the dining hall when his lazy voice drifted back. “One hour of magic, every day. The clock starts now.”
“Eh?!!”
…
“Remember the task I gave you yesterday?”
“I remember, Master Bai.”
In the training room.
Three hundred square meters of floor, the ceiling knocked through two stories high.
Black stone underfoot. Weapon racks along the walls, packed with steel.
Wearing light armor and a ponytail, the girl stood ten meters from Ye Weibai, facing him.
“I know you want to smack my head.”
“I— I don’t.” Her smile went stiff. “Master Bai. I respect you.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Ye Weibai bared his teeth. “I don’t mind you getting one hit in.”
“Really?!” Aerin’s voice jumped. Then she met his smile and faltered. “I mean—”
“Save the excuses. Come, Aerin. If you can beat me.”
Ye Weibai turned his right hand.
At the gesture, a black iron sword on the rack whooshed from the wall and dropped obediently into his palm.
Swish.
He swept it once and held it to the side. “Beat me, and I’ll let you smack me.”
“But if you lose,” he said, a perfect curve of a smile, “I’ll blow your head off.”
Blow… blow it off?!
“…” A chill ran through her.
No way. No way I can beat Master Bai.
“What, scared?” He watched her, keen to the fear. “I’ll suppress my body to half your level, and I won’t use magic. Even then, you don’t dare?”
She bit her lip.
“If you can’t even draw your sword on me,” his face hardened, “do you really want to be the Hero King?”
The words Hero King snapped her straight. She shouted, “I do!!”
“Then draw!” Ye Weibai roared.
…
“Draw!”
“N— no—”
“Draw your sword! What are you thinking?!”
“N— don’t— I won’t—”
“And you call yourself the strongest Sword Deity? You won’t even draw?!”
“No— no— this is wrong!!!”
“Wrong? Don’t you get it? In this World there’s no right or wrong. Only doing or not doing. Do it, and you might save this so‑called World. Don’t, and we all die together.”
“No— there’ll be another way— there will—”
“Oh, there will— since you won’t draw, I’ll draw! I’ll do it for you, my— Hero King!”
—A conversation from the 9,120th Hero King and his companion.
…
