He was found half-buried in the shore’s silt, mud clinging like leeches.
When he woke, people crowded his bedside—kin, enemies, strangers—all faces a tide of staring eyes.
His wife knelt by the bed. Her worry pooled in her gaze, same as all the others.
He’d drifted alone for half a year. He came back alive. So many cared—how nice—yet warmth wouldn’t spark. Cold crept from toenails to hair roots.
Cold like carrion beasts closing in, breath hot, teeth bare.
...
...
Vmmm—!!!
A sharp, piercing hum tore off Augustine and raced down the boulevard, sweeping through a rain of Purple Blossoms, lashing straight at Ye Weibai.
Against the unseen wave, Ye Weibai lifted his right hand. In the next breath, gravity seemed to flip. Dirt, pebbles, petals all drifted up like dandelion fluff—even the surging soundwave.
Visible threads of distortion rippled in the air beside him.
They warped every incoming strike.
“Oh? Gravity control?” Augustine sounded amused. “I think I saw that on the 9010th [Demon King].”
The black [Demon King] said nothing. He simply looked at him.
“Then try this.” The white-haired elder reached right, gripped his dark-violet cane, yanked it free, and stabbed backhand—behind himself.
The void heaved. The cane slipped its leash on space, jumped to Ye Weibai’s back, and thrust from a sly, lethal angle.
A pitch-black longsword caught it.
Clang—!
Sparks burst like fireflies.
Withdrew, eyes narrowing, Augustine weighed him. The black [Demon King] had drawn a black blade from the void and flicked it back to block that tricky stab—without a blink, without a turn.
A small gesture, yet in that instant Augustine smelled a familiar scent from long ago.
“[Weapon Manifestation] and... [Danger Sense]...” he murmured. “From the 9530th and 9320th [Demon King], respectively. You—”
His gaze sharpened to a blade. He fixed Ye Weibai, finally serious. “—are stronger than all the [Demon Kings] before you. If you grow, even I might fail to kill you. We’d have to rely on this era’s [Hero King].”
Praise landed. Ye Weibai’s face didn’t shift. He watched the elder, stance tight as a strung bow.
They stared each other down.
A simple exchange, yet both smelled lethal threat—power sharp enough to cut life.
Especially Ye Weibai. Augustine’s strikes had failed, but he felt that was only the iceberg’s tip. The elder’s true strength hid under a wide, dark sea.
He could feel it—the old man housed a star.
This centuries-old [Hero King]—was anything but simple.
“Interesting.” Augustine’s mouth curled, slow as a knife being sheathed. “All this time, besides [It], you’re only the second to give me that feeling.”
“Oh? The other one—who?”
“Who?” A crooked smile. “Your partner this era—the 9679th [Hero King].”
“Aerin, huh.” Startled, Ye Weibai murmured.
“You don’t look surprised,” Augustine said, watching.
“I kind of sensed it. Not from seeing her power, but from feeling the [World]—[It]—grow wary of Aerin.”
“Wary...” The elder laughed softly. “Exactly. This era’s [Hero King] is growing too fast. Even [It] grew afraid. So [It] is suppressing her growth—just like [It] made the last [Hero King] and [Demon King] die together. [It] started to fear.”
“No.” The black [Demon King] shook his head. “With Aerin... [It] only went with the current. The only one who can lock you down is yourself.”
“Only... yourself?” Augustine’s eyes thinned. “You’re truly strange. Of all the [Demon Kings] I’ve met, you’re the strangest.”
“Oh?”
“The clearest tell is your arrival. Yes, I leaked news to hasten the [Demon King]’s appearance. But you came too fast. Stranger still, I have zero trace on your identity. A [Demon King] doesn’t appear from nothing. There’s always a real body, someone within this [World]. Yet you... feel like you came from another [World]. Before you became [Demon King], who were you?”
“Me?” Ye Weibai smiled. He enunciated each word. “I am—the [Demon King]—the one Aerin wished to see.”
Black hair lifted like silk in wind, pupils bright as wet ink. A pale smile hovered—under violet halos, the white turned glass-clear, the black pure.
“The... wished-for... [Demon King]?”
He rolled the words on his tongue. For no reason, chill. A thousand shards of [Hero King] memories spun and tried to lock. A terrifying, hazy conclusion flashed past. He shivered, and by reflex, he stopped his own thoughts from going further.
“Enough.”
Boom—!
His low word cracked like thunder. A gale burst off him, howling across the whole Purple Blossom grove.
Petals surged upwind, a sky of violet confetti dancing into a grand purple storm.
At its center, the elder straightened, vertebra by vertebra.
“Fine. Whatever you are—I’ll kill you.” Augustine’s murmur was cold, his eyes fixed with obsession. “Only by breaking the [Cycle]—can we see the [Truth].”
As he spoke, his white hair shed winter and darkened; the wrinkles faded between breaths. The frail elder’s frame filled out—time flowed backward through his flesh.
“Come. If seventy-six-year-old me couldn’t kill you, let’s see if sixty-year-old me can.”
Facing the [Demon King], Augustine’s voice boomed like storm. His face stayed calm as still water. His killing intent stood like a naked blade.
...
...
“I’ve got a good way. If we can’t raise strength purely, then we pass it on.”
“Huh?”
“Look—each [Hero King] tops out at a limit. [It] capped their climb. But—what if—”
“What if?”
“What if I pass my strength to the next generation?”
“Don’t get it.”
“Idiot. Generation after generation—if the torch keeps passing—one day the [Hero King] will break the ceiling [It] set. Become absurdly strong.”
“But... what’s the use? No matter how strong... it won’t beat [It].”
“No—don’t say that. If we keep going, one day—one day—we’ll make [It] feel fear. People... once they fear, they err.”
“You’re thinking too much. [It] isn’t human.”
“No. [It] isn’t, but [It] is condensed from human desire. It looks heartless, but [It] is more human than anyone. So—”
“So?”
“I’ll make [It] feel terror.”
—A conversation from the 7650th [Hero King] and his companion.
...
...
