Chapter 3 - 3

Under the thick night sky, Joonghyuk stood still for a moment. He felt a surge of mana that he recognized all too well, a vibration that pulled his soul to its deepest depths. However, as a man who had lived through hundreds of tragedies, he did not allow himself to be reckless. He suppressed the turmoil in his chest and chose to stay on the path he had laid out.

With quick steps, Joonghyuk met Lee Hyunsung at their temporary headquarters. Hyunsung, who was checking coordinate maps, immediately saluted upon seeing his captain arrive with the remnants of bloodstains that had not yet dried.

"Hyunsung," Joonghyuk called, his voice sounding heavier than usual. "Have the nobles who tried to flee been found?"

Hyunsung nodded firmly. "They have, captain. They were caught at the west gate while trying to disguise themselves as merchants. We have secured all of them in the dungeon."

Joonghyuk stared straight ahead, his eyes flashing coldly. "Good. Guard them strictly. Do not let a single one of them breathe outside a cell before dawn. Ensure they witness their last sunrise tomorrow morning."

"Understood, Captain," Hyunsung replied.

"And prepare the announcement for all the citizens of the capital immediately," Joonghyuk ordered without preamble. "Tomorrow morning, the execution of the Emperor by beheading will be carried out in the main square for the crime of treason against the people."

Hyunsung swallowed hard, his eyes widening. "Then... what about Pope Anthony?"

Joonghyuk turned his face toward the window, staring at the reddish glow from a distance coming from the cathedral that had begun to burn.

"Tell the public that the Pope was found dead mysteriously inside his burning prayer room. Call it a punishment from the heavens for the revealed sins of the church," Joonghyuk said coldly. "Use Seolhwa's influence as the Holy Healer to convince the people that this is the will of the gods."

"Understood!"

Despite the clear instructions, Joonghyuk felt something churning violently within him. The energy he felt earlier was not a mere shadow; it was an urgent call. He could not wait any longer. He needed to be at the border, at the place where Mia, Biyoo, and the mysterious Ahjussi were.

"I am leaving. Keep the plan stable."

Joonghyuk immediately concentrated his mana. He chanted a highly complex space-displacement spell, a high-level magic that instantly swapped the existence of two entities. He did not care who he pulled; what he needed was to go to the mana coordinates of that origin as quickly as possible.

In an instant, the air around them distorted. A golden light enveloped the room. On the other side, Uriel, who was currently patrolling the Northern border and sitting comfortably on a tree branch enjoying a cinnamon biscuit she had just bought, suddenly felt the world spin.

Wush!

Uriel landed very ineleganly. Instead of landing upright, she fell hard into a sitting position on top of a pile of documents. The biscuit she had just bitten into was thrown into the air, spun twice, and finally landed right on top of Lee Hyunsung's head as he was leaning over to tidy a report.

"Ouch! What on earth—" Uriel looked up, her words catching in her throat as she realized the aroma of cinnamon around her had changed to the smell of sweat and iron oil typical of a military barracks.

In front of her, Lee Hyunsung stood frozen. The large man looked like a stone statue with a round biscuit perched sweetly on the peak of his hair. Beside Hyunsung, Lee Jihye was sharpening her sword with an equally shocked expression.

"Uriel-ssi?" Hyunsung finally spoke, his tone between confused and horrified. The biscuit on his head wobbled along with the movement of his lips.

Uriel blinked, looking at her hand which now only held crumbs, then at her biscuit colonizing the top of Hyunsung's head. Her face slowly turned a deep crimson.

"Ahhhh, that damn captain!" Uriel cursed while shaking her fist at the air, ignoring her dignity as an elite soldier. "He swapped me like a piece of merchandise! At least let me swallow my biscuit first, you heartless captain!"

"The captain did look very rushed, Uriel-ssi..." Hyunsung tried to soothe her while slowly taking the biscuit from his head. "And please, watch your language. There is a minor here."

"A minor?" Uriel turned sharply toward Jihye, who had just arrived and was now holding back a laugh. "Oh, this disciple who always follows the captain like a chick who lost its mother?"

"What did you say!?" Jihye immediately stood up, pointing at Uriel with her whetstone. "I am not a chick! I am studying high-level strategy! And at least I didn't fall from the sky like a sack of rice while crying over a cheap biscuit!"

"Cheap biscuit?! This is a limited edition biscuit from the shop at the border! It takes strong mana to get there, you brat!" Uriel stood up, dusting off her pants with emotion. "You wouldn't understand because your taste is only that bland ration soup!"

"Please, do not argue!" Hyunsung tried to intervene by spreading his large hands between them.

---

Meanwhile, at the frozen border, Joonghyuk now stood right in front of the door of his house. He took a breath, then pushed the wooden door until it hit the wall, creating a thudding sound that echoed through the room. His golden eyes swept every corner quickly, searching for the figure whose energy had just exploded in his senses.

However, the room was empty. There was only Yoo Mia sitting near the fireplace with a pale face from shock, and Biyoo who was busy playing with her small fingers on the rug.

A gripping silence enveloped the two of them. Joonghyuk still stood at the threshold, his breath slightly ragged, while the remnants of the mana aroma he recognized so well still hung thinly in the air—cold, yet feeling like home.

"Who was here just now, Mia?" Joonghyuk's voice sounded heavy and demanding.

Mia flinched, nervously clutching the hem of her clothes. She did not dare to look into her brother's eyes, which looked so intimidating. "What do you mean, Oppa? There has been no one here. Only Biyoo and I have been here this whole time."

Joonghyuk stepped inside, approaching the wooden chair near the window that still felt slightly warm. He knew Mia was lying. He knew his sister was hiding something, or someone. The aura was too real to be called traceless. Kim Dokja's presence still lingered there, as if the man had just evaporated into thin air a moment before the door opened.

"Do not lie to me, Mia," Joonghyuk said again, this time softer but with a piercing emphasis.

Mia shook her head vigorously, her eyes beginning to tear up from the pressure of her brother's aura. "Really, Oppa! There was no one. Maybe you are just exhausted from the journey from the capital."

Joonghyuk stared at his sister for a long time, seeing the fear and the determination in Mia's eyes to protect the secret of the Ahjussi. His clenched hands slowly began to loosen. He could have used his power to force Mia to talk, or traced the mana remnants in the room, but he did not.

He let out a very heavy sigh, a sound loaded with despair and profound exhaustion. He realized one painful thing: he was one step too slow.

Dokja was intentionally avoiding him. The man was here, watching him but refusing to show himself. Finally, Joonghyuk walked to the chair and sat there, resting his head on his palm. The warm room suddenly felt very cold to him. He felt like a hunter chasing a shadow in the middle of a blizzard; the closer he got, the further the shadow disappeared.

"I see," Joonghyuk whispered softly, barely audible.

Mia could only stay silent seeing the sadness implied on her brother's face, while Biyoo suddenly crawled toward Joonghyuk's boots, as if trying to comfort him in silence.

With a long breath to calm the turmoil in his chest, Joonghyuk turned his gaze downward. There, Biyoo was looking at him with clear, round eyes, as if she could read the storm raging inside the soul of the demi-god.

Joonghyuk stepped closer. Fortunately, just before he used the space-displacement magic from the capital earlier, he had managed to cast a high-level cleansing spell. His robes and shirt, which were originally drenched in blood, were now clean without a stain, and the pungent smell of metallic blood had been replaced by the neutral cold scent of snow. He did not want the hands that had just taken lives to frighten this innocent little creature.

He leaned over, and with a movement that was unexpectedly very gentle, he lifted Biyoo from the rug.

Joonghyuk sat back in the wooden chair, placing Biyoo on his lap. Upon feeling the warmth from that small body, the tension in Joonghyuk's shoulders slowly relaxed. Biyoo, as if feeling the change in aura around Joonghyuk, suddenly pulled at the bridge of Joonghyuk's nose with her tiny hands and giggled.

"Ba-ba!" The sound of small laughter filled the room, breaking the stiff atmosphere that had been created.

Seeing Biyoo so happy, Joonghyuk unconsciously pulled the corner of his lips into a very thin, nearly invisible smile. He stroked Biyoo's head with his thumb, letting the divine baby's laughter be the antidote for his exhaustion after slaughtering the traitors at the palace.

Mia, who had been holding her breath, finally exhaled in relief seeing that sight. She approached slowly, sitting beside her brother while watching Biyoo, who was now busy pulling at the buttons of Joonghyuk's shirt.

"She really likes you, Oppa," Mia murmured softly, her voice now returning to normal. "All day she kept staring at the door, as if she knew you were coming home."

That night, the wooden house at the border became a place of tranquility in the midst of the political storm that was devastating the empire. Joonghyuk sat silently in front of the crackling fireplace, cradling Biyoo who began to fall asleep with her tiny hand tightly gripping his shirt. Mia rested her head on Joonghyuk's shoulder, slowly drifting into the dream world. For a few short hours, peace reigned.

Once Mia and Biyoo's breathing sounded regular in their deep sleep, Joonghyuk slowly moved Biyoo into Mia's embrace on the bed. He covered them gently, looking at his sister's face for one last time before he had to become a monster again.

With a snap of his fingers, shadows enveloped his body. The space-displacement magic brought him back to the heart of the capital exactly as the streaks of dawn light began to split the grey sky.

The capital was no longer asleep. The main square was filled with thousands of citizens carrying anger that had been frozen for years. In the middle of the square, a giant wooden platform with a guillotine blade shining under the morning sun stood tall.

Joonghyuk stepped onto the stage in his new formal robes, the emperor's seal glinting on his finger. Below him, rows of knights led by Hyunsung guarded the rows of captives whose faces were covered with black cloth.

"Uncover them," Joonghyuk ordered, his voice booming through the help of mana, silencing the roar of the crowd.

One by one, the faces of the old rulers were revealed. The Emperor, who now looked like a living corpse, trembled with fear as he saw the crowd of people demanding his life. Beside him, the high nobles captured while fleeing bowed their heads in dejection.

There, Uriel as the reader read the scrolls of indictment in a bone-chilling tone.

"Today, history will record the end of betrayal," Uriel said. "The Emperor is charged with abuse of power, letting the people starve for the sake of palace luxury, and performing indecent acts that insulted the dignity of the empire on the night of the formation feast."

She glanced toward the whimpering nobles.

"And for you, the nobles... the death penalty is handed down for conspiracy to embezzle public funds, illegal cooperation with the church to oppress the border regions, and the attempt to flee with state assets while the people were suffering. You have sold the future of this nation without taking an ounce of responsibility."

The people cheered hysterically, shouting the word 'death' repeatedly. The air pressure in the square became very heavy. Joonghyuk raised his hand, signaling the executioners to prepare.

"Execute," Joonghyuk ordered flatly.

The sound of the first guillotine blade falling broke the silence of dawn, marking the end of an era and the beginning of Yoo Joonghyuk's iron-fisted rule.

The pale morning sun shone on the square now drenched in blood. On the execution stage, Lee Seolhwa stepped forward with her holy white robes fluttering in the wind. As the Holy Healer most respected by the people and the church, her presence provided an undeniable spiritual legitimacy.

Seolhwa raised her hands, calming the thunderous cheers of the people who were still bloodthirsty. She turned briefly to Joonghyuk, who stood stiffly beside the temporary throne, then she looked out at the masses.

"People of the empire! Today, darkness has been beheaded from its roots," Seolhwa exclaimed with a clear yet firm voice. "This vacuum of the throne must not be allowed to become a hole of destruction. Through the agreement of the council and the blessing of those who still remain loyal to the truth, the figure who has saved us from the emperor's tyranny and the pope's rot will take over the helm."

Seolhwa knelt on one knee before Joonghyuk. "From this second, Yoo Joonghyuk is our supreme ruler. He is the one who will lead us into a new era!"

In the front row of the spectators, the remaining nobles, those smart enough not to flee, bowed deeply with deathly pale faces. Not a single one of them dared to raise their voice in protest. They had all felt the crushing mana pressure when Joonghyuk visited their residences secretly last night. Joonghyuk's threat was very clear: submit, or their heads would follow the emperor's under the guillotine.

One by one, important positions in the empire began to be totally restructured. Joonghyuk did not allow a single remnant of the old regime to survive. Uriel, who had just returned with an annoyed face after the ginger biscuit incident, now stood on the right side as the Head of Internal Affairs and Holy Security, replacing the position of the dead pope. Lee Hyunsung, with unshakable loyalty, was appointed as the Duke of the Northern region, replacing the previously executed Duke; he now also led the remaining soldiers who were under a blood oath to Joonghyuk.

Meanwhile, Lee Jihye received the title of Countess, replacing Countess Lee who was involved in the Pope's plan.

In just one dawn, the power structure of the empire had changed completely. Corrupt nobles who were once arrogant were now replaced by Joonghyuk's trusted confidants.

Joonghyuk sat on the high seat above the stage, looking toward the crowd of people who were now cheering and worshipping his name. However, his eyes remained as cold as ice. To him, this throne and power were merely tools. A grand tool he would use to mobilize all the resources of this world for a single purpose.

He turned the emperor's ring on his finger, his eyes staring sharply toward the horizon.

"Now," Joonghyuk muttered, "it is over."

. . .

That night, the capital that was usually gripping turned into a sea of light. Giant lanterns were flown into the sky, and the aroma of roasted meat and the best wine filled the air. The people feasted in the streets, celebrating the end of the era of hunger and tyranny with dances and earth-shaking cheers. A new era had arrived, and to them, Yoo Joonghyuk was a savior descended from the heavens.

Inside the grand hall of the magnificent palace, the atmosphere felt much more formal yet laden with hidden tension. Yoo Joonghyuk sat on a high throne that now felt far more intimidating. He wore a black robe with striking gold thread embroidery, radiating the aura of an absolute ruler.

Beside him, Lee Seolhwa stood gracefully wearing a shimmering silver-white gown. Her presence gave a soft impression that balanced the sharpness of Joonghyuk's aura, making the pair look like the perfect embodiment of strength and purity.

The remaining nobles lined up in an orderly fashion to give greetings and congratulations, each also trying to gain favor before the new ruler. Those who once worshipped the old emperor were now competing to give sky-high praise.

"Truly, Your Majesty Joonghyuk is the dawn we have been waiting for," said an old Baron while bowing so low that his forehead nearly touched the floor. "This empire has never looked this strong before."

"Quite right," added a Countess with a forced smile. "And the presence of Lady Seolhwa by your side... truly a blessed sight. You two are the pillars that will bring us toward eternal prosperity."

Praise after praise flowed like a flood. Those nobles spoke as if they had been Joonghyuk's loyal supporters from the beginning, hiding their fear behind sweet words. They knew very well that behind Joonghyuk's calm face lay a power that could erase their entire lineage with a single snap of his fingers.

Joonghyuk only listened with a flat gaze. To him, their words were nothing more than the buzzing of annoying flies. He did not respond to a single compliment, only giving an occasional small nod that made those nobles break out in a cold sweat because they did not know what was in their new leader's mind.

Seolhwa occasionally glanced at Joonghyuk, trying to read his expression. She also helped to break the somewhat grim atmosphere between Joonghyuk and the other nobles.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of harp music and the fake laughter of the nobles, Joonghyuk gripped his wine chalice tightly. In his eyes, the magnificence of this party meant nothing compared to the silence of the house at the border. He allowed this party to proceed for only one reason: to ensure the eyes of the entire world were focused here, while he secretly prepared his next step.

"Drink a little, Joonghyuk-ssi," Seolhwa whispered softly, trying to lighten the mood. "The people are very happy tonight."

Joonghyuk only stared at the red liquid in his chalice, then lifted the cup and swallowed it until it was finished.

In a corner of the magnificent hall, Lee Hyunsung stood as straight as a mountain in silver armor that reflected the candlelight. Beside him, Uriel repeatedly kicked the floor with her agonizing high-heeled shoes, while Lee Jihye stood leaning against a pillar with her arms crossed, looking very bored with the palace formalities.

"Uriel-ssi, please maintain your posture. All the eyes of the nobles are watching us," Hyunsung whispered with his typical fatherly tone.

Uriel snorted, her face pouting. "You sound just like an old man. My feet are sore wearing these shoes! And look at those butter biscuits over there; they look so lonely. I must save them."

Hyunsung took a heavy breath, gently patting Uriel's shoulder. In his eyes, Uriel, who was only 20, was like a very naughty little sister. "Hold on for a little longer. You are now a high-ranking official, no longer a wild mercenary. Weren't you once a noble? You should be quite used to this... besides, I am getting too old; my heart can't handle you making a scene in front of the captain... ah... I mean, His Majesty the Emperor."

Uriel laughed softly, nudging Hyunsung's muscular arm. "Hahaha! Look at your face; you look so old when you worry like that. Fine, Grandpa Hyunsung, I will be quiet for the sake of your honor."

"And you, Jihye-ya," Hyunsung turned toward the teenage girl on the other side. "Stop playing with your sword hilt. This is a ball, not a martial arts tournament."

Jihye rolled her eyes lazily. "Ah, Uncle Hyunsung, the atmosphere here is too stiff! These people dressed like peacocks make me nauseous. Why won't Master let me go outside and train with the guards?"

"Because you are the Emperor's direct disciple, Jihye," Uriel interjected with a naughty grin. "You have to look elegant, even though you'd rather be wallowing in the mud of a battlefield."

"Hey! At least I didn't cry over butter biscuits like someone who claims to be an elite soldier!" Jihye shot back quickly, making Uriel glare in offense.

Hyunsung could only shake his head seeing the two begin to argue, but a thin smile appeared on his stiff face. He shifted his gaze toward the large window showing the palace courtyard.

"But... you know," Hyunsung's voice softened, this time full of sincerity. "I am truly grateful. I never expected to see a day where the people could laugh this freely."

Uriel and Jihye went silent at the same time. They both looked out at the joy out there. The light of fireworks occasionally illuminated the night sky, reflecting in their eyes.

"True," Uriel replied softly, losing her joking tone. "All our sacrifices over the last six months... it feels worth it today. This empire is finally back in the right hands."

Jihye looked down for a moment, stroking a small scar on the back of her hand. "Master might look like a monster without feelings, but at least he gave this world a chance to breathe again. I will make sure no one ruins this peace ever again."

Uriel looked toward the north, toward the border that had been ignored and left to rot in poverty by the old regime.

"I promise," Uriel said with a very serious tone. "Under Captain Joonghyuk's leadership and our supervision, there will be no more forgotten territories. No more poor areas left to starve while the palace feasts. We will build everything back up."

Hyunsung nodded firmly, looking at the two girls with overflowing pride. "Yes. We will start from the border. Tomorrow will be a busy day for all of us."

Jihye smirked, finally releasing her grip on her sword. "In that case, let's eat those butter biscuits before Master comes and tells us to train until we die."

"Agreed!" Uriel exclaimed joyfully, while Hyunsung could only resignedly let them raid the food tray.

. . .

The atmosphere inside the hall suddenly went silent as the silver trumpet was blown, signaling the start of the new emperor's inauguration procession. All the nobles simultaneously knelt, creating the sound of rustling silk filling the room. Hyunsung and Uriel immediately straightened their bodies, giving the most solemn respect. Yoo Joonghyuk performed well. The inauguration as an Emperor went smoothly. After everyone shouted 'long live the emperor', the party finally began with great fanfare.

However, only a few minutes after the nobles began to busy themselves with the party, Joonghyuk descended from the podium and walked straight toward the corner where Hyunsung and Uriel were.

"Hyunsung, Uriel," Joonghyuk's voice was low but undeniable.

"Ready, Your Majesty," Hyunsung answered with a perfect stance.

"Maintain stability here. Ensure these noble rats do not act up during the celebration. I must leave right now; there is business that cannot be delayed," Joonghyuk said without preamble. His eyes glinted, showing that his mind was already hundreds of miles away from this party.

Hyunsung, who was already used to his captain's impulsive nature regarding urgent matters, immediately nodded firmly. "Leave it to us, Your Majesty. I will ensure security remains under control until dawn."

Meanwhile, Uriel could only gape. Her mouth was slightly open, and her eyes bulged in disbelief. She was just about to protest that the party had only just begun and they needed the Emperor to stay there for diplomatic formalities.

"Wait, captain! You can't just leave on the night of your own coronation! What about—"

Before Uriel could finish her sentence, Joonghyuk had already turned and walked quickly toward the secret door behind a pillar. His robe fluttered for a moment before his figure disappeared, swallowed by the shadows. He left without even waiting for Uriel's approval or complaints.

Uriel remained frozen with her hand stretched out in the air. "He... he really left? In the middle of his coronation party?"

Lee Jihye patted the still-shocked Uriel's shoulder. "Forget it, Uriel-ssi. You know yourself that if Master has sensed something, no one can stop him. Let's do our part."

Uriel took a long breath.

. . .

The Demon Realm was always shrouded by a deep purple sky and the sharp scent of sulfur, a stark contrast to the snowy border. Kim Dokja stepped through the gates of his castle with the remnants of the cold still clinging to his white robe. However, the temperature inside the main hall felt much hotter, and it wasn't because of the fireplace.

Han Sooyoung was already standing there, leaning her back against a large table full of magic scrolls. Her eyes narrowed sharply, staring at Dokja who looked increasingly pale and fragile after his journey to the human world.

"You really have a death wish, don't you?" Sooyoung's voice broke the silence, sharp yet trembling with suppressed anxiety.

Dokja only took a breath, his hand unconsciously stroking his stomach which was beginning to give a churning sensation. "I am only fulfilling the needs of this baby, Sooyoung-ah."

"Without telling anyone and just leaving like that?" Sooyoung walked closer, her aura exploding with anger. However, as soon as she saw how weak Dokja was, her shoulders slumped. She couldn't truly yell at the foolish man in front of her.

Sooyoung knew exactly how much Dokja was suffering. As a demon carrying a seed, Dokja's physical condition was naturally very unstable. The baby in his womb instinctively sought the presence of the father's mana to feel comfortable. That was the reason why Dokja always felt calmer when at that house, a house that had been soaked for years in Joonghyuk's thick aura. The mana left there was both nutrition and a sedative for the growing fetus.

"You know I hate the human world," Dokja murmured, his voice nearly gone. "But this child... he constantly calls for that energy. I have no choice."

Sooyoung snorted in annoyance, but her hand moved to pull a chair so Dokja could sit. "I know that. What makes me angry is that you went alone without telling me! You are carrying that bastard's child, Dokja. A baby carried by a demon king usually sucks the mana of that demon king every second. If you run out of energy in human territory, who will protect you?"

Sooyoung looked at Dokja with an unreadable gaze. She was very worried. She knew Dokja was trying hard not to involve Joonghyuk, to distance himself from that bloody imperial conflict. However, the blood bond between the baby and Joonghyuk was something that could not be severed by any magic.

"Joonghyuk returned to that house last night," Dokja said suddenly.

Sooyoung went silent for a moment, then she massaged her temples. "And you ran away just before he broke down the door, right?"

"It's better than him finding me in this state," Dokja replied while looking down, staring at his own stomach.

Sooyoung took a long breath, took a thick blanket, and draped it over Dokja's shoulders. "Listen, next time you have a 'craving' for Joonghyuk's mana, tell me. I will make sure you don't die on the road. I don't want my nephew to be born without a stubborn mother like you."

Dokja smiled thinly, feeling a bit of warmth from his friend's rough concern. But deep in his heart, he knew that the energy pressure he felt at the border yesterday was a sign that Joonghyuk would not stop looking for him.

'he found me...'

.

.

.

.

.The sun in the demon realm never truly rose, but the purple glow on the horizon signaled that a new day had begun. This was the same day as the execution of the emperor in the human world, but for Kim Dokja, time seemed to move slower inside his silent castle.

Dokja was in the grand library, surrounded by thousands of ancient books whose scent calmed his strained nerves. He tried to focus on working through several regional documents, but his hands more often ended up resting on his own stomach. He rubbed it slowly, feeling the faint, small movements from within—a life that was very demanding yet also very much loved.

Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps broke the silence of the library.

Two small figures appeared from behind a large bookshelf. Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung, two dragon children who possessed powerful auras, but currently, their faces were filled only with curiosity and concern. They both immediately approached Dokja, ignoring the stack of documents the man was working on.

Gilyoung was the first to arrive; he immediately stood in front of Dokja's feet and stared at the man's stomach with sparkling eyes. "Dokja-hyung, is it kicking again today?"

Yoosung followed beside him, placing a small pillow she had brought from the living room so Dokja could lean back more comfortably. "Gilyoung, don't get too close. Ahjussi is tired."

Dokja smiled softly seeing their behavior. These two dragon children were among the few people in the demon realm who knew his big secret. They had sworn on the honor of the dragon race not to leak Dokja's pregnancy to anyone, especially to outsiders who might target his slightly fragile position.

"It is calm today," Dokja answered quietly while taking a deep breath. "Maybe because it knows you both came."

Gilyoung slowly reached out his hand, asking for permission with his eyes to touch Dokja's stomach. Once Dokja nodded, the boy pressed his palm very carefully, as if he were touching the most precious glassware in the world.

"I will protect it, Hyung," Gilyoung whispered with a tone that was very serious for a child his age. "If any bad people try to approach, I will burn them with my dragon fire."

Yoosung nodded in agreement, sitting on the floor beside Dokja's chair. "Me too. We have already strengthened the surveillance around the nobles. No one will know about the existence of this little sibling."

Dokja felt a warmth spreading through his chest. In the midst of his faint, chaotic memories and the fear of the past that haunted him, the presence of Yoosung and Gilyoung was an anchor that kept him sane. They did not see him as a weak demon, but rather as family who must be protected.

"Hyung, I brought this protective insect! It will detect if the baby inside feels uncomfortable," Gilyoung said proudly while holding out a shiny horned beetle toward Dokja's stomach.

Dokja flinched back, his hand instinctively protecting his stomach. "Gilyoung-ah, I appreciate your intention, but I don't think this baby needs an insect guard right now."

"See! What did I tell you," Yoosung chimed in while nudging Gilyoung's shoulder. "Dokja-ahjussi needs nutrition, not your weird insect. Ahjussi, eat this peach. I have washed it a thousand times so there isn't a single speck of dust."

Yoosung offered a plate containing peach slices that were cut very neatly—too neatly, to the point where they looked more like a work of art than food.

"One peach is not enough to fight my army!" Gilyoung exclaimed, not wanting to be outdone.

"That army of yours will only make Dokja-ahjussi ticklish!" Yoosung shot back.

Dokja could only massage his temples seeing the two of them begin to argue. "Both of you, calm down a little. This baby might get a headache listening to you."

Instantly, the two dragon children went completely silent. They glanced at each other, then in unison pressed their ears against Dokja's stomach.

"Sorry, little baby. Don't listen to the weird Gilyoung," Yoosung whispered in a very sweet tone.

"Hey! Don't listen to the chatty Yoosung, okay," Gilyoung added.

Dokja could no longer hold back a small laugh. He felt like he was babysitting three children at once now. However, that laughter stopped when Gilyoung suddenly looked up with a very serious face.

"Hyung, if the baby is naughty later, can I bite it just a little bit so it becomes more polite like you?" Gilyoung asked innocently.

Dokja nearly choked on his own saliva. "Gilyoung, no one is allowed to bite anyone here!"

Yoosung nodded in agreement with a wise face. "That's right, Gilyoung. We shouldn't bite it. We just need to lock it in the dragon cave."

Dokja could only take a long breath, leaning back in his chair with a resigned smile. "You two are really something..."

Time continued to pass as Dokja chewed the last slice of the peach given by Yoosung while observing the two children in front of him. A sudden thought crossed his mind, making him stop chewing for a moment.

"Wait a minute," Dokja put the small plate on the table. "Don't you both have an advanced transformation magic class with Sooyoung today? Why are you busy fighting for space here instead?"

Hearing that question, Yoosung and Gilyoung suddenly froze. They stared at each other for a few seconds, as if communicating via telepathy to coordinate an answer.

"That..." Yoosung began with a forced smile. "Sooyoung-unnie said she has urgent business to attend to since this morning. So urgent that she said today's class is canceled."

Gilyoung nodded quickly, his face returning to his signature flat mode. "Yes, Hyung. She said, 'Just find Dokja and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.' So, we are off duty and officially your private guards today."

Dokja could only nod slowly hearing that explanation. "Urgent business, huh? It's rare for that woman not to grumble before leaving."

Dokja rubbed his stomach again, this time with a more protective movement. Yoosung, realizing the change in Dokja's expression, immediately held the man's hand. "Don't think about it, Dokja-ahjussi. Unnie must be handling something boring. It's better if Ahjussi rests again."

Dokja smiled thinly, trying to calm himself for the sake of the baby he was carrying. However, his eyes still occasionally glanced toward the library door, hoping the short-haired figure with the annoying smirk would appear and say that everything was fine.

. . .

The night at the border felt much colder than usual. Strong winds swept through the snow until visibility became limited. Yoo Joonghyuk landed with a soft thud on a pile of snow, his magnificent imperial robe still fluttering in the storm.

He did not care about the coronation party or the confused looks of the nobles he had left behind. His senses were focused on only one thing: a very strong surge of mana. That mana felt dark, wild, yet possessed a trace he knew very well.

Demon Mana.

"Kim Dokja..." Joonghyuk whispered, his voice hoarse.

His hands clenched tightly. He was certain this was him. With speed that was nearly impossible, Joonghyuk sped toward the source of that energy, right at a hidden cliff that bordered directly on the dimensional crack of the demon realm.

However, when he reached it, his steps suddenly stopped.

Standing in the middle of the raging blizzard, a woman in a short black robe stood firm with her arms crossed. Her short dark hair fluttered roughly, covering part of her face which looked sour.

It was Han Sooyoung.

Seeing that the figure standing before him was not the man he was looking for, Joonghyuk's pace halted. His gaze remained as sharp as a sword, sweeping the surroundings warily.

Sooyoung gave a crooked smile full of contempt. "What? Are you disappointed? Did you think the one standing here was Kim Dokja?"

Joonghyuk did not answer. He remained standing tall, letting his imperial robe be battered by the cold wind. His face was as calm as the surface of a frozen lake, but the aura around him was highly pressing, causing the snow beneath his feet to slowly evaporate from the heat of his suppressed mana.

Seeing Joonghyuk's calmness only made Sooyoung's annoyance peak. She stepped forward, her boots crunching the snow roughly until she stood right in front of the new emperor.

Sooyoung pointed her index finger at Joonghyuk's chest, trembling with rage. "I am warning you, don't you ever try to approach him again. If I see you wandering near his energy range, I myself will make sure you regret ever being born into this world, regardless of your useless emperor status."

To Sooyoung, Joonghyuk was the symbol of misfortune for Dokja. She truly hated seeing how calm Joonghyuk was, while Dokja inside that castle had to struggle to hold back shattered memories and a weak pregnancy.

"Go away from here," Sooyoung ordered with a truly lethal gaze. "Go back to your palace and deal with those stupid nobles. Let him live in peace without the shadows of the past you bring."

Sooyoung stepped closer again, her gaze now turning extremely sharp, piercing right into Joonghyuk's pupils. "Listen, Yoo Joonghyuk. Don't you ever dream of returning to Kim Dokja's side. You betrayed him once six hundred years ago, and now you are doing it again. Do you think he doesn't know? I know that back then and now you are just the same, always betraying Dokja with another woman by your side."

Hearing that, Joonghyuk murmured softly, his voice nearly swallowed by the night wind. "It seems Kim Dokja told you everything."

"He doesn't need to say much for me to know what a bastard you are," Sooyoung replied sharply. She spat to the side, a clear sign of disgust. "Don't you ever dare show your face in front of him again. Once was enough for him to be destroyed because of you."

Sooyoung turned her body, her black robe fluttering roughly as she prepared to disappear into the dimensional crack beginning to open before her. She was no longer willing to breathe the same air as that man.

"I am leaving. And remember, don't ever look for him again," Sooyoung said without looking back.

"Wait," Joonghyuk's voice interrupted, heavy and full of emphasis.

Sooyoung's steps stopped; she turned with a stiff movement, staring at Joonghyuk with a very annoyed face. She was ready to hurl one last insult before truly leaving, but the sentence that came out of Joonghyuk's mouth instead made her freeze in place.

"Did... Kim Dokja ever have a child before? Six hundred years ago?"

Joonghyuk's voice sounded very low, almost like a whisper full of doubt. His sharp eyes stared at Sooyoung, searching for an answer to the puzzle that until now had only been fragments of nightmares and nonsensical premonitions to him.

Sooyoung's eyes widened. Her mouth opened slightly, and for a moment, she lost her sarcastic words. She stared at Joonghyuk with a gaze that was difficult to interpret, a mixture of pure shock and disbelief.

So, all this time, this bastard truly did not know?

Sooyoung felt her chest throb with pain. She saw Joonghyuk's face, which looked so thirsty for answers, a face that showed no signs of lying. Joonghyuk's ignorance about the baby lost 600 years ago felt like a hard slap to Sooyoung. How was it possible that the man who was the reason Dokja shattered into pieces actually did not realize what had been missing from his own life?

"You..." Sooyoung hissed, her hands clenching so tightly that her knuckles turned white. "You are asking me about that now? After six hundred years?"

Sooyoung laughed, but this time her voice sounded very bitter and broken. She did not expect that Joonghyuk's neglect in the past was so deep that he did not even notice Dokja's pregnancy back then.

"Yoo Joonghyuk, you truly are the most disgusting monster," Sooyoung said in a very cold tone, far more lethal than the blizzard surrounding them. "If you don't even know what you destroyed back then, you are truly unworthy of mentioning his name ever again."

Joonghyuk froze seeing Sooyoung's explosive reaction. He saw an anger that was not just born of hate, but an anger from a very deep pain. Inside his head, fragments of memories of Dokja always crying in the middle of the night 600 years ago began to resurface in an agonizing way.

Sooyoung looked at Joonghyuk with a demeaning gaze, as if the man in front of her was nothing more than a pile of worthless trash. She could have screamed the truth right now. She could have crushed Joonghyuk's heart with the fact that the man had killed his own child through neglect and betrayal in the past.

However, Dokja's face, sleeping soundly with a hand holding his stomach in the demon realm castle, suddenly crossed her mind. This matter, let her friend settle it himself. This time Sooyoung gave in and took a long breath, suppressing all her anger into the deepest corners of her heart.

"Do not try to seek sympathy through trash questions like that," Sooyoung said with a voice that returned to being flat and very cold. "If you do not know the answer by now, it means you never truly cared from the beginning. And that is enough to explain why you must stay away."

Joonghyuk wanted to step forward, wanting to demand a clearer answer, but Sooyoung's mana pressure suddenly expanded, creating a dense barrier wall.

Without giving Joonghyuk a chance to reply, Sooyoung disappeared completely. The dimensional crack closed with a soft thudding sound, leaving a gripping silence at the peak of the snowy cliff.

Joonghyuk stood frozen there. Snow began to cover his shoulders, yet he did not move an inch. Sooyoung's question earlier, about being the only one who remembered the pain, kept spinning in his head like a storm.

He clenched his fist until fresh blood dripped from his palm, staining the pure white snow. A tightness he had never felt before hit his chest. He did not know for sure what happened 600 years ago, but Sooyoung's reaction just now provided more than enough of an answer.

"Dokja..." Joonghyuk murmured, his voice breaking in the middle of the night wind.

Meanwhile, inside the demon realm castle, Sooyoung appeared panting for breath. She leaned against the cold wall, trying to calm her racing heart. She immediately walked toward Dokja's room, ensuring the man was still sleeping without the disturbance of nightmares.

Joonghyuk was still kneeling on the frozen snow. His eyes stared blankly toward the darkness of the border forest. The pain was so deep that his tears could not even flow; all that remained was a vacuum sucking in his entire soul. He felt as if his entire victory in the capital was nothing but a meaningless, grand joke.

With stiff movements, Joonghyuk stood up. He no longer cared about the storm. He performed a final teleportation that night, directly into the wooden house at the border. He stepped inside without a sound. In the room warmed by the fireplace, he saw Mia sitting on the rug, laughing softly while teasing Biyoo, who was crawling and trying to catch her sister's toes.

Joonghyuk's heart still felt empty, a vast black hole, yet his feet carried him closer. He sat between them without saying a single word. Mia looked up, surprised to see her brother return so quickly with a very pale face. "Oppa? You're back already?"

Joonghyuk did not answer. He only reached out his trembling hands, then pulled Mia and Biyoo into his embrace simultaneously. He held them very tightly, hiding his face between Mia's shoulder and Biyoo's tiny head. He hugged them as if, if he let go even a little, the world would once again snatch away these pieces of his soul.

Joonghyuk would also not let them stay at this silent border anymore; he could not let this village be closed off from access just because of his ego.

Without waiting for dawn to fully break, Joonghyuk ordered preparations for their move. He took Mia and Biyoo through space, directly to the heart of the imperial palace in the capital.

Mia stood frozen in the middle of the magnificent main hall. Her eyes widened, staring at the towering marble pillars and the ceiling decorated with gold paintings. She was still wearing her simple clothes from the border, a sharp contrast to the luxury surrounding her now.

"Oppa... this... what is this place?" Mia whispered with a trembling voice. She felt like she had entered an unreal fairy tale land.

Joonghyuk did not answer with words. He was carrying Biyoo against his chest, letting the baby lean against his black armor which had now been cleaned. Biyoo looked calm, her tiny hands playing with the gold chain hanging from Joonghyuk's neck, unaware that she had just been moved to the center of world power.

"From today on, this is your home, Mia," Joonghyuk said flatly but firmly. "Both of you are princesses of this empire. No one will ever dare to touch you again."

Joonghyuk stepped forward along the long palace corridor toward the main balcony, followed by Mia who walked hesitantly beside him. The servants and knights they passed simultaneously knelt, bowing their heads deeply as the Emperor passed with his family.

Mia felt very awkward and afraid seeing so many people bowing in respect before them, but she felt safe seeing her brother's broad back. Joonghyuk kept walking, carrying Biyoo with one hand while the other occasionally ensured Mia stayed by his side. In his eyes, this throne meant nothing if he could not provide a proper place for them. However, behind that stiff face, Joonghyuk knew that Mia and Biyoo's new status as imperial princesses was only the first step.

The emperor then stood in the middle of the cold throne hall, his voice echoing as he commanded Hyunsung and Uriel with a tone that accepted no refusal. "Prepare everything. The best rooms in the right wing of the palace for Mia and Biyoo. Ensure the guard never slackens for a single second. From this day on, they are the highest priority of this empire."

Hyunsung nodded firmly with a fist to his chest, while Uriel, although still annoyed from being left at the party the other day, immediately moved fast to prepare every luxury the human world could offer for the two princesses.

For the next week, the palace turned into a very busy place. Uriel brought the best silk dresses and gem-encrusted toys for Biyoo nearly every hour. Mia began to get used to palace life, walking in the flower gardens with servants who always bowed respectfully to her. Occasionally, Joonghyuk would be seen accompanying them for dinner at a long table full of delicious dishes.

However, in the middle of all that magnificence, Joonghyuk's gaze remained empty. He was like a body walking without a soul. Lee Seolhwa, realizing the darkness enveloping the Emperor, tried many times to be by his side. Seolhwa brought soothing tea, invited him to talk about the future of the empire, and even tried to provide warmth through her physical presence when they had to appear together in public. However, nothing worked. Every time Seolhwa touched his hand, Joonghyuk felt nothing. His mind remained fixed on the snowy cliff, on Han Sooyoung's sharp words, and on the figure of Kim Dokja.

Every time he saw Biyoo laugh, his heart was sliced even further because he realized this happiness was incomplete without the presence of the person who most deserved to be here.

Finally, on the fourth night after the palace atmosphere began to settle, Joonghyuk called Hyunsung, Uriel, and Jihye to the emperor's office.

"I am going," Joonghyuk said suddenly while staring at the window facing north.

"Going? Where, Your Majesty? There are still many administrative matters unfinished," Uriel asked with a worried face.

"I will be at the border for a considerable time. There is something I must resolve myself," Joonghyuk answered without turning. His aura felt very heavy, as if he was carrying the weight of the whole world on his shoulders. "I leave the palace and the safety of Mia and Biyoo to you. Wait here until I return."

Without waiting for an answer or protest from them, Joonghyuk took his black robe. He brought no army, no luxury supplies. He brought only his sword and one definite goal. He had to return to the place where it all began, the place where Dokja used to return, where he could feel Dokja's mana remnants; he would wait before he truly crossed the boundary into the demon realm.

. . .

The imperial palace, usually grand, now felt like a cold stone tomb since Yoo Joonghyuk's departure. Although Uriel tried to brighten the atmosphere by dressing Biyoo in beautiful silk gowns, or Lee Hyunsung faithfully trained the soldiers to guard the two princesses, the vacuum at the throne remained real.

Meanwhile, at the frozen border, the small wooden house stood silent in the middle of the blizzard. Inside, no fire burned in the fireplace. No oil lamp light. There was only Yoo Joonghyuk sitting silently on the old sofa.

During those few days in the palace, Joonghyuk had used all his analytical skills and sharp senses to calculate the mana frequency left in that house. He had finally managed to crack the pattern of Dokja's secret visits. He knew exactly what time the dimension would thin, and at what point the man usually appeared to steal a bit of the remaining mana.

Joonghyuk waited.

The second night reached its peak. The storm outside roared louder, and the air temperature dropped to the deadliest point. Joonghyuk's vision began to blur. His head felt heavy, and his consciousness slowly dimmed. In a state between waking and dreaming, he felt the air in the center of the room suddenly vibrate.

. . .

Kim Dokja had spent the last few days in the demon realm castle with his condition worsening. Every night, he woke up with his body trembling from the cold, not because of the extreme demon realm weather, but because the fetus in his womb was struggling with thirst for his father's mana. The baby, as if sucking Dokja's life energy in search of a warmth that demon mana could not provide.

That night, the pain in his stomach was unbearable. Dokja stood in the center of his room, his eyes flashing purple as he released his authority as the ruler of the territory. With one powerful wave of his hand, he tore the dimensional crack once again. He did not care if his friend would rage tomorrow; right now, his safety and that of this baby were paramount.

Dokja stepped into the dimensional rift, and in an instant, he set foot on the wooden floor of the border house. Yoo Joonghyuk's aura and mana glowed, and now the fetus in his stomach stopped protesting.

However, the atmosphere there was very different from usual. The house was pitch black. No candle light in the window, no aroma of Mia's cooking, and what made Dokja's heart drop most was the silence. There was no sound of Biyoo's laughter or Mia's chatter that usually greeted him.

"Mia? Biyoo?" Dokja whispered softly, his voice trembling with panic. He rubbed his stomach, trying to calm his own heartbeat. "Where is everyone?"

He walked deeper into the living room, his eyes trying to adjust to the thick darkness. He thought the house had been vacated, or worse, they had been taken by force.

However, as he passed the old sofa in front of the dead fireplace, he felt someone's presence. The energy was so thick, so hot, and so familiar that it made his entire body shiver.

A man sat there, leaning against the sofa with his head bowed. His black robe looked dusty, and his face was covered in shadows. His body did not move, as if he had become a part of that dead wooden furniture for days.

Dokja froze. His breath caught as he realized who the figure was.

"Yoo Joonghyuk?!"

Dokja's scream broke in the silence of that room. He took a step back, his hand instinctively protecting his pregnancy. He did not expect to find Yoo Joonghyuk here. Hearing his name called, Joonghyuk slowly raised his head. His blurred vision gradually focused on the white-robed figure he had been waiting for in the vacuum.

Hearing his name called in that trembling, shocked tone, Joonghyuk felt the remnants of his strength flare back to life. He tried to stand, but his legs, weak from two days without food or water, nearly made him stumble. With a determination born purely from a thirst for the man's presence, he pushed his body forward.

He did not care about pride or his own pain. He only knew that Kim Dokja was in front of him.

In an instant, Joonghyuk was before Dokja. Without a single word, he pulled the slenderer body into his embrace. The hug was incredibly tight, so possessive and rough, as if he were trying to weld back together the missing pieces of his soul. The faint masculine scent of Joonghyuk's body immediately enveloped Dokja, along with a thick flow of mana that unconsciously began to soothe the turmoil of energy inside Dokja's stomach.

Dokja flinched violently. His eyes widened in disbelief. His body stiffened, rejecting the touch that was so sudden and suffocating.

"Let go! What are you doing, Yoo Joonghyuk?!" Dokja exclaimed, his voice caught in his throat because the embrace was so powerful.

He tried to rebel, his hands hitting Joonghyuk's sturdy shoulders, trying to create distance. However, the embrace felt like an iron cage impossible to break. Joonghyuk did not say a word. He just kept holding on, his body trembling slightly, and Dokja could feel the immense weight of Joonghyuk's irregular breathing in the crook of his neck.

"Stop! Release me!" Dokja continued to struggle, panic beginning to creep into his heart. He felt suffocated, not just because of Joonghyuk's strength, but because of bitter memories that suddenly rushed back.

The hug only tightened further, as if Joonghyuk feared that if he loosened it even a little, Dokja would evaporate into dust. The pressure on Dokja's stomach began to feel excessive. He realized that if this continued, the small life he was protecting would be threatened.

"Yoo Joonghyuk... it hurts!" Dokja whispered, his voice becoming hoarse and broken. He pushed Joonghyuk's chest with the remnants of his trembling strength. "Stop... the baby... you are hurting the baby!"

Hearing the words 'the baby', Joonghyuk's grip instantly loosened. Though he did not let go of Dokja completely, the pressure on the man's stomach decreased drastically. Joonghyuk, who usually stood tall with the arrogance of an emperor, now looked so broken. He hid his face on Dokja's shoulder, his shoulders heaving as he held back overflowing emotions. Dokja, who initially wanted to curse, fell silent for a moment feeling an unfamiliar moisture touch the skin of his neck.

The man considered a heartless monster was breaking down in his arms.

"Let go, Yoo Joonghyuk..." Dokja repeated his request, this time more softly, even though his hands still held Joonghyuk's chest to prevent him from embracing too tightly again.

However, seeing Dokja continue to struggle and ask him to leave, Joonghyuk's consciousness—already cracked by centuries of frustration—completely shattered as he saw Dokja trying to distance himself. In a hot, drunken fog, he no longer cared for words. The only thing he wanted was to silence the voice that rejected him.

Joonghyuk grabbed the back of Dokja's neck roughly, his fingers locking between the strands of Dokja's black hair, forcing the man's face upward. Without warning, he slammed his lips onto Dokja's. The kiss began hot, a battle of tongues that was wet, hungry, and highly demanding.

When Dokja tried to open his mouth to protest, Joonghyuk immediately swept inside, parting Dokja's teeth with his hot tongue. The sound of deep, wet smacking began to fill the silence of the room. Joonghyuk sucked greedily at Dokja's tongue, pulling it into his own mouth as if he wanted to swallow the man alive.

Their tongues intertwined roughly, clashing and rubbing without a gap. Dokja, who was initially struggling, began to lose his footing. The sound of heavy, racing breaths echoed, creating a very suffocating atmosphere. Excess saliva began to seep from the corners of their locked lips, flowing down to the chin and wetting their collars, yet Joonghyuk did not let Dokja move away even by a single millimeter.

The kiss became increasingly hot and wild. Joonghyuk sucked Dokja's lower lip until it turned red, while his tongue continued to explore every corner of Dokja's mouth with deep and provocative movements. The occasional clashing of teeth only added to the burning sensation searing their nerves. Dokja could only let out a choked groan in the middle of that entanglement, his hands that were once pushing now clutched Joonghyuk's shirt with great strength, his body trembling violently from the frontal and intense stimulation.

The sound of wet smacking from lips greedily devouring each other echoed, breaking the silence of the night. Joonghyuk, losing self-control due to the poison of alcohol and suppressed rage, continued to hunt Dokja's mouth without mercy.

Dokja tried to turn his face away, but the grip of Joonghyuk's large hand on his jaw and neck left him helpless. Every time Dokja tried to open his mouth to plead for him to stop, Joonghyuk only invaded deeper.

"Ngh... Joonghyuk... sto—"

Dokja's words were immediately cut off as Joonghyuk's tongue swept in by force, churning his oral cavity with wild and dominating movements. The sound of wet suction was very clear as Joonghyuk drew in Dokja's tongue, forcing an exchange of saliva so intense that the clear liquid overflowed and flowed down their chins.

Dokja let out a choked moan in the middle of that heated kiss. His body trembled violently; he felt the oxygen around him thinning. Joonghyuk seemed to be trying to suck Dokja's entire life through their wet and messy lip connection.

Joonghyuk's tongue continued to press deeper, exploring every corner of Dokja's mouth in a very vulgar and thirsty way. Dokja could only let out a resigned groan held in his throat, while his weak hands tried to grab Joonghyuk's sturdy shoulders. The scent of Joonghyuk's breath, thick with high body heat, made Dokja feel drunk in this terrifying passion.

However, in the midst of the kiss reaching its peak heat, where the wet smacking sounded louder, Joonghyuk's body suddenly weakened.

His grip on the back of Dokja's neck slowly loosened. The movements of his tongue, which were so aggressive earlier, began to slow before finally stopping completely. Joonghyuk's racing breath now sounded heavy and irregular in front of Dokja's face.

Joonghyuk closed his golden eyes, his head drooping heavily on Dokja's shoulder. The entire weight of the much larger man suddenly fell upon Dokja. The influence of alcohol and mental exhaustion after learning the bitter truth about his child finally caused Joonghyuk's defenses to collapse.

Joonghyuk fainted completely in Dokja's arms, still with the remnants of saliva wetting the lips that had just cruelly devoured Dokja.

Dokja panted for breath, his face flushed red with swollen and wet lips. He supported Joonghyuk's heavy body with trembling hands, staring at the now unconscious man with a gaze mixed with hate, love, and a deep wound.

. . .

Joonghyuk's eyelids fluttered slowly. The first thing he felt was a painful throb in his temple. He let out a low groan, trying to gather his scattered consciousness. The wet and hot sensation on his lips still felt real in his memory—the sound of smacking, the wild struggle of tongues, and the suffocating scent of Kim Dokja's body. Joonghyuk immediately rose with a rough jerk, his eyes scanning the room wildly.

However, the room was silent.

There was no sign of the man's presence. The bed beside him was cold, and the air inside the wooden house felt empty, as if the mana vibration he felt last night was just a nightmare that was too real.

"Dokja?" Joonghyuk's voice broke, sounding foreign to his own ears.

Yet, all he found was a painful silence. Kim Dokja had gone, disappearing without leaving a trace, as if he were just a shadow that evaporated at sunrise.

. . .

A week had passed. But Dokja never came. Two weeks. Three weeks. Joonghyuk waited. In between, he could not neglect his responsibilities as emperor. He would handle everything from morning until night. Then he would return to that house, waiting for Dokja. But Dokja never returned.

Until a month had passed. Dokja had truly severed his access. There was no trace of mana. The house remained empty, leaving Joonghyuk alone mourning the time that moved on without forgiveness.

The fortieth night at the border felt much more gripping. The blizzard outside battered the wooden walls of the house ferociously, creating a heart-wrenching creaking sound. Inside, the fireplace was nearly out, leaving only dim red embers.

Joonghyuk sat in the wooden chair, his head bowed with eyes closed. He was not truly asleep; he was in a state of semi-consciousness due to extreme exhaustion. His heavy imperial armor still clung to his body, contrasting with the simple farmhouse atmosphere. In his restless sleep, he still hoped to hear the sound of Dokja's footsteps or the creak of the door opening.

Suddenly, the air inside the room turned sharp. A strong aroma of lemon and ink surged in, shattering the silence of the night.

A woman stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the room. Han Sooyoung stood there in a black robe wet with snow, her face looking very pale and her eyes red from lack of sleep. She looked at the disheveled Joonghyuk with a gaze that was hard to interpret—between hate, pity, and frustration.

"Wake up, you idiot," Sooyoung's voice sounded hoarse, yet sharp enough to make Joonghyuk jerk awake.

Joonghyuk opened his eyes quickly, his hand instinctively searching for the hilt of his sword. However, seeing who stood before him, he immediately stood upright. His eyes swept the room behind Sooyoung, searching for the figure he missed.

"Where is he?" Joonghyuk asked, his voice parau because it was rarely used for speaking.

Sooyoung laughed coldly, a laugh full of bitterness. "Him? He is dying in his castle, and it is all because of the stupidity of you both."

Joonghyuk's heart seemed to stop beating. He stepped forward, grabbing Sooyoung's shoulders firmly. "What do you mean? What happened to Dokja?"

Sooyoung brushed Joonghyuk's hands off roughly. "He refuses to come here. He refuses to touch any mana that originates from you because he hates you so much, Yoo Joonghyuk. He would rather let his body be destroyed, eaten by the churning demon mana, than breathe your rotten mana again."

Sooyoung took a long breath; she was angry. "The baby... the baby needs pure mana from you to stabilize. Because Dokja keeps rejecting it, his body is starting to lose the strength to carry that burden. He is losing a lot of consciousness, and if this continues, it won't just be the baby who goes, but Dokja as well."

Joonghyuk was stunned. His entire world seemed to collapse instantly. For a month he had waited here, not expecting that Dokja's pride and pain would bring him to the point of death.

"Take me there," Joonghyuk ordered, his voice trembling violently. "Take me to him right now, Han Sooyoung!"

Sooyoung clicked her tongue loudly, turning her face away with an expression of pure disgust. She clenched her fists tightly, as if restraining herself from hurlng her shadow magic directly into the face of the emperor standing before her.

"I did not expect to reach a point where I actually have to bring you into our territory," Sooyoung said with a tone full of hatred.

"Listen to me carefully, Yoo Joonghyuk," Sooyoung continued as she stepped back toward a dimensional crack that was beginning to glow dark purple. "I will make sure this is the last time if you hurt him again after this, or if your presence only worsens his condition. I myself will ensure you never see the sunrise again, no matter how strong you are as an emperor."

Joonghyuk did not counter the threat. He remained silent, but the look in his eyes showed unwavering determination. He was ready to accept any punishment, as long as he could reach Dokja's side.

"Follow me, and do not release your mana even a bit until we arrive inside the room," Sooyoung snapped before jumping into the dimensional rift.

Joonghyuk followed immediately, piercing through the boundaries of space and time. In an instant, the cold air of the border was replaced by the heavy, suffocating atmosphere of the demon realm. They emerged in a silent, dark corridor inside the demon king's castle. The atmosphere was so gripping, with only the sound of Sooyoung's hurried footsteps cutting through the silence.

Finally, Sooyoung stopped in front of a large door made of black wood carved with ancient symbols. She took a deep breath before pushing the door open slowly.

The scent of bitter medicine mixed with the aroma of unstable demon mana immediately greeted Joonghyuk's senses. In the middle of the dimly lit room, on a large bed surrounded by thin curtains, the figure lay.

Kim Dokja looked so small under his thick blankets. His face was as pale as paper, his lips were chapped, and his breath sounded very short and heavy. His thin hand was placed over his protruding stomach, as if even in an unconscious state, he was still trying to protect the life within.

Joonghyuk's heart felt squeezed until it shattered into pieces at the sight. The man who was usually full of plans and annoying thin smiles now looked like a candle that was almost out.

Sooyoung stood at the doorway, her eyes never leaving the figure of Dokja who looked so fragile. She took a long breath, a heavy burden seemingly weighing on her shoulders.

"A pregnant demon truly needs the mana of the one who impregnated them to stabilize their baby. Especially a powerful demon baby like the one in there," Sooyoung said with a low but emphasized voice. "I was forced to bring you here only because I feared Dokja would not survive the night. He is too stubborn to ask for your help."

Sooyoung stared sharply at Joonghyuk, giving a final warning before she left the room.

"Don't hurt him, Yoo Joonghyuk. Never. I will return in three hours to make sure everything is okay."

After the large door closed with a soft thud, Joonghyuk moved immediately. He stepped toward the bed and sat on its edge. With great care, Joonghyuk lifted Dokja's body, which felt incredibly light, positioning himself to support the limp form. He pulled Dokja into his embrace, letting the man's back lean fully against his warm, broad chest.

Dokja, whose consciousness began to recover due to the incoming flow of mana, immediately stiffened. He tried to push Joonghyuk's shoulders with the remnants of strength that were nearly non-existent.

"Let go... get out of here, Yoo Joonghyuk," Dokja whispered with a hoarse, trembling voice.

"Be quiet, Dokja. You need this energy," Joonghyuk replied without emotion, though his hands locked Dokja's body so he wouldn't slip.

"Don't touch me... we no longer have any relationship," Dokja panted, his weary eyes staring blankly ahead. "You are someone else's fiancé. Go... don't do this to me."

Hearing this, Joonghyuk's hand movements momentarily stopped. A suffocating silence enveloped them for a few moments. Joonghyuk did not deny it, nor did he confirm it. Instead of answering, he pulled Dokja's body even closer to his chest, providing tangible physical warmth to drive away the remaining bone-chilling cold.

"I said let go—"

"Ssh... do not talk so much. You are still very weak," Joonghyuk interrupted with a deep, low voice.

Dokja, who no longer had the strength to resist, finally gave up. His head slumped weakly on Joonghyuk's shoulder, letting the mana continue to flow in. The warmth seemed to guide his soul back from the darkness. The baby inside, which had been very restless, now became very calm, as if it had just found a safe harbor.

Joonghyuk gently kissed Dokja's shoulder, which was covered in thin cloth—a kiss laden with unspoken guilt. His large, rough hands now moved with extraordinary tenderness, stroking Dokja's protruding stomach in a soothing circular motion.

"Dokja-ya," Joonghyuk whispered, his voice trembling slightly as he felt life beneath his palm. "The creature inside here... is this truly my child?"

Dokja flinched slightly as he felt Joonghyuk's large hand stroking his stomach. Although his body began to feel warm due to the mana flow, he still tried to maintain the fortress in his heart. He turned his face away, refusing to look into the eyes of the man who had destroyed his world.

"This is not your child," Dokja whispered coldly, his voice sounding sharp despite his short breath. "Don't be so confident, Yoo Joonghyuk. He is my child. Mine alone."

Joonghyuk was not angry. Instead, a low, bitter chuckle came from his chest, creating a vibration felt directly on Dokja's back. He instead tightened his embrace, wrapping his arms protectively as if holding his entire world.

"You are still so good at lying, Kim Dokja," Joonghyuk said softly. He rested his chin on Dokja's shoulder, inhaling the scent he had missed so much. "But that doesn't matter now. It is all over."

Dokja furrowed his brow, confusion beginning to sneak in between his hatred. "What do you mean? What is over?"

Dokja tried to peek back, seeking an answer in the man's face. However, as he turned, Joonghyuk brought his face forward. In an instant, their lips met. It was just a light, soft, warm kiss full of regret—enough to silence all of Dokja's questions.

After releasing their lips, Joonghyuk did not pull away. He kept his forehead pressed against Dokja's, staring into the eyes that always made him kneel with a broken gaze.

"I am sorry," Joonghyuk whispered, his voice cracking. "I left you for these six months... I let you be alone without knowing you were carrying such a difficult burden. I truly did not know you were carrying my flesh and blood."

Dokja was stunned. He did not reply, nor did he nod. His tongue felt numb seeing the man who was usually so arrogant now begging for forgiveness before him. He could only fall silent, feeling the gentle stroke of Joonghyuk's hand on his protruding stomach.

That night, Dokja fell asleep, carrying all the confusion in his head.

Three hours passed very quickly in the room that now felt much warmer. Joonghyuk felt Dokja's breath was very regular and deep, a sign that the man had entered a very sound phase of recovery sleep. With great care, as if moving the most precious porcelain in the world, Joonghyuk laid Dokja's body back on the pillow.

He covered Dokja up to his chest, then stroked Dokja's stomach once more to ensure the demon baby inside had truly calmed down.

Just then, the black wooden door opened slightly. Han Sooyoung stepped in with intentionally muffled steps. She saw Joonghyuk already standing beside the bed, putting back on his black imperial robe that he had briefly removed.

"He is asleep," Joonghyuk said without looking at Sooyoung. His voice was flat but contained an authority that could not be denied. "His mana is stable for now."

Sooyoung walked closer, checked Dokja's pulse for a moment, then let out a relieved sigh. "You were on time. If not, I wouldn't know what to say to his parents later."

Joonghyuk looked at Dokja's sleeping face for the last time that night. "I will return every three days," Joonghyuk stated firmly as he began to step into the shadows of the room to teleport. "Do not try to block me, Han Sooyoung. His body needs mana from me regularly so that the baby does not go back to eating his energy."

Sooyoung could only snort in annoyance, but she did not argue. She knew medically and magically, what Joonghyuk said was the absolute truth.

"Fine," Sooyoung replied curtly. She chuckled slightly, "I will kill you if you don't come on schedule."

Joonghyuk did not answer further. In an instant, his figure faded and disappeared from the room, returning to the capital to carry out his role as emperor.

Since that night, a secret routine began. Every three days, the Tyrant Emperor would disappear from his palace exactly at midnight, only to appear in Dokja's room, providing warmth and mana, ensuring that this time, no more lives would be lost due to his neglect.

The third night arrived, and exactly as he had said, Yoo Joonghyuk appeared again in the middle of the dimly lit room. The air around the bed suddenly vibrated violently as the tall, large silhouette of the emperor solidified from the shadows.

Kim Dokja, who was then trying to sit up to drink water, flinched until he nearly dropped his glass. His eyes widened, staring at the figure that should have been hundreds of miles away on a golden throne.

"You... why have you come again?!" Dokja exclaimed with a tone mixed between shock and annoyance. He tried to move his pillow away, as if wanting to create distance. "I already feel better. Sooyoung can take care of me; you don't need to keep appearing like a ghost in my room, Yoo Joonghyuk."

Joonghyuk did not respond to the outcry with anger. He also did not argue or try to force an embrace like before. The man simply pulled a heavy wooden chair to the side of Dokja's bed, then sat there with a straight back and a calm face that looked very tired.

"Be quiet, Kim Dokja," Joonghyuk said shortly.

"Do you not have other work!? Right, I only just found out that you are now an emperor, so why don't you go attend to your business—"

"Ssh."

Joonghyuk did not move from his chair. He only placed his hands on his knees, then closed his eyes. The next second, pure and very powerful gold mana began to flow out of his body, filling the room with a soothing warmth. He let his energy emanate naturally, enveloping Dokja's body and the demon baby inside without having to physically touch the man.

Dokja, who had intended to keep grumbling, gradually lost his voice. The warmth entering the pores of his skin made his stiff body relax again. His stomach, which had felt tight earlier, now softened, and he could feel the baby inside as if it were swimming calmly toward the source of heat.

Silence enveloped them. Dokja looked at Joonghyuk from the side. In the dim light of the oil lamp, he could see the sharp lines of Joonghyuk's face.

Joonghyuk opened his eyes slightly, staring at the flickering candle flame. "I know. You may hate me as much as you want, but I will not let that baby suffer because of my sins. That baby is also my child. Sleep. I will leave before dawn."

Dokja finally leaned back against his pile of pillows, pulling the blanket to his chest.

. . .

The atmosphere in the room became very heavy as dawn began to peek through the window crack. Joonghyuk stood from his chair, his mana slowly fading after hours of being flowed to stabilize Dokja's condition. However, instead of immediately disappearing like previous visits, he remained standing by the bed, looking at the newly awake Dokja with a hard-to-interpret gaze.

"Kim Dokja," Joonghyuk called flatly.

Dokja, who was tidying his blanket, only answered with a lazy murmur without looking.

"Come with me to the palace," Joonghyuk continued. "Mia and Biyoo always talk about that traveler. They won't stop asking when you will visit."

Dokja stopped his movement of tidying the blanket. The room's atmosphere, which had been calm, suddenly turned cold as soon as that invitation was uttered. He looked up, staring at Joonghyuk with a sharp and unfriendly gaze.

"To the palace?" Dokja chuckled hollowly, a sound laden with irony. "You think that place is suitable for me? A Demon King crawling into the center of human civilization that so worships purity?"

"They miss you, Dokja," Joonghyuk replied flatly, not budging from his position.

"Don't use Mia or Biyoo as an excuse to pull me back into your world, Yoo Joonghyuk," Dokja's voice rose, though it still sounded weak. "I no longer have any business with the human world. For six hundred years I learned that my existence will only bring disaster to you all, and vice versa."

Dokja stroked his protruding stomach under the blanket, his eyes dimming as he looked at his own hand.

"The reason I accepted you here... the reason I let you channel this mana, is solely for the sake of this baby," Dokja continued with a freezing tone. "Do not misunderstand. If it weren't for this life needing the energy of someone like you, I wouldn't care to see your face for a single second. Our relationship is strictly limited to your obligation toward the child you once neglected."

Joonghyuk was stunned. Dokja's words were like a blade slicing back into old wounds, yet he did not argue. He accepted every verbal dagger as a punishment he deserved.

Joonghyuk did not leave immediately. He stood silently for a few minutes, staring at Dokja's back which looked so fragile yet stubborn at the same time. He knew the wall Dokja had built was very high, but he also knew that he would never give up on tearing it down, one stone at a time.

"I will return in three days," Joonghyuk said shortly.

Without waiting for a reply or further expulsion from Dokja, Joonghyuk let the shadows swallow his body, disappearing exactly as the first sunlight touched the floor of the room.

After silence regained control of the room, Dokja clenched his hands over the blanket until his knuckles turned white. The rage he had been suppressing in front of Joonghyuk now overflowed, burning his chest with a painful tightness.

"That arrogant man..." Dokja hissed, his voice trembling with pent-up emotion.

He hated how Joonghyuk came and went as he pleased, bringing the scent of a past he wanted to bury deep. However, when he thought of Mia and especially Biyoo, his anger suddenly clashed with a strange sense of longing.

That baby deity...

Dokja touched his own stomach, the place where a new life was now pulsing. Bitter memories from six hundred years ago resurfaced uninvited. He remembered the coldness that spread through his womb that night, the extraordinary pain when he realized the small life that had not yet breathed the world's air had left him. A baby he had waited for alone in the silence of the palace, while its father was busy with ambition and warfare.

Biyoo was a reflection of that loss. Every time Dokja saw the clear eyes of that baby deity, it was as if he saw the soul of the child taken from him long ago greeting him again in a different form. The comfort he felt when he was with Biyoo was the reason why it was so difficult to truly walk away.

"Bastard..." Dokja murmured.

That hatred grew fertile alongside trauma that had not healed. He could not forget what it felt like to be ignored to the point where he lost everything. To him, every bit of attention Joonghyuk gave now was merely a reminder of the man's failure in the past.

The trauma was still there, a gaping wound that had not dried, which bled anew every time it was touched by Joonghyuk's presence. Dokja felt trapped between his duty to protect the baby he was carrying and his desire to destroy everything related to the man who had inflicted such a deep wound.

. . .

Three days passed with tension thickening steadily. True to his promise, exactly at midnight, the shadows in the corner of the room solidified into the tall, large figure of Yoo Joonghyuk. However, this time the bed was empty. There was only the lingering scent of demon incense hanging heavy in the air, indicating that the owner of the room had just left or was busy with his affairs.

Joonghyuk stood frozen in the darkness. He did not leave. Instead, he stayed there, waiting in silence with a tightly clenched jaw. Until finally, the large door of the room creaked open.

Kim Dokja stepped inside. His figure looked both magnificent and terrifying in the grand robes of the Demon King—pitch black with silver thread embroidery that radiated dark magical energy. He had just finished leading a meeting with the demon high officials, and a cold aura of authority still enveloped his body.

Dokja noticed Joonghyuk's presence in the corner of the room. He could feel that sharp gold mana, but he did not turn at all. He did not even grant a single passing glance.

With calm yet indifferent movements, Dokja began to undo the clasp of the heavy outer robe. The expensive black fabric slid to the floor just like that. Now he wore only a thin white inner robe that revealed the curves of his body, including his increasingly prominent stomach—a tangible burden he had to carry alone.

Without a word, Dokja walked toward the bed. He lay his body on his side, turning his back to where Joonghyuk stood. He pulled the blanket up to cover his shoulders, as if the most powerful man in the human empire were nothing but invisible dust.

Joonghyuk stared at Dokja's back, which looked so fragile yet stubborn under the dim light of the oil lamp. He wanted to step forward, wanted to touch that shoulder. However, his throat felt blocked by thousands of words he could not explain.

Joonghyuk's hands at his sides clenched very tightly. His knuckles turned white, and veins bulged in his arms as he struggled to contain the surge of emotion in his chest. He felt like a loser who could only stand in the darkness, watching the man he loved but had destroyed, who now would not even acknowledge his existence.

"Sleep," Joonghyuk whispered finally, his voice very low and laden with despair.

. . .

In the middle of the night, the room's silence was suddenly broken by the sound of short, gasping breaths. Joonghyuk, who had been standing frozen in the darkness, immediately rushed to the bedside upon hearing a suppressed groan from Dokja's lips.

"Kim Dokja?"

Joonghyuk touched Dokja's forehead and flinched. The man's skin felt as cold as ice, yet his body was drenched in cold sweat until his black hair clung damply to his brow. Dokja's face was deathly pale, his eyes tightly shut with brows furrowed in extraordinary pain.

"Dokja! Open your eyes!" Joonghyuk shouted frantically. He immediately channeled a large amount of his mana, but strangely, the gold energy seemed to evaporate before it could stabilize Dokja's condition.

Without wasting time, Joonghyuk slammed the bedroom door wide open. "Han Sooyoung! Get here right now!"

Sooyoung arrived in a hurry, her face still sleepy but turning serious instantly upon seeing Dokja's condition. She immediately checked his pulse and the mana flow in Dokja's stomach.

"What did you do to him, huh?!" Sooyoung glared sharply at Joonghyuk, her hands trembling as she felt the unstable surge of energy. "Did you give him too much mana or what?"

"I don't know," Joonghyuk growled, his eyes flashing with anxiety.

Sooyoung quickly chanted healing spells repeatedly, but Dokja's breathing only grew heavier. "Damn it, this makes no sense. I don't know what's happening!"

Stuck, Sooyoung immediately called Yoo Sangah through a communication crystal. Sangah arrived shortly after via emergency teleportation magic. As someone with a deep understanding of ancient history and the nature of holy entities, Sangah placed her hand over Dokja's protruding stomach.

A soft light emerged from Sangah's palm, but soon she withdrew her hand with a shocked expression.

"It is not because of mana and not because he is weak," Sangah said with a trembling voice. "This baby... it is suddenly rejecting the atmosphere of the demon realm."

"What do you mean?" Joonghyuk asked quickly.

"He is a fusion of your blood and Dokja-ssi's. He has a 'holy' side. For some reason, this baby's instincts are suddenly reacting negatively to the dark air of the demon realm, which is too thick. He feels suffocated, and because of that, he is forcibly draining Dokja-ssi's mana to protect himself," Sangah explained at length.

Seeing Dokja grow paler and moan in pain, Han Sooyoung lost her patience. As the strongest demon accompanying the Demon King's throne, she could not let her friend stay in danger, especially under the watch of a man she loathed.

Sooyoung stepped forward, her hand roughly grabbing the collar of Joonghyuk's imperial armor. Her purple eyes flashed with genuine bloodlust.

"Listen to me carefully, you damned Emperor," Sooyoung hissed right in Joonghyuk's face. "I am forced to let him go with you because that baby rejects the air here. But if you hurt him again, if you let even a single strand of his hair fall or make him cry because of your stupidity... I swear I will tear down every wall of your capital and rip out your heart with my own hands. Do you understand?!"

Joonghyuk did not meet the threat with anger. He only looked at Sooyoung with a very dark gaze, accepting every threat as a guarantee of life. "I will not let anything bad happen to him again."

Sooyoung released her grip roughly and snorted in frustration. As the figure who had to maintain the stability of the demon realm while the King was away, she could not go to the human world. She had a great responsibility to ensure this territory did not fall into chaos when the demon high officials found out their leader was incapacitated.

"Go! Before I change my mind and cut off your legs!" Sooyoung shouted while looking away, hiding her worry.

Without wasting a single second, Joonghyuk slid his arms under Dokja's body, lifting him with a very steady yet careful motion. The weak Dokja could only lean his head against Joonghyuk's chest, his short breaths feeling hot against the Emperor's neck.

Joonghyuk concentrated all his mana, calling forth a large-scale teleportation circle that immediately enveloped them in blinding gold light.

Whoosh!

In an instant, the cold and heavy air of the demon realm vanished, replaced by the scent of linden flowers and the fresh mountain air surrounding the imperial palace. They appeared right in the middle of Joonghyuk's vast and luxurious private chambers.

As soon as his feet touched the marble floor, Joonghyuk could feel Dokja's body relax slightly. The mana pressure that was previously raging in Dokja's stomach began to subside because the human world's atmosphere was much purer for the baby's 'holy' side.

Joonghyuk laid Dokja down on his own large bed, a bed that had been empty and cold for so long. He immediately pulled a thick blanket to cover Dokja's still-trembling body.

"Dokja? Do you hear me?" Joonghyuk whispered, his hand gently stroking Dokja's cheek, which was starting to regain its warmth.

Dokja opened his eyes slightly, staring at the bedroom ceiling decorated with magnificent imperial paintings. He realized where he was now—in the heart of the enemy's power, in the place he had avoided for centuries.

"I... hate you, Yoo Joonghyuk," Dokja murmured faintly, his voice very weak yet still full of rejection.

"I know," Joonghyuk replied lowly, sitting on the edge of the bed and not letting go of Dokja's hand. "Hate me as much as you want, as long as you and the child keep breathing."

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