The demon moved toward the tree, biting into his own hand and forcing the blood to spill out. The moment the blood left his body, it solidified in midair, transforming into a long, hard spear with a sharp tip.
You didn't hide your scent well, enough.
Thinking this, he moved without making a sound.
He quickly circled behind the tree and thrust the spear toward its base.
There was no one there anymore.
Only a bag—covered by brown clothes stained with dried blood.
Seeing this, the demon was surprised.
"So the boy is smarter than I thought."
Before long, the demon whistled once more. Every demon dog froze, focusing its attention on him.
"No matter what, find the boy. Now!"
At his command, the demon dogs scattered to search.
***
Meanwhile, Aster was running with all his strength, sword in hand. Every word spoken by the Baskerville demon echoed relentlessly in his ears.
Then, he remembered his mother's final words.
"Survive. No matter what, live."
Those words pushed Aster forward.
So that his mother's sacrifice would not be in vain, so that the life she had given him would not be wasted—Aster had to survive, no matter the cost.
'Of course, Mom. I will survive. I'll prove that the life you gave me wasn't wasted. I promise!'
Silence fell once again, broken only by the sound of his labored breathing.
The demon dogs' howls faded away. That alone gave him a brief chance to breathe.
As Aster continued onward, he realized he needed a place to hide. Until dawn came, there was no escaping the demon forever.
That was when he saw it—a light glowing within the forest.
It wasn't the moon.
It wasn't starlight.
It was firelight—from a hut.
'There might be people inside…'
The moment he thought of people, scenes from the village flashed through his mind—faces twisted with hatred and rage.
But did that matter right now?
No.
Being rejected was better than dying without even trying.
'Even if they're afraid of me… I have to ask.'
He ran toward the hut.
As he approached, countless thoughts raced through his mind. Their answer would decide whether he lived or died.
Just as the hut came into view, a demon dog suddenly leapt out from nowhere.
Without hesitation, it attacked Aster.
He'd made a mistake.
Believing himself close to safety, he had lowered his guard.
But at the very last second, Aster reacted, driving his sword into the charging beast.
'Where did it come from?!'
He glanced around anxiously.
It wasn't alone.
In the blink of an eye, he was surrounded.
'I can't kill all of them. I need to run!'
He stepped back.
But the dogs blocked his path immediately.
There was no escape.
He had no choice but to fight.
After ending his adventuring days and returning to the village, Hans hadn't been able to live quietly. He had taught Aster several basic sword techniques—moves that might one day save his life.
With the little experience he had, Aster raised his sword and fought back.
Slashes.
Vertical strikes.
Horizontal swings.
He used everything he knew.
But the demon dogs were too many.
Suddenly, one of them reached his leg. It bit down hard and yanked.
Aster was dragged to the ground.
As he fell, his sword slipped from his grasp.
Taking advantage of the moment, the other dogs lunged, biting into his arms and legs.
They pulled at him like a broken doll.
Unable to endure the pain, Aster screamed with everything he had.
Hoping someone inside the hut would hear him, he cried out.
"Help!"
But the moment he saw the horned demon approach, all hope drained from him.
"You're smarter than I expected. Normally, when humans hear insults about their family or loved ones, they lose themselves to rage and rush forward, ready to kill."
The demon walked closer.
He didn't kill Aster immediately.
Demons usually slaughtered humans the moment they caught them.
But this time was different.
"Honestly, you surprise me. My words should've filled you with hatred and fury. Instead, all I see is your desperate will to live. What fuels that obsession with survival?"
Despite hearing the question, Aster didn't answer. Ignoring the pain tearing through his body, he tried to crawl away.
Seeing this, the demon spoke again.
"Watching your desire to live… almost makes me pity you."
The Baskerville demon kicked Aster, flipping him onto his back.
"If it were up to me, I would've killed you instantly—quickly and painlessly. Unfortunately, I can't. I have to take you with me…"
He paused mid-sentence.
"Because a powerful demon has taken an interest in you."
Lying on the ground, Aster stared up at the night sky peeking through the branches.
He no longer had the strength to move.
The pain throughout his body only deepened his desire to die.
Then—
His body went completely still.
Aster stopped breathing.
No movement.
No sign of life.
The Baskerville demon approached him in surprise.
Aster's consciousness drifted far away.
The dream that had haunted him for so long appeared once again.
'It's like the dream is repeating itself…'
The moment that thought surfaced, his blood began to boil within his veins.
'I don't have the right to give up! I still don't know who I am—or who the man in my dreams is! Who was that Demon King?! I still have thousands of unanswered questions. I don't have the right to die before I get those answers!'
Suddenly, the death cry of a demon dog echoed through the forest.
The demon turned sharply toward the sound.
"What happened?" he demanded, glaring at the dogs.
From the direction of the cry came an old man—his hair and beard streaked with white, a sword in his hand, his clothes worn and aged.
The remaining dogs rushed at him.
With a single strike, the old man split them apart.
Seeing this, the demon roared in rage.
"What is this?! You can't even kill one old man?!"
Like chopping meat, the old man cut down the demon dogs with effortless ease.
The bodies of the slain dogs turned to ash and vanished instantly.
The old man's intimidating presence made even the barely conscious Aster tremble.
With a terrifying gaze, the old man advanced toward the demon.
No matter how the dogs attacked, it was useless.
Realizing this, Baskerville stepped forward himself.
"You'll pay for this, old man! I'll kill you and feed your flesh to my dogs!"
The demon attacked first.
He bit into his hand, forcing his blood to erupt. The moment it left his body, it formed into a long, straight spear.
Spinning it once or twice, Baskerville thrust it forward—aimed straight at the old man's chest, his heart.
But the old man twisted his body slightly, as if he had foreseen the attack, and deflected the spear with his sword.
Gritting his teeth, the demon tightened his grip and stepped forward again—
And in the next instant, his life ended.
The old man simply walked past him.
So fast and precise was his swordplay that Baskerville never even saw when his head was severed.
It happened in an instant.
Even with his head cut off, the demon screamed.
"You damn old man! I'll—"
The old man frowned at the severed head. Then he raised his hand, conjuring green flames.
The moment the demon saw the fire, his eyes widened, his voice cut off.
The old man hurled the flames, burning the demon away completely.
From the ground, Aster watched everything unfold.
He tried to move—but the pain made it impossible.
'He's… strong…'
As the old man approached him, Aster's face turned pale, his eyes slowly closing.
Soon after, he lost consciousness entirely.
***
Aster awoke inside the hut, his eyelids fluttering as he slowly regained awareness. He grimaced, as if waking from an unnaturally deep sleep.
After a while, when the haze cleared, he tried to lift his head—
But the heavy injuries from the previous day stopped him.
'Where am I?!'
He managed to sit up with difficulty.
His entire body was wrapped in cloth. The bandages covered the bite marks left by the demon dogs, holding his aching muscles together.
Then he noticed something else.
The cloth that had been tied over his eyes was gone.
It had already been missing when he approached the hut—but only now did he realize it.
Trying to remember when he'd removed it sent a sharp pain through his head.
"My head… it's going to split!"
He clutched it tightly.
At that moment, the old man entered the hut.
He acted as if nothing unusual had happened the night before.
"Does your head hurt?" he asked.
His voice was deep and rough, yet calm.
"Yes," Aster replied, then asked, "Where am I?"
"In my hut," the old man said, stirring a pot.
Aster quickly understood what had happened.
"Thank you… for saving me."
He looked at the old man, waiting for his name.
"Valorant," the man replied shortly.
Valorant studied Aster and began asking questions.
"What were you doing out here?"
"I have nowhere to go."
"Where are your parents?"
The question struck deep.
"They're gone. More precisely… they're no longer alive. A demon attacked our village and killed my mother. My father left us six years ago."
Valorant scooped food from the pot into a bowl and handed it to him.
"Eat. You'll regain some strength."
As Aster accepted the bowl, another question surfaced.
"Where is my sword?"
"Somewhere safe. Recover your strength first. Then I'll answer your questions."
With that, Valorant stepped outside.
Driven by a full day of hunger, Aster devoured the food quickly.
After eating, he felt some strength return to his body.
He decided to go outside.
Barely managing to stand, he moved along the hut's wall until he reached the door.
The moment he stepped out, sunlight he hadn't seen in what felt like a century blinded him.
Shielding his eyes, Aster searched for Valorant.
The old man was sitting a short distance away.
"Where is the cloth that covered my eyes?" Aster asked.
"What do you need that for?" Valorant replied with a question of his own.
"Don't my eyes frighten you?"
"No," he answered firmly.
Aster paused for a moment, then spoke.
"Then… teach me swordsmanship. And teach me that fire magic you used."