The next few days passed quietly.
At least, to everyone else.
But Ji-hyeon felt the shift in the air—the subtle change in how the wind moved through the trees, how shadows lingered just a little longer near the edge of his vision.
Whoever—or whatever—had watched him that evening... it hadn't gone far.
---
In the early morning, Ji-hyeon stood near the village well, waiting for the wooden pail to rise.
Baek Do-yun approached again, this time holding a basket of bread.
> "You meditate every day like an old man," he said, placing the basket down. "But I'm curious. Are you trying to become a priest or something?"
> "Not a priest," Ji-hyeon replied. "But I do wish to master something."
Do-yun raised an eyebrow. "Magic?"
Ji-hyeon didn't answer directly. He took the pail and began walking back toward his house.
Do-yun followed. "They say only nobles can use magic."
> "They say a lot of things."
---
Inside, Ji-hyeon's mother was preparing stew. Her hands moved swiftly, her face calm but tired. Life had never been easy, but she bore the burden with quiet strength.
> "Good morning, Ji-hyeon," she said, smiling gently. "And good morning, Do-yun. Will you stay for breakfast?"
Do-yun looked surprised. "Uh—sure, if that's okay…"
---
Later, as the two boys sat beneath the old tree behind Ji-hyeon's house, a faint breeze stirred the leaves.
Do-yun bit into a piece of bread and asked, "Why do you always talk like you're hiding something?"
Ji-hyeon looked toward the distant mountains. His voice was quiet, almost lost to the wind.
> "Because I am."
---
That night, as Ji-hyeon sat in his room, he opened the old, cracked book hidden beneath a loose floorboard.
The runes on its cover shimmered faintly, only visible under moonlight. It was the only relic he'd brought back—the only piece of his past life that had not burned away with the fall of his throne.
Inside were the forbidden spells of the Demon King, and though his power was gone, his knowledge remained.
> "Not yet," he whispered to the book. "They're not ready. I'm not ready."
But he would be.
Eventually.
---
And far beyond the village, cloaked in mist and silence, a figure stood atop a stone tower, peering into a crystal that shimmered with blue flame.
> "He has returned," the figure said.
> "And this time… he is not alone."