The sky grew even darker, as if the world itself had turned its back on what was about to happen. The air trembled with venomous tension, and even the stones beneath his feet seemed to want to disappear, to hide deep within the earth rather than witness the coming events. Yeon Woo stood in the middle of a battlefield — surrounded by torn flesh, shattered helmets, and swords crunching in blood. His chest heaved with each breath, hot moisture dripped from his chin, sliding across slashed skin — but in his eyes burned only fire. Insatiable, black, merciless.
He felt no regret.
Only hunger.
And just when it seemed that the night would settle once more, wrapping him in its icy embrace, he heard footsteps.
Slow. Heavy. As if each step belonged to a being to whom the world itself bowed by birthright. These steps did not hide. They didn't attempt to be silent. They were a challenge.
A man emerged from the shadows.
Tall, upright, with a face untouched by age or time. His features were perfect — too perfect — as though sculpted from darkness itself. A black cloak, etched with invisible runes, draped heavily over his shoulders. And in his eyes burned something worse than death: cosmic boredom.
Yeon Woo understood immediately — this was no ordinary man. No, something else stood before him. Something that watched destruction without ever interfering. Something that weighed lives in its palm like a merchant evaluating spoiled goods.
The man stopped a few steps away.
"You killed my Hounds," he said quietly, his voice scraping like stone across steel. "A delightful sight. Exquisite."
Yeon Woo remained silent, every fiber of his being tensed, instincts screaming of mortal danger.
"Don't be so hasty, child," the stranger chuckled, raising a hand. "I'm not here to fight. Not yet."
The world around them seemed to freeze. The air thickened like tar. Every breath felt like torture.
"Who are you?" Yeon Woo rasped, fingers clenching with a crack.
The man tilted his head as if pondering whether he should answer.
"I am one of those who watch," he finally said. "One of those who choose. One of those who whisper."
Whisper. The word echoed in Yeon Woo's mind like a refrain of an ancient song, sung in a language unknown even to the gods.
The man stepped forward.
"You've awakened. You've crossed the line from which there is no return. You are no longer human. You are their enemy. Our ally. Or... our food."
Yeon Woo didn't flinch. Didn't step back.
"What do you want?"
The stranger smiled. It was the worst smile Yeon Woo had ever seen — empty, like infinity itself.
"A deal," he said, drawing a black seal from beneath his cloak. "You'll become our instrument. Our ash and our blade. We will give you power. True power. Endless. The kind that lets you devour entire worlds."
Yeon Woo looked at the seal. It breathed. It was alive. It whispered in tongues unknown, promising greatness he had never imagined.
But with every second, he felt it — this deal reeked not of freedom.
It reeked of chains.
"And if I refuse?" Yeon Woo asked, his voice sharp as a drawn blade.
The man leaned closer, his breath brushing Yeon Woo's skin.
"Then they'll tear you apart. Slowly. First they'll come in small waves — Hounds, Hunters, Phantoms. Then — storms. Then — the maelstrom. You will die, a forgotten speck on the edge of the world. And no one will remember your name."
The world around them trembled, as if the air itself couldn't withstand the tension.
Yeon Woo stared into the bottomless eyes of his visitor, and deep inside, one question echoed:
Freedom or survival?
Freedom smelled like death.
Survival smelled of blood and servitude.
The choice was simple.
And yet monstrously difficult.
He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the darkness inside him pulse like a heart.
When he opened them again, his voice was cold and sharp as a sword.
"I serve no one."
Silence, thick as black ice, settled between them.
The man watched him for a long time, as if assessing a new toy that had suddenly grown teeth.
Then slowly, he tucked the seal back beneath his cloak.
"Then we'll meet again, child," he said. "When you're lying in your own blood, begging for salvation... when you chew on your pride like the last scrap of flesh... I will come."
He turned, walking back into the shadows.
"And then," his voice echoed from the void, "you'll crawl to me yourself."
Yeon Woo watched him go until the night swallowed the silhouette whole.
His hands trembled.
Not from fear.
From rage.
From hatred.
He knew the choice made today had altered his fate forever.
Now he was alone.
Alone against the world.
But his eyes, glowing in the dark, made a silent promise:
If the whole world stands against me... I'll devour the whole damn world.