It wasn't a baseless assumption—it was instinct.
The foundation is loneliness.
The curse devouring Julian and Theodore was a parasitic enchantment, one that seeped into the human body and fed upon their very life force, gnawing away at their organs and minds. Though the method was ancient and refined, its essence was the same as the Solitude used across the Thousand Continents.
And Lee Seong-jun, the Blood Demon—ruler of the Blood Cult—knew it well. Loneliness was something he had lived with, mastered, and weaponized.
'It can be cured,' he decided.
The Blood Cult had never been about justice. It was brutality draped in faith, violence cloaked as truth. To him, loneliness was both a curse and a familiar companion. The affliction implanted in Julian and Theodore was more sophisticated—rooted directly in the brain, the seat of human will.
'Assimilation,' he realized. 'They've merged it with the mind itself.'
Even the greatest sorcerers would find it impossible to sever such a bond. But Seong-jun was not a mere human sorcerer. He was something beyond that—a being who had reached into realms mortals feared to touch.
The immortals possessed the art to forcibly break such links, ripping control away from the caster. He lacked their divine grace, but he had something else—something raw, primal, and boundless.
'Youth,' he thought. 'The essence of life itself.'
It was the foundation of vitality. Even if his spellwork lacked elegance, the sheer force of his will—of his living energy—would fill every gap. With it, he could purge the Solitude festering in their minds.
"Do not open your mouths," Seong-jun warned. "Do not faint. It will feel like dying—but endure it."
Julian and Theodore gave no verbal reply, but their bodies remained still, submitting to the torrent of blood energy now swirling around them.
"Then let's begin."
At his words, blood spread outward in rippling waves, weaving itself into a massive, crimson formation. From its shifting center, tendrils of energy extended, coiling toward the three of them—Julian, Theodore, and Seong-jun himself.
A deep hum filled the air.
The divine language—the script of gods—etched itself into the formation, stabilizing the flow of power. Most sorcerers would collapse attempting such a feat. Even Seong-jun, whose strength came from his martial path, felt sweat pour down his body, drenching his clothes.
But failure was not an option.
Wheee!
His blood surged with confidence. Guided by his will, it pierced into the invisible depths of the curse. It didn't touch the Solitude directly—it encircled it, forming a barrier around the malignant presence. Then, with a surge of divine command, he cut it off from its master.
The power binding them to Leopold was severed.
The Solitude, once thrashing in their minds like a seizure, stilled—but Seong-jun wasn't finished.
If he left even a trace, it would regrow.
Drawing a long breath, he pressed forward again, his aura plunging deep into the heart of the curse. The Solitude convulsed in resistance, but the blood surrounding it crushed its defiance. Slowly, the infection turned crimson, swallowed by Seong-jun's will.
'It's over.'
Raising his blood-soaked hand, he drew forth the manifestation of the curse—a writhing, insect-like creature trapped in a floating sphere of blood.
"Extinct," he said.
Crunch.
The sphere imploded, and the creature vanished in a burst of scarlet light.
A wave of resonance rippled through the room. Julian and Theodore's swollen veins relaxed, their breathing steadied. The Solitude was gone. The shackles that Leopold, the Chairman of the World Returnees' Association, had placed upon them had been completely annihilated.
"What… what is this!?"
"How could this be possible?"
Shock filled the room. The executives had once believed the Chairman's curse unbreakable. Countless attempts—through research, rituals, and divine aid—had failed. Yet Seong-jun had undone it at a glance.
"Completely eliminating Solitude," Theodore whispered.
Julian stared at Seong-jun as if seeing a miracle.
Even Anna could only laugh softly, a mix of awe and disbelief coloring her tone. "You never stop surprising me…"
Now she understood beyond doubt.
Lee Seong-jun wasn't merely gifted—he was transcendent. His ability rivaled even that of dragons, the rulers among higher beings. He was born to command.
"I really did choose my contractor well," Anna murmured with a proud smile.
Then Julian and Theodore fell to their knees, their voices trembling with relief and devotion.
"I survived… I'm alive!"
"Thank you—thank you so much!"
Their salvation was more than deliverance from death—it was rebirth.
They bowed low, heads touching the floor.
"You saved our lives," Julian said.
"We'll devote what remains of them to you, Lee Seong-jun," Theodore added.
It wasn't a vow of subservience, but of faith—a promise born from gratitude, not coercion.
But Seong-jun simply waved his hand.
"I just didn't want what's mine to be broken by someone else," he said plainly.
His calm words silenced them. Then, his gaze sharpened.
"Now, let's finish the conversation we started."
Julian nodded. "Leopold—the Chairman of the World Returnees' Association—has appeared again. He's summoned all executives. His target isn't confirmed, but… his final destination is likely Korea, where the Axis wasn't destroyed."
Anna's earlier smile faded. "So he's finally making his move."
Julian's tone darkened. "Knowing the Chairman's nature, he's already prepared. He wouldn't reveal himself unless he was confident."
Seong-jun's lips curved slightly. "Then it's time."
The moment had come to destroy the World Returnees' Union—the organization that sought to fuse dimensions and defy reality itself.
"I'll end this tomorrow night."
Everyone froze.
The declaration was madness—one night wasn't enough to prepare for war. Any other man would have been called a fool. But this was Lee Seong-jun.
If he said he would win, he would.
Anna, Julian, and Theodore exchanged looks, then nodded. "We'll recover and prepare."
But Seong-jun shook his head. "No. I'm going alone."
"What!?"
"That's too dangerous!"
They protested immediately. The World Returnees' headquarters was the heart of enemy territory—home to Leopold, Dominic, Lorenzo, and Frederick. Even Seong-jun couldn't predict what traps awaited.
But he didn't waver.
"Their goal is the Axis. Someone has to protect Korea."
If the Axis fell, Gaia itself would weaken. Offense meant nothing without defense. His plan might have been reckless—but it was also the only one that made sense.
Julian swallowed hard. "…Are you sure you'll be okay?"
Seong-jun only smiled in response.
That was all the answer they needed.
Julian's eyes steadied. He's not someone who loses.
"We'll protect the Axis here," he vowed.
At the top floor of the World Returnees' Association headquarters, Leopold Reinhardt sat in silence, his fingers twitching faintly.
"Chairman…?" Dominic asked nervously.
Leopold's brow furrowed. Moments ago, he had used Solitude to punish Julian and Theodore for their defiance. But something had gone wrong.
"The connection was severed," he muttered.
Dominic's face paled. "You mean—?"
Leopold's eyes glowed coldly. "The Solitude has been erased."
Dominic's throat tightened at the barely contained fury in his superior's tone.
"Lee Seong-jun," Leopold said slowly. "So it's you. To perfectly destroy a curse crafted by my own hand…"
He leaned back in his chair, a thin smile spreading across his face—equal parts admiration and murderous intent.
"…how fascinating."