What were the devils planning?

Shan turned onto his side, his mind racing. Temper had been there to steal ichor, but why? What did the devils want with it? Ichor wasn't just some magical essence; it was the lifeblood of celestial power. To steal ichor was to tamper with the very foundation of the gods' existence.

His fists clenched as he remembered the fleeting figure of Legion. That devil had appeared out of nowhere, snatched the stolen ichor, and vanished before anyone could react. Even the Celestial King, with his unparalleled strength, hadn't been fast enough to stop him.

"Legion," Shan muttered under his breath. The name alone sent a chill down his spine.

He sat up, running a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of it all. "Why didn't Temper just let Legion handle the theft in the first place? Legion can teleport. He could've been in and out without anyone noticing. Why send someone less capable like Temper?"

The pieces didn't fit, and that only made him more uneasy. Were the devils testing something? Or were they intentionally creating a distraction?

Shan's thoughts shifted to the ichor itself. Five vials were stolen. Five. That wasn't random. The devils didn't take all the ichor, which meant they only needed a specific amount—or they wanted to avoid alarming the gods too much.

"Rosy," Shan whispered to himself. She had mentioned stopping the devils earlier, but he'd brushed it off, wanting to focus on her safety. Now, he wondered if she was right. Maybe they couldn't just stand by and let the gods handle it.

A soft knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts. "Shan?" It was Rosy's voice, gentle but concerned.

He got up and opened the door to find her standing there, a blanket draped over her shoulders. "Can't sleep?" he asked.

Rosy shook her head. "Neither can you, it seems." She looked at him closely. "You're thinking about the devils, aren't you?"

Shan sighed, stepping aside to let her in. "Yeah. I can't stop thinking about what happened. The way the Celestial King killed Temper, the ichor being stolen... it doesn't make sense. Something bigger is going on."

Rosy nodded, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "The devils don't act without a plan. If they wanted ichor, it's for a reason. Maybe they're trying to create something—or someone."

"Someone?" Shan asked, frowning.

Rosy's eyes darkened. "I've heard stories... whispers from the gods. There's a ritual devils can perform using ichor. It's forbidden knowledge, but if they succeed, they could create something more powerful than even the gods. A being that could tip the balance of power forever."

Shan's chest tightened. "And now they have five vials of ichor."

Rosy looked at him, her expression grave. "That's enough to make their plan a reality."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of their realization hung heavy in the air.

Shan finally broke the silence. "We can't just sit here and do nothing, Rosy. If the gods won't stop this, maybe we have to."

Rosy hesitated. "But Shan, what can we do? We're not strong enough to fight devils—not yet."

Shan's gaze hardened, a spark of determination igniting within him. "Then we get stronger. We find out what the devils are planning, and we stop them before it's too late. For the sake of the gods, the mortals... for everyone."

Rosy placed a hand on his shoulder, her eyes filled with both fear and admiration. "Then I'm with you, Shan. Whatever it takes."

He nodded, a small smile breaking through the tension. "Good. Because I think we're going to need each other more than ever."

As the two sat in the dim light of Shan's room, the weight of their shared mission settled over them. They didn't know where the path ahead would lead, but one thing was certain: they couldn't ignore the storm that was coming.

The morning sun bathed Shan's village in a warm, golden light. Birds chirped melodiously, and the gentle breeze carried the fresh scent of dew-kissed grass. Shan and Rosy walked side by side toward the riverside, where they often met Master Yang for their morning lessons.

"Master Yang should be here by now," Shan said, his eyes scanning the familiar path ahead. The calm rippling of the river added a sense of serenity to the scene, but something felt off.

As they approached the small wooden hut near the riverside, Shan noticed that the door was ajar. He stopped in his tracks, an uneasy feeling creeping into his chest.

"Why is the door open?" Rosy asked, her voice laced with concern.

Shan stepped forward cautiously and peered inside. The hut was empty—no sign of Master Yang. Instead, on the table near the window, a single folded letter caught his eye.