CHAPTER 48 – I HAVE BECOME A DEMON

Night fell slowly over the city of Liyun. After a day filled with laughter and the warmth of the hot springs, the city rested in peace. But not for Jian Mo.

His steps carried his tall frame beyond the city limits, along a quiet path rarely tread. The night wind whispered softly, carrying the scent of damp earth and leaves turning yellow. There were no lights, no laughter.

Only silence.

And before him now lay the place he had long avoided.

The settlement, once filled with the sounds of rigorous training and the laughter of martial artists, now held only the remnants of burned wood, crumbling walls, and long-abandoned earth.

Jian Mo stood frozen.

This place... was where everything ended.

His steps were heavy as he walked into the heart of the ruins. Rotten wood creaked beneath his feet. Invisible smoke still seemed to hang in the air. The breeze carried faint echoes—screams, sobs, and the crackling of fire consuming all.

A voice in his mind whispered softly, pulling his memory back to that night.

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"Protect the other disciples, Jian Mo!" his Master's voice rang out, strained and bloodied.

A younger Jian Mo could only stand in the corner of the burning hall, his body trembling, his hands bleeding from moving debris to save others.

At the center of the hall stood a man in a black robe, a cruel smile on his face.

Seo Whan.

"I've had enough of living in your shadow, Brother. Your teachings of compassion and balance... were chains."

The Master staggered, standing with a cracked sword in hand. "You've lost your way, Whan… You've let ambition blind your heart..."

Seo Whan chuckled softly. "No. I finally see clearly."

A swift slash, a gush of blood, and the Master collapsed to the ground.

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"MASTER!!!" Young Jian Mo screamed, but his voice was drowned by the roar of fire and ruin.

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That memory struck Jian Mo like a storm. His body trembled. He knelt slowly, his hand touching the earth now overgrown with wild grass. But here—this was where his Master drew his final breath. This was where the last ideal of his teacher was buried beneath betrayal.

Tears began to fall.

Slowly.

Silently.

"It's been so long..." he whispered. "But I can still feel this wound like it was yesterday."

He raised his head, gazing at the night sky. The moon was veiled by clouds. The stars refused to shine tonight.

Jian Mo clenched the soil in his hand. "I avenged you, Master… I killed him… Seo Whan died by my hand."

Yet his voice trembled.

The hand that grasped the earth now clenched into a fist, his body shivering. Tears flowed more freely, soaking the ground where so much blood had once been spilled.

"But…"

Jian Mo's voice cracked. He bowed his head, shoulders shaking. His sobs broke the silence of the night—not the cries of a child who lost a father, but the grief of a grown man who had lost his soul.

"But I also lost myself, Master…"

He turned to the ruins that once were the main gate, where his teacher used to enjoy tea with disciples, smiling gently.

"I'm no longer who I once was. I don't even know when it happened… maybe when I killed Seo Whan… or even before that…"

He looked at his palm.

A hand once taught to give, now only knew how to destroy.

A hand once meant to protect, now spilled blood for vengeance.

"Master… I repaid your vengeance… but I… have become a demon."

The words were soft, yet they echoed with weight through the silent ruins. The night remained still. No comforting wind, no voice to soothe. Only silence, bearing witness.

He stayed there, bowed low, letting his tears fall freely, letting all the wounds he had buried for years reopen under the night sky.

And yet… amidst his trembling, Jian Mo slowly stood. Though his tears still fell, his face was steadier. His eyes looked at the ruins, not with hatred… but with clarity.

He wiped his tears.

"If I have become a demon… then I will make sure no one else falls victim to another demon."

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