Ch-8 “What If He Finds Out?”

[Backstory — The Pact of the Cave]

The air was thick with dread, as if the cave itself held its breath.

Young Vareon stood at its heart, trembling—not from cold, but from the weight of decision. A half-burnt scripture lay at his feet. His palms were bleeding from the ritual incisions carved by trembling hands. Runes drawn in ash and blood glowed faintly around him.

And then…he spoke.

"O almighty Demon King… please, grant me your power."

The words echoed off the cave walls like a curse carved into the stone.

And then—

The world shook.

A pulse of raw chaos energy burst outward, blowing out the torches. The summoning circle ignited in violet flame, and the temperature plummeted.

Two enormous eyes opened in the darkness before him.

Not glowing.

Not burning.

But watching—with such terrifying clarity that it felt as if they pierced through flesh, bone, memory, and soul.

And Vareon—he was seen.

Every corner of his mind was exposed.Every weakness.Every moment of doubt.Every memory—from childhood smiles to quiet sobs in an empty dormitory.

The Demon King did not speak for a long time.

And then, a voice deeper than death responded:

"Fine… I will help you."

And with that—

The chaos energy surged forward, roaring like a storm. It didn't just enter Vareon. It devoured him. His veins glowed. His heart nearly stopped. His body convulsed—and then stabilized.

A pact had been sealed.

Vareon was now a servant of the Demon King.

[Time Shift — The Manipulation Begins]

The cave faded. The scene shifted.

Now, Vareon was older—wiser, colder.

He stood before a council of economy officials from a small tributary state under the Ryehemian Empire. The meeting hall was quiet. Too quiet.

Until the screams began.

Vareon's sword sliced through flesh and fear with cold precision. The senior economists fell, one by one, while the minor officials trembled, cornered and terrified.

Vareon didn't threaten them.

He convinced them.

"They were traitors," he had said calmly."Corrupt. Poisoning your land. I'm here to fix it—for the sake of our empire."

They believed him. Or at least pretended to.

Within weeks, Vareon had complete control over the tributary's economy. Imports, exports, taxation, trade routes—everything filtered through his decisions. He replaced council members with loyal pawns. He rewrote ledgers, adjusted numbers, and ensured no one could trace the deaths back to him.

And all the while—he returned to the academy each day like nothing happened.

He smiled.

He studied.

He joked with Shang.

He sat beside Raizen.

No one suspected a thing.

[But Inside?]

Vareon still feared.

Every time he stepped into his father's castle—the Emperor's throne room—his heart beat faster.

Because the Emperor wasn't just his ruler.

He was Vareon's father.

And despite everything—the pact, the bloodshed, the lies—Vareon was still that boy who wanted to matter. Who wanted to be seen. Who wanted to be... enough.

And so, he made sure no economic meetings were ever held. He delayed schedules, redirected reports, and silenced informants—all to keep the truth buried just a little longer.

But deep down...

"What if he finds out?"

That question haunted him more than the Demon King's eyes ever could.