Weeks slipped by like fleeting shadows, yet for Chen Ming, each day felt like an eternity. He moved from village to village, always keeping to the fringes of civilization, never staying in one place for long. His body ached from the constant travel, and his heart weighed heavily in his chest, torn between guilt and confusion.
The kiss with the Demon King replayed in his mind endlessly, a storm of emotions he couldn't quite tame. Disgust with himself. Shame for what he felt. And yet, an undeniable warmth that refused to leave.
But there was no room for hesitation or introspection. Every moment spent dwelling on the past was a moment closer to being discovered. The Demon King's wrath wasn't something he could afford to face, not when his freedom hung by a fragile thread.
It was in a remote mountain town that Chen Ming finally felt a shred of normalcy. He worked at a small herb shop, exchanging labor for food and a place to sleep. The elderly owner asked few questions, and Chen Ming was careful to keep his presence unremarkable. The days passed in quiet monotony, the kind he hadn't known in years.
But peace was never meant to last.
One afternoon, as Chen Ming was sorting through a basket of dried roots, hushed voices reached his ears. The townsfolk gathered outside the shop, their murmurs laced with fear.
"Did you hear? The Blood Demon has been sighted nearby."
Chen Ming froze, his hands stilling over the roots. The Blood Demon? He'd heard of it before—a monstrous creature known for leaving carnage in its wake. Rumors spoke of villages decimated, entire populations wiped out overnight.
"The patrol guards didn't stand a chance," someone whispered. "They say it's heading this way."
The crowd broke into panicked murmurs, and Chen Ming's heart sank. The Demon King's domain was dangerous enough, but if the Blood Demon was truly nearby, this town would be no sanctuary.
That night, the tension in the air was suffocating. Chen Ming lay on his thin mat, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing. He should leave, he thought. Pack what little he had and keep moving. But where would he go? The Blood Demon wasn't bound by borders, and every step deeper into the Demon King's territory only increased the risk of being found.
And yet… his thoughts drifted back to the Demon King. The way his crimson eyes had burned with fury and something else that Chen Ming couldn't quite name. Why had the Demon King kissed him? Why had he… kissed back?
The memory made his cheeks flush, but he pushed it away. It didn't matter now. All that mattered was survival.
The next day, Chen Ming prepared to leave. He packed a small bundle of supplies, his movements careful and deliberate. The shopkeeper watched him with a sad smile, but said nothing. Perhaps she understood. Or perhaps she was simply too scared to ask.
As he stepped outside, the sun dipping low in the sky, a distant roar shook the earth. Chen Ming's blood ran cold. The sound was guttural, inhuman—a harbinger of death.
The someone was close.
Panic erupted in the streets. Families grabbed what they could and fled, their screams echoing through the narrow alleys. Chen Ming's instincts screamed at him to run, but something held him back. A child, no older than five, stood frozen in the middle of the street, tears streaming down her face as the chaos unfolded around her.
"Damn it," Chen Ming muttered under his breath.
Without thinking, he darted toward the girl, scooping her up in his arms. She clung to him tightly, sobbing into his shoulder as he ran. Behind him, the roar sounded again, closer this time, accompanied by the sound of splintering wood and crumbling stone.
Someone dangerous was here.
Chen Ming's heart pounded as he weaved through the panicked crowd, his grip on the child firm. He didn't dare look back, but he could feel the heat of the creature's presence, the oppressive weight of its bloodlust pressing down on him.
And then, just as he thought they might make it out, a shadow loomed ahead. The stranger towered over them, its eyes glowing like molten fire, its claws dripping with crimson. It let out a deafening roar, and Chen Ming's blood turned to ice.
"Not now," he whispered, tightening his hold on the child. "Not like this."
Just as the stranger lunged, a flash of dark energy streaked across the sky, slamming into the creature with enough force to shake the ground. Chen Ming stumbled, shielding the girl with his body as debris rained down around them.
When the dust settled, a figure stood between him and the Blood Demon, shrouded in a dark aura. Crimson eyes met his, and Chen Ming's breath caught in his throat.
The Demon King.
His expression was unreadable, but his voice was like a blade, sharp and unyielding. "You dare run from me, Chen Ming?"
Chen Ming's heart sank. He had nowhere left to hide.