Chapter: Reunion and the Demon of Tyranny

Snowflakes drifted gently down around them, settling in thin layers over the ground and Tobi’s still form. Shu, face tense with focus, channeled his kantar into Tobi’s body, his palms glowing faintly with energy.

“That’s weird,” Shu muttered. “I don’t feel Dracula’s presence in him at all.”

Hannah’s gaze remained fixed on Tobi as she replied, “It’s to be expected. The mask forcibly draws out the user's kantar to its utmost limit and evolves it using dark magic. Dracula existed in Tobi’s body only because he projected his consciousness through the kantar he passed on to him. It was meant to be a temporary state, a slow process where he would hijack Tobi’s brain by overtaking his kantar system.”

She paused briefly, brushing a strand of snow-dampened hair behind her ear.

“But... we stopped that when we used the Eraser all those years ago. Since then, it was only a matter of time before Dracula was completely erased from this world. The mask accelerating Tobi’s kantar to its maximum output just hastened the process.”

A quiet moment passed before she added, more somberly, “That said... Tobi’s kantar did mingle with Dracula’s for a long time. There’s a high chance it now holds demonic traits.”

Shu absorbed her words, then slowly stood up, pulling his hand away from Tobi’s chest. “His kantar is stabilizing. The healing process has started. He’ll be unconscious for a while.”

He exhaled, a puff of steam rising in the cold air. “In the meantime, we need a strategy to enter the demon realm. We’ll be up against the Demon Lords—maybe even all nine of them at once. And the worst part? According to what I learned in the Celestial Realm... Dracula was the weakest one.”

A sharp wind blew past them, rustling the cracked leaves around the ruined temple.

Hannah sighed deeply, crossing her arms. “Shu... I know you don’t want to hear this. But the three of us can’t do this alone. We need the entire team. And... we both know we won’t find the Hanz we once knew. So we need him.”

Shu’s expression darkened. He clenched his fists, his voice low and cold.

“We agreed not to speak of Leon anymore. He’s—”

“Wild,” Hannah interrupted. “And doesn’t care about consequences, I know. But we need him. And let’s not pretend we don’t both know he’ll come the moment he hears it involves Hanz.”

Grinding his teeth, Shu looked away before exhaling. “I guess we have no choice… But we’ll wait until Tobi wakes up.”

Without another word, Shu gently lifted Tobi’s unconscious body and followed Hannah into the ancient temple.

The interior of the temple was cold and quiet. Dust clung to every surface, and dim lanterns flickered faintly with old kantar-infused flames. Cracks ran along the stone walls, whispering of battles fought and lost in centuries past.

They waited in silence for several hours, the only sound being the wind howling faintly outside through broken stained glass.

Eventually, Tobi’s eyes flickered open.

The first thing he saw was Shu’s face.

“Shu...? What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “I thought you’d still be in the Celestial Realm... taking Hannah’s place.”

Shu smiled faintly. “That was the plan. But things changed.”

He paused, his expression hardening slightly. “Tobi, a lot has happened—but I’ll start with what matters most. Hanz is in trouble. Not the Hanz we knew… the younger Hanz. The one who would eventually become him. He’s a prisoner in the demon realm.”

Tobi sat up slowly, holding the back of his head and wincing. “Hanz is a friend… of course I’ll help.”

His eyes scanned the worn stone ceiling before flicking around. “Where are the monks? Also… how long was I out?”

Shu hesitated.

“They’re dead,” he finally said. “They must have had a death wish, making you wear the Dragon’s Mask.”

Tobi stared at him, stunned. The guilt crept into his expression like a shadow crawling over his face.

“So… I killed them,” he murmured, not as a question—but as a truth he couldn’t ignore.

Shu gently placed a hand on Tobi’s shoulder, his voice softened.

“It wasn’t your fault. They did it to themselves, knowing what happens to anyone who wears that mask.”

Tobi shook his head. “It doesn’t change the fact that I killed them.”

A silence followed before he continued, voice filled with regret. “After the war, Dracula’s presence inside me grew stronger, harder to control with each passing day. I tried everything—spiritual mediums, martial arts, self-discipline... but nothing worked.”

His eyes turned distant.

“The last temple I visited referred me here. They said this place had a forbidden technique that could rid someone of inner demons. I came here, desperate. The monks gave me the mask, said all I had to do was wear it… and fight my way through the darkness it would plunge me into. If I won, I’d gain control over Dracula.”

He laughed bitterly.

“I overestimated myself. The darkness was too much—I lost.”

Without thinking, Shu pulled him into a hug. “It wasn’t your fault, Tobi. You weren’t in control. The monks chose that path, even knowing the risks. That technique was forbidden for a reason.”

At that moment, the temple doors creaked open.

Hannah stepped inside, holding a paper bag of food and brushing snow from her coat. Seeing them, a small smile crept onto her lips.

“He’s finally awake,” she said playfully. “Sheesh, Tobi, I thought you were gonna sleep forever.”

Tobi and Shu pulled apart. Tobi turned to her with a small, warm smile. “Hannah. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Ten years… and you still look the same.”

Hannah let out a chuckle. “Perks of being a former celestial. I’ll age a lot slower than you standard humans.”

She walked over and handed them food before folding her arms, serious once again.

“Well. Now that you’re back on your feet... it’s time to recruit the last member of the squad.”

Her eyes locked on Tobi’s.

“Leon.”

Tobi’s smile vanished, replaced with a mix of shock and anger. “Why the hell would we recruit the bastard who killed your brother?”

Night had fallen over the crime-ridden city of Pata. The rain poured in steady sheets, forming shallow puddles on the cracked pavement and in the alleyways that twisted like the veins of a beast.

Two third-class demon soldiers sprinted through a narrow alley, their boots barely making a sound as they splashed through the water.

“Is he still on our tail!?” one hissed in panic.

The other glanced behind them, peering into the suffocating shadows. Nothing.

“All good,” he said breathlessly. “Looks like we lost him.”

SLASH.

The first demon’s head was split open, a massive greatsword cleaving through it like paper. Black blood splattered across the wall.

The second demon froze. “It’s you... The Demon of Tyranny,” it whispered, stumbling backward.

From the shadows, a pistol rose with eerie calm. BANG. A single shot, clean and precise, blew through the demon’s head.

A figure stepped into the light.

He looked to be in his early 30s, light-skinned with long, dark hair that draped over his left eye. Around 176 cm tall, with a lean muscular build and broad shoulders. He wore a white V-neck shirt beneath a long black leather coat, faded blue jeans, and black combat boots. Fingerless gloves covered his hands—his left gripping the smoking pistol, the right resting his greatsword across his shoulder.

Black blood dripped from the sword’s tip as he glanced at the corpses. A faint smirk tugged at his lips, his almond-colored eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“That makes forty-seven demons in total,” he muttered. “Looks like I’m done here. Time to cash in my reward.”

He bent down, took a picture of the bodies with his phone, and vanished into the rain, leaving only death behind.