Dancing on the golden ashes

I looked ahead. Some of my loyal demons were circling a woman, trying to force her down to her knees. Her frame was slender, almost fragile at first glance, but there was something unmistakably sharp about her presence. Her features were mostly human—but not quite. Those eyes gave her away. Black sclera with glowing red pupils, flickering like dying coals in the dark. Her hair—jet black, cascading down like a curtain of midnight—framed skin so pale it looked untouched by sunlight, like moonlight carved her from porcelain.

"Hold on."

My voice cut through the rising tension with calm precision. I stepped forward. This wasn't just anyone. She had to be one of the natives, and that meant she was the key—something ancient in this broken land, a thread left behind by the past we needed to untangle.

Her gaze snapped to me, feral and confused, like a wild animal backed into a corner. Her lips moved fast, words tumbling out in sharp, guttural bursts. Unfamiliar, thick with panic. At first, they meant nothing—but then… it began to click. That ancient language comprehension skill I had nearly forgotten was finally doing its job.

"You're safe with us," I said, in her tongue. Calm. Measured. No reason to startle her more.

She froze. Her head tilted, eyes narrowing as if trying to peer through me. Her expression twisted—part disbelief, part suspicion. But there was a flicker beneath it. Something cautious. Something almost… hopeful.

"You can speak my language?" Her voice was low, unsure. She studied me like she couldn't decide if I was a hallucination, or something worse.

Of course she was confused. From her point of view, we were foreign invaders speaking in tongues that didn't belong to this world. Her body remained defensive, trembling slightly, and I could see how afraid she still was. Maybe my presence reminded her of the angels—those bastards who masqueraded as divine justice but brought only ruin. Maybe I looked too much like them. Even though I had become a demon, even though I stood on the other side now… that resemblance couldn't be ignored.

"I can speak your language. I can breathe the same air you do, but..." My voice dropped low, serious, without inflection. "I'm not quite one of you… and yet, I am."

I extended my hand toward her face. She flinched and instinctively pulled away, but I locked her in place with soul shackle. Invisible chains of will, binding her in place—not cruelly, not tightly, but enough to keep her still. My fingers brushed against her cheek.

Her skin burned. Not with fever or fear, but with something primal—like magma simmering just under flesh. It was warmth not meant for mortals. Was this what a true demon felt like? Not the reborn kind like me… but the original. The ones born of fire and shadow. I was something else entirely. A human turned demon. A bastard of two worlds, belonging to neither. So it only made sense to study her. Understand her. Learn what the true demon bloodline was like. If I was to survive here—if any of us were—I needed to understand the ancient kind we were supposed to succeed.

"Wh-what are you—?" Her voice broke under the weight of uncertainty.

"I'm not an angel, if that's what you're worried about." My voice was steady. Cold. "I was once human. Now I'm a demon. What you see… it's a trait of mine. And if the day ever comes when I meet an angel again—I'll slaughter them all. For what they did to you. For what they did to us."

I knew the truth now. The creator—he had joined them. I'd seen it in the vision. And if he was with them, then this wasn't just coincidence. There was a design behind all this. A string-puller. A hidden hand shaping the world and burying the truth.

I pulled my hand away. As the soul shackles faded, she took a step back, still tense, still trying to figure me out.

"You're not like them," she muttered. "But you don't smell like us either. A human… is that the scent you spoke of? It's not so different from ours… How did you end up in our world?"

"A wormhole." I lied without pause. There was no heart in my body to give me away, no pulse to race, no breath to hitch. I was cold. Empty. Lies flowed just as easily as truth. That, too, was a weapon. A double-edged one.

"Empress, shall we set up camp here for the night? The sun's already sinking."One of the men approached—once a nameless warrior in my empire, now a demon reborn through my sacrifice, loyal beyond death.

"Please do," I answered. My tone was flat, emotionless as always—but he grinned like I'd blessed him. I never understood that reaction. Somehow, they heard warmth in words I didn't lace with anything. Still… if it gave them hope, let them believe whatever they wanted.

"What tongue was that?" the woman asked, eyes lingering on me, then trailing upward to the horns on my head—cream-colored now, having changed with my evolution.

"It's called Korean," I replied. "But in this world, my people will learn yours. It's not difficult. But first… how about you tell me who you are, and what happened here?"

She stared for a moment longer. Then her voice came—soft, but firm, and heavy with memory.

"My father named me Vyreth. I'm the warrior daughter of the Aelyndris clan. We were once protectors of the demon realm—guardians of the balance. But then the angels came. They brought beasts with them and tore through our lands. A war of extinction. Our clans fell. Only a handful of us remain…" Her voice cracked. Tears welled up, fury shaking in her aura. "This place… it used to be beautiful. Green. Full of life. But the angels and the beasts destroyed it all. And why? Some ancient feud our ancestors started? How is that justice? Why are we the ones punished for their sins?"

Her energy flickered—wild, pained. I could feel her cultivation now. Soul Lord stage. Strong. More than most I'd met before. But power was only part of it. Their world might follow a different path of strength. I still didn't know the full rules here.

"I'm Lee Gaon," I said. "You can call me big sister. I've lived long enough to earn the title."

Her face twitched at that—something like surprise? Maybe longing. I couldn't tell. I didn't feel those things myself.

"You mean it?"

That voice. That small, hesitant tone. It was hope. A dangerous thing. But I understood what she was saying.

"Yes. And if you don't mind… join us. I want to find every last demon left in this world. Gather them. Grow strong. And when the time is right—wage war on those bastards who burned your home. Are you with me, Vyreth?"

I held out my hand.

She hesitated. Just long enough to mourn everything she'd lost. Then she made her choice.

"You don't need to say more," she said, placing her hand in mine. "If you're against them… then I'll follow you. And I know others will too. We'll rise again from ashes—and bring death to those who deserve it."