"That energy just now… It felt more overwhelming than Kaiser's. Maybe—just maybe—it's possible with this man," he whispered, a flicker of defiance igniting in his heart for the first time in years.

The brief moment of awe was fleeting. Celebration turned to routine, and reality crashed down like a cage of steel. The cartel wasted no time in assimilating the newcomers, Baek Ri-hyun included, into the daily grind of forced labor. No exceptions. No mercy.

They marched Ri-hyun to the sprawling, pesticide-drenched farms hidden deep in the valley's cradle—vast plantations blooming with the cartel's prized crop: the Nyx flower. Its sickly sweet scent filled the air, a perfume of madness that clung to the lungs like tar.

"So this is the plant," Ri-hyun murmured, crouching to examine the unnatural bloom. The scent was intoxicating—cloying and almost sentient in its malevolence. "Just breathing this in for long enough would drive someone insane."

A brutal kick interrupted his thoughts, sending him sprawling into the dirt. A nearby guard, sneering behind a cigarette-stained mustache, cracked his whip as a warning. "No talking. Work."

Ri-hyun grunted, eyes narrowed, but rose without complaint. He played the part of the obedient laborer well. Behind that stoic mask, however, his mind was in motion. Every step was calculation. Every face—a name, a weakness. His gaze swept the farm, committing it all to memory. Positions. Schedules. Shifts. His instincts, honed over centuries of war, were already laying the groundwork for revolution.

The cold mountain air bit through their tattered clothes, gnawing at exposed skin. "Even the temperature here is used as a weapon," Ri-hyun noted. He reached out with his inner energy, discreetly channeling warmth into the bodies of those closest to him. The villagers flinched at first, then relaxed, a ghost of relief washing over their hollow expressions. It was subtle, almost imperceptible. But it was hope—and that was a dangerous thing.

They worked without rest. No break. No food. By mid-afternoon, the moans of the exhausted echoed across the field.

Cries broke the grim rhythm. Ri-hyun turned to see a commotion near the hunting party.

"What's happening?" he asked, stepping beside Ciro.

"It's Ael's father—the village chief," Ciro said quietly, a knot forming in his throat. "He collapsed. The drugs they've been forcing on him... He was already weak, but now..."

The scene was heart-wrenching. Ael knelt beside his father, pleading with cartel men who only laughed in reply.

"Please!" Ael begged, "I'll take his place! Let him rest! Please!"

A cold, mocking laugh rang out.

Lilith.

She strolled through the crowd like a queen among slaves, her crimson hair tied in a braid that swung like a whip. Her lips curled with amusement as she approached the dying man.

"To think our dogs would bark," she said with sickening delight.

Ri-hyun's gaze hardened, his attention zeroing in on her. "Who is she?"

"Lilith," Ciro whispered. "Kaiser's daughter. She manages the slaves when he's gone."

Lilith knelt by the old man and, with deliberate cruelty, placed a Nyx flower beside him. "Here. A present. For your loyalty."

The villagers recoiled in horror. Ael screamed in protest. But the old man's trembling fingers moved on their own, driven by addiction. He bit into the flower.

His body convulsed, purple veins spiderwebbing across his skin. His eyes rolled back, froth spilling from his mouth.

He died in agony.

The crowd fell silent. Not a sob. Not a whisper. Only the crackling of Lilith's torch as she poured alcohol over the corpse.

"No…" Ael sobbed, powerless.

"Burn the evidence," Lilith commanded coldly.

Ael's screams echoed as the flames consumed the body. His father—reduced to ash.

"Take him to the dungeon."

They dragged him away like an animal, locking him in the darkness of a cave. The walls were wet, the air stale. Ael sank into despair, his heart broken beyond recognition.

But then—light.

A blinding golden glow filled the cave, washing away the darkness.

Ael looked up. Baek Ri-hyun stood outside his cell, a golden aura pulsing from his body like the rising sun.

"Who are you?" Ael asked, his voice ragged.

"Baek Ri-hyun."

"How did you get in here?"

"That's not important," Ri-hyun said. "Do you want revenge?"

The question was a dagger.

Ael stared at him, broken and hollow.

"Yes," he whispered. "I want revenge."

"Then you'll need strength." Ri-hyun shattered the iron bars with a flick of his wrist and stepped inside.

"Sit. I'll open your meridians. It will hurt. But endure it."

Ael nodded, teeth clenched. Ri-hyun pressed his palms to Ael's back and sent his energy flowing through the boy's clogged, underdeveloped channels. Ael's body shook violently, sweat pouring down his brow as the heat coursed through him like fire.

That night, hidden in an abandoned farmhouse, the villagers gathered in secret. When Ael entered, his presence was different—stronger, steadier.

"But how—?" someone whispered.

Behind him stood Ri-hyun, silent.

Ael raised his voice. "It's time we take our lives back."

Shock turned to fear. Fear to doubt.

"Are you insane?" a man shouted. "They'll kill us!"

"They already are!" Ael shouted back. "Day by day, they're killing us. But tonight, we fight back."

He turned and knelt before Ri-hyun. "Give us vengeance, and we will give you loyalty."

Ciro followed suit. One by one, the others dropped to their knees.

"Stand," Ri-hyun commanded. "We will take back your freedom with blood and fire."

A horn sounded—an alarm.

Cartel men approached, weapons drawn.

"Ael," Ri-hyun said calmly. "Go."

With a roar, Ael charged, his hatchet swinging. The first guard never saw it coming.

Ri-hyun walked forward—calm, unhurried—toward the grand estate.

At the top of the stairs stood Kaiser, his black sword in hand.

"So you're the rat causing all this."

"I am," Ri-hyun said, a smirk touching his lips. "And I'm here for your head."

Kaiser pointed his blade. "Then come and take it."

Ri-hyun cracked his knuckles, golden energy rising around him like a storm.

"It's been a long time since someone dared to point a sword at me," he said, his voice low, dangerous. "Come, warrior. Show me you are worthy of the Martial God's attention."