Morning came without light.
Smoke still hung over the fortress, thick enough to choke the sun. Demonic ash coated the ground like black snow. Arin stood alone near the broken gate, staring at the place where the high demon had vanished.
The words wouldn't leave his head.
You're connected to her.
Footsteps approached.
Rudra stopped beside him, staff resting against his shoulder. His expression was calm, but his chakra was tightly controlled—like a sealed blade.
"Walk with me," he said.
They moved through the ruined corridors of the fortress, past wounded hunters and silent pyres. No one spoke to Arin, but everyone watched him.
Not with fear.
With uncertainty.
Inside the inner hall, Rudra drew a circle on the stone floor using chalk mixed with chakra dust. Ancient symbols flared faintly as the formation activated.
"Sit," Rudra ordered.
Arin obeyed.
Rudra pressed two fingers against Arin's forearm—directly over the markings left by the demon blood.
The reaction was immediate.
Chakra surged violently, dark threads weaving through Arin's natural flow. The circle lit up, alarms ringing in Rudra's mind.
Rudra pulled back.
"You didn't just drink demon blood," he said slowly. "You resonated with it."
Arin clenched his fists. "What does that mean?"
Rudra met his gaze. "Most humans who consume demon blood either die… or lose themselves. Their bodies reject it."
He paused.
"Yours answered it."
Silence fell.
Rudra continued, "Demon blood carries memory, will, lineage. When it enters a human, it tries to overwrite them."
Arin swallowed. "And me?"
Rudra's voice dropped. "It recognized something already inside you."
Before Arin could speak, a hunter rushed in, breathless.
"Master Rudra—he's awake."
They moved quickly.
In the infirmary, a wounded scout lay trembling, eyes wide with terror.
"They're moving," the scout whispered. "Not like before. The demons aren't raiding… they're searching."
"Searching for what?" Rudra asked.
The scout's eyes locked onto Arin.
"For him."
The air turned heavy.
Rudra dismissed the others and placed a sealing charm on the door.
"Listen carefully, Arin," he said. "There are truths I didn't intend to share yet."
He turned, facing the wall where an ancient mural was carved—humans and demons linked by chains of blood.
"Long ago, there were humans who could stand between worlds," Rudra said. "Not fully human. Not fully demon."
Arin's chest tightened.
"They were called Links."
The word struck like thunder.
"Links were created through forbidden rituals," Rudra continued. "A human child bound to a demon lineage. Not possession. Connection."
Rudra looked back at Arin.
"Your sister wasn't taken randomly."
Arin stood up so fast the circle shattered.
"What do you mean?"
Rudra didn't flinch. "She is the key to stabilizing the bond. And you—"
He pointed at Arin's chest.
"—are the weapon meant to open it."
Arin's vision blurred.
Memories flashed—his sister smiling, the demons appearing, the way they spoke his name as if they already knew him.
A sudden pain tore through his arm.
The markings ignited again.
This time, a voice echoed—not outside, but inside his mind.
Do you feel it now, Link?
Arin dropped to one knee, teeth clenched.
Rudra stepped back, alarmed. "Arin—seal it! Focus your chakra inward!"
Arin forced his chakra down, struggling to suppress the invading presence.
The voice laughed softly.
Too late for denial. The chain has already tightened.
The pain vanished as suddenly as it came.
Arin breathed heavily.
Rudra stared at him.
"That voice," Rudra said. "You heard it, didn't you?"
Arin nodded.
"It called me a Link."
Rudra closed his eyes.
Then spoke the words Arin feared most.
"That means the Demon King knows you exist."
Far beneath the world, within a throne room of living bone, the Demon King opened his eyes.
"The blood has awakened," he said.
Chains across the chamber rattled.
"Send the collector," he commanded. "I want the sister… and the Link alive."
To be continue...