Trudge, trudge.
Anetsha walked through the village, her head hung low. Her heart was a complicated mix of emotions—the pain of rejection, the understanding that Taesan had his reasons.
“You’re back.”
“Huh?”
Anetsha was taken aback. All the demons had gathered, waiting for her.
“What is everyone doing here?”
“There’s something we need to ask.”
Artnekia swallowed hard before asking.
“Did you drink all of the alcohol?”
It was a very strange question. At the very least, it wasn't something she expected all the demons to gather to ask. Anetsha, with a bewildered look on her face, shook the bottle.
“Yes, I did drink it.”
“Phew!”
“That’s a relief.”
The demons were visibly relieved. Just as Anetsha, confused, was about to ask what they meant.
Kwoong…….
A loud roar echoed from afar. The forest was torn apart as a shockwave washed over them.
“Ah?”
Anetsha’s face hardened. From the surging wave of power, she could feel a divine presence.
“Harmon……?”
The tracker.
She covered her mouth and looked at the demons. Just as she was about to shout for them to run, she realized something was strange. The demons were calmly looking toward the source of the roar.
“He’s finally here.”
“Wha-what is everyone doing! We have to run!”
“Run? From whom, might I ask?”
“From whom, you ask.”