The moon hung low that night, larger than usual—almost as if it were watching.
Ji-hyeon sat near the edge of the riverbank, feet dipped in cold water. He listened to the flow, but his mind wandered elsewhere. His senses had grown sharper. So had his memories.
> "The blood of the Demon King still flows in me... but I am not him."
He clenched his fist.
He had lived quietly for twelve years. But the world, it seemed, no longer wished for him to remain hidden.
---
In a distant land beyond the hills, inside an ancient tower lined with crystal runes, several hooded figures stood in silence.
One of them raised a hand. "The mark has reappeared."
Another's voice trembled. "Are you sure? After so long…?"
A third voice responded coldly, "The Demon King was not erased. He was reborn."
Lightning cracked across the sky above the tower.
They all turned to face a glowing crystal orb. Within it: the faint silhouette of a boy… wearing glasses.
---
Back in the village, strange events began occurring.
A merchant brought news—rumors of magical beasts wandering too close to human settlements. Of great academies sending scouts to find candidates. Of celestial events aligning for the first time in centuries.
Then came the letter.
Not delivered by bird.
Not sent by mage.
But appearing inside Ji-hyeon's old notebook, the one he wrote in every night.
One line written in silver ink:
> "You are summoned. Preparations begin."
Ji-hyeon blinked, then turned the page.
Blank.
No sender. No seal.
But he felt it again—fate knocking at the door.
And this time, he wouldn't ignore it.