The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a paper lantern hanging from the wall. Outside, the muffled sounds of the inn — clinking cups, quiet footsteps, the occasional creak of wood — blended into a faint background hum.
Namaha sat cross-legged on the bed, his back resting lazily against the wooden headboard. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and steady, as if lost in thought. The faint moonlight slipping through the narrow window framed his silhouette in silver.
After a moment, his right hand shifted, and his gaze fell upon the storage ring on his index finger. The corners of his lips curved in an almost mischievous smile. Without a word, he reached into the ring's space and drew out an old, worn wooden doll.
He stared at it for a second, and the smile on his face deepened.
"Did you decide to talk?" he asked softly, almost like he was speaking to an old friend — or perhaps a trapped prey.
---
The scene shifted.
Inside the wooden doll was a vast, empty expanse — a boundless purple space, swirling with faint mist and oppressive silence. The air itself felt heavy, charged with an ancient, suffocating stillness.
A man stood there. No — not just a man.
A demon.
Two sharp red horns protruded from his head. His towering, muscular frame was encased in blood-red armor, a flowing black overcoat draped over his shoulders like the wings of a predator. Yet for all his imposing stature, his body trembled. His eyes — crimson, wild, and proud — were now wide with fear.
"This guy…" he muttered under his breath, voice shaking. "He can't be a normal mortal. I can't sense a shred of spiritual energy from him… but there's no way he's ordinary. Exactly… who the hell are you?"
The purple mist stirred.
A chill voice came from behind him.
"I am Namaha."
The demon's eyes widened further. He spun around — and froze.
Namaha was standing right behind him, smiling casually as if he had simply walked into someone's garden. The vast space seemed to bend around him, his presence sinking into every shadow.
The demon stumbled a step back. "H… how did you get in here?"
Namaha, completely relaxed, tilted his head. "What's so big about coming in here? I just came in here."
The demon's heart pounded. Just came in here? he thought, horror crawling up his spine. As if breaking into a divine prison was nothing more than walking through a door.
Swallowing hard, the demon straightened his posture and asked with forced calm, "Then… what do you want from me?"
Namaha's smile didn't fade. "Nothing much. First of all, you can't give me anything. You're too weak."
The demon's jaw clenched. Rage flickered in his eyes, but he buried it deep.
"How long have you been in here?" Namaha asked casually, as if making small talk.
The demon hesitated but answered, "I… don't know exactly. But I guess… five thousand years."
Namaha nodded slowly. "That's a long time for beings like you."
The demon frowned. "What do you mean by that? Aren't you a mortal?"
Namaha tilted his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. "When did I say I'm a mortal?"
Shock rippled through the demon. "Then… who are you?"
"I already told you," Namaha said, his tone light but absolute. "I'm Namaha. Now, let's end this meaningless conversation. Tell me — do you want to get out of here?"
The demon's eyes widened. "What? You… you can release me from here?" A spark of hope lit his expression.
"Of course I can," Namaha replied, "but before that, you have to promise me you'll join my team."
The demon blinked. "Team? What kind of team?"
Namaha scratched his cheek with an awkward smile. "I don't know. I just said it because it sounds cool."
The demon stared at him, expressionless.
Namaha shrugged. "I just want fun. And without a team and friends, how can I do it?"
"So… you're adventuring and you want me to join you so that you can… have fun?" the demon asked.
"Of course," Namaha said without hesitation.
The demon almost laughed, almost cried. This guy… this terrifying monster… is this really what he wants?
"Make a decision quickly," Namaha said, his tone lazy but unyielding. "I want to sleep."
The demon hesitated, his fists clenching. This is my only chance.
"I… accept your offer," he said through gritted teeth. "I want to be released from here."
Namaha's smile widened. He snapped his fingers.
A powerful shockwave exploded from the motion, and a blinding white light burst forth, flooding the purple space. The demon's eyes widened at the flash — and then everything shattered.
---
Back in the inn room, the wooden doll cracked, splintered, and finally shattered into countless pieces. A beam of white light shot out, and two figures emerged.
Namaha sat comfortably on the bed, smiling. The demon collapsed to the floor, clutching his head. When he opened his eyes and looked around, his breath caught. His entire body trembled.
Then, tears welled in his eyes.
"Finally… finally… FINALLY!" he roared. "After five thousand years, I'm free from that pathetic prison! Hahahaha! Just wait, Immortal Realm! I will take my revenge—"
Namaha coughed softly behind him.
The demon froze, turning to see Namaha watching him with that same amused smile. All his excitement evaporated instantly.
He dropped to his knees and clasped Namaha's feet. "Senior, thank you for saving me from that prison! I, the Demon Lord, will do anything for you!"
Inwardly, a cunning thought slithered through his mind. This man is far too powerful. If I win his trust, if I build a good relationship with him… perhaps he will help me take my revenge.
Namaha waved a hand. "Fine, fine. Just leave my feet and stand properly."
The demon lord obeyed instantly, clearing his throat.
"So you're a demon lord," Namaha said. "And what's this revenge you're talking about?"
The demon lord's expression shifted to sorrow. He covered his eyes with one hand. "Senior… it's a very long and sad story."
Namaha pulled his blanket over himself and lay back. "If it's long, then I don't have time."
The demon lord cried out, "Senior! It's not that long!" He thought quickly and added, "And it's interesting."
At the word interesting, Namaha immediately sat up, clutching a pillow like a curious child. His eyes sparkled.
The demon lord smiled awkwardly. This trick actually works.
Ye Muan drew in a slow breath, his eyes dimming with the weight of memory. Then, like a storyteller who had carried his tale for centuries, he began his tale.
"I was once a powerful and dominating Demon Lord. In my prime, I ruled the entire Demon Realm. My name alone was enough to shake armies and make kingdoms tremble. But…" His deep voice lowered, tinged with bitterness. "The hunger for power never ends. It gnawed at me, whispering that my dominion over demons was not enough. So, I waged war against the Human Realm."
His voice seemed to echo in the small room, as if the walls themselves were listening.
"I conquered more than half of their lands, crushing kingdoms and their so-called greatest warriors beneath my feet. No one could stand against me. Yet… the humans refused to yield. No matter how many times I struck them down, they came back—stronger. Even when their bodies were broken, their spirit refused to die."
Namaha sat silently, chin resting on his hand, as the story unfolded.
"I defeated their champions, destroyed their armies, burned their lands… and still, they would face me. Sometimes, a lone warrior would dare to stand against my entire army without fear. I couldn't understand it. Something was giving them power and courage beyond reason." His gaze turned distant. "So I watched them. I studied them."
He leaned forward slightly, voice lowering as though confessing a forbidden truth.
"I discovered they called it the power of emotions. The power of love. They drew strength for their families, their friends. Some were ready to die for their motherland, some for a loved one… and some even for strangers they wished to protect. I had never seen anything like it."
He chuckled bitterly. "The humans' strongest weapon was not a divine artifact, nor a mighty army. It was their emotions."
Namaha nodded slowly. "Mortals are really something else."
Ye Muan gave a faint, wry smile before continuing. "After observing them for so long, those emotions… began to affect me. I started to think… perhaps all these battles were meaningless. I took so much from them—families, homes, kingdoms—but i gained nothing. I don't know why the thought angered me so, but it did. So I left. I abandoned my conquest of the Human Realm, resigned my position, and went into seclusion."
His voice hardened again. "But then they came—Immortals from the Immortal Realm. They attacked without warning. It was the most intense battle of my life, but I defeated every immortal they sent."
Namaha's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "How many did you defeat?"
"Twenty immortals," Ye Muan replied with quiet pride.
Namaha clapped, grinning. Ye Muan's chest swelled, pride flickering across his face.
"I thought I had won… but then the Seven Immortal Lords of the Seven Immortal Palaces arrived. They claimed I was too dangerous—that one day, I could be a threat to them, just as I had been to the Human Realm. The Immortal Lord of first Immortal Palace sent one of his disciples to fight me. That man… was stronger than I expected. We fought for six days and six nights. The very ground between the Human and Demon Realms trembled from our battle."
His eyes darkened. "I threw everything I had at him, but neither of us could win. The Immortal Lords realized killing me outright was too risky—if I survived somehow, the consequences would be catastrophic. So they used a divine artifact… the Death Prison. That wooden dool is Death Prison. They sealed me inside it, stripping away my prime cultivation. Then they cast me into the Human Realm, locking me away in a cave."
The demon lord's hands tightened into fists.
"I turned myself into a spirit, hiding with an ancient spell so no one could find me. I was too weak to fight them again. Luckily, a merchant stumbled upon the doll. He was the son of that old lady you met earlier. He gave the doll to her for selling."
Namaha leaned back, thoughtful. "That old lady is really not simple."
"Indeed," Ye Muan said with a sigh. "People avoided buying the doll because of my lingering aura. They could feel something… unnatural about it. Until you came."
Namaha smiled. "And here we are."
"Thank you for saving me," Ye Muan said sincerely.
"If you want to thank me," Namaha replied with a mischievous grin, "make my adventures more fun."
Ye Muan thinks in his hear. "If I agree to join his team and win his favour then probably I can take my revenge." Ye Muan nooded and accept.
Namaha's smile shifted into something sharper. His eyes flickered toward the door. "How long are you going to listen out there?"
Ye Muan frowned. "What?"
"The door is open," Namaha said lazily. "You can come in."
Ye Muan's eyes widened. What is he talking about?
Outside, a woman froze mid-step. Her eyes widened in disbelief, a bead of sweat rolling down her cheek. "How did he know I was here?"
Namaha raise his hand towards the wall.
She thought to retreat—but before she could think anything else, a passage tore open in the wall behind her. The space and matter itself seemed to rip apart, like a door revealing the room . She stumbled back in shock.
Ye Muan's jaw dropped. He turned toward Namaha, who was smiling faintly, then back at the woman.
He didn't break the wall… he ripped molecules apart… like it was nothing.
Namaha's voice was calm. "Please, miss. If you're interested in listening to our conversation, you can just use the door."
The woman stepped forward, trembling. As soon as she moved, the spatial tear behind her closed, the wall returning to normal as though nothing had happened.
Ye Muan's jaw dropped thinks. He manipulate molecules and matter like nothing…
Namaha gestured politely. "Now then, miss, can you tell me who you are and why you're so interested in our little chat?"
The woman's knees gave out, and she bowed deeply. Her voice trembled. "I… I didn't mean to overhear. I saw you at the market. You easily defeated that cultivator without even taking him seriously, and yet… I couldn't sense a single drop of spiritual energy from you. Then, out of nowhere, his entire gang was killed by a massive attack and i saw you coming out of thier resturant. I thought you were hiding something… or had a special artifact. I wanted to find out."
Ye Muan's eyes narrowed. "And if my master did have such an artifact?"
She hesitated. "…I would knock him out and steal it."
Namaha laughed. "Interesting. So many interesting things on my first day."
Both Ye Muan and the woman stared at him in disbelief.
"Sorry to disappoint you," Namaha said casually. "I'm not wearing any artifact. I just wanted to teach them a lesson—they were annoying me. But they were so weak… that they died."
The woman's eyes widened. Images of utter destruction flashed in her mind. Only an expert could cause that… or a terrifying technique.
She bit her lip. "Then… if you don't mind, can I join your team?"
Namaha blinked. Ye Muan gaped. Then Namaha's grin widened. "Of course. The more people, the more fun."
The woman exhaled in relief, removing her veil and cloak. Her silver hair shimmered like silk, and her diamond-like white eyes caught the candlelight. Her jade-pale skin was flawless, her white robes flowing elegantly. She looked like an angel descended from heaven.
"Why hide your face?" Ye Muan asked suddenly. "Are you running from someone?"
She froze—but Namaha waved it off. "It doesn't matter. Forget it."
"Alright," Ye Muan said, nodding.
Namaha clapped his hands lightly. "Now that you've joined, let's introduce ourselves."
Ye Muan bowed. "I am Ye Muan, former Demon Lord."
The woman bowed as well. "I am Bai Xia."
Namaha grinned. "And you know me. But for formality's sake… I'm Namaha. Let's have fun together."
Both nodded.
But then Ye Muan stiffened, a chill running down his spine. "Master… I feel something. A strong killing intent."
Bai Xia's eyes widened in fear.
Namaha's voice was calm. "You're right.
He pointed his thumb towards the window. "They're there—on that near building, ready to attack Bai Xia at any moment."
Ye Muan turned sharply to her. "They're here for you? Why?"
Bai Xia trembled, unable to speak.
Namaha's eyes gleamed. "They're after the dragon spirit inside her."
Ye Muan froze. "She has a dragon spirit?"
Bai Xia's voice shook. "How… how do you know that?"
"It's not a big deal," Namaha said lightly. "And you don't have to worry. You're part of my team now. That means you're my friend."
Ye Muan smiled faintly. "Does that mean I'm your friend too?"
"Of course," Namaha replied.
Happiness flared in Ye Muan's chest. Bai Xia also smiled faintly.
"Good," Namaha said with a yawn. "I'm sleepy now. You two should rest as well."
"But they're still out there—ready to attack!" Bai Xia protested.
"How can they attack," Namaha murmured, already lying down, "when they're already dead?"
The room fell silent.
Ye Muan's eyes widened. "Wait… the killing intent… it's gone."
Both turned to Namaha, shocked. He simply winked and closed his eyes.
Bai Xia rushed to the window, flinging it open—only to gasp.
Ye Muan joined her, starting to ask, "What's the matter? Why are you so—" He stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening.
On the rooftop across the street lay the assassins' corpses, blood dripping onto the tiles. Their own weapons were buried in their bodies.
Slowly, both turned toward Namaha, who was sleeping peacefully with a smile on his face.
They exchanged glances, silently agreeing on one thing—this man was far too terrifying.
Ye Muan closed the window quietly. Bai Xia's breaths came heavy as she tried to calm herself, her heart still racing.
The one who had shaken them over and over… slept like a man without a care in the world.
To be continued…