EVEN AS A SLAVE, THE HEAVENLY DEMON'S MIGHT SHALL TAME THE BEAUTIES-Chapter 39: ECHOES FROM BEYOND THE WALLS

A strangled gasp tore from his throat as he jolted upright, his hand instinctively moving to his chest as though expecting to find a gaping wound. His breathing came in sharp, desperate pants, and sweat poured down his face like tears.

"It’s okay," Lirien whispered, her voice gentle but firm as she placed her hand over his heart, feeling it hammering against his ribs. "You’re safe. It was just a dream."

But even as she said the words, she knew they were a lie. Whatever Yomi had just experienced went far beyond any ordinary nightmare. The supernatural cold still clung to the room, and she could see the frost on the windows, the cracks in the mirror, the shadows that seemed reluctant to return to their proper places.

This wasn’t just a dream. This was something else entirely.

Yomi’s wild eyes slowly focused on her face, taking in her concerned expression, her gentle touch, the way she had positioned herself between him and whatever demons haunted his sleep. For a moment, something vulnerable flickered in his gaze, a gratitude so profound it almost brought tears to her eyes.

His hand rose to cover hers, gripping it with desperate intensity as though she were an anchor in a storm-tossed sea. She represented something he couldn’t name, something he hadn’t been able to protect before. In her warm presence, the visions of fire and death seemed slightly less real, slightly less overwhelming.

But he didn’t explain. Couldn’t explain. How could he tell her about a world she’d never known, about people she’d never meet, about failures that spanned lifetimes? How could he burden her with the weight of his vengeance, the scope of his hatred, the magnitude of what he’d lost?

Instead, he simply held her closer, feeling her steady heartbeat against his chest, drawing what comfort he could from her mere existence. His breathing gradually slowed, though his muscles remained tense, coiled like a spring ready to snap.

Lirien didn’t press for answers. She had her own demons, her own memories of loss and failure. The night her family’s estate had burned, the screams of servants caught in the flames, the look of defeat in her father’s eyes as their world crumbled around them, she understood that some wounds were too deep for words.

So she simply stayed close, offering what comfort she could, running her fingers through his damp hair as she whispered meaningless reassurances. Her presence was a balm, but she could feel that it wasn’t enough to heal whatever had torn open inside him.

As the minutes passed and the supernatural chill gradually faded from the room, Yomi’s expression began to harden. The vulnerability she had glimpsed was replaced by something colder, more resolved. The nightmare hadn’t weakened him, it had reminded him of why he existed, why he had been given this second chance.

His failures pressed against him like physical weights, and each face from his vision carved itself deeper into his memory. Lin Mei’s terror. Master Chen’s severed head. Young Wei Lin’s confusion.

They were all counting on him to make this right. To extract the price that was owed.

And now, as he felt Lirien’s warm body pressed against his, as he registered her genuine concern for his wellbeing, a new understanding crystallized in his mind. This world had given him something else to protect, something else that could be taken away if he failed again.

The thought should have comforted him. Instead, it only made his determination burn brighter, colder. He would not make the same mistakes twice. This time, when the moment came, he would be ready.

This time, when the destroyers revealed themselves, he would be the one standing over their corpses.

Lirien felt the change in him, the way his muscles hardened under her touch, the way his breathing became more controlled, more calculated. Whatever comfort she had offered was being consumed by something darker, hungrier. She had seen this look before, in her own reflection after her family’s fall. It was the look of someone who had chosen vengeance over healing, duty over peace.

She wanted to say something, to pull him back from whatever precipice he was approaching, but the words wouldn’t come. How could she counsel him against revenge when her own heart still burned with the need to reclaim her family’s honor? How could she speak of forgiveness when she had never found it for herself?

So she held him through the remainder of the night, feeling him grow more distant even as he kept her close. The man who had saved her, who had shared his strength with her, was slipping away into something harder and more terrible.

And despite her presence, despite her warmth, despite everything she tried to give him, Yomi remained alone with his hatred, planning his retribution in the darkness while she slept against his chest.

The nightmares had reminded him what he truly was: not a lover, not a protector, not a man seeking redemption.

He was an instrument of vengeance, forged in loss and tempered in blood.

And soon, very soon, that instrument would find its targets.

She pressed her hands against his sweat-soaked chest, feeling the wild pulsing of his Ki beneath her palms. It was nothing like the controlled energy she had experienced during their ritual, this was raw, primal, dangerous. The kind of power that could level mountains or tear apart reality itself.

His back arched off the bed as another wave of anguish tore through him, and she could have sworn she heard distant screams echoing from somewhere far beyond the room’s walls.

"Please!" She shook his shoulder more urgently, her own heart racing as she watched pain twist his features into a mask of pure torment. The man who had faced down an entire dungeon without flinching was being torn apart by his own memories.

When his eyes finally snapped open, they blazed with an otherworldly light, not the warm storm-gray she had come to know, but something colder, more terrible. For a moment, she saw not Yomi but something else entirely, something that could have stepped from the pages of ancient legends about demons and gods.

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