A Solemn Pinky Promise
Yeon-woo's lips curved into a smug grin.
Woon-hyeon's eyes narrowed slightly in response.
Rustling through her belongings, Yeon-woo proudly untied her cloth bundle. "I knew you'd pull something like this, Grandpa, so I packed it myself! Heh heh."
They stood upon yet another mountain summit, completely different from the one they had climbed yesterday. Woon-hyeon had lured her all the way up here under the pretense that he had already caught a plump wild rabbit. Even though this peak was far higher, jagged with treacherous crags, Yeon-woo had scrambled up in his wake without uttering a single complaint.
Small wonder, really—the Guan Clan Residence had been following Woon-hyeon's strict orders to the letter. Because we cut her meal portions in half, she's been looking so forlorn every time her bowl empties.
The moment he had casually mentioned roasting rabbit meat on the mountain, there was no way she could have resisted. Yet, determined not to be outsmarted a second time, Yeon-woo made a grand show of unwrapping her bundle right before his eyes.
"Ta-daaa... Huh?" Yeon-woo's eyes went wide as saucers. "Wait! What? But I packed it! I really packed it!"
She had unmistakably tucked the salt jar inside before leaving! She had nestled it safely into the bundle, even giving it a few satisfied pats with an utterly victorious expression! Where on earth did it go?
"Oh dear," Woon-hyeon murmured in a flat, feigned sigh, his eyebrows knitting together in faux sympathy. "Whatever shall we do?"
Naturally, the salt jar Yeon-woo had packed had been deftly swiped by Woon-hyeon right before they stepped out the front gate, left sitting in plain sight on the wooden veranda.
"I suppose we truly have no choice but to eat it unsalted today," Woon-hyeon offered magnanimously. "How could I possibly make you run back a second time—"
"NOOOOOOO!"
Meat without salt was completely unacceptable!
"I'll go get it and come right back!" Yeon-woo didn't even wait for him to finish. Like an arrow loosed from a bow, she shot down the mountain slope.
"Haha, that little rascal." Woon-hyeon chuckled softly under his breath. He had prepared several more subtle barbs to provoke her in case she proved stubborn, but it seemed unnecessary. To think a child could be this hopelessly devoted to food.
Moving behind a large boulder, Woon-hyeon gathered the dry firewood he had prearranged and stacked it neatly in a clearing. Once everything was set to roast the meat the instant she returned, he leisurely turned to follow after her.
Tap, tat-tat—!
Yeon-woo bounded down the rugged terrain with blinding speed. The mountain grew rockier and steeper near the summit, which meant the lower she descended, the smoother and easier the paths became. Her little head was utterly consumed by thoughts of roasted rabbit. Just imagining the tender, savory flavor—so different from wild fowl or pork—made her feel light enough to fly.
Sniff.
Her nose twitched, and her head tilted slightly toward a thick patch of foliage. Smells nice.
It was the fresh, earthy fragrance of wild medicinal herbs, the kind that smelled like they would do wonders for Grandpa's aching body. I should come pick some later, she thought, her legs churning like windmills down the slope.
Suddenly—
Yeon-woo's head snapped sharply toward another direction. Her bright eyes locked onto a single spot, freezing in an unblinking stare. Even as her feet kept pounding the earth, her gaze remained rooted to that one point in the forest.
Blood.
Faint, yet unmistakably human. Having caught that very same scent only a few days ago, she could never mistake it for anything else. Drifting from the shadowed woods ahead was undeniably the stench of blood—and it was closing in on her with terrifying speed. With every heartbeat, the coppery reek grew thicker, sharper.
Rustle, crackle—!
Through the dense foliage, the figure of a man clad in black martial robes burst into view. Flitting like a wraith between the closely packed trunks, he vanished and reappeared, eating up the distance between them with impossible strides. Yeon-woo couldn't peel her eyes away, even while maintaining her breakneck sprint.
Snap! Swish—!
The man thrust a hand into his tunic and drew something out. The instant a glint of cold silver flickered between his knuckles—
Flump!
Darkness swallowed Yeon-woo's vision entirely.
A fraction of a second later, a sickening thwack! shattered the mountain air, and her world was drenched in the thick, iron stench of fresh blood.
Haa... pant... haa...
Heavy beads of sweat rolled down Woon-hyeon's pale cheeks. His eyes trembled with suppressed dread.
While trailing behind Yeon-woo, he had caught the distinct, lethal presence of hidden assassins. The moment their eyes met, they had lunged without a shred of hesitation, attacking in seamless concert as though he had been their designated target all along. He had cut them down as swiftly as his battered body allowed, then immediately sprinted down the mountain after Yeon-woo.
Yeon-woo is in danger.
That single, suffocating thought drove his limbs forward.
Rustle.
Woon-hyeon skidded to a halt. Blood...!
Before him lay a patch of underbrush painted in horrific, dark crimson—a massive pool of blood from an unknown source. "Yeon-woo..."
His gaze whipped toward the disturbed tracks leading away from the carnage. From this very spot, the child's footprints abruptly vanished. Only the heavy, distinct strides of a single adult led forward. That realization made Woon-hyeon's heart plummet into icy depths.
The direction these tracks are headed...
It was toward the house.
Dash!
Woon-hyeon pushed his agility to its absolute limit, tearing through the forest without pause. Please, let her be safe. Please, let that blood belong to anyone but Yeon-woo.
Praying frantically with every breath, he crossed a distance that should have taken half an hour of brisk walking in a mere fifteen minutes.
Haa... gasp... haa...
In the distance, the modest residence sat cloaked in profound silence. That dead stillness grated against Woon-hyeon's frayed nerves. His unhealed internal injuries throbbed agonizingly from the reckless exertion, sending an ominous ringing through his ears.
Step by trembling step, he dragged himself toward the gate. His legs felt like sodden cotton, refusing to obey. He reached out a quivering hand toward the wooden latch, fighting to steady his ragged breathing—
"Huh? Grandpa!"
In the front courtyard, standing right before the wooden veranda, Yeon-woo was waving her arm enthusiastically as she trotted toward him. Clutched tightly in her small hand was the ceramic salt jar.
"I found the salt! It was sitting right over there. But why are you back already, Grandpa? What happened to the fire?" She peeked behind him with wide, expectant eyes. "Where's the rabbit meat?"
Past the little girl who was fussing over her missed roast, Woon-hyeon's gaze locked onto the tall figure strolling leisurely in her wake.
Fifteen minutes earlier.
Thwack—!
A broad, warm palm had suddenly clamped down over Yeon-woo's eyes, accompanied immediately by the choking stench of spilled blood. Scowling, Yeon-woo reached up and tugged at the obstruction. The hand covering her face was strikingly fair, porcelain-smooth without a single blemish.
"Not yet, little one."
Though her fingers pulled it down slightly, the hand hovered just enough to block her sight. Moments later, the presence of two or three shadowy figures flared briefly in the brush and vanished into thin air. Only then did the hand lift away.
Yeon-woo's gaze instinctively darted toward the source of the bloody reek, but before she could catch a glimpse, she felt herself being hoisted smoothly into the air. Blinking in surprise, she looked up at the man carrying her.
It was the half-masked intruder who had been tormenting Grandpa a few days ago.
Yeon-woo's brow scrunched into a furious knot. "What's your problem?"
Faced with her brazen hostility, the man's exposed violet eyes curved into a crooked, amused arch behind his white half-mask. "You do realize I just saved your life, right?"
"Why would you save me?"
"Because you were about to die just now?"
"Don't lie to me, you big liar!" She had just been minding her own business, running home to fetch salt—saved from what? "Did you come back to bully Grandpa again?"
Her glare dripped with vicious suspicion, burning with the kind of sheer hostility that suggested she might bury a wood-chopping axe in his skull if he dared say yes.
The Dark Shadow Demon Lord threw his hands up in mock innocence. "I'll have you know your grandfather and I made up."
"...Really?"
He nodded earnestly. Beneath the mask, his clear, transparent violet eyes shone with absolute sincerity, practically shouting his innocence. "I even gave him some fine medicine so he could recover faster."
Hmm? Yeon-woo's eyebrows tilted skeptically. She stroked her little chin in deep contemplation. Come to think of it, hadn't there been some strange dried herbs sitting around the room lately? And they certainly smelled like wondrous herbs that would be good for Grandpa's health. In that case...
Yeon-woo raised her small hand.
Is she trying to hit me?! Well aware of the child's absurdly violent tendencies, the Dark Shadow Demon Lord instinctively winced.
Pat. Pat.
The Demon Lord's eyes widened in sheer astonishment.
Yeon-woo was gently patting him on the head.
"Good boy. No more fighting, okay?"
"......"
Caught completely off guard by a toddler praising him like an obedient puppy, the terrifying master of the Demonic Cult blinked in dazed silence. Meanwhile, the chubby little hand continued to pat his silver-streaked hair with patronizing tenderness.
"Pfft..."
Yeon-woo tilted her head. "Huh?"
"PWAHAHAHAHA!" A thunderous, ringing peel of laughter tore from his throat. "Ahahaha! Ah-hahaha!"
The Dark Shadow Demon Lord laughed with wild abandon. The sheer absurdity of the situation tickled him so thoroughly that the more he chewed on it, the harder he laughed. His roaring chuckles were so loud that Yeon-woo grimaced and clamped both hands over her ears.
After catching his breath, the Demon Lord gently lowered her hands. Brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, he looked into her indignant little face and spoke softly.
"I'll make you a promise."
"What promise?"
"I swear by my own hands, I will never kill your grandfather, nor will I ever harm him."
Yeon-woo's eyes lit up like bright lanterns. "Really?"
"Really." The Dark Shadow Demon Lord extended his pinky, lightly hooking it around her tiny finger. "I happen to be exceptionally good at keeping my promises."
The most radiant, immensely satisfied grin bloomed across Yeon-woo's chubby cheeks. Seeing her puffed-up, thoroughly proud expression—as though she had just brilliantly mediated a squabble between unruly neighborhood brats—the Dark Shadow Demon Lord couldn't help but chuckle again.
"Yo—!"
The Dark Shadow Demon Lord gave a breezy wave as he sauntered toward the gate. "Did you run all the way here? Why are you gasping like a dying fish? Did the spiritual elixir have no effect at all?"
Cupping his chin with a contemplative tilt of his head, his demeanor was as insufferably relaxed as ever.
Woon-hyeon exhaled a long, heavy breath. "...What happened?"
"Hm?"
'You explicitly stated you would deal with the assassins yourself,' Woon-hyeon sent via Telepathic Transmission, his voice sinking to a frigid, accusing register.
'Ah—so you ran into them?'
'Four of them. All first-rate martial artists.'
'Five.' The Demon Lord flashed a teasing grin, splaying all five fingers wide. 'Including the fellow who was aiming for little Yeon-woo, there were five in total, you see~'
"Yeon-woo...!" Woon-hyeon gasped, hastily reaching out to check the girl from head to toe.
"Relax, not a single hair on her head was scratched," the Demon Lord said aloud, waving a dismissive hand. "Didn't I tell you? She is an exceptionally precious treasure to my side as well."
"You...!"
Woon-hyeon's eyes blazed with fury as he glared at the masked Demon Lord. He was the one who had sworn to handle the assassins—a pledge meant to preemptively snuff out any peril before it could ever touch Yeon-woo again. Yet, despite that solemn oath, this near-fatal ambush had still come to pass. A tempest of unbridled wrath surged through Woon-hyeon's chest.