CHAPTER 105: THE SUPREMACY ARC, PART 8

Words like blades — Mordred’s voice cut straight into the soul.

"Demons and humans must unite. Together, we can prevent this war. Last time, I asked: who is your god? Any answer is right. But today, if we want to survive — we must act as one. Enough dreaming. Let’s make that dream real."

The internet exploded.

Forums filled with debate. Some shared stories of kind-hearted demons. Others drew inspiration from Mordred.

Most liked anonymous comment:

"I’m a demon, and I don’t want this world to lose its people. I’ve conquered hunger — I’ll help others walk a cleaner path."

Others followed:

"We took in a demon child long ago. With the right care, they’re just like us. We must give them a chance!"

"We’re all in the same boat. Let’s stop this evil — together!"

"Shields up for Mordred! #humandemonrise"

Chaos spread.

But the livestream continued.

Mordred gave one last look to the screen.

"We’re out of time. Next week, I’ll appear publicly and demand peace talks. Association, here’s your next riddle: if time is money — what’s the price of change?"

Black screen.

Transmission ended.

The HQ erupted. Voices pierced Sashi’s mind like needles.

"This is madness..." she thought.

But panic was the enemy. Even if the public sided with demons — she had to hold.

"Listen up!" she raised her voice. "No matter what Mordred says, we stay the course. He could still be a covert anarchist. If any protest starts — shut it down. We will attend those negotiations... and learn the truth behind his mask."

Silence fell. Doubt hung heavy.

Her assistant approached.

"You’re right, Director. No panic. We must do everything we can. That said..."

She handed Sashi a report. Opinion stats — charts of public sentiment.

"Maybe... maybe we should negotiate now."

"W-what...?"

Sashi’s eyes widened.

It was true. Most people already supported letting demons live among humans. Even many within the Association had joined that tide.

Mordred had captured the hearts of the nation. He could bend public will with words — yet no one knew the truth behind the mask.

That evening — a war council convened. All S+ ranked hunters were summoned.

"So Kihyun joined Umbra," Jisun said flatly, eyes locked on Kusanagi.

Yeonghee and the others sat in grim silence.

Sashi nodded.

"The surveillance confirms it. Kang Suwon wasn’t lying. Gentlemen — we face a dangerous enemy. A foe holding the blood of Astaroth and Taurus. The Blood Moon nears. I must ask one thing of you all: do not fall for Mordred’s rhetoric. He remains an enigma."

"I... I feel like I saw Kihyun," Reina said quietly. "He seemed different... like he’d lost the human part of himself."

Ice cracked in Yeonghee’s glass as her hand trembled.

"I see," Jisun added, voice low. "Did you sense a threat in him?"

"...I don’t know. But it felt like he’s no longer the Kihyun we used to know."

"How ironic," Jisun scoffed. "The SSS-ranked hunter once hailed as the Miracle Child... now a renegade walking the path of darkness."

The room tensed. The hunters said nothing — but the weight of that truth pressed down like lead.

Ryu, Ming, Yeonghee stayed quiet. Their calm annoyed Jisun.

He snapped:

"Well then? Your daddy’s alive. What now, Kusanagi? Run into his arms?"

Ryu closed his eyes.

"As I’ve always said, I stand with humanity. Ming and Yeonghee know that too. Why are we still treated like suspects?"

"Because the Kusanagi are unstable," Jisun growled. "Nobody knows what’s in your heads."

"And that’s why the Association is falling apart, sir."

Sashi slammed the table.

"Enough, both of you! Even now, you’re bickering? Focus! We need a strategy to withstand Umbra’s next assault — it could be our last."

The room froze. The weight of having no plan hung over them.

Yeonghee, serene as always, broke the silence.

"There’s only one weapon that might save us — the Demon of Hatred. Mr. Park, your assessment?"

Jisun leaned his cheek into his palm.

"The boy remains silent. He doesn’t care how this ends. We cannot rely on him."

"I see," Yeonghee whispered.

A pause.

Then she said:

"Let’s surrender."

...

Shock. Anger. Disbelief.

"Miss Kang..." Sashi said carefully. "What are you suggesting?"

"The enemy holds every card. We can’t even trust that Demon-Serpent won’t strike of his own accord. Even Umbra can’t control him. The Association has no answers, correct? Then tell me, Director... what power do we still have?"

Silence. Sashi lowered her gaze. Her hands trembled.

At last, she admitted:

"I don’t know. I have no answer."

Yeonghee looked around the table.

"Then our last chance is Mordred. Either we wait for our extinction — or start negotiating."

No other options remained.

On the other side of the city, within the confines of my sanctuary, I sat in meditation.

Only one face lingered in my thoughts — the face of the man who died by my hand.

I still remembered it vividly.

My palms, soaked in blood.

My breath, steady.

No remorse. No hesitation. No regret.

Why did I do it? I kept asking myself.

Not out of hatred. Not out of cruelty.

Maybe... because I’m following my plan.

Maybe that’s what drives me to such extremes.

If I wavered — even for a moment — I would never forgive myself.

I exhaled, clearing the noise from my head.

My body remained still — strong, motionless — the essence of true meditation.

I turned my palms upward.

From within, blood began to rise — swirling into the air, shaping itself as if guided by thought alone.

Even the wind gathered around my hands.

Light pulsed.

And then... a sword was born. A greatsword, forged not from steel but will — like something out of the tales of King Arthur.

Its name had already been decided.

"Kenketsu..."

I gripped the blade with both hands.

It fit perfectly — as if it had always been mine.

Capillaries stretched from the hilt, fusing with my palms, binding me to it.

I had done it.

"...Ashmourne."

Kenketsu, born with its own will — its own power. I could feel it — the strength to cleave hope itself.

And that power...

I’m the last person who should’ve gotten it.

The next morning.

Dawn broke beautifully. Crimson melted into gold.

A lone man stood atop a skyscraper. His cloak billowed in the wind. His mask betrayed no emotion — only peace.

Mordred.

And in a few days... he would reveal himself to the world.