Yun Jin flipped the worn cover open, his eyes scanning the first page. The notebook wasted no time with introductions. Across the top, written in Ardent’s hand, were the words:

  [How to Kill Demons Effectively]

  He settled into the chair, fingers brushing lightly across the edge of the paper as he began to read.

  Suffering Lineage

  For all intents and purposes, these demons are immortal. While their bodies are fragile compared to other lineages, their regeneration is unmatched. They are considered the weakest, yet paradoxically the hardest to kill.

  Low-ranked Suffering demons often have clear weaknesses—vulnerable cores, unstable mana circuits—but those born from higher bloodlines evolve past such flaws. Their bodies repair faster than most attacks can damage them, and their suffering feeds their resilience. Killing them once is never enough. You must kill them again. And again.

  Recommended strategy: sustained, continuous damage to overwhelm their regeneration. Fire is the most effective element. Mana suppression techniques are advised to slow their recovery.

  Yun Jin turned the page, the quiet rustle loud in the stillness. Merlin hovered behind him, reading over his shoulder in uneasy silence.

  Destruction Lineage

  Their nature is as direct as their name. These demons embody raw, overwhelming force. Their goal is domination through strength alone. Their fighting style looks like ours, but don’t be fooled. They hit harder than any human ever could. Do not engage them in a contest of power unless you are certain of victory.

  Recommended strategy: disable before attempting to kill. If forced to fight, end it quickly. Drawn-out battles will always favor them.

  Yun Jin’s eyes fell to the final entry.

  Death Lineage

  The most dangerous of all demon bloodlines. Physical attacks are ineffective. Magical attacks have reduced effectiveness, and curses do not work on them at all. Few who have encountered these demons lived to record their accounts. Most engagements ended in mass casualties—or worse.

  Recommended Strategy: Avoid direct confrontation. They may be strong, but they are also the least intelligent of the lineages. If one is encountered, escape if possible. If combat is unavoidable, prepare a sealing ritual in advance and lure the creature into it.

  Yun Jin slowly closed the notebook, his fingers lingering over the cover.

  “Immortal suffering, unstoppable destruction, and inevitable death…” His voice was low, almost a whisper.

  Merlin shifted uncomfortably behind him, his voice cracking with unease. “Yun Jin… what are we supposed to do against that?”

  Yun Jin stood, the notebook held firmly under one arm.

  He may not be equipped with continuous-damage or fire-based attacks, but mana-suppression techniques? He can do them.

  After finishing his research, Yun Jin decided to join the task force meeting. If nothing else, he could share what he’d learned and offer his skills.

  He made his way toward the eastern hall, a part of the mansion he hadn’t entered before. Though he’d often seen servants passing through its doors, he never had a reason to step inside.

  The hall was spacious and built with simple elegance. High windows overlooked the gardens, their heavy curtains drawn back just enough to let in the night air. A large chandelier hung overhead, its crystal lights dim but functional. The room had been cleared to host the gathering, with long tables set out and filled with food and drink.

  The people gathered were a sharp contrast to the setting. Hardened mercenaries stood alongside ragged swordsmen and armored knights. A few demi-humans stood among them, their scaled features and towering frames making them easy to spot. One lizard-faced warrior carried a massive bow strapped across his back.

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  It still surprises me how normal this is here, Yun Jin thought briefly, watching the mixed crowd. Demi-humans weren’t common, but their presence didn’t draw much attention either.

  He found a place along the wall and waited as Ardent stepped onto the raised platform at the head of the room.

  Ardent stepped onto the platform without preamble. With a simple motion of his hand, a circle of glowing runes formed in the air behind him. The runes pulsed once, and a translucent image flickered into view—a projection of a demon.

  He spoke in his usual measured tone. “As you’ve likely learned from the reports, cult activity within the city has increased significantly. This is what you’ll be facing.”

  He gestured toward the projection. The image sharpened, forming into a gaunt, twisted humanoid figure. Faint veins of corrupted energy pulsed beneath its sickly skin.

  “Corruption Demon. Suffering Lineage. High regeneration, low durability. Use sustained damage—fire is the preferred method. Severing limbs will slow them, but they will recover unless the wounds are burned. I recommend preparing fire pits near guard posts and burning them alive once incapacitated.”

  He paused briefly before adding, his voice as flat as stone, “Do not show them mercy. Or you’ll be the one begging for it later.”

  The projection shifted, but Ardent continued without changing his tone.

  “You will be paid according to standard rates. Additional bonuses apply for confirmed eliminations of cult leadership. Defensive positions remain the priority as previously planned.”

  Without wasting time, he moved directly into tactical details, outlining defensive perimeters and patrol assignments, dividing the city sectors with clear, precise orders.

  After the projection faded, the hall fell into a brief, thoughtful silence as everyone absorbed the information.

  The presentation had been direct, leaving no space for confusion.

  Then, one of the town’s native residents stood and raised his hand. Without waiting to be called on, he spoke up, his voice loud and clear across the hall.

  “We’re already here. Why don’t we strike first? Burn their whole nest down before they have a chance?”

  Several others quickly voiced their agreement. These were men and women who had lived through the cult’s growing influence firsthand. To them, waiting meant more would be lost before anyone acted.

  “Yeah! Why sit back and let them choose the time and place?” another shouted from across the room.

  But their calls were met with immediate resistance.

  A veteran mercenary pushed off from the pillar he was leaning against, folding his arms across his chest as he addressed the group.

  “Are you all mad?” His voice was flat, but the weight behind his words carried through the hall. “Without proper preparation, how many of you can even take down one of them? You rush in now, and all you’ll do is wear yourselves out and die before the real fight starts.”

  The room broke into quiet murmurs as both sides stood their ground.

  Yun Jin listened carefully from the side of the hall. He understood both perspectives.

  The townsfolk were driven by anger and desperation—they had something to protect, something personal to avenge. But that emotion would only lead them into a slaughter if left unchecked.

  Even for him, confronting these demons wasn’t something to be taken lightly. He’d just spent hours studying their regenerative abilities and weaknesses, and even now, he wasn’t confident about facing their leadership directly.

  The tension in the hall grew thick as the townsfolk and mercenaries exchanged sharp words, neither side willing to yield. Ardent let it continue for a moment longer before stepping forward again, his voice cutting through the noise with practiced authority.

  “The plan stands,” he said simply. “We hold the defensive perimeter. Engagements will be calculated. This situation will be resolved at the right moment, not through reckless bravado.”

  Yun Jin, watching from the sidelines, understood exactly what that meant.

  Ardent was waiting for Veyra to have no choice but to join the fight. And until that happened, the question remained—how many more lives would be lost before this crisis ended?

  Ardent’s gaze shifted toward him. “Yun Jin,” he called, his voice carrying clearly through the hall. “Step forward.”

  Conversations died off as every head turned to him. The air grew heavier with expectation.

  “This man is our final measure,” Ardent continued, his tone even. “If you encounter any high-ranking cult members, your first action is to alert him.”

  That set off a wave of protest almost immediately.

  “Why him?” a mercenary captain demanded. “We’re professionals. Our companies don’t take orders from outsiders. It’s better we handle this individually, as assigned.”

  A murmur of agreement rippled through the gathered mercenaries.

  They came from nearly a dozen different groups, each forged through years of battlefield experience. Hundreds of backgrounds.

  And now, Ardent had suggested that their combined strength wasn’t enough—that everything they were counted for less than one man.

  It wasn’t just a matter of pride. To many, it felt like an outright dismissal of their worth.

  “Because that man saved our life.”

  A young swordsman stepped forward from the crowd, his leather armor still bearing the marks of old farm work beneath the newer patches.