The person who got out of the car bowed his head, holding both arms in front of him in a respectful greeting.
The heavy silence was broken only by the weight of the worries and burdens resting on their shoulders.
"Oh... you are finally here. I have been waiting for you for a while."
"If you are here in such a hurry, then it must be serious, right Nut?" The Master's voice was cold — as if he wanted to hear everything, yet at the same time, he didn't.
"Khrab , Master... we need to get there. Daeng tried to possess the body of Toffee... he tried to take but failed," Nut said. He was troubled, unable to look the Master in the eye, so he stared at the ground as he spoke.
The Master spoke with a sudden sharpness.
"Nut, when are you going to change? This habit of yours — trying to act tough and protecting everything alone in silence.
First, you left the temple without telling anyone, and then you went to protect the sole heir of the Phassakorn family. When will you stop this arrogance?" the Master asked, his voice filled with dissatisfaction.
"Master, it's my fault," Nut interrupted. "It's not Nong's fault. It was my choice to leave the temple without letting you know, even though you were the one who raised me." Nut's voice cracked as he continued, "The moment I saw a small kid bearing all the pain of a past he didn't even create... I just... I couldn't stand by."
Anyone could see that Nut's words and his heart were true, and he will protect Artit in future as well.
The Master's expression softened, and he reached out to touch Nut's shoulder.
"Now I feel like you have truly grown up," the Master said gently. "I am proud that I am the one who raised you, Nut. Wait here. I will be back."
As the Master walked inside the temple, Nut looked around the familiar grounds. He tried to remember how he used to play and live there as a child. He whispered to the air, "It's been a while. Everything is the same — the smell of the air and the Master."
It had been so long since he had come back to the place he called home. He sighed, but even with the weight of the coming storm, he didn't regret his choice.
Inside the temple,path was wide and rough, with walls that seemed to bear the weight of many secrets.
The Master walked through a hidden passage from deep within the temple until he reached a room filled with ancient mysteries.
There, he picked up a wooden box that carried the scent of old ages.
Inside was a red thread, wrapped carefully in a dry lotus. Just like the withered flower, the thread was old and fragile.
He took the thread and began his way back. Instead of returning the way he came, he went to the great hall where the Guardian Light stood.
This was the light that guides and protects the soul. Around the flame, monks were chanting in a circle.
The light was covered in white, but its core burned a deep red; even a single glance at it felt like it could purify the heart.
The Master approached, bowed his head, and prayed softly:" Mother, Please guide these souls, and protect them."
He spoke only those few words. With one last look at the light, he turned away. He walked on without looking back, every step carrying a weight that no one else could ever know.
Darkness cut and the wind shook. Even the leaves trembled... while the rest ran for a second chance.
In a far place... right in the heart of the city, yet deep within the forest... a grieving soul stood.
It stood as if it were frozen in fear, it voice echoing with the agony of someone desperate to escape and wanting for a second chance.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the trees.
From the distance, a shadow emerged. It was a man, tall and steady. His hair was short, tied back neatly in a small knot.
The shadow only showed his figure, but his voice was enough to make the air grow cold.
It was a voice that didn't just speak — it shivered with a deep, dark vengeance.
He spoke... a cold, steady voice that seemed to play with the air. "Where are you trying to run... my little toy?"
He laughed, and the sound echoed through the silent green of the forest.
"It's getting boring. Can we stop this hide-and-seek?"
Suddenly, with a flash of speed, he moved to face the grieving soul. It was terrified.
He had a face that never aged and a scent that could seduce anyone. He was the one who ruled the well of hell — a Demon, the one who punishes.
He wore modern clothes, but he was dressed entirely in red. The deep red made his fair skin stand out even more.
His hair was tied in a knot with a thin red ribbon. In his hand, he held a fan, a red with white,its pattern showed the cruel killings of a demon war, colored in shades of blood.
He raised his fan to cover half of his face, and slowly approach just to mock.
He looked at the grieving soul — a spirit that was broken, half-missing and with no eyes, and covered in black.
He didn't say a word. Instead, he simply made a cutting motion with his fan.
It pierced the air.
The soul was instantly absorbed into the fan,
its final cry filled with agony.
"Boring..." he whispered. "Everything is... boring. Do I need a trip to the well?"
The fan disappeared the moment the soul was absorbed.
"Oh... Luk... Luk... no way," the Demon muttered. "Did he really abandon his master? I raised him, I fed him souls... and look at that brat. Not even a goodbye." He sighed, looking around. "This is boring as hell?
He played with his hair and caught the scent of the air, bored by everything.
He scanned the forest, his eyes showing his annoyance and dissatisfaction. "Even the forest looks too clean," he said, his voice dripping with boredom.
Suddenly, there was a sharp hiss.
A snake appeared. It was completely white— not scary, but actually quite cute. It slithered toward him without fear.
"Oh my, why is a slave of humans here?" He looked down at the snake with contempt, his hands resting at his sides.
"The Master has called for you..." the snake said. Before the Demon could even reply, the snake turned and left, completely ignoring him.
"Oh, look at that. A little thing, a low-ranking creature, dares to speak to me like this?" He sighed again, but a small spark appeared in his eyes. " It's actually getting interesting . If he called me then it must be related to that kid.I feel like something exciting is about to happen."
He licked his lips. "Is it possible? Can I finally devour something tasty?"
His laugh was so dark and loud that it seemed to wake ancient things from their long slumber.
He began to walk, every step unnaturally fast, moving through the trees like a blur of red.
"Don't forget," he whispered to the wind, "Phraya is coming."
As he walked, he looked right at sky and said... 'A handsome demon is coming.'
He winked with a smirk and vanished without a trace — as if he never existed.