The Christian village had ceased to exist long before the last house collapsed.

Its chapel had been the first to fall. The towering cross that once overlooked the settlement now lay shattered among blackened stones, half-buried beneath smoldering debris. Homes burned without mercy, their timber frames groaning before giving way to the inferno, while the air remained thick with ash, smoke, and the unmistakable scent of scorched flesh. Prayers had filled the streets only moments earlier. Now, silence reigned, broken only by the crackling of flames and the occasional collapse of another building.

Xiao walked away without once looking back.

To him, scenes like these had long since lost their novelty. Over two thousand years of existence had reduced massacres to routine, and human suffering had become little more than distant noise. Their screams, their pleas for salvation, their desperate cries to a god that never answered... they blended together into an almost soothing melody.

Faith disgusted him.

Not because he feared it, but because he considered it an insult. Mortals wasting their fleeting lives kneeling before invisible deities instead of acknowledging the undeniable power that stood before them. Every church reduced to ashes, every holy relic desecrated, every priest dragged from his altar served as another reminder that no divine protection could rival Hell's royal blood.

After all, he was Xiao. An ancestral demon whose name had survived kingdoms, empires, and civilizations that had long since crumbled into dust. Entire bloodlines had vanished beneath his wrath, while countless demons still lowered their heads in silent reverence whenever he passed.

The world belonged to beings like him. Humans merely lived in it until they died.

As twilight bled across the horizon, the first snowflakes drifted lazily from the heavens, blanketing the scorched landscape beneath an innocent layer of white.

Without any particular destination, he wandered deeper into the forest, his footsteps almost soundless despite the frozen ground beneath his sandals. The woods themselves seemed strangely quiet. No birds sang. No wolves howled. Even the wind appeared reluctant to disturb the unnatural stillness that surrounded the ancient demon.

Then he saw it. A solitary cabin nestled between towering pines.

His golden eyes narrowed.

Few dared inhabit this forest. Those who did rarely survived for long. Between roaming beasts, wandering spirits, and creatures far worse than either, common travelers wisely avoided these woods altogether.

Yet here stood a home. With one effortless push, the wooden door creaked open.

Dust coated the shelves in thick layers, ancient books rested crookedly inside warped cabinets, and delicate cobwebs stretched between ceiling beams like forgotten tapestries. At first glance, the cabin appeared abandoned for decades.

At second glance... No. Someone lived here.

Herbs. Incense. Magic. Interesting.

Xiao stepped inside, his movements relaxed, almost leisurely, as though strolling through a museum rather than trespassing into a stranger's home.

The instant his second foot touched the floorboards, every instinct honed across two millennia screamed.

Someone. Behind the door. His reaction was instantaneous.

Before the hidden attacker could complete their strike, Xiao spun effortlessly, his hand shooting forward with supernatural speed. Long fingers wrapped around the assailant's wrist with crushing force, halting the descending blade mere inches from his face.

Then his gaze drifted upward. His golden eyes settled upon a small mark adorning the stranger's forehead.

A pentagram. Recognition flickered across his features. His eyebrow lifted.

"...A witch?"

A low chuckle escaped his lips, rich with amusement.

"Well... well... well..."

The corners of his mouth slowly curled into a predatory smile, revealing just enough satisfaction to make it unsettling. His grip tightened almost imperceptibly, enough to make the bones in the witch's wrist creak beneath his fingers.