The ambient temperature, already cold, plummeted sharply. But it wasn’t the clean, cold of Xie Wangchen’s Ice Qi.

It was a heavy, suffocating heat. A violent, blood-scented pressure that made it hard to breathe.

Step. Step. Step.

The sound of heavy boots echoed on the cobblestones, slow and deliberate.

The fog parted like a curtain, giving way to a king.

A figure stepped into the dim light of the village.

He was incredibly tall, easily dwarfing every other disciple present. He didn’t wear the standard uniform of the Outer Sect.

Instead, he wore robes of deep, abyssal black silk, edged with dark, oxidized crimson that looked suspiciously like dried blood.

His black hair was wild, untamed, falling around a face that was brutally, aggressively handsome, with sharp angles, a strong jaw, and a permanent, arrogant sneer playing on his lips.

He held a massive, double-bladed halberd slung casually over one broad shoulder. The weapon was dripping with fresh, black monster blood.

But it was his eyes that commanded the absolute, paralyzing terror of the courtyard. They weren’t brown or black. They were a vivid, burning, demonic red.

"You left your meat behind, little mice," the newcomer drawled. His voice was deep, gravelly, and vibrated with raw, unrestrained power.

He casually kicked the massive corpse of the Iron-Hide Rhino toward the Class 7 group. It slid across the cobblestones, crashing into a ruined wall.

Ji’an stood frozen on the steps of the hut.

Her heart didn’t just drop; it plummeted through the floorboards and buried itself in the earth.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The System inside her head, which had been blissfully quiet for the past twenty-four hours, suddenly erupted into a cacophony of blaring, flashing red alarms.

[CRITICAL WARNING! CRITICAL WARNING!]

[New Major Character Detected!]

[Target: Yan Lie (The Blood Sovereign / The Mini Demon Lord).]

[Role: Love Interest #7 (The Tyrant / The Final Boss of the Harem).]

[Danger Level: SSS+ (Lethal). Approach with extreme caution. Dislikes weakness. Enjoys violence. Currently in a bad mood.]

’No,’ Ji’an’s inner voice whimpered, staring at the absolute unit of a man standing in the courtyard. ’No, no, no, no. This is a joke. This is a sick, cosmic joke!’

Yan Lie.

The Mini Demon Lord.

In the original BL novel, Yan Lie was the wildcard. He wasn’t a righteous disciple.

He was the undercover crown prince of the Demonic Cult, infiltrating the Celestial Sword Sect for a laugh and to search for an ancient artifact hidden in the Lower Realm.

He was a tyrant who ruled through fear, overwhelming strength, and a deeply twisted sense of amusement.

He was the final, most dangerous member of Gu Zhiwei’s harem, the one who wanted to burn the world down just so he could watch the flames reflect in the Protagonist’s eyes.

And he was standing right in front of Lin Ji’an.

"I saved your pathetic lives," Yan Lie said, planting his halberd into the cobblestones with a heavy crack that sent a tremor through the ground. He rolled his broad shoulders, cracking his neck. "This village is mine now. The best hut is mine. The food is mine. If anyone has an objection..."

His glowing red eyes swept the crowd of terrified, shivering disciples.

"...speak up, so I can mount your head on the gate."

Nobody breathed. Tang Bo looked like he was about to pass out.

Even Mo Wuchen, watching from the doorway of the hut, dropped his "sickly" act entirely, his amber eyes narrowing into cautious, calculating slits as he recognized a predator that outclassed him in raw, physical brutality.

Yan Lie smirked, satisfied with the terror he had inspired.

He began to walk forward, intending to claim the largest, most structurally sound hut in the village.

The exact hut that Lin Ji’an was currently standing in front of.

Yan Lie stopped at the base of the wooden steps. He looked up.

He expected to see a cowering disciple. He expected someone to drop to their knees and beg for mercy.

Instead, he saw a slender youth in gray robes. The youth wasn’t shaking or crying, different from others.

He was holding a Black Iron Spatula, and he was looking down at the Demon Lord with an expression of profound, soul-deep exhaustion.

Ji’an wasn’t feeling brave. She was just incredibly, undeniably tired of dealing with Love Interests.

"You," Yan Lie growled, pointing a large, calloused finger at Ji’an. His red eyes flared with a mix of annoyance and sudden, sharp interest. "Get out of my house. And cook that rhino for me. Medium rare."

Ji’an looked at the massive, terrifying Demon Lord. She looked at the blood dripping from his halberd.

Then, she looked at her spatula.

’I am going to die,’ Ji’an thought with absolute clarity.

She took a deep breath, channeled her inner customer service manager dealing with a Karen, and looked the Mini Demon Lord dead in the eye.

"First of all," Ji’an said, her voice terrifyingly steady, echoing clearly in the silent, foggy courtyard. "Rhino meat is incredibly tough and carries parasites. If you eat it medium rare, you will get spiritual dysentery."

Yan Lie blinked. In all his nineteen years of violent, tyrannical life, no one had ever responded to his death threats with culinary health and safety advice.

"Second of all," Ji’an continued, pointing her spatula down at the line of crushed garlic and salt she had drawn across the threshold. "This is my hut. My squad is sleeping inside. There are twelve other empty, perfectly good huts in this village. Pick one. Because I am not moving."

The silence that followed was so profound it felt like the air itself had crystallized.

Tang Bo began to pray silently. Zhang Min closed his eyes, preparing for the inevitable bloodbath. Mo Wuchen’s eyes widened in genuine shock.

Yan Lie stared at the gray-robed cook.

He looked at the spatula in Lin Ji’an’s hand, looked at the protective wards, then looked back at the defiant, incredibly unimpressed face of Lin Ji’an.