The night air in Gyeongwol was heavy with incense and the faint toll of temple bells. But deeper than the scent of sandalwood and prayer, something fouler stirred—the stench of blood concealed beneath layers of ritual and ceremony.
Choi Hyunjae moved silently through the half-collapsed temple ruins, his blade wrapped in cloth, eyes wary of the shadows that clung unnaturally to the corners. Han Seoyeon followed behind, her lantern casting a trembling golden glow on moss-stained walls.
"This place…" she whispered, "it was said to be sealed by the Four Sects themselves. No disciple should have been able to enter."
Hyunjae crouched, tracing his fingers over the floor where faint inscriptions were etched into the stone. They were not prayers, nor protective wards. They were martial diagrams—flows of qi, lethal forms, and forbidden stances. Each curve and line exuded a pressure that made his heart constrict.
"The Shadowed Lotus…" Hyunjae murmured. "This is where they practiced."
The name alone was taboo in the martial world. Centuries ago, the Shadowed Lotus Sect had been annihilated for their pursuit of arts that bound the soul to shadow. They had sought immortality not through enlightenment, but through the corruption of life-force. Some whispered they had succeeded. Others claimed their arts drove them mad, turning them into wraiths that fed on blood and memory.
Seoyeon knelt beside him. Her eyes, though calm, carried the burden of lineage. "This symbol," she pointed to a lotus carved with its petals inverted, "appears in the scroll we took from the Serpent Claw. It's not coincidence. They're not reviving techniques—they're resurrecting the entire sect."
A cold wind swept through the temple, extinguishing her lantern. Darkness pressed in, thicker than night itself. Hyunjae felt his blade vibrate in its wrapping, as if hungering. And then came the whispers.
"Return to us… embrace the shadow… bleed and be reborn…"
The voices crawled beneath his skin, clawed at the corners of his mind. Hyunjae staggered, clutching his head.
"Hyunjae!" Seoyeon's voice cut through, grounding him. She grasped his arm, her qi flowing into him—steady, disciplined, warm. The whispers retreated, though not entirely.
Hyunjae exhaled heavily. "This place is alive."
Before she could answer, a sound echoed through the ruins: the scrape of boots on stone. Lanterns flared at the far end of the hall. Serpent Claw assassins, clad in black scales of lacquered armor, emerged from the shadows. At their head was a tall figure whose mask bore the visage of a snake.
"You've wandered too far," the masked man said, voice like a hiss. "The Shadowed Lotus does not welcome intruders."
Hyunjae drew his blade in one smooth motion, cloth falling away to reveal steel etched with faint crimson veins. Seoyeon unfurled her crimson silk ribbons, her sect's legacy weapon, each thread sharp enough to slice bone.
The air tightened.
And then, the battle began.