Steel clashed like thunder in the marketplace.
The crowd scattered in every direction, overturning carts and stalls. Baskets of persimmons burst open, their fruit rolling underfoot. Merchants screamed, children wailed, guards shouted orders that were lost beneath the roar of combat.
At the center of the storm, three figures stood against a tide of masked Serpent Claw agents: Hyunjae with his crimson-veined blade, Seoyeon with her flowing crimson ribbons, and Yun Jiseok with his moonlit sword.
The serpent-masked men surged forward as one, their movements eerie, too perfect—as though each were a finger of the same hand. Their blades gleamed with jade venom, their strikes heavy, relentless, unflinching.
Hyunjae parried one strike, his blade shrieking as it met the poisoned steel. Sparks burst like fireflies. Another agent lunged at his side, but Hyunjae twisted, letting the crimson aura that licked along his sword's edge guide his hand.
Yes, whispered a voice in his mind, soft and silken. Deeper. Cut deeper.
His sword swung of its own accord, carving through the man's neck. Blackened blood sprayed, sizzling as it hit the ground. The corpse did not cry out. It merely twitched, then collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been severed.
Hyunjae's breath caught. For a heartbeat, he wasn't sure if it had been his strike—or the blade's will—that had killed.
Seoyeon spun like a dancer amid the chaos, her crimson ribbons unfurling in arcs of death. Each ribbon had been soaked in alchemical venom and threaded with razor steel. They darted like serpents of her own, wrapping around an agent's wrist before slicing clean through bone.
Her eyes were sharp, her breath steady, yet beneath her calm was fury—each strike carried the weight of vengeance for her fallen Pavilion.
Two agents cornered her from either side. She snapped her ribbons upward, hooking them onto a wooden beam above, and vaulted into the air. Her robes billowed as she descended in a whirling arc, ribbons spiraling around her like a storm.
By the time she landed, the two agents were already falling, their bodies slashed into ribbons finer than silk.
And then there was Yun Jiseok.
Though blind, his blade moved with terrifying precision. He stood rooted in place, his breathing slow, his stance grounded like an old pine tree. But each time his sword flashed, an agent fell.
"Moonlight… Echo," he whispered.
The technique unfolded not as one strike, but as several echoes layered upon one another. His blade seemed to cut the air itself, leaving behind trails of pale silver light. An agent dodged one slash, only for the second echo to cut his throat. Another parried the first strike, only to find the third echo waiting for his heart.
Blood pooled around Jiseok's feet, yet none of it stained him. His blade shone with cold radiance, like the reflection of a moon untainted by shadow.
But the Serpent Claw agents did not break.
They pressed closer, their voices rising in a unified hiss. "Chosen… chosen… chosen…"
Hyunjae felt his chest tighten. Each hiss seemed to vibrate against the whispers in his own mind. His sword pulsed in his grip, its crimson veins glowing faintly, as though drinking the blood that spattered across its edge.
Yes, the voice urged. Chosen. Tear them apart. Let shadow drink shadow.
Hyunjae gritted his teeth and swung. The blade carved through three at once, its arc too fast, too precise—guided not by his training, but by the whisper. For a heartbeat, he felt weightless, as if something else had taken the burden of killing from his hands.
When he blinked, he stood surrounded by corpses.
"Hyunjae!" Seoyeon's voice snapped him back. She had seen. The way his blade moved too easily, too hungrily. Her ribbons trembled as if she hesitated.
But before she could speak, the remaining agents screamed and threw themselves forward—not at Seoyeon, nor at Jiseok, but all at once toward Hyunjae.
"Chosen!" they cried, voices in unison. "The shadow calls!"
Hyunjae's eyes widened as ten blades descended on him at once. He raised his sword, but he knew he could not block them all—
And then silver light blazed.
Jiseok's blade split the air, his Moonlight Echo flaring brighter than before. One echo became two, then three, then seven. The agents staggered as invisible cuts opened across their bodies.
"Do not listen to the whispers," Jiseok growled, his sightless eyes turned toward Hyunjae. "The blade is not your master. You are."
Hyunjae's heart thundered. He wanted to deny it, to say he had control—but the blade in his hand pulsed again, warm and eager, as though mocking him.
The last of the agents collapsed, their masks cracking upon the stones. The market was silent, save for the heavy breathing of the three who remained standing.
The survivors of the crowd peeked from alleyways and doorways, whispering among themselves. They had seen the battle. They had seen Hyunjae's blade whisper and drink.
Seoyeon lowered her ribbons slowly, her eyes fixed on him. She opened her mouth, hesitated, then closed it again.
Jiseok slid his sword back into its sheath, his expression grim. "The Serpent Claw won't stop. They want you because they believe you already belong to them." He tilted his head slightly, though his blind eyes never wavered. "And perhaps they aren't wrong."
Hyunjae said nothing. He stared at his blade. Its crimson veins pulsed faintly, as though it were alive, breathing with him.
In the silence of his heart, the whisper came again—soft, sweet, irresistible.
Yes. Chosen.