The next day, the village gathered in silence.
No one dared raise their voice as several people entered the room where the assistant had been taken.
What they saw made their legs give out.
A body lay twisted on the floor.
Every bone in his body was broken—unnaturally so, as if he had been crushed again and again. His limbs bent at angles no human body should ever take. His eyes were wide open, frozen in pure terror, as though death itself had been too merciful.
No blood pooled on the ground.
Yet the horror was unmistakable.
"This…" someone whispered, voice trembling.
"What kind of hatred does this take?"
As murmurs spread through the village, a sudden disturbance arose at the entrance.
More people arrived.
Over thirty men stepped into the village, all dressed in identical dark robes. On their chests was an embroidered black serpent, coiled and ready to strike.
The villagers' faces turned pale.
A martial sect.
One of the men stepped forward, his gaze sharp and cold.
"Did a martial artist pass through this village?" he asked.
"A man… accompanied by a woman?"
The villagers hesitated, fear gripping their throats.
Finally, one civilian spoke, voice shaking. "Y-yes… There was one. He killed a civilian in the street… and later dragged the physician ."
The atmosphere instantly turned heavy.
The group moved toward the physician's residence—
only to find it completely destroyed.
One of the disciples clenched his fists. Another knelt, bowing deeply.
"Elder Shen Kai," he said, "it seems the culprit has already left the village."
Shen Kai's eyes narrowed.
"No matter where he runs," he said coldly, "he killed people of the Black Serpent Sect. This debt must be paid."
He remembered the sect leader's words clearly:
"Shen Kai, whatever it takes—bring me that man's head."
Shen Kai exhaled slowly.
"We cannot retreat," he said. "If we do, every unknown martial artist will think our sect can be trampled."
Then, a smile crept onto his lips.
"Spread the word," Shen Kai said calmly.
"Tell everyone that the one who committed these crimes is a member of the Blood Cult."
The disciple stiffened—then understood.
The Blood Cult was hated by all.
Empire or alliance—it didn't matter.
Once that name spread, the world itself would hunt Ming down.
As Shen Kai turned away, another disciple hurried forward and bowed.
"Elder… there is a child who wishes to see you."
"A child?" Shen Kai frowned. "What does he want?"
"He… he is the son of the civilian who was killed."
Shen Kai paused.
"…Let him in."
A thin, fragile boy stepped forward. His clothes were worn. His eyes were red—but not from tears.
He knelt.
"Please," the boy said, his voice trembling yet firm,
"give me a chance to take revenge. That man killed my father. He was all I had."
Hatred burned fiercely in the child's eyes.
Shen Kai studied him for a long moment.
"You are too weak," Shen Kai said.
"If you wish for revenge, first learn martial arts. Only then can you kill him."
The boy's shoulders drooped.
Then Shen Kai asked, "What is your name?"
"Mori Jin," the boy replied.
Shen Kai's eyes flickered.
"…Do you wish to become my disciple?"
Gasps echoed among the surrounding disciples.
Shen Kai had never accepted a disciple.
Mori Jin froze—then slammed his head to the ground.
Once.
Twice.
Seven times.
"This disciple greets Master!"
Shen Kai nodded slowly.
"Go wash yourself," he said. "I will teach you later."
As Mori Jin left, the other disciples couldn't hold back.
"Elder," one asked carefully, "what did you see in that child?"
Shen Kai smiled faintly.
"Tenacity," he replied.
"The kind that survives hell."
Far away from the village, Ming walked ahead in silence.
Wrath followed at his side, her presence calm yet oppressive. Jinhai trailed slightly behind them, his posture straight, his steps respectful.
After a long while, Jinhai finally spoke.
"…May I ask," he said carefully, "where are we heading?"
Ming didn't slow down.
"We're going to meet my other subordinates," he replied flatly.
Jinhai blinked.
"Other subordinates?" He hesitated, then glanced at Wrath. "A-are they… as strong as Miss Wrath?"
Ming let out a short chuckle and turned his head slightly.
"Why don't you ask her yourself?"
Jinhai stiffened.
He looked at Wrath—at her cold, emotionless eyes—and immediately shook his head.
"No," he said quickly. "I already know. Miss Wrath is stronger."
Wrath didn't react. She simply continued walking, as if the conversation didn't concern her.
Ming studied Jinhai from the corner of his eye.
Naive, he thought.
But… his will is solid.
And in this world—
That alone could take someone far.