"Let them come."
Jiyul's voice was low, but it hit the silent square like thunder. It wasn't loud, but it was absolute.
Selena twitched. She took one step forward, her boots scraping against the crimson-slicked stone.
"You think this is strength?" she asked, her voice sharp and controlled, though the tension in her jaw betrayed her. "You aren't fighting rebels or thieves in some back alley. You are carving up noble streets like a butcher."
Jiyul didn't even turn to look at her. His blade dripped red onto the pristine cobblestones. His eyes never blinked.
"I am not carving streets," he muttered. "I am carving messages."
From the far end of the plaza, a sharp whistle echoed.
Daren's face went pale.
Shadows leapt from the rooftops. Three at first, followed by two more. Five total. They landed silently, surrounding Jiyul. These were not like the previous assassins. They wore bone-white uniforms that fit like armor, tight and efficient. Silver chains hung from their waists, and a different, darker crest was burned across their masks.
Higher tier.
Elite killers from the Silent Fang's inner circle.
Selena cursed under her breath. "Shit."
Each of them moved with a calm, practiced violence. There was no wasted breath, no fear, and no need for dramatic declarations. They were professionals.
One of them spoke, his voice muffled and flat behind his bone-colored mask.
"The target. Alive if possible. Kill all witnesses if needed."
He didn't even finish the sentence before they lunged.
Jiyul moved like death itself.
The first assassin swung from above, his dual blades crossing in a lethal "X" aimed directly at Jiyul's head.
Jiyul didn't block. He stepped between the blades.
In a blink, he was inside the guard of the attacker. He ducked low, his black blade spinning upward from the ground in a savage crescent arc.
Steel met bone.
The assassin's arm flew off, blood spraying in a wide fan. The man opened his mouth to scream, but the sound never came. Jiyul stabbed him through the neck before the severed limb even hit the ground.
Another came at his side—faster, sharper.
Jiyul turned his body sideways mid-spin. He let the attacker's sword glance harmlessly off his shoulder plate, then brought the heavy hilt of his sword down into the assassin's face like a hammer.
CRUNCH.
Teeth hit the ground.
Jiyul slashed upward in a blur, carving the man's face open from jaw to brow. The force of the blow was so violent that flesh and bone sprayed across the road. A piece of the ruin landed at the feet of a noblewoman standing afar.
She stared at it for one second, realized what it was, and screamed in terror before vomiting onto the street.
Blood ran like ink across the cobbles.
Daren, standing yards away, was frozen in place. "That is... not even swordsmanship," he whispered. "That is just war."
Selena's hand hovered near her hip, where her own blade rested. She didn't draw it. Not yet.
One of the remaining assassins—a taller man—spun a silver chain and flung it toward Jiyul. It wrapped tight around his wrist, the metal searing with a hidden seal meant to suppress qi.
But Jiyul didn't resist it.
He yanked the chain toward himself with a violent jerk, pulling the assassin forward off balance. As the man stumbled into range, Jiyul drove a knee straight into his ribs.
The sound was like a tree cracking in a storm. The assassin doubled over, gasping.
Jiyul grabbed the man's mask, twisted it off, and delivered a headbutt that split the skull.
He let the body drop. "Don't bring chains to leash a storm."
Only two were left.
They circled him cautiously. One crouched low, the other held back. They were coordinated. Smart. One to feint, one to kill.
Selena stepped forward, her hand finally gripping her sword hilt.
"Jiyul, enough."
His voice cut through her hesitation like ice.
"You drew blood first, remember?"
She blinked, stopping.
"That arrow in my leg," Jiyul said, his eyes never leaving the assassins. "You shot it without warning. And I didn't die. So don't think now is the time I need your help."
Selena hesitated. Then she pulled her hand back from her weapon.
Jiyul locked eyes with the remaining two.
Then he dashed forward. Not away from them. Through them.
The one crouched low barely raised his blade before Jiyul's boot came down on it, pinning the steel to the ground. Jiyul used the leverage to spin, thrusting his sword deep into the gut of the second assassin. He twisted the blade and wrenched it upward, spilling life across the stones like red thread.
He completed the spin, his leg whipping around to kick the first man's head sideways.
SNAP.
The neck broke.
Silence returned to the plaza.
Blood soaked Jiyul's boots. His heavy cloak dripped crimson onto the stones. The once-elegant street looked like a slaughterhouse.
The nobles who had watched from afar were gone. Some had fled. Some were sick in the alleys. A few just stared, frozen in dread.
Selena approached at last, walking slowly. Her boots crunched on glass and teeth.
"You aren't normal," she said.
"I never said I was."
"You fight like someone who is already dead inside."
"I am."
The wind blew, carrying the metallic scent of the aftermath. Daren finally walked up behind Selena, his voice quiet and shaken.
"I have never... seen anything like that."
The morning mist had turned red, tainted by blood and thick with death. And in the heart of it stood Jiyul, a lone monster wreathed in crimson fog.
Selena stared at him. His hair was soaked in blood, but not a drop of it was his own.
She said only one word.
"...Monster."
Jiyul looked back at her, his expression unreadable.
"No. Just a mirror. This world made me. I just show it what it looks like."