Chapter 10 – The Call of Blood

A freezing wind howled through the ruins of Azkahel, an ancient battlefield frozen in time. Jin walked slowly, his boots crunching against the thin layer of ice covering the ground. His breath formed white mist that disappeared into the darkness.

Why was he here?

The message he had received was simple, yet carried an implicit threat:

> "Find me where it all began. Where blood and snow sealed your fate."

Azkahel… The place where he had fought his first real battle. The place where he had discovered rage, where his blade had first tasted flesh.

The cold bit into his skin, but that wasn't what troubled him. It was the smell.

A familiar scent. Metallic. Blood.

Jin clenched his fists. He knew it. Someone was waiting for him.

A sinister creaking echoed through the silence. A deep, raspy laugh followed. Then, a figure emerged at the top of a pile of frozen debris.

The Butcher of Frozen Blades.

He hadn't changed. That same frost-covered armor, that massive serrated blade on his back. His eyes gleamed an eerie blue, like two shards of living ice.

— Jin… he murmured as he slowly descended. You've grown, but have you changed?

Jin didn't reply. He simply placed a hand on his sword.

A duel was inevitable.

---

The Butcher vanished.

No movement. No warning. Just absence.

Jin barely had time to lean back as a serrated blade sliced through the air exactly where his throat had been a fraction of a second earlier.

The impact shattered the ice beneath him, sending deadly shards flying for dozens of meters.

Mach 30…

That was the estimated speed of the attack.

Jin rolled to the side and unsheathed his sword in the same motion. His Ryn flared to life, warming his body, slightly dispelling the numbness creeping into his limbs.

He couldn't afford a single mistake.

The Butcher struck again, slicing through the air with surgical precision. Jin barely managed to parry, but the force of the blow nearly tore his arms from their sockets. The shockwave rippled through the ruins, shaking the battlefield for miles.

The Butcher straightened, observing Jin with a predatory grin.

— Not bad… He licked his lips. But still not fast enough.

Jin exhaled slowly, steadying himself. His muscles burned. He had only taken two blows, yet fatigue was already creeping in.

This fight was going to be hell.

---

Jin stepped back, his gaze analyzing every movement of his opponent.

127 strikes in three seconds.

That was what he had endured in the first exchange. The Butcher hadn't slowed down over time. No, he had become even faster, even deadlier.

I won't win if I fight like before.

His fist clenched. His blood was boiling.

Then… he let go.

He let his Ryn take over.

A wave of heat surged through his body. His eyes turned crimson, glowing in the night. The air itself began to vibrate.

The Butcher tilted his head, intrigued.

— You're using that?

Jin didn't answer.

He vanished.

Mach 50.

This time, he was the one attacking.

The impact was titanic. The air erupted in a shockwave, lifting an artificial blizzard around them. Jin followed up, his blade tracing fiery arcs that clashed against the Butcher's frozen mist.

Each strike fractured the ground. Each dodge sent them hurtling hundreds of meters in a fraction of a second.

It was a duel of shadows and light.

But Jin felt something strange.

The Butcher… was smiling.

As if he had been waiting for this.

As if he wanted Jin to lose himself in his own rage.

---

Jin pushed further.

Mach 80. Then 100.

His blade danced, creating a storm of fire around them. Ice melted, steel clashed in a deadly symphony.

But the Butcher hadn't taken a single step back.

— Is that all?!

He struck.

Just once.

And Jin felt his body freeze.

The cold… was everywhere.

His hand trembled. His sword was… frozen.

Even his Ryn seemed to flicker.

Impossible.

The Butcher stepped forward, resting his blade on his shoulder.

— You thought I'd wait all this time without evolving?

He raised a hand.

And Jin understood.

The Butcher wasn't controlling ice.

He was controlling heat itself.

He had manipulated energy, reversing the thermal flow of Jin's Ryn, turning his own power into a fatal weakness.

Jin fell to his knees.

The Butcher placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered:

— Become what you were…

A blade descended.

---

At the last moment, a crimson flash cut through the darkness.

The Butcher froze.

Jin slowly opened his eyes.

And he saw it.

Something… even worse.

A silhouette loomed in the mist. Immense. Indescribable.

The ruins trembled under its presence.

And a voice echoed, cold and absolute:

— It is not yet your time, Jin.

---

End of Chapter 10 – The Call of Blood