A Blade Forged in Suffering

Chapter-19: A Blade Forged in Suffering

The sun rose like a dull ember, casting a sickly orange glow over the wasteland. The ruins around them stood like broken tombstones, remnants of a world long buried under blood and ash.

Kim Han stood in the middle of a deserted courtyard, his expression cold and unreadable. In front of him, Yeon knelt on the cracked stone floor, panting heavily. Sweat dripped down her brow, her tiny hands gripping the rusted sword until her knuckles turned white.

Her muscles trembled from exhaustion, but Han didn't let her rest.

Not yet.

"Again."

Yeon swallowed hard. Her lips were dry, her breath shaky. "Han… I—"

Before she could finish, Han's foot lashed out, kicking her square in the stomach.

Yeon gasped as she hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of her lungs.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn't cry out. She bit her lip, forcing herself to stand again.

Han stared down at her, unflinching.

"This is your reality now," he said, his voice devoid of warmth. "Pain is a lesson. If you don't learn it, you die."

Yeon struggled to her feet, her legs shaking.

Han tossed a small dagger at her. It landed near her feet, the blade gleaming under the morning sun.

"Pick it up."

She hesitated.

Han's eyes narrowed. "I said, pick it up."

Yeon bent down, her fingers curling around the handle. The dagger was cold against her palm.

Han unsheathed his katana, the steel glinting menacingly.

Yeon's breath hitched. "W-What are you—"

Before she could finish, Han lunged.

The air split as his blade sliced downward. Yeon barely had time to react. She stumbled back, throwing up her dagger in a weak attempt to block. The force of Han's strike sent her crashing to the ground once more, her small body skidding across the dirt.

Pain flared through her limbs, but Han was already moving again.

His katana whistled through the air—a killing blow.

Yeon screamed, rolling to the side at the last second. The blade missed her throat by mere inches, slamming into the ground where her head had been.

She coughed, clutching the dagger tightly. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her vision blurred by sweat and fear.

Han stood over her, his katana still buried in the earth.

He hadn't hesitated. Not for a second.

He would have killed her.

Yeon's breath caught in her throat. "You… you really would've—"

Han yanked his sword free, his expression cold as ever. "The next time someone swings at you, they won't stop."

Yeon's hands trembled.

"You don't get to be weak," Han continued. "Not anymore."

Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. But she didn't sob. She just… stared at him.

The boy who had saved her.

The boy who was now turning her into a killer.

Han pointed his sword at her. "Get up."

Yeon's grip tightened around the dagger.

And for the first time… she attacked first.

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The Pit of the Forsaken

Days passed.

Then weeks.

Han's training was merciless. He did not allow Yeon to sleep until her body collapsed. He did not allow her to eat unless she earned it. Every morning began with blood. Every night ended in exhaustion.

But something was changing.

Yeon no longer hesitated when she held a blade.

Her fear had turned into rage.

Her weakness into strength.

She no longer cried when Han struck her. She no longer faltered when forced to kill the wild dogs that hunted them at night.

And one evening, as the sun dipped behind the ruins, Han watched as Yeon stood over a man's corpse—the first man she had ever killed.

Her hands were soaked in blood.

Her breath was unsteady.

But her eyes…

Her eyes were empty.

Han nodded. She was ready.

Because in this world, there was no innocence left to protect.

Only killers survived.

And The Last Ronin was done being merciful.

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