The Blood in the Mask
*The Blood in the Mask**
Seventeen years.
That's how long Alex Kai had lived in the jungle without ever seeing another human face besides his mother's.
Or rather, not seeing her face.
She still wore that same black mask, day and night. Over time, he stopped wondering what she looked like beneath it. What mattered more were her hands—calloused from knives, cracked from farming, steady when stitching, always ready to protect.
She raised him with silence, sweat, and survival.
Taught him how to hunt birds with traps. How to gut a snake before it coils. How to tell poisonous roots from edible ones.
But she never taught him how to live in the world.
Because she didn't live in it either.
By seventeen, Alex had become strong eyes sharp and serious.
Still, he was kind. Gentle.
He had inherited his mother's silence, but not her bitterness.
At least, not yet.
It began on a humid morning.
His mother had gone deeper into the jungle to hunt deer. Alex stayed behind to reinforce the traps near the river. The two rarely separated, but this time, she insisted.
"Stay and rest today," she said. "You've trained enough."
He obeyed.
But rest never came.
Because they were already coming.
It started with the sound of rustling.
Too many footsteps.
Too quiet.
Alex's senses snapped into focus. He leapt to the rooftop of their small hut, crouched low, and peered through the canopy.
And then he saw them.
Dozens.
No—hundreds.
Women in robes. Dark robes. Their faces painted with red markings. Some wore blindfolds, others wore veils. They moved as one, like a cult.
A sect.
A sect of women warriors.
And they were surrounding his home.
Alex froze. Who are they?
He dropped down quietly and reached for his blade. But before he could move—
The hut exploded.
A blast of wind and smoke knocked him backward. He hit the tree trunk, stunned.
When the smoke cleared, they were already on him.
They didn't ask questions.
They didn't speak.
They just attacked.
Daggers, spears, chains. Alex blocked, rolled, countered. His training kept him moving—but there were too many.
They overwhelmed him. A flurry of strikes forced him to the ground. A kick sent him flying through the banana trees.
He was dazed, head spinning, senses reeling.
They pinned him down.
One of them raised a blade.
"Where is the masked woman? Where is the disgrace who survived the war?"
Alex struggled. He wanted to shout.
But that's when he heard it.
A scream louder than anything he'd ever heard in his life.
His mother.
She descended from the trees like death itself.
Two kunai in her hands. One in her mouth.
Her mask still on.
She moved like a ghost, slicing through the first line of attackers. Movements swift, precise. No wasted motion. Just finality.
Effortless. Terrifying.
Alex had never seen her like this.
Not even once.
This wasn't the woman who cooked rice and taught him how to snare rabbits.
This was a shinobi of war.
But even she couldn't defeat a hundred.
A blade grazed her side.
Then another struck.
Still, she fought like a demon.
Until one of the women—taller than the rest, wearing a crown of black thorns—stepped forward.
She raised her hand, and the others stopped.
"So it is true," the tall one said. "The masked whore of the Crimson War still lives. And she bore a child."
Alex, battered and dazed, tried to stand.
His mother didn't speak.
She just stepped in front of him, shielding him with her body.
"You came this far just to die," she said coldly.
"You should've died back then," the tall woman hissed. "After they used you. After they tossed you in the forest. You should have rotted there like trash."
Alex blinked in confusion.
Used? Tossed?
What were they talking about?
The tall woman kept speaking.
"Our sisters were slaughtered in that war. And you—what were you doing, huh? Spreading your legs for the enemy? Coming back pregnant with their bastard? You betrayed us all!"
His mother said nothing.
But Alex could see her hands trembling now.
Not from fear.
From pain.
From the memories clawing their way back into her heart.
The truth finally hit Alex.
His mother… was violated during the war.
Left to survive in the jungle.
And worse—her own people thought she chose it.
Thought she willingly lay with the enemy.
Branded her a traitor. A prostitute.
Even though she was the victim.
And they chased her from their sect.
All while she was carrying him.
His whole world shifted.
He wanted to scream.
He wanted to strike back.
But his mother placed her hand on his chest and whispered:
"Don't move, Alex."
Then—she charged.
It was suicide.
But she didn't care.
She tore through the women with a rage Alex had never seen. She was a whirlwind, her blades flashing, her footwork a dance of fury.
But there were too many.
They struck, again and again.
She fell to one knee—then rose again.
She fought until her body could no longer move.
And just as the tall woman raised her sword to finish her—
Alex snapped.
The system flickered sect Skill 001. 1 member you can use beginners Park then.
A blast of energy pulsed from his body.
The earth trembled.
Roots erupted from the ground, slamming into the attackers. Weapons shattered. Screams rang out.
Something awakened inside him—raw, wild, divine.
It wasn't magic.
It wasn't martial arts.
It was something older.
A force of creation.
His body moved on its own.
His eyes glowed white.
He raised his hand—and vines exploded from the earth, wrapping around his enemies, dragging them into the soil, as if the jungle itself had come alive to defend him.
Dozens were swallowed.
The survivors ran.
Only the tall woman remained.
She stared at him with fury.
"You're her cursed blood. We'll be back."
Then she vanished into black smoke.
When it ended, silence fell.
The jungle was scarred.
The hut destroyed.
And in the center of it all… was his mother, collapsed.
Alex ran to her, calling her name.
She looked up at him.
Her mask… was broken.
Half of her face was finally revealed.
And she was beautiful. Tired. Wounded. Strong.
"Now you know… the world isn't fair, Alex," she whispered.
"But you—you can change it."
He gripped her hand tightly, eyes full of tears.
"Don't leave me…"
Her breath slowed.
And with a soft smile, she whispered:
"Live... for both of us."
Her eyes closed.
And the jungle fell quiet again.