Hunt of Shadows

1. A Cold Trail, Lit with Blood

Three weeks passed.

Not in silence—but in preparation.

Haeun, Haneul, and Jin Haru didn't celebrate their victory over the Crimson King. There were no drinks, no rest, no songs sung for their fallen sect. Just silence, meditation, and fire.

Fire in their hearts.

Fire in their veins.

Fire from the flames that swallowed the ruins of their old home—burned to ash by the same Five Kings who once called them "brothers."

And in that ash, they rebuilt not a sect, but a mission.

"No more hiding," Haeun said on the fourteenth night. "We take them down. One by one."

Not just for vengeance.

Not just for justice.

But because now—they were the last living echoes of their master's legacy.

2. The Kings' Paranoia

The death of the Crimson King sent ripples across the Lower Realm.

The Five Kings met in secret—some in anger, others in fear.

"His clone failed," one growled. "He was supposed to kill them, not fall."

"That wasn't failure. That was a warning," said another. "They're more dangerous than we thought."

The leader among them, King of Obsidian Glass, raised his hand.

"It doesn't matter. We've already rewritten the records. Their sect is labeled demonic. Anyone who shelters them will be branded a traitor."

One of the younger Kings hesitated. "But what if they find out the truth about—"

Silence.

Then a stare that could freeze rivers.

"Then they'll die knowing."

3. Ghosts in the Dark

Back in the mountains, Haeun awoke from meditation drenched in sweat.

His Dantians were blazing—especially the Spirit Core, which had begun changing in shape. Sharper. Denser. Like it was learning.

"You okay?" Jin asked.

Haeun nodded. "Better than okay. I see it now."

"See what?"

Haeun opened his hand, and a fragment of dark spiritual energy danced across his palm.

"Every fight unlocks something. The more we clash, the more the path reveals itself."

Haneul appeared, tossing him a scroll.

"Then you'll like this. Intel from the cult we robbed."

Inside were surveillance notes.

Movements. Weak points.

The Second King's caravan route. Traveling with minimal guards. Sacred artifacts in tow.

Perfect opportunity.

4. Strike While They Scheme

The trio waited atop a cliff overlooking a spiraling canyon, shrouded in mist and enchanted barriers. Below, the Second King's caravan passed through what looked like empty terrain.

But it wasn't empty.

"Look," Haeun said. "The shadows move against the wind."

Cursed cultivators.

Dozens of them.

"He's working with the cult," Jin whispered.

"Or worse," Haneul added. "He is the cult."

5. Ambush

They didn't hesitate.

Haeun dropped first, silent and fast, striking the lead cursed cultivator before he could summon a defense. Haneul cleaved through enchanted sigils with precise Qi arcs.

Jin stood atop the cliff, firing disruption arrows into the air.

Not to kill—but to jam communication talismans.

Panic erupted in the caravan. Soldiers scrambled, but they weren't prepared for cultivators who fought like coordinated ghosts.

Then the carriage door opened.

Out stepped the Second King.

Older than the Crimson King, draped in gold-woven armor, holding a fan made from phoenix feathers—a family heirloom turned deadly weapon.

He looked at them.

Unimpressed.

"Children with vendettas. How quaint."

He waved his fan once.

A sonic boom tore through the canyon.

6. The Price of Power

Haeun's body shook from the shockwave.

He tasted blood.

"He's stronger than the Crimson King," Jin said. "Way stronger."

"Then we break him faster," Haneul replied.

They adapted. Fast.

Jin used noise-canceling Qi to dull the effects of the sonic attacks. Haeun baited the King into using the fan repeatedly—burning his energy reserves.

Haneul charged in with a forbidden technique: Falling Heaven Arc.

It was unfinished.

It was unstable.

But it worked.

The King was knocked back, his armor cracked, phoenix feathers burning.

"You dare?! You low-born mongrels think you can—"

Haeun appeared in front of him, silent.

"No. We know we can."

He pressed his palm to the King's chest.

Resonance Pulse.

Three Dantians aligned.

And the King's heart stopped.

7. Death Number Two

Another King.

Another legacy.

Erased.

They didn't say a word as they burned the caravan.

They didn't bury the body.

They left it hanging, talismans nailed into his chest, glowing with three words:

"The Rebellion Remembers."

8. But They're Being Watched

Far away, in a forgotten shrine lit by eternal lanterns, a girl with silver hair and no eyes scribbled names on a floating scroll.

She paused.

Her inkbrush trembled.

"They've killed another one…"

The scroll shifted.

More names added themselves, written in a language older than time.

And at the very top, glowing faintly:

Haeun.

The ink bled.

"The Nameless One's bloodline still stirs," she whispered.

"We'll have to wake the Sleeper soon."