Evening fell with an eerie stillness.
The trap had been set—a decoy scroll placed in the west storage chamber, marked subtly with a glyph only someone trained in the Flame Sigil's lore would recognize.
It was meant to lure out the traitor.
Yun waited in the dark, hidden behind a lattice screen, heart steady, body still. Beside him, Lady Shen crouched in silence, one hand lightly pressed to the hilt of her ceremonial dagger.
They had waited hours.
Then—soft footsteps.
A flick of shadow passed through the torchlight. A servant in plain robes. Male. Average height.
He crept into the storage chamber, eyes darting around.
He wasn't nervous.
He was trained.
He made straight for the scroll.
Yun tensed.
"Wait," Lady Shen whispered beside him. "Let him take it. Watch where he goes."
But before the man could reach the scroll, he froze.
Something had alerted him.
A sound? A scent?
He turned—eyes scanning the shadows—then bolted back toward the corridor.
Yun didn't hesitate.
He moved like a drawn blade, chasing after him silently through the western hall.
The man moved fast, but Yun was faster.
He leapt, tackled him to the ground.
The two of them rolled across the polished floor.
The man tried to draw a blade, but Yun slammed his wrist down hard against the ground until the weapon clattered away.
The man hissed, snarled—
And shouted something that froze Yun's blood.
"The heir knows. Eliminate him!"
There was a sharp whistle from somewhere above.
Yun looked up.
A second figure leapt down from the rafters.
A second assassin.
Yun grabbed the first man's fallen blade and blocked just in time, steel screeching against steel.
Then—Lady Shen was there.
She struck the second assassin from behind with the hilt of her dagger, buying Yun enough time to regain balance.
The three of them fought in the narrow hall—blades flashing, shadows twisting, breath heavy and fast.
One attacker lunged at Yun.
Yun sidestepped, kicked the man's leg out, and delivered a clean strike to the ribs.
The second turned on Lady Shen, slashing low—
She danced back, parried, and flicked her wrist—
Blood bloomed across his thigh.
The man stumbled.
But before they could capture him, he bit down hard on something between his teeth.
Poison.
He collapsed instantly.
The first tried to follow suit—but Yun struck him unconscious before he could reach his mouth.
Panting, Yun knelt over the man's body.
"Alive," he confirmed. "But not for long."
Lady Shen crouched beside him. "We need to interrogate him. Now."
The unconscious attacker was dragged into a sealed chamber beneath the estate shrine.
Yun paced while Lady Shen prepared a bitter herbal antidote—just enough to delay death. Not enough to undo the poison's effects.
She pressed the mixture to the man's lips. He coughed. Shivered. Eyes fluttered open.
"Talk," Yun demanded. "Who sent you?"
The man only chuckled.
His teeth were blackened. Tongue partially burned. He wouldn't last long.
"I die either way," the man croaked. "Better their wrath than yours."
Lady Shen knelt beside him, eyes sharp. "Who do you serve?"
The man looked at her—then at Yun.
And smiled.
"Not who. What."
Then his body seized.
Foam gathered at the edges of his mouth.
He was gone.
Yun stood frozen, the words echoing in his ears.
What.
Not who.
Later that night, Yun stood outside the main ancestral altar, his cloak heavy with rain. Lady Shen stood beside him beneath the overhang.
"They're not just assassins," she said. "They're loyal to something older. Something darker."
"Cult?" Yun asked.
"Possibly," she murmured. "Or a blood pact."
He touched the pendant beneath his robes—his mother's pendant. It pulsed faintly, almost warm.
"She knew," he whispered. "She knew all of this before it happened."
Lady Shen looked at him, her eyes unreadable. "And now it's happening to you."
He looked at her. "If I die… you'll be blamed."
She held his gaze.
"Then I'll make sure you don't die."
But someone else had seen everything.
From the shadows above, behind a lattice screen near the corridor, Li Chen stood watching.
He had arrived too late to stop the fight.
But just in time to see enough.
He turned without a sound, cloak swaying behind him.
He wouldn't act yet.
Not until he knew where the real sigil was.
And who else might already be loyal to it.