The city of Ashfall never slept; it merely blinked. In those brief moments of quiet—between the shouts of beggars and the clashing of mercenaries—shadows moved more freely than citizens. The air always carried the metallic scent of blood mixed with smog from the steam-furnaces. Towering jade-wired pagodas stood beside rusted steel towers, the unusual mix of old-world martial tradition and forbidden technology marking Ashfall as the capital of the fractured Lower Empyrean Territory.
Rain trickled endlessly here, carrying grime from the crowded upper walkways to the lower districts where the forgotten lived. Down below, lantern lights flickered against puddles, distorted reflections of a world built on the bones of ancient giants and ruled by clans greedy for power.
Somewhere deep in those dripping alleyways, Kael Jin strolled alone.
A thin layer of mist curled around his feet as he walked, his steps calm and deliberate—too calm for a boy alone at night. His clothing was simple: dark robes girded with reinforced threads, and a long coat that brushed the ground. His jet-black hair fell over his eyes, but whenever his gaze shifted even slightly, the faint crimson glint beneath his irises shimmered like a predator glimpsed through smoke.
He stopped in a narrow passageway flanked by dilapidated homes stacked atop each other like precarious graves.
A faint hum echoed in his chest.
They're here, the Blood Circuit whispered through his nerves.
Kael lifted his head slightly.
Five heartbeats from the left. Three from the rooftops. Two behind him, perched in the pitch-black.Ten assassins. Silver-grade by their pulse stability. Tools coated in venom. Movements too quiet for ordinary killers.
The corner of Kael's mouth curled.
"So they finally found the courage."
Thunder rumbled overhead, rolling across the sky like distant drums of war. Rain intensified, striking the metal roofs in a heavy rhythm as the first assassin made a move.
A knife whistled through the air—silent to a human, painfully slow to Kael. He tilted his head, allowing the blade to pass by inches. His eyes gleamed as he saw the reflection of the attacker in the polished weapon surface.
Sloppy. Desperate. Predictable.
Kael didn't even look back when he spoke. "You thought hiding your footsteps would help?"
The attacker froze. A moment too late.
Kael vanished.
No—he moved so fast the rain droplets parted around him like scattered pearls.
There was a sickening crack as Kael's hand clamped onto the assassin's throat from behind, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. The man struggled, legs flailing, air cut off by the pressure of iron fingers.
"You serve the Ironfang Clan, don't you?" Kael said calmly, watching the man's terror bloom. "You people never change. Send dogs, expect miracles."
The assassin choked, dagger falling from his trembling hand.
Kael tightened his grip.
Bones cracked. The scream was wet, bubbling, cut short as Kael twisted sharply. The body fell to the muddy ground with a dull thud.
Silence.
A moment later, chaos erupted.
Three assassins dropped from the rooftops, blades flashing with poison, their movements synchronized like trained wolves.
Kael stepped forward, rain streaming off his coat.
The first assassin lunged. Kael's knee shot upward, crushing the man's ribcage inward. Blood spurted from his mouth before he even fell.
The second slashed horizontally. Kael leaned back with inhuman control, the blade grazing only air before Kael grabbed the attacker's wrist and snapped it backward so violently that the bone pierced through the skin. The assassin shrieked, crumpling to the ground as Kael kicked him into a wall, shattering his skull.
The third assassin hesitated.
A fatal mistake.
Kael appeared beside him, whispering, "Your pulse is too fast. You should've run."
He rammed his hand through the man's chest until fingers touched a beating heart. The assassin's eyes widened in disbelief as Kael squeezed. Blood sprayed violently. The heart stopped.
Kael withdrew his hand, letting the corpse fall.
Four left.
The remaining assassins regrouped at the alley mouth, fear flickering across their masked faces.
"Demon…" one muttered. "He's not human!"
Kael wiped blood from his fingertips using the robe of a fallen attacker. His expression didn't change—calm, composed, but darker than the night around him. The Blood Circuit pulsed again, faint crimson lines appearing under his skin like glowing veins.
"Human? No, " Kael said softly, stepping forward. "I'm what your clans fear most."
Two assassins threw smoke pellets, filling the alley with choking fumes. The faint clatter of chains swirled through the fog—they were preparing a combined strike, a trained maneuver meant to disable targets stronger than them.
Kael smiled.
They think fog will hide their tremors? Their pulse vibrations? Their fear?
He closed his eyes.
The Blood Circuit activated fully.
A surge of sensory data crashed into his mind—sonic vibrations, heartbeat patterns, air pressure shifts. Everything. Everyone. Their exact positions mapped out like red silhouettes in his mind.
Kael stepped into the smoke.
The first assassin stabbed upward—but Kael caught the chain mid-air, yanking the man forward and slamming his elbow into the assassin's face. Bone tore through skin. The man collapsed in convulsions.
Another swung a blade from behind. Kael pivoted smoothly, grabbed the attacker's jaw with one hand and the back of his skull with the other—
—and twisted.
A grotesque snap echoed. The head turned a full half-circle as the body fell lifelessly.
Two left.
They turned to flee.
Kael didn't chase. He simply raised his hand and flicked his fingers.
A needle-thin crimson lance shot out—a compressed burst of blood-forged energy created by the Blood Circuit's internal reserves. It pierced straight through the first assassin's spine, burning a hole through bone and marrow. The man fell screaming, half-paralyzed, dragging himself in a futile attempt to escape.
Kael walked forward, slow and deliberate.
The last assassin tripped over a loose stone, falling backward. "P-please! I—We were only following orders! Spare me! Please, young master Kael—!"
Kael crouched before him.
"Your fear is refreshing, " he murmured. "But I don't need your plea. I need your message."
The assassin stared in confusion—then horror as Kael pressed a finger against the man's forehead.
A surge of crimson light shot into his skull.
The assassin convulsed violently as the Blood Circuit overloaded his pain receptors, forcing information from his mind—the order sender, the route they took, their clan, their leader's location. Blood poured from every facial orifice. When Kael withdrew his hand, the man was shaking uncontrollably.
"T-the Ironfang Clan… they—they ordered—"
Kael silenced him with a gentle touch to the neck. A flick.
The spine snapped.
The body fell limp.
Kael stood, rain washing blood from his boots as he surveyed the alley. Broken bodies lay scattered in grotesque positions. Splashes of red mixed with the rainwater in rivulets, flowing like veins down the stone path.
A cold breeze swept through the alley, carrying the stench of death.
Kael inhaled deeply—not disgusted, but thoughtful.
Ten assassins. Ironfang Clan. Lower sub-branch. They wouldn't dare act unless pushed by someone higher.
The Blood Circuit flickered, reading Kael's rising pulse.
Yes, he agreed silently. It's time to begin.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a silver pendant taken from the first corpse. The Ironfang insignia—a wolf biting into a steel chain—gleamed dully in the dim light.
Kael clenched it in his fist until the metal bent.
Ashfall's towering structures loomed overhead. The Ironfang Clan controlled the industrial sector—factories, steam-mills, and power conduits. Their influence stretched far. But fear traveled farther.
Kael dropped the twisted pendant into the bloodied water at his feet.
"They wanted me dead, " he whispered. "So I'll carve their clan from its own roots."
He turned toward the end of the alley, where lantern lights flickered and the distant sound of guards patrolling drifted through the air.
The city didn't know yet.
But tonight, a warning had been written in blood.
And soon… the world itself would tremble.
Kael's coat fluttered behind him as he walked, rain falling harder now, forming crimson rivers that flowed between cobblestones.
Lightning illuminated the cityscape.
The crimson veins beneath Kael's skin glowed brighter in response.
His goal was clear—his ambition absolute.
Rebuild his fallen bloodline.Crush every clan that once mocked it.Seize the world piece by piece.
He whispered into the storm:
"Let the clans hide behind their walls. Let kingdoms beg their protectors for safety. Let the world believe itself powerful."
A smile slowly crept across his face—cold, sharp, and filled with the promise of carnage.
"They have no idea what I'm about to take from them."
He disappeared into the dark streets, leaving behind only corpses—and the beginning of a legend whispered in fear:
The Crimson Shadow walks.