The Ironfang Industrial District roared like a wounded beast.
Steam vents hissed from rusted towers, furnaces spat embers into the night, and mechanized pulleys groaned beneath the weight of metal crates. The air reeked of oil, smoke, and fear—always fear. This part of Ashfall worked under the Ironfang Clan's iron grip. Anyone who breathed here did so because the clan allowed it.
Kael walked openly through the main road, violet lanterns reflecting off the rain-slick ground. Workers scurried past him like rats, keeping their heads low. No one noticed the boy moving calmly among them—yet those who did felt an instinctive shiver crawl down their spine.
Something about him was wrong.Too calm.Too silent.Too aware.
Kael's eyes drifted to the steel towers where guards patrolled with mechanical crossbows and spirit-detecting visors.
So this is where the dogs come from.
Earlier that night, he had interrogated the last assassin—what was left of him—until the man choked out a name:
Ironfang Sub-Leader Haron Vex.The one who ordered Kael's death.
Kael chuckled softly.
"One night and you've already become my first stepping stone."
He walked deeper into the industrial labyrinth. Machinery pounded like metal hearts—loud enough to drown screams, convenient enough to hide murders.
Kael loved places like this.
He turned into a narrow side alley, the darkness embracing him like an old friend. His steps halted before a fenced gate guarded by two Ironfang enforcers. Their armor was reinforced with spiritual steel; they carried halberds crackling faintly with electrical charge.
"Stop." One guard lowered his weapon. "This area is restricted. Turn around."
Kael didn't answer.
He looked at their stances: left-foot dominant, weight distributed unevenly, weapons held too high. Guards trained for intimidation, not survival.
Kael tilted his head. "You two… Are you prepared to die tonight?"
The guards exchanged a confused glance—then one frowned.
"Get lost before—"
Kael flicked his wrist.
A crimson filament sliced through the air.
For a moment, the guard didn't understand why his vision dropped lower. Then he saw his own body still standing while his head rolled across the ground.
The other guard screamed, raising his halberd, electricity sparking wildly.
Kael stepped forward, unbothered.
The halberd descended.
Kael caught the electrified blade with two fingers.
The guard's eyes widened. "H-how—"
Kael squeezed.
Metal shattered.
The guard stumbled back, trembling, until Kael pressed a palm under his jaw and lifted him off the ground with effortless strength.
"You'll live longer than your friend, " Kael said pleasantly. "But how long depends on how quickly you scream."
The guard's eyes widened in terror.
Kael slammed him into the steel gate, cracking it open. The guard's back bent unnaturally, bones snapping like dry sticks. Before he could even cry out, Kael twisted his arm backward, dislocating it with a wet crunch.
His screams echoed across the courtyard.
Kael dropped him.
"Pathetic, " he whispered.
He stepped over the writhing man and slipped into the Ironfang compound.
---
Inside the Ironfang Lair
The compound was built like a fortress: steel walls, guard towers, and a central longhouse where leadership held their meetings. The courtyard was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the ground like giant claws.
Kael walked straight toward the longhouse as if he owned it.
Two guards stood at the entrance. They saw a blood-splattered boy approaching and immediately tensed.
"You—Stop! Identify yourself!"
Kael didn't stop.
"I'm here to return a gift, " he said.
"A… gift?"
Kael reached into his coat.
The guards braced for an attack.
He instead pulled out a small steel box.
Inside it was a severed hand—still twitching—from one of the assassins sent to kill him.
The guards recoiled in horror.
"What—what is—"
Kael flicked the hand at their feet. "You sent this to me first. I'm simply being polite."
Before they could shout, Kael blurred.
Both guards hit the ground at the same time, throats slit so cleanly they didn't bleed for a full second. Then twin fountains of red sprayed the steps.
Kael pushed the longhouse doors open.
---
The Council of Ironfang
Inside, clan officers sat around a massive table, discussing shipments, rival clans, and the rising threat of bandit lords.
And then the blood-smeared boy walked in.
The room froze.
Steel scraped as chairs slid back. Hands went to weapons. Eyes widened.
Sub-Leader Haron Vex—a burly man covered in tattooed fangs—stood up, scowling.
"Who, " he growled, "let a child inside?"
Kael wiped a streak of blood from his cheek with one finger.
"You're Haron Vex."
Haron glared. "And you are?"
Kael smiled. "The reason your assassins won't be coming home."
Silence.
Then the officers burst into laughter, thinking it a joke.
A child? Killing ten Ironfang assassins?
Their laughter died when Kael dropped the silver pendant of their clan—bent nearly in half—onto the table.
Haron's pupils shrank.
"You little—"
Kael took one step.
The Blood Circuit pulsed.
Haron saw only a blur before Kael's fist slammed into his gut with enough force to launch him across the table. Papers, dishes, and inkpots exploded into the air.
Haron hit the wall. Hard.
Before he could recover, Kael appeared before him, gripping his throat.
"You ordered my execution, " Kael said softly. "Bold. Stupid. Admirable, in a suicidal way."
Haron's face turned red as he struggled, fingers clawing Kael's wrist.
Kael lifted him higher.
"You should choose your prey more carefully."
With a brutal crunch, Kael slammed Haron's head through the wooden wall.
The officers screamed.
Some drew weapons. Others tried to flee.
Kael sighed. "Please. One at a time."
Three rushed him.
Kael kicked a table leg upward, sending the massive oak table flipping through the air. It crashed into two officers, pinning them against the wall—bones snapping from the weight.
The third swung a sword reinforced with spiritual steel.
Kael caught the blade between his palms. Sparks flew. The man's eyes widened in disbelief.
Kael twisted the sword and drove it straight through the man's chest.
He dropped dead instantly.
Two more officers tried to escape through the back door.
Kael flicked two crimson lances.
Both men fell mid-run, spines severed where the red light pierced them.
The final officer—a frail, elderly strategist—fell to his knees.
"P-please… I can serve you. I-I know clan secrets—routes—alliances—"
Kael approached him slowly.
The man trembled violently.
"You want to serve me?" Kael asked. "Tell me why I shouldn't tear your tongue out and feed you to your own clan dogs."
"I—I-I can offer information! Anything! Anyone! Secrets! Just—just don't kill me, young master!"
Kael stopped.
He crouched.
Then smiled softly.
"Very well. You will serve."
The man exhaled shakily.
But Kael's smile vanished.
"Unfortunately, " he continued, "you will serve as an example."
Kael pressed his hand to the man's face.
CRACK.
The skull imploded.
Kael stood, dusting his palms.
Haron Vex, barely conscious, groaned. Kael dragged him by the collar into the center of the room.
"Spread the word, " Kael whispered into his ear. "The Crimson Shadow does not forgive."
He slammed Haron onto the council table.
Crimson light gathered around Kael's arm.
One swift strike.
Haron's body jerked violently as Kael punched straight through his chest, shattering his heart.
Blood splattered across the room in an arc.
Kael let the corpse fall.
He looked around the chamber—now silent, painted red.
The Ironfang Sub-Leader was dead.
The officers were dead.
Only Kael remained.
He whispered to the empty air:
"One clan down. More to go."
He stepped outside into the cold night breeze as smoke stacks billowed in the sky.
Ashfall would wake to a rumor tomorrow—one clan leader slaughtered by a crimson-eyed demon.
Kael adjusted his coat and walked away, disappearing into the industrial fog.
His empire had begun with blood.
And it demanded more.