BLOOD OATH "Rise of The Silent Blade "

The first time Kairo Ren killed a man, he didn’t flinch.

It was raining hard that night. The kind of storm that masked the sound of steel slicing through flesh. His blade, soaked in crimson, had slipped between the ribs of a warlord twice his size. One clean strike—just as Master Tenzin taught him. No emotion. No hesitation. Just precision.

That was seven years ago.

Tonight, the rain returned.

Kairo crouched on the temple rooftop, black robes clinging to his lean frame, breath calm despite the storm swirling above. Below, lanterns flickered across the courtyard of the Eastern Archive—a place forbidden to all but the highest elders of the Shadow Sect.

But Kairo wasn’t here for scrolls or secrets.

He was here for answers.

He leaped from the roof, landing silently on the wet stone like a ghost. His gloved hand reached into his sash and drew a blade so dark it reflected nothing—not the moon, not the torches, not the blood it had spilled. The Voidfang—a weapon forged in silence, just like its master.

Inside the archive, dust mingled with damp air. The old wooden shelves groaned under the weight of centuries. Kairo moved with the ease of a shadow, steps deliberate, eyes sharp. He wasn’t just an assassin. He was the assassin—the youngest to rise through the ranks of the sect.

And yet... something had always felt off.

His past was a haze of screams, smoke, and blood. He remembered fire. A woman crying. A name whispered through flames—“Kairo, run.”

That night haunted him. But tonight, he would face it.

He found the sealed chamber hidden behind the elder’s wall. With a subtle twist of his blade’s hilt, he triggered the mechanism Tenzin once unknowingly revealed. The stone door shifted open with a low groan.

Inside, a single scroll rested on a pedestal of obsidian.

The air was heavy, thick with the weight of forbidden knowledge. Kairo approached, heart pounding harder than any battle ever had. He unrolled the scroll with trembling fingers.

“The Ren Line Must Fall – By Order of the High Shadows.”

The words burned into his soul.

His family’s death hadn’t been a casualty of war. It was an execution. Ordered by the very sect that raised him. Trained him. Used him.

He stumbled back, rage and betrayal crashing into him like thunder. His fists clenched. Breath ragged. Master Tenzin—the man who taught him discipline, the man he trusted—had been part of this.

"Why…?" Kairo whispered, voice broken, eyes wide.

A soft footstep echoed behind him.

He turned, blade drawn in an instant.

Tenzin stood at the entrance, hands folded behind his back, expression unreadable beneath the hood.

“You were never meant to see that scroll,” the master said.

Kairo's grip tightened. “So it’s true.”

Tenzin sighed, as if disappointed. “The blood of the Ren line carried dangerous power. Too proud. Too uncontrollable. The elders did what they had to—for the balance.”

“You murdered my parents,” Kairo growled.

“No. I forged you.”

Kairo moved without thought, blade singing through air. Tenzin blocked with a flick of his palm, redirecting the strike with flawless technique. The two danced in deadly rhythm—student versus master, past clashing with present.

“You taught me loyalty,” Kairo hissed, striking again.

“I taught you survival,” Tenzin replied. “And you’re still breathing.”

A burst of chi flared from Kairo’s core as he unleashed a forbidden move—Silent Wind Break. The impact knocked Tenzin back just long enough for Kairo to vanish into the shadows.

He didn't win. Not tonight.

But he didn’t need to.

Now he knew the truth.

As he disappeared into the night, heart aching with betrayal, Kairo swore a blood oath—not for vengeance, but for justice.

The Shadow Sect would fall.

Even if he had to carve his path through every last brother, he once called kin.