The Dragon's Ember

Shattered Blood

The sound of the killers’ bodies slamming into the concrete walls felt like a sickening echo of death. Cement dust swirled, dancing beneath the dim moonlight filtering through the holes in the tin roof. Kato still stood frozen, his breath coming in gasps. The old man, the figure who had just saved him from instant death, had vanished into the darkness without a trace, leaving Kato alone with the fear still stinging the back of his neck.

Kato had no time to offer his thanks. His instincts, which for years he had dismissed as a survivalist's illusion, were now screaming at him. Something was wrong. The air around him suddenly felt heavy, smelling of metal and the copper tang of blood.

Dammit, he thought as he wiped cold sweat from his forehead. They didn't come alone.

From the shadows of the alley the first killers had passed through, two figures dressed entirely in black emerged, cloth masks covering half their faces. They moved soundlessly, like predators stalking wounded prey. This was Askar and his squad, the elites of the ShadowBlade clan sent specifically to ensure no trace of Kato remained in this world.

Kato picked up the iron pipe he had dropped earlier. His hands were shaking violently. He knew that fighting professional assassins with his bare hands was the most pathetic form of suicide.

"You have lived long enough, Kato," Askar’s raspy voice broke the silence of the slums. "The clan does not care for irregularities. And your existence... is a miscalculation we must erase."

Askar did not wait for an answer. He lunged forward, his speed defying common logic. A dagger slid from his sleeve, aimed straight for Kato’s throat.

Kato did the only thing he could: he threw himself down. He rolled through a puddle of filthy water, dodging a slash that nearly sliced the skin of his neck. Cling! The tip of the dagger struck the iron pipe in Kato’s hand, sending a violent vibration through his wrist bones that felt as if they were about to shatter.

"Weak," Askar sneered. He lunged again, this time with a roundhouse kick that slammed into Kato’s ribs.

Thud!

Kato was sent flying, his body slamming into a pile of wet trash. Pain exploded in his chest, as if his ribs were cracking into sharp shards. His breath caught. As he tried to stand, a thin needle shot from another direction, sinking right into his left shoulder.

It was the poison of the ShadowBlade clan. He knew exactly what came next. His vision began to blur; a searing heat spread from the puncture point, burning through his nerves like glowing embers.

"Finish him," Askar ordered his men coldly.

Kato tried to force his muscles to move, but his body felt like molten lead. He crawled backward, his back hitting the rickety wooden wall of his house. He was on the brink. Death was no longer a threat; it was a guest already standing at the door, ready to knock.

"So this is how it ends?" Kato thought. "Dying in a pile of trash like a discarded stray? Without ever getting the chance to avenge a single insult they threw at me?"

Rage. Not fear, but a pure, dark rage began to fill his chest. It was a strange sensation, as if something deep within his bone marrow was waking up from a long slumber. The ancient seal that had suppressed his potential, the seal placed by the clan when he was born, now began to vibrate violently from the extreme physical trauma.

The blood in his veins boiled. He felt as if a river of lava was rushing through him, incinerating every cell in his body.

Askar approached, his dagger raised high, ready for the final execution. "Be grateful, Kato. Your death will be your final service to the clan."

As the dagger swung down, Kato no longer trembled. He didn't parry. He only stared into Askar’s eyes with a hollow, piercing gaze. In that instant, the seal hindering the flow of energy in his body cracked. It wasn't a normal crack; it shattered into pieces under the pressure of adrenaline and an overflowing will to survive.

An invisible shockwave exploded from Kato’s body. Askar, mid-strike, was forced to halt his movement, his face turning pale with shock. The dagger in his hand vibrated, then cracked, and finally disintegrated into metal shards before it could even touch Kato’s skin.

"What... what is this?" Askar stepped back, gasping for air. "What kind of aura is this?!"

Kato did not answer. He slowly rose to his feet. His shoulder, where the poisoned needle was embedded, began to emit a thin wisp of smoke; the toxin was being absorbed and neutralized by the searing energy radiating from his pores. His legs were no longer unsteady. He felt no pain; he only felt... an immense hunger for power.

The two other assassins approaching from behind stopped instantly. They traded looks of fear they couldn't hide. The aura radiating from Kato was no longer that of an ordinary human. It was something ancient, something that should have been extinct from the world's memory.

"You..." Askar raised his spare sword, though his hands couldn't stop shaking. "You aren't just a failed child. You're a monster."

Kato slowly raised his head. The atmosphere around them suddenly went still. The wind stopped blowing; dust in the air hung motionless, as if afraid to move. Kato felt a throb in his eyes, an intense heat, as if his eyeballs were being cooked by fire.

He was unaware of what was happening to him. He didn't know that the veins around his eyes were turning black, and his once-dark irises were shifting.

"I am merely a man who wants to live," Kato’s voice sounded raspy, no longer his usual tone. His voice resonated with a low pitch that rattled the chest of anyone who heard it.

Askar roared, casting aside his fear and lunging back with an all-out attack. He unleashed his full Shadow Step technique, vanishing and reappearing from various angles to confuse his prey.

But to Kato, Askar’s movements felt slow. Far too slow. Every shift in the air, every swing of the sword, was read clearly by his now-transformed vision.

With a single unintentional but highly precise hand movement, Kato caught Askar’s slashing wrist. The assassin's arm bone let out a loud crack. Askar screamed in agony, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"H-how is this possible..."

Kato twisted Askar’s wrist until the man was forced to his knees. He looked at Askar, and it was then that a brilliant golden light blazed from his eyes, piercing the darkness of the alley and illuminating the assassin's terrified face.

The single word that left Kato’s mouth sounded like a death sentence.

"Begone."

But before Askar could react, the uncontrollable energy in Kato’s hand slammed into the assassin's body, sending him hurtling through the air and smashing through the wall of the building behind him. Kato stood amidst the destruction, his breath heavy, while the golden light in his eyes flared even brighter, illuminating the entire slum district with a terrifying and utterly alien majesty.

He didn't realize that from the shadows of a rooftop, someone was watching with bated breath, recording every detail of the transformation in the young man who had just awakened something that could alter the fate of the entire clan and the world beyond it.

Kato looked down at his hands, now enveloped in sparks of golden energy. He no longer knew who he was. All he knew was that Askar and his men were just the beginning of a long list of those who would have to pay the price for this betrayal. And tonight, the slums would bear witness that the monster they had discarded had returned, with a fire that could not be extinguished.