The flickering flames of the hearth cast long shadows across the manor's stone walls. Anchhi sat close to the fire, her arms wrapped around her knees, trying to shake off the lingering chill of unease. Shuo Jin sat beside her. Silence had settled between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable—just heavy with unsaid words, like the calm before a storm.
And then the storm hit.
The manor's door burst open with a deafening crash, splintering wood scattering across the floor. Before Anchhi could even react, masked figures clad in black swept inside, their movements swift and deadly. In an instant, one of them lunged at her, a blade flashing in the dim light.
Her breath caught in her throat. But Shuo Jin was faster. His body moved before his mind could even register the danger. He grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the way as the assassin's blade missed her by mere inches.
"Stay behind me," he commanded, his voice cold and sharp, like steel slicing through the air.
Anchhi stumbled back, heart pounding as the gravity of the situation hit her like a blow to the chest. She'd seen her share of danger, but nothing prepared her for this. These men—dark, faceless, merciless—they were here for blood.
Shuo Jin's eyes narrowed as he sized up the intruders. Their attire, their precision—he knew who they were. His people. The underworld assassins, bound by their ruthless code. Yet, they showed no sign of hesitation, as they came at him, swords drawn.
"Their audacity..." he muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening. His rage bubbled beneath the surface.
With a swift motion, Shuo Jin reached for the sword that lay beside the hearth. Without hesitation, he met the first assassin's strike, steel clashing against.
Anchhi could do nothing but watch, her back pressed against the cold stone wall, her fingers trembling. The flames of the hearth reflected in her wide eyes as she saw Shuo Jin—graceful, lethal—cut down the assassins one by one. He moved like a shadow, every slash precise, every movement calculated. It was almost terrifying how effortlessly he killed them.
"It's over," he said, his voice calmer now. "For now."
She took a shaky breath, her hands trembling as she clutched the edge of her robe. She could barely find her voice, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on her like a suffocating force.
"Who… who were they?" she whispered, her voice fragile, breaking the tense silence.
Shuo Jin hesitated, only for a moment, before turning his gaze toward the fallen bodies. "Assassins," he answered carefully, his tone guarded. "It seems they knew you were here."
Her stomach dropped. She had feared something like this ever since their first attempt they did on her. She had hoped that hiding here, with Shuo Jin, would be enough to keep her safe. But clearly, it wasn't.
"They… they couldn't kill me last time," she muttered, her voice barely audible. "Maybe they came to finish the job."
Shuo Jin's eyes flickered toward her, but he remained silent, his jaw tight. Something about the attack had unsettled him—more than she could understand. It wasn't just that they had come for her. There was something deeper.
Anchhi could sense it. "And you? Why did they attack you?" she asked, her voice soft but filled with suspicion. She wasn't naive. His skill with a sword, the way he fought off those assassins with such familiarity… it wasn't just coincidence.
He glanced at her, his expression inscrutable. "It doesn't matter now," he said curtly, turning away from the conversation as if to shut it down entirely.
She opened her mouth to protest, to press him further, but something in his eyes told her not to. He wasn't ready to reveal whatever he was hiding. Not yet. And she wasn't sure she was ready to hear it.
The assassin, the one Shuo Jin had spared, groaned quietly from where he knelt on the ground, drawing both of their attention. His eyes hardened instantly, his expression shifting back to that cold, lethal composure.
"Go to your room," he said to Anchhi, his voice low and serious. "Now."
"But—" Anchhi began, but the look in his eyes stopped her.
"Now," he repeated, leaving no room for argument.
She bit her lip. Her heart still racing, but she nodded slowly. Without another word, Anchhi turned and left the room.
Shuo Jin waited until he heard her footsteps fade before he turned back to the assassin, his eyes dark with restrained fury.
He crouched down to the assassin's level, his voice a deadly whisper. "Who sent you?"
The assassin wheezed, his breath ragged, but managed a smirk through his pain. "You already know," he rasped, his voice hoarse. "The Grandmaster…"
His eyes narrowed, fury flickering beneath the surface. Of course. His suspicions were confirmed.
The Grandmaster had ordered this.
"And the girl?" Shuo Jin asked, his voice low, but filled with menace. "Why her?"
The assassin, battered and broken, let out a strained chuckle. "You already know," he rasped, his lips twisting into a painful smirk his voice hoarse. "The Grandmaster doesn't take kindly to distractions."
As a response, Shuo Jin's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword.
That assassin coughed, blood staining the corner of his mouth, but still, he looked up at Shuo Jin with that same mocking defiance. "The girl... Anchhi," he hissed her name like it was poison on his tongue. "The Grandmaster knows you've been with her. In these mountains, away from the capital… You've lost focus."
The muscles of his jaw clenched. Shuo Jin could feel the truth in his words, though he despised hearing them out loud.
"This attack," the assassin continued, wheezing between breaths, "was a reminder—a wake-up call. You've strayed from your mission, from your path. She's become a distraction, and the Grandmaster won't allow it."
The words cut deep, even if Shuo Jin wouldn't let them show on his face. He had been sent to the mountains with a purpose—a mission that he had sworn to carry out without fail. But Anchhi, with her presence, her warmth, had begun to stir something within him. He knew it, even if he hadn't admitted it to himself yet.
The assassin saw it too.
"The Grandmaster," the assassin spat blood as he spoke, "thinks you've gone soft. All because of her. He won't stop until either you remember your duty… or she's dead."
His eyes darkened, a storm brewing within them. He straightened, his expression hardening as he towered over the assassin. This was more than just a warning—it was a threat. A well-planned strike to shake him, to remind him of who he was.
But the Grandmaster had made a mistake. And Shuo Jin wasn't someone to be controlled so easily.
"Tell the Grandmaster," He said, his voice as cold as the steel in his hand, "that his message was received."
The assassin's grin faltered, sensing the shift in Shuo Jin's tone.
Then, the blade of his hand went down to slit his throat, successfully killing the last assassin too.