Wu Yan could hear whispers clearly but still couldn't make out what they were saying. Yet he was certain that someone was asking him something. "I will hold them," he said to Su Jin as he sensed a few shadows approaching.
They found themselves in a wide room that connected to the main entrance, the perfect choke point. As Su Jin agreed and left him alone, he closed the door behind Su Jin and barred it with chains dangling from the door lock.
He tied the sheath on his back as his eyes locked on the other end of the room, the door to the stairs. The darkness was very thick, the silence, the distant echo playing tricks on his senses. But Wu Yan remained vigilant, his new curved dark sword tightly gripped, his senses heightened.
The anticipation was suffocating as he took one large breath, filling his lungs to the brim, and slowly released it, calming his nerves. He didn't take the next breath, his eyes focused, ready for anything. Then, four figures materialized out of the gloom, each clad in head-to-toe black, their faces obscured by wide-brimmed hats and featureless masks. Their movements were fluid, and silent, like smoke flitting across the room.
"You shouldn't be here," Wu Yan spoke, his voice a low hum. It wasn't a plea, but a statement, a fact, a challenge echoing in the small room. The four figures, their movements perfectly synchronized, drew their weapons at once – two hooked swords and a pair of razor-sharp daggers.
The darkness of this underground room was in their favor as they took each corner while Wu Yan guarded the locked door. Even with his heightened senses honed by cultivation, Wu Yan found himself relying more on intuition than sight in this inky blackness. The four shadows, clad in their dark garb, seemed to melt into the darkness, their faint outlines visible only when they moved.
The first attack came without warning. A hooked sword materialized out of the gloom, its curved sharpness aimed for Wu Yan's throat. He twisted with practiced ease, the dark sword in his hand deflecting the blow with a clang that echoed in this small but empty space.
Like a well-rehearsed dance, the other attackers followed. The woman, twisted like a viper in human form, struck with her dagger in a flurry of silent jabs, each aimed at vital points. Wu Yan parried each strike with a blur of his dark sword, the ringing of metal is the only communication in this deadly exchange.
At the height of the deadly exchange a question got cleared in his mind, why did he choose this? He could have stayed with Su Jin and tackled this deadly encounter with much ease, why did he choose this? Did he have a death wish?
"Don't hurt my brother!" a whisper echoed in his mind.
"What?" Wu Yan lost his focus for a moment. The shadows found this as a chance and they pounced.
The hooked sword wielder, seeing an opening, rained down a flurry of blows, his blade a whirlwind of deadly metal. One of the hooked points managed to snag the sleeve of Wu Yan's robe, ripping it free and slicing a sliver of his arm. Pain flared, but Wu Yan ignored it as if he was not there at all.
"Brother, you are hurt." Wu Yan heard a sobbing voice, a caring voice near him. He turned to look and saw a small child nearby, someone he recognized yet didn't know. Why was he feeling such intense emotion?
"Little Han?" Wu Yan's voice cracked in disbelief. This couldn't be real. He hadn't seen his little brother in years. Yet, the tear tracks staining Han's soot-smudged cheeks were undeniable.
His eyes locked onto the small boy. "Han?" The name felt strange on his lips, but the feelings it stirred – a strong urge to protect mixed with unease – felt real. Is this an illusion? He had no brother. Yet, the sight of the tearful face, the fear in those wide eyes, stirred deep emotions. Confusion battled with a strong desire to shield this child. What is this? Was this a hidden wish, a sorrow for a lost sibling he never had? Is this a sinister ploy used by these assassins, trying to control him?
"Do not worry, little Han. Your big brother is invincible," Wu Yan's lips opened, uttering the words as if by instinct. Fire engulfed around him as a searing heat started to burn his skin. "Yoruichimaru! I need you now more than anything." Wu Yan whispered as he looked up at the four flame demons in front of him.
"Brother, use the "Eternal Samsara". Little Han suggested with his ragged breath.
"No, I can handle these foes," Wu Yan asserted, determination shining in his eyes as he refused Little Han's suggestion. But a question lingered in his mind: What is this Eternal Samsara? It wasn't the first time he'd heard of it. It seemed an answer was waiting for him, explaining his reluctance.
Eternal Samsara was a technique that offered a single, devastating strike – the obliteration of everything in its path. A single strike that will kill everything in the blade's range. Sounds simple, but it's absolute. A cold dread snaked through him. Everything. The reason he does not want to use it is because the Eternal Samsara will kill everything, sparing nothing, not even his own little brother, Han.
He needs to make a distance from his little brother if he is going to use this technique.
Little Han, sensing his brother's despair, made a desperate move. With a heartbreaking sob, he threw himself towards the approaching flame demon, a single tear catching the flickering light. "No! Don't hurt my brother!"
Wu Yan's world erupted in a silent scream. Fury, raw and primal, coursed through him. He doesn't care if this is a nightmare or reality. He wouldn't lose his little brother Han. With a roar, he unleashed Yoruichimaru 's full power.
"RETURN TO ETERNAL SAMSARA!!!" His voice, not in his control, roared out the forbidden words.
A blinding flash of dark & white consumed everything. The scream died in Han's throat, his small form engulfed in the light. The flame demons dissolved into wisps of smoke. And then… silence.
Wu Yan collapsed, his dark sword Yoruichimaru clattering to the stone floor beside him. Nightmare swallowed him whole, a darkness far deeper than the darkness of this underground jail.
Beside him, the four shadow assassins lay still, their bodies cut in half by an unseen force. Only Wu Yan remained, unconscious and alone.