Joon's eyes fluttered open, his last memories a swirl of shadows and monstrous hounds. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dim light, revealing a cramped space barely larger than a closet, lit weakly by a flickering lantern hanging from a rough wooden beam. The walls were close; the air, thick with damp and dark promise.
'Where am I…?' It stinks in here..it smells like metal and dirt..I hear something too..'
He pushed himself up, his limbs heavy but obedient, feeling strangely intact despite the ordeal. The only exit, a simple wooden door, seemed almost comically plain amidst the terrors he'd faced. 'What's behind it?', he wondered warily.
On opening the door, a wave of chatter washed over him. Before him spread a dark, expansive area shaped roughly like an arena, lanterns hung carelessly around shining weak spheres of light onto an unsettling scene. About twenty or so other children, ranging from 11 to 15, dressed in dirty sackcloth, gathered in small clusters. Their faces, marked by confusion and fear, told stories of sudden abductions.
'Other kids?!'
He overheard snippets of conversation as he edged closer, staying to the fringes, his presence almost ghostlike. "I was just near the stream by Gyeongbokgung… then, nothing," a girl said, her voice tinged with fear. Another chimed in, "We were training near the Jeokyeon monastery in the mountains when everything went dark…"
'Gyeongbokgung? Jeokyeon Monastery? These names...are they from different sects or regions?' Joon pondered silently, his gaze flitting across the small sea of bewildered faces.
'We're we kidnapped?'
"Is anyone here from the Daejin Martial Hall?" a boy asked loudly, hope threading his tone. Replies came in negatives; some shrugged, others shook their heads, all equally lost.
'No one knows why they're here. Just like me,' Joon reasoned to himself, feeling a blend of camaraderie and isolation amidst the oddly gathered group.
His thoughts were interrupted by the presence of figures moving above them. Clad in hooded robes of deep crimson, each bore a chilling sigil of a bleeding eye emblazoned on their backs. They circled the upper tier of the arena-like space, silent observers to the confusion below.
'Up above…are those the ones who kidnapped us? After that situation with the sect leaders and Azazel…where did I end up?'
With cautious movements, he stepped away from the crowd, positioning himself beneath the shadow of an overhanging balcony to escape their immediate notice. His hand moved subconsciously to where the chest skill icon usually appeared in his vision.
'Where am I? What is this place?' he directed the thought inwardly towards the system, the familiarity of the interface a small comfort in the overwhelming uncertainty.
[Current Location: The Arena of Shadows. Designation: Testing Ground. Warning: High-risk environment detected. Proceed with caution.]
The cold, mechanical response from the system resonated in his skull, offering information but little reassurance. 'Testing Ground? For what? And who's testing us?' the questions spiraled, each one burrowing deeper into the nest of doubts and fears breeding in his mind.
As his eyes scanned the grim enclosure and the hooded watchers kept silent vigil, Joon knew one thing for certain. Whatever this test was, whatever these people wanted, it wasn't going to be easy. But he wasn't the same scared kid anymore; the dark abyss had seen to that. Now, he just had to figure out how to survive this new trial, using whatever the 'assassin of gluttony' really meant.
'I need to understand this power, use it. It may be the only way out of here,' his resolve hardened like steel as he watched, waited, and planned his next move in the Arena of Shadows.
As the murmurs and jumbled conversations of the confused youths echoed around the dark, lantern-lit arena, a sudden, profound silence descended. The source: a tall, imposing figure stepping forward on the balcony above, cloaked in a crimson robe marked with the blood sigil. His presence exuded authority and an unsettling calm that commanded immediate attention from everyone below.
"Listen well, children of chance and circumstance," his voice boomed, resonant and commanding, cutting through the residual murmurs like a cleaver. The shadows seemed to lean in closer, as if to listen. "You stand now within the circle of the Forgotten Blood Sect, keepers of balance and hunters of corruption."
A murmur of panic began amongst some of the younger children, whispers of fear and disbelief threading through their ranks. But a simple, stern look from another robed figure—her eyes sharp and scanning—quelled the rising tide of voices with an almost palpable menace.
"We found each of you abandoned, discarded by fate or by your own kin, lost to the world you once knew," the lead figure continued, his gaze lingering pointedly on several of the older ones, instilling a mix of fear and curiosity. "Among you," his piercing gaze settled on Joon, "was found ensconced within a dark cocoon, a young boy infused with a fragment of demonic qi."
'A dark cocoon? Me? How?' Joon thought in confusion.
Whispers erupted again, all eyes turning towards Joon, who felt a chill that wasn't solely from the drafty chill of the arena. The leader's gaze seemed to bore into him, as if seeing more than just the boy before him.
"This Qi," he declared, gesturing broadly to emphasize the gravity of his words, "carries immense potential. Potential that will serve the Sect's goals. As you all will."
The arena grew tense, the atmosphere thickening with dread and curiosity. "Demons and their taint spread across our realm, threatening the cosmic balance we vow to protect. You will learn to combat this threat. You are our new acolytes, and your training begins now."
A young girl, barely twelve, her voice quivering with a mix of fear and defiance, dared to speak. "But why us? We didn't ask for this! We want to go home!"
Her protest was silenced by a mere flick of the leader's hand, the air around seeming to condense and crush any further dissent. "Silence!" he commanded, his voice now a harsh whip. "Destiny does not consult one's desires. You'll train, you'll learn, and in four years, you will execute the will of the Blood Sect—taking lives to preserve many."
Another cloaked figure stepped forward, his voice softer, yet carrying an undercurrent of steel. "You will come to understand the honor bestowed upon you," he said. "The commands we follow serve a greater good. Through the blood you spill, the realm's purity will be maintained. This world is not a gentle one; its peace is bought with vigilance and brutality."
The lead figure gave a final assessing look over the children and teens gathered below. "Your past lives are concluded. Here, you are reborn as the blades of the Blood Sect. Compliance and mastery might grant you life. Defiance will bring certain death."
With those chilling words, the robed figures began to retreat into the shadows from whence they emerged, leaving the children to absorb the gravity of their new reality. Whispers turned to quiet sobbing for some, stony resignation for others, but for Joon, it sparked a fierce determination. Amidst the unsettling revelation of his own mysterious power, he understood one thing clearly: his survival and perhaps the uncovering of his past depended on mastering whatever challenges lay ahead.
Thus began the rigorous, brutal journey of training under the Blood Sect, where the line between heroism and villainy blurred into the shadows they commanded.
The shadowed figure at the balcony continued, his voice now carrying a more malevolent undertone, chilling the hearts of those below. "You will learn the arts of death," he declared, his eyes scanning the eager and fearful faces before him. "Your hands, once ordinary, will wield the fate of empires. Under the Blood Sect, you shall become assassins—cold, precise, relentless. A mere whisper of your involvement shall instill fear across the known lands."
He paused, allowing the gravity of his words to sink in, his gaze cold and calculating. "For centuries, our order has stood as the unseen guardians against chaos. Through bloodshed, we maintain order. Through death, we nurture life. Each strike you make will be a strike for the equilibrium of the world. Remember, the blade that guards the balance must remain unseen, its edge forever stained for the purity of the realm."
As his speech drew onward, the air in the arena seemed to thicken, a low rumble shaking the earth beneath their feet. Suddenly, ominous red sigils began to illuminate across the rocky walls and the floor of the arena, casting a haunting glow that bathed everyone in a sinister light.
From the shadows beyond the flickering torches, a new, terrifying form emerged—demonic red and black centaurs, their muscled torsos a stark contrast to their equine lower halves, which were a mangled weave of shadows and nightmares. Each centaur had eyes that burned like coal, and faces twisted into snarls of rage and malice. Some had jagged scars, others bore markings glowing with a dark, foreboding light, making each of them unique yet equally terrifying.
"The time for words has passed," the Blood Sect leader announced, his voice echoing ominously around the cavernous space. "Your initiation begins now. This is the first wave of your training—prove your worth by surviving the assault of these demonic centaurs. Those who fail to hold their ground until time runs out will face a fate worse than death."
Panic and a flurry of reactions swept through the young recruits. Wails of despair mingled with gritted affirmations, as some prepared to fight while others seemed lost in fear. Joon, his eyebrows furrowed in determination, seemed to find within a quiet brace against the fear that plagued others. He wasn't just unafraid; there was a readiness in his eyes, enhanced by the pulse of his unknown internal power.
Just as Joon steadied himself, he felt a familiar buzz in his mind, a reminder of the strange system that had become his unfathomable guide:
[**Quest: Survive Wave 1. Reward: Revealing of the Assassin Of Gluttony Cheat Skill**]
His heart hammered not from fear, but from anticipation. Gripping his unseen capabilities firmly, Joon prepared himself for the onslaught, the words of the Blood Sect echoing in his mind—an omen or a beacon, he couldn't tell. What he knew was simple: survive. Survive, and learn the true depth of his newly bound fate under the crimson-lit shadows of the Blood Sect.
'I haven't trained my qi for fighting at all…mom and dad never showed me no matter how many times I asked. How do I even fight?!'