The night sky above Mount Liang was thick with mist, a ghostly silver hue washing over the treetops. The valley was silent except for the crackling fire in the Black Fang encampment and the distant howls of beasts.
Kang Jinhyuk sat alone at the edge of a cliff, the wind tugging at his tattered cloak. Below him, the forest stretched endlessly a dark ocean of shifting shadows. The Crystal Legacy's lessons still burned within his mind, echoing through every heartbeat.
But tonight, he wasn't training.
Tonight, he was listening.
Ever since mastering the second form of the Crimson Flow, his senses had sharpened beyond measure. Every faint sound, every tremor in the wind, every flicker of killing intent whispered to him like voices in the dark.
And tonight, those whispers carried danger.
…They're watching me again.
His eyes flickered crimson for a moment before returning to normal. Somewhere, beyond the ridge, a pair of eyes glimmered—hidden, silent, waiting.
Down in the city of Yeonhwa, where the Black Fang had spread their influence, Hwang Taejoon, a young martial elite from the Iron Spear Sect, slammed his fist into a wooden table.
Black Fang is growing too bold! he spat, his voice shaking with anger. That bastard—the Crimson Bandit—dares to raid our caravans, seize our weapons, and still breathe?
His lieutenant, a scarred man with one eye, bowed his head. We confirmed it, young master. The bandit leading those raids… it's the same man from the Red Ridge massacre. Kang Jinhyuk.
The name hung in the air like venom.
Taejoon's lips twisted into a grin that didn't reach his eyes. Kang Jinhyuk… I heard that name once before. The farmer turned butcher. He humiliated the Murim Alliance patrol two months ago, didn't he?
Yes, sir. He's climbing through the underworld fast, earning loyalty from smaller bandit factions.
Then he's a threat, Taejoon said coldly, grabbing his spear and spinning it with precision. A threat to the Alliance… and a potential pawn for the Unorthodox side. That makes him dangerous to everyone.
He looked out the window toward the distant mountains. We'll hunt him soon. But not yet. Let him grow a little more… then I'll crush him in front of the entire Murim.
A shadow moved behind Taejoon.
A voice, calm and venomous, answered him.
Careful, young master. Those who hunt the cursed often become cursed themselves.
Taejoon turned sharply. The speaker was cloaked in black, face obscured by a fox-shaped mask.
Who are you?
The masked figure tilted their head. Just a messenger from someone who has… interest in the Crimson Bandit's future.
Interest? Taejoon sneered. Then tell your master he's welcome to die alongside him.
The masked figure chuckled softly, stepping backward into shadow. You'll change your tune soon enough. The Crimson Bandit isn't just a man. He's a spark and the Murim world is soaked in oil.
And with that, the figure vanished, leaving only the faint scent of incense and the chill of prophecy behind.
Back in the mountains, Jinhyuk was sparring with Dan Sae-Ryeo. The two clashed under the moonlight, blades flashing in the darkness. Sae-Ryeo's speed was unmatched, her dagger weaving intricate arcs through the air, while Jinhyuk's strikes carried precise, lethal intent.
Their fight wasn't just training, it was a test of instincts, trust, and timing.
She flipped back, kicking dust into his face. You're distracted again, she said, smirking. You keep looking over your shoulder like a guilty man.
Jinhyuk parried her next strike with ease, his expression calm but eyes sharp. Not guilty. Just cautious. The world moves differently when someone's watching.
She raised an eyebrow, blade hovering an inch from his throat. You think we're being spied on?
I don't think, he said. I know.
The two froze.
Behind them, a leaf fell. Then another.
Jinhyuk's blade moved faster than thought. A silent shhhhk cut through the air...
and a dart split in half before it reached his neck.
From the trees, two black-clad figures burst forth, masked assassins with light steps and deadly aura.
Murim spies, Jinhyuk muttered, eyes narrowing.
Sae-Ryeo flipped backward, twin daggers flashing. From which faction?
No idea, he said grimly. But their killing intent smells like the Murong family's dogs.
The assassins moved like shadows...silent, relentless. But Jinhyuk's new training with Jeok-Ma showed its worth. His movements were calm, surgical. He parried a blade, twisted, and with one step, the Crimson Flow echoed through the air...
A phantom slash cut through both assassins' throats before their weapons even reached him.
Their bodies fell silently, eyes wide in disbelief.
Sae-Ryeo looked down at them. You've gotten even scarier, you know that?
He sheathed his blade. No. Just more efficient.
Her gaze softened slightly. You say things like that, but… your eyes still look sad.
He didn't answer. His mind had already drifted far away to memories of Namgung Yura, and to the whispers of conspiracies that had murdered his family.
If Murong assassins were already hunting him, it meant one thing...
"They knew".
Later that night, Jinhyuk stood outside the Black Fang's stronghold, staring into the distant city lights.
So it begins again, he thought. First the Namgung, then Murong, now the Alliance itself. The threads all lead to the same hand.
Jeok-Ma's voice echoed faintly in his mind.
You think small. This isn't about a single clan's greed. The Murim world itself is rotting. You're just starting to smell the decay.
Jinhyuk's jaw tightened. Then I'll burn it clean.
Be careful, boy. The moment you draw that line, you become the very monster they fear.
He smirked. Then let them fear.
Meanwhile, deep within the Namgung Clan Palace, the great hall glowed with golden lanterns. Patriarch Namgung Jin presided over a council of elders, their expressions grim.
We've confirmed the rumors, said one of them. Kang Jinhyuk has survived—and he's operating under the banner of the Black Fang.
The patriarch's hand clenched around his cup. Impossible. He should have died six years ago.
Another elder nodded. And yet… witnesses say he carries the same blade that killed our envoys in the Red Ridge incident.
The name stirred unease in the room.
The Crimson Bandit.
The patriarch's eyes narrowed. If this is true, we cannot allow his existence to spread. The Murong family is already watching us. If the world learns we failed to eliminate him, our reputation collapses.
An elder leaned forward. The Murong heir, Baek-Ho, has already requested another meeting. He insists that the engagement with Lady Yura proceed immediately, to 'unite both clans.'
Namgung Jin's jaw tightened. If Baek-Ho believes he can use marriage to bind our influence, he's mistaken. But…
His expression darkened. If Jinhyuk truly lives, then Yura's heart must be silenced before it betrays us.
The hall fell silent.
Far above, on the palace's moonlit roof, Yura sat alone, watching the stars. The night breeze brushed against her hair, and her heart throbbed painfully.
She whispered softly, almost like a prayer.
Jinhyuk… wherever you are… please don't let your light die in that darkness.
Her tears glistened like diamonds in the moonlight.
Unseen by her, a figure cloaked in shadow stood atop a distant pagoda, watching the palace through a spyglass. Their mask bore the mark of the Nine Veiled Court the mysterious organization rumored to manipulate Murim politics from the shadows.
Target confirmed, the figure whispered into a crystal communicator. Namgung Yura… still carries his memory.
A distorted voice answered from the other end.
Then the Crimson Bandit will return. Let him. The game begins in the next volume.
The figure smirked beneath their mask.
As planned. The world will soon remember the name Kang Jinhyuk.