A man ran tirelessly, lungs burning, yet he did not falter. Blood trickled from his bitten lips, staining his face, and in his arms, a child wrapped in cotton clothes sobbed quietly.
A dozen men dressed in black trailed him, radiating an almost palpable killing intent. One of them hurled a dagger from behind, striking his right shoulder.
"Aargh!"
"Poison…" he muttered, feeling his strength drain, blood trickling from his mouth like water.
"I have to survive… I promised her. I will not let him die here." Summoning every ounce of will, he pushed forward, feeling as if his organs might give way, until he reached a dead end.
Before him stretched a wide lake, but he did not hesitate. Grabbing a wooden board lying on the ground, he placed the child atop it. A faint smile touched his lips as he ran his fingers through the child's hair.
"Haneul… grow up well," he whispered.
Sliding a piece of paper into the cotton wrapped around the child, he pushed the makeshift raft toward the lake. It drifted gently into the water as the pursuers closed in.
The man stood firm, drawing his sword to block their path. One assassin lunged.
The assassin struck first, a flash of silver slicing through the night, aimed for the man's neck. But his reflexes were faster—his sword severed the assassin's neck in a single strike.
Three more stepped forward, only to be cut down before they could react. The remaining assassins froze, watching their comrades fall, fear creeping into their hearts.
One tried to dash toward the lake to finish the child, but the man swung his sword with deadly precision, ending the assassin's life instantly.
A chilling laugh echoed through the night. A man emerged from the shadows, licking his lips like a predator who had finally found his prey.
"Blood Axe Demon," he whispered.
The demon spat to the side, his gaze piercing and cold.
"Weak," he sneered.
Even the remaining assassins flinched under the demon's aura.
The Blood Axe Demon raised his massive axe. Before the man could react, the weapon crashed down, tearing through his chest. Blood erupted in a crimson spray as he stumbled backwards, collapsing to his knees. Every breath scorched like fire, his vision blurred, and the world tilted. Sounds faded to a hollow echo, and all he could do was stare at the demon looming above.
The Demon glanced at the lake, seeing the child drifting farther on the wooden board, and the storm was gathering overhead.
"The child won't survive… he'll sink," he whispered.
The man was already on the brink of death so the blood axe demon saw no need to finish him off.
He signalled to the assassins to return to the cult. They vanished into the night like wind, leaving only silence.
Out on the lake, the child's cries rang against the darkening sky. The board drifted farther, carrying him into the gathering storm.