The silence that followed was thick with unspoken threats. Jin stood unmoving, his fingers lightly wrapped around the hilt of his sword. The figures before him were no mere mercenaries—there was something practiced in their stance, something disciplined in their presence.
The leader, a man clad in dark armor with a crest Jin didn't recognize, took another measured step forward. His voice, calm but edged with command, cut through the night. "Last chance, wanderer. Stand down and come with us. The children are not your concern."
Jin exhaled slowly. The moonlight reflected off his blade as he shifted his stance ever so slightly. "They are now."
A flicker of something—annoyance?—crossed the man's face. "Then you leave us no choice."
A hand signal. The soldiers moved as one.
Jin barely had time to react before the first strike came. He dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the glinting edge of a spear. Spinning, he brought his sword up just in time to deflect another blow aimed at his ribs. The force of the impact sent vibrations through his arms, but he gritted his teeth and pushed forward.
The children scrambled back, pressing against a tree, their eyes wide with fear. Jin had to keep them safe—no matter what.
Another soldier lunged. Jin ducked low, using his smaller frame to his advantage as he slid beneath the attacker's guard. His blade flashed in the moonlight, striking true. The man let out a strangled gasp and collapsed.
The others hesitated.
The leader's expression darkened. "He's fast. Adapt."
They did.
The next attack was coordinated—two soldiers feinted from opposite sides while a third came from behind. Jin spun, parrying one strike, twisting his body to evade another, but the third managed to land a glancing blow against his shoulder. Pain lanced through him, but he didn't let it slow him down.
He lashed out, his sword carving a crimson path through the air.
Another soldier fell.
The rest adjusted their approach, becoming more cautious.
The leader sighed. "Enough."
Jin barely had time to register the shift in energy before something heavy slammed into his back. The force sent him sprawling, his breath driven from his lungs. A shadow loomed over him—another warrior, larger than the others, wielding a weighted chain.
Jin tried to push himself up, but the man struck again, the chain wrapping around his wrist, yanking him forward. He gritted his teeth, twisting his body to lessen the impact, but a boot slammed into his side, forcing him back down.
The children cried out.
"Stay back!" Jin rasped, struggling against the chain. He could feel his strength waning. He had pushed too hard, fought too many battles in too short a time.
The leader knelt beside him, his expression unreadable. "You fight well, wanderer. But this battle is over."
Jin glared up at him, his breath ragged. "If you think I'll—"
"We don't need your compliance. Only your presence."
A swift movement. Something sharp pricked his neck. Jin's vision blurred.
Poison.
The last thing he heard before darkness claimed him was the sound of the children screaming his name.
Pain.
It was the first thing he registered when consciousness returned. A dull, throbbing ache in his limbs, a burning sensation at his shoulder where he had been struck. His mind felt sluggish, the remnants of the poison still lingering in his system.
Slowly, Jin opened his eyes.
The room was dimly lit, illuminated only by a few flickering lanterns. Stone walls. Heavy iron bars. The unmistakable scent of damp earth.
A prison cell.
He shifted slightly, testing his restraints. His wrists were bound, thick metal cuffs clasped around them, connected by a short but sturdy chain.
"You're awake."
Jin turned his head. Beyond the bars, sitting in a chair with one leg crossed over the other, was the armored leader. He regarded Jin with something close to curiosity.
"I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever wake up," the man continued. "That dose should have kept you unconscious for much longer. You are… resilient."
Jin remained silent, his gaze steady. He would not give this man the satisfaction of seeing him rattled.
The leader chuckled. "No words? That's fine. We'll talk when you're ready. For now, let's start with introductions."
He leaned forward slightly. "I am Commander Darius of the Obsidian Guard. And you, wanderer, have caused quite a bit of trouble."
Jin narrowed his eyes. "Where are the children?"
"Safe. For now."
A muscle in Jin's jaw tightened. "If you've harmed them—"
"You're not in a position to make threats." Darius stood, pacing slowly in front of the cell. "You have a reputation, you know. A nameless swordsman with unnatural abilities, emerging from the Hollow Vale. Some call you a ghost. Others, a demon. But I think you're something far more interesting."
Jin said nothing.
Darius stopped, turning to face him fully. "Tell me, wanderer… what do you know of the Withering Moon?"
Something in Jin's chest clenched.
The Withering Moon.
A name he had only ever heard whispered in the darkest corners of forgotten texts, spoken with reverence and fear alike. A force that had shaped the fates of countless warriors before him.
"Your silence is telling," Darius mused. "Good. That means you at least understand the weight of what I'm asking."
Jin exhaled slowly. "And what do you want with it?"
"Power. Knowledge. The same things you seek, I imagine." Darius smirked. "You may have survived the Vale, but the true test is yet to come. You are standing at the precipice of something greater than yourself. Whether you rise… or fall… is up to you."
Jin met his gaze, unflinching. "And if I refuse?"
Darius shrugged. "Then you rot in this cell until you're no longer of use. Either way, the storm is coming, wanderer. And you will be part of it—whether you want to or not."
Jin closed his eyes for a brief moment, steadying his breath. The chains around his wrists were heavy but not unbreakable.
Neither was fate.
He would find the children.
He would escape.
And he would uncover the truth about the Withering Moon.
No matter what it cost him.