"Every oath written in blood demands a price."
The scent of smoke and ash still clung to the air long after dawn.
Jaewon stood on the cliff's edge, the ruins of the vampire fortress smoldering in the valley below. His knuckles were white against the hilt of his sword, Bloodvein, its blade still humming faintly with the echo of battle.
The hunt had been victorious on paper.
But victory in the Yin Order never came without ghosts.
Master Gwan's voice cut through the wind. "You hesitate again, Jaewon. A hunter who looks back forgets what's in front of him."
Jaewon turned, jaw tight. "We lost twelve disciples last night. The vampires weren't supposed to be that strong."
"They weren't," Gwan said, stepping closer, his eyes like carved stone. "They were organized. Someone taught them how to fight like us."
The old master looked out over the burned valley, his cloak snapping in the wind. "The Night is changing."
Jaewon didn't answer. He felt it too the air itself seemed heavier, tainted. His Qi pulsed unevenly under his skin, that faint crimson shimmer returning. He pressed a hand against his chest.
Gwan's gaze caught the motion. "Still fighting the blood?"
"It reacts whenever I kill one of them," Jaewon admitted. "Like it's… feeding."
"Then starve it," Gwan said sharply. "A Yin Hunter survives by discipline. Lose control once, and you'll never return."
The words struck like a blade. Jaewon bowed silently.
The Yin Order's headquarters lay hidden within the Valley of Veins, a labyrinth of caverns carved into black stone, pulsing faintly with crimson light. The walls themselves were alive etched with talismanic seals that fed off the moon's reflection in the underground river.
Here, beneath Murim's surface, generations of hunters had trained to fight what lurked beyond mortal sight.
Jaewon walked the winding corridors, feeling the weight of eyes watching from behind every shadow. The disciples here whispered about him — the Half-Moon Hunter, the one whose Qi glowed red.
When he entered the main hall, hundreds of candles flickered in unison, casting the faces of the hunters in alternating gold and black. At the center stood the Elder Council, robed figures whose presence bent the air itself.
The eldest among them, Elder Sun-Jin, rose. His beard was white, his eyes sharper than any sword.
"Han Jaewon," he intoned, "step forward."
Jaewon obeyed, the echo of his boots filling the silent chamber.
"You stand accused," Sun-Jin continued, "of wielding corrupted Qi and yet, you are also the reason half your sect still breathes. Explain yourself."
Jaewon looked up, meeting the Elder's gaze. "I don't know what I am, Elder. But I know what I fight for. I didn't choose this blood. I only choose what I do with it."
A murmur rippled through the hall.
Another elder scoffed. "Bold words for one tainted by the night."
Sun-Jin raised a hand for silence. "Boldness is not sin, Elder Ho. Fear is."
He descended the dais, approaching Jaewon slowly. "Your Master claims you carry the blood of a great enemy. Is that true?"
Jaewon hesitated. "Yes."
"And yet you stand here, blade unbroken."
The Elder studied him for a long moment, then gestured to an attendant. "Bring the Oath Chalice."
From the shadows, a disciple stepped forward carrying an obsidian bowl carved with runes. Inside it shimmered a mixture of silver and black liquid the Hunter's Elixir, used to seal one's bond with the Yin Order.
Sun-Jin lifted it. "You wish to remain one of us? Then swear the Hunter's Oath and let this elixir decide if you are hunter or prey."
The hall fell into a tense silence. Even Master Gwan's face betrayed concern. The Elixir judged not by words, but by essence. Those with impure souls burned from within.
Jaewon stepped forward. His heart hammered. He took the bowl, its surface cold as moonlight.
He bowed once to the Elders, to his master, to the fallen. Then he spoke:
"I swear, by my blood and by the moon, to hunt the night until my last breath.
I swear to never draw blade for hunger, greed, or power only for balance.
I swear to bind my darkness, so that no creature of shadow will ever claim me."
He raised the chalice and drank.
The moment the liquid touched his tongue, fire tore through his veins. His vision blurred; he felt the blood in his body revolt, colliding with the purity of the oath. Crimson and silver Qi clashed inside him, roaring like storms.
He fell to his knees, gasping, his hands shaking violently. Light flared from his chest half white, half red spiraling into the air.
The disciples drew back. Some cried out. Others whispered, "He's dying!"
But then… the light settled.
Jaewon rose, trembling but alive. The chalice shattered to dust at his feet.
Elder Sun-Jin's eyes widened. "Impossible."
Master Gwan smiled faintly. "No, Elder. It means he's both hunter and hunted the first of a new path."
Sun-Jin studied Jaewon for a long moment before nodding. "Then let the record show: Han Jaewon is henceforth a full disciple of the Blood Lotus Sect. His blood is cursed, but his will is pure."
The hall erupted in murmurs.
Jaewon exhaled shakily, the world coming back into focus. For a fleeting second, he thought he saw a shadow a pale figure with golden eyes watching from the far wall. But when he blinked, it was gone.
That night, Jaewon stood beneath the cavern's open ceiling, staring at the faint sliver of moon visible through the mist. Sumi approached quietly, her talismans jingling softly.
"Word spreads fast," she said. "They're calling you the Yin-Blood Hunter now."
Jaewon chuckled without humor. "Another name to fear."
"Maybe," she said, smiling faintly. "Or maybe to follow."
He looked at her. "You're not afraid of me?"
"I've fought beside you. You bleed the same red as the rest of us," she said, then paused. "But… your blood sings louder."
He didn't know if that was a comfort or a warning.
From the shadows, Master Gwan approached, hands folded behind his back. "Jaewon," he said, voice low. "Your first true hunt begins tomorrow."
Jaewon straightened. "The target?"
Gwan's gaze hardened. "A vampire lord has reappeared in the southern provinces an ancient one, named Varos."
The name hit like thunder.
Jaewon's breath caught. "Varos?"
"Yes," Gwan said. "The one responsible for the Night Feast at Haeryun Village."
For a heartbeat, the world went silent.
Jaewon's hand clenched around his sword. The red in his Qi flared like fire.
"I'll kill him," he whispered.
Gwan's voice darkened. "You'll try. But remember, boy vengeance without control will turn you into him."
Jaewon nodded, eyes burning under the moonlight. "Then I'll learn control."
Gwan placed a hand on his shoulder. "Good. Because Varos isn't just another vampire."
He turned toward the darkness. "He's the first the progenitor of all bloodlines. And if he calls your name in battle, it means he remembers you."
Jaewon's pulse thundered in his ears.
Remembers me…
The whisper from that night years ago echoed again, faint and cruel:
"Little hunter… the blood already knows your name."
As dawn crept over the valley, the Yin Hunters assembled black cloaks rippling, blades sealed in moonlight. Jaewon stood at the front, Bloodvein strapped to his back, his mark faintly glowing through his robes.
He looked at the horizon where the sun met the mist, where vampires burned and hunters bled, where vengeance and duty blurred into one.
"This time," he murmured, "the night will feast on its own."