Having passed grueling trials and proven their skill in single combat, Kei and Vincent were formally accepted into the elite Blood Rose division. A brief, solemn ceremony marked the occasion, after which they were led through the winding stone halls of Zheng Fort—a vast citadel humming with the presence of the empire's finest warriors.
In the fortress's main hall, they were presented to the leaders of the other divisions, each one a figure of renown. Kang Tae-jun of the Iron Lotus stood like a fixed mountain, his enormous greatsword always within reach. Beside him was Baek Seo-ah of the Silent Willow, an elderly staff-master whose eyes seemed to carry decades of wisdom. Misharama Kyohiro of the White Tigers watched them with a steady, searching gaze, one hand resting on his curved sword. Lai Zhin Te of the Shadow Falls hung back at the edges of the room, moving so quietly she nearly vanished into the shadows. And Han Zhangli of the Scorching Dragon rounded out the group—broad-shouldered, red-maned, and quick to fill the hall with booming laughter.
Among them, Baek Seo-ah and Han Zhangli seemed to take a particular interest in the two new members, studying them with a curiosity that felt like more than simple courtesy.
Seo-ah approached first, his voice worn with age and old battles. "There's something familiar about you, boy. I've been searching my memory, but I can't place where we might have met." His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Vincent, as if trying to see through the years.
Han Zhangli rubbed his jaw, brow furrowed. "Come to think of it... I feel it too." He looked to Vincent. "Have you set foot in this empire before now? Princess Yejin told me you both come from Gammora—is that so?"
A knot of unease tightened in Kei's chest. "So Yejin's still keeping up that story," he thought. "She's shielding us, burying where we really came from. But why—and how long can it possibly hold?"
Vincent, never one to hesitate, stepped forward with a relaxed grin. "That's right! Gammora, born and raised. We've spent years fighting off demons near the Gates of Abaddon—nasty work. You get used to the stink of sulfur eventually, though." He gave an easy laugh, the lie sliding out smooth as truth.
Han Zhangli's face shifted, sympathy mixing with grim respect. "Those cursed creatures. I've heard the gates have only gotten worse—more breaches, stronger incursions each season. It's a wonder your people have held the line this long." He crossed his arms and nodded. "We're fortunate our own empire still has the strength to seal such rifts when they threaten us. Our practitioners have kept that darkness at bay for generations."
Kei said nothing, keeping his face carefully still, though his mind was far from calm. He could feel Seo-ah's gaze lingering on them, sharper and more probing than any blade. "We can't afford to get comfortable," he told himself, certain that the old man somehow sensed the truth of what had happened years ago in the Kingdom of Westex—and how Vincent alone had brought it to ruin.
Later, Yejin brought them to the private quarters where the rest of the Blood Rose had gathered. Kei and Vincent quickly became the talk of the division. Several of the female members—many of whom had once harbored quiet feelings for Yul—now found their attention drawn instead to the two newcomers' striking looks.
Eventually, Yejin led them to the library of Zheng Fort, its walls lined with paintings depicting the empire's history. Among them, one piece stood far above the rest in grandeur: the image of the Goddess Amaterasu sealing the ancient demons beneath Mount Iona.
Yejin began to recount the tale. "My father used to tell my brother and me the story of the goddess we all worship. They say Amaterasu descended to this world as a falling star. Our ancestors welcomed her as an honored guest, never imagining the miracles she'd soon bring. When drought struck, she summoned the rains. When storms raged, she calmed the skies. And when the harvest season came, she doubled the yield for every household. People said the land felt safe while she walked among us. I've always wondered why she left, and where she might be now." She paused, gazing at the mural. "Before the empire was unified, countless lives were lost fighting over control of Mount Iona. The stories say Amaterasu tore hills and mountains from the earth with nothing but her will and cast them down upon the demons, sealing them there forever."
"I've heard those stories as well, Princess," Vincent said. "Including the ones about the three kingdoms that warred over the mountain's authority."
"That's right," Yejin replied. "My family once ruled the kingdom of Sunshin. Alongside us stood Honglung and Nohin. Before unification, we spilled each other's blood fighting over land we each wanted to call home."
As they continued through the gallery, they came upon a painting depicting a lone man standing triumphant over a fallen warlock, a skull-topped staff discarded at his feet.
"Who is this?" Kei asked.
"Ah, sharp eyes, Kei. That's Grandmaster Yoo Lingshu, and the figure beneath him is the Grim Warlock, Khael." Yejin's tone grew more solemn. "Over twenty years ago, Khael placed a curse on every woman across the empire. My own mother was among the thousand afflicted—she survived, fortunately. But the Empress wasn't as lucky. She succumbed to the curse shortly after giving birth to the Crown Princess, Akira."
At the mention of the Empress' fate, Yul's expression darkened, his brow drawing into a frown. But Kei and Vincent kept their expressions neutral, careful not to let on that they had noticed.
They moved deeper into the library as Yejin continued, this time explaining the code that every Hwa-samurai lived by. "The empire was unified for one purpose: to protect the people of Iona and preserve what makes us who we are. With the threat from the South growing every year, the fear of invasion never really leaves us. That's why the empire was built, and why we raised one of the strongest armies in the world—the Hwa-samurai of Sunhonghin Imperial Kingdom." She held up a hand, counting off five fingers as she spoke. "We stand on five pillars, the Hwa-Samurai Code: Honor, Truth, Discipline, Courage, and Wisdom. Honor means carrying the nation's identity and the values it stands for in everything you do. Truth means striving for honesty in your words and your actions, always. Discipline means honoring the blood and sweat the empire has poured into you, in all that you pursue. Courage means standing firm and meeting your enemies' eyes, even when they come at you without end. And Wisdom means never closing yourself off to learning, for as long as you live as one of us." She looked between them. "You may be mercenaries from a distant land, but you still fight under our banner now. That means these values are yours to uphold as well."
Vincent and Kei nodded in agreement.
After the lengthy history lecture from Yejin, which had painted a vivid picture of the empire's turbulent past and the ever-present threats lurking beyond its borders, Kei and Vincent finally retreated to their private quarters within Zheng Fort. The stone walls were cold and austere, but the beds were surprisingly comfortable, and exhaustion claimed them both within moments of their heads hitting the pillows. They spent the night in deep, dreamless rest, their bodies recovering from the day's trials.
When morning light crept through the narrow windows, casting pale golden streaks across the floor, a sudden commotion shattered the quiet. Urgent footsteps echoed through the corridors, followed by the sharp bark of messengers relaying news. Within the hour, the division leaders and their key members had gathered in the war room, where a scout delivered the grim report: multiple enemy warships had been sighted, their dark sails cutting across the horizon, heading directly toward Hokaishin—a small but strategically vital village nestled at the southwestern edge of Lingwen Fortress's domain.
Yejin's brow furrowed deeply as she processed the intelligence. "The SAT is invading again? They just attempted an invasion of Kyungsuk three days ago," she said, her voice carrying a note of incredulity mixed with frustration.
Han Zhangli let out a gruff laugh, his scarred hands resting on the table. "I agree wholeheartedly—those monkeys from the south never seem to learn from their failures. They keep throwing themselves against our walls like waves against a cliff." He straightened his broad shoulders. "Nevertheless, we'll be heading to Hokaishin to meet them head-on. You may return to Goryeong Fortress if you wish, my Lady."
Yejin shook her head firmly. "Thank you for the consideration, but I need not rest. I will be heading to Kyungsuk instead, to have my members patrol the coastal areas and ensure no surprise landings slip past our defenses. Please be careful on your battle, Seon-Gak Zhangli." She offered a humble bow, her respect for the veteran leader evident in every graceful motion.
With their paths set, the group dispersed. Yejin rallied her Blood Rose members and set course for the coastal town of Kyungsuk, while Han Zhangli, Kang Tae-jun, and the other division leaders marched toward Hokaishin, their boots pounding against the earth in grim unison, ready to meet the impending invasion.
As they rode along the winding coastal roads, the rhythmic clatter of hooves against packed earth accompanied the salty breeze that whipped through their hair and tugged at their cloaks. Vincent adjusted his grip on the reins, his horse snorting beneath him, before he broke the contemplative silence. "Are the Southern armies really that strong?" he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and caution.
Yejin's expression grew somber, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon where the sea met the sky in a hazy line. Her horse maintained a steady pace beside Vincent's, its dark mane flowing in the wind. "They are. The South Alliance Treaty—or SAT, as we call them—is an alliance forged by four sovereign nations: Warmuth, Ladros, Mabia, and Nareth. For decades, they have been pooling their resources, their technologies, and their most fearsome warriors into a single, unified war machine." She paused, letting the weight of her words settle as her horse let out a low whicker. "Their ambition is absolute: total conquest of the known world."
Tsuyu, riding beside them with her hand resting casually on the hilt of her blade, nodded grimly. Her horse moved with an easy, practiced gait, matching the rhythm of the group. "I know you guys are incredibly strong, but you still need to be wary of their commanders. They aren't just generals—they're monsters in human form. Each one of them has carved a path of devastation across battlefields that would make seasoned veterans weep."
Yejin's jaw tightened, her knuckles whitening slightly against the leather reins. "That is the truth. Even my brother, Eunjoo, would not be able to defeat the Warlord of the South so easily. His blade, the Ragnarok, is said to possess the power to cleave a mountain in half with a single swing." She let the image hang in the air, her voice dropping to a near whisper as the wind carried her words. "It is not mere legend. I have seen the scars it left upon the land with my own eyes."
Vincent's eyes widened, a low whistle escaping his lips as he shifted in his saddle. "Wow... that's truly monstrous! I thought I'd seen some terrifying weapons back home, but splitting a mountain? That's on a whole other level." He shook his head, a chuckle slipping out as he patted his horse's neck. "But honestly? Hearing about a beast like that just makes me want to fight him even more."
Kei remained silent, his glowing blue eyes scanning the coastline ahead, his body moving fluidly with the gentle sway of his horse. His mind was already calculating strategies and contingencies, weighing their strengths against the looming threat. The enemy was formidable—but so were they. And in the game of war, it was not always the strongest who won, but the cleverest.
In the middle of their journey, as the horses trotted along the dusty road with the forest looming to their left, a disheveled man burst out from the treeline, stumbling toward them with wild, desperate eyes. His clothes were torn, his face streaked with dirt and sweat, and he waved his arms frantically as he ran. The warhorses snorted and reared slightly, their hooves skidding to a halt as the riders reined them in.
"Help me, please! My daughter—she's been taken by a group of bandits!" the man cried out, his voice cracking with raw emotion. He collapsed to his knees before them, gasping for breath, his trembling hands reaching out in supplication.
Kei's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. His senses, honed by years of navigating deception and danger, prickled with quiet suspicion. He could feel the lie coiled beneath the man's words—a subtle discordance in his frantic tone, a flicker of something calculated behind his desperate mask. And yet, beneath the falsehood, Kei sensed a genuine core of intention. The man truly wanted them to follow him, though perhaps not for the reason he claimed. Kei chose to remain silent, his curiosity piqued. He wanted to see the truth unravel on its own.
Yejin dismounted her horse with practiced grace, her boots landing softly on the packed earth. She turned to Yul and Tsuyu, and she said, "You all must continue to Kyungsuk without delay. I will follow immediately after I resolve this matter."
Tsuyu's eyes widened with concern. "B-But... are you sure, my Lady? It could be dangerous to venture alone—"
"Don't waste any more time, Tsuyu. Now go!" Yejin's tone left no room for argument, sharp as a blade's edge.
Tsuyu hesitated for only a heartbeat before bowing her head. "As you command, my Lady." She spurred her horse forward, and the rest of the group fell in line behind her, hooves kicking up clouds of dust as they resumed their journey toward Kyungsuk.
But Kei did not move. He remained seated on his horse, his blue eyes fixed on the treeline ahead.
Vincent glanced back, confusion etched across his face. "Kei! What are you still doing there? Let's go!" he shouted from a distance.
Kei shook his head, his expression calm and resolute. "You go on ahead, Vincent! I will accompany the Princess."
Vincent opened his mouth as if to argue, then thought better of it. With a reluctant nod, he turned and urged his horse forward, catching up with the others until they were mere specks on the distant road.
Yejin turned to Kei, one eyebrow arched in mild surprise. "Didn't you hear my command, Kei?" she asked, though her voice carried more curiosity than reproach.
Kei dismounted smoothly, his feet landing silently beside her. "Like you said, Princess. There's no time to waste." A faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Besides, two sets of eyes are better than one."
The man, still trembling, gestured urgently toward the forest. "This way! Please, hurry—they could be hurting her right now!"
They leashed their horses to a sturdy tree by the roadside, knowing the dense undergrowth would make riding impossible. The forest swallowed them almost immediately as they followed the man deeper into its shadowy embrace. Even though it was still daytime, the thick canopy of leaves filtered the sunlight into dim, amber hues, casting long, dancing shadows that made it feel like late afternoon.
"How far still are we?" Yejin asked, her hand resting casually on her blade, her senses alert.
"We're near. Just a little further—let's hurry!" the man urged, quickening his pace.
Kei's eyes began to glow faintly, a subtle azure light flickering in his irises as he activated his ocular ability. The world around him shifted, layers of color bleeding into his vision like paint on water. He scanned the area methodically. Through his eyes, the forest transformed into a tapestry of living energy. Animals—squirrels, birds, and unseen creatures—gave off faint green auras, soft and pulsating like distant fireflies. The man before them glowed with a dull yellow hue, typical of an ordinary human. But as Kei extended his vision further into the depths, he noticed clusters of brighter yellow auras, perhaps a dozen of them, lying in wait among the trees.
And then his breath caught.
In the shadows beyond, barely visible through the veil of leaves, he spotted a figure wreathed in deep, unsettling purple aura, pulsing with an almost sickly light. Kei knew that the darker the shade, the more sinister their abilities. His expression remained neutral, but his mind raced. "So this is a trap after all. That aura... it could only mean two things: it's a dark practitioner or it's a demon in disguise of a man."
He cast a sidelong glance at Yejin, who walked beside him. She trusted the man—or at least, she was willing to see where this path led. Kei decided to play along, his hand drifting casually toward the hilt of his dagger, ready for whatever lurked ahead.
They rounded a bend and stepped into a clearing ringed by gnarled trees—the designated meeting point. But before the air could settle, the man spun toward Yejin, his face crumpling with sudden anguish. He dropped to one knee, voice cracking as he stammered, "Your Highness, forgive me—I have led you into this danger. Those who seized my daughter were never common brigands. They are—" His words choked off mid-sentence as a faint rustle whispered from the canopy above. In the same breath, dark figures dropped from the branches like falling stones, blades already bared, their intent clear: this was no rescue, but a trap sprung for all three of them.