The morning sun had barely pierced the mist when Han Jae-min returned to a secluded grove to tend his shallow wounds. The shallow cut on his arm throbbed, a reminder that even his Twin Fang technique had limits.
As he cleaned the blood and applied herbal salve, he allowed himself a moment of reflection. The three disciples from the Black Crescent Sect had been skilled, coordinated, and disciplined. They were nothing compared to the Supreme Masters rumored to dwell in the far mountains—but in Murim, even small battles could teach lessons that books never could.
A sudden rustle in the grove made him tense. He drew both katanas, positioning them instinctively. From behind a cluster of bamboo emerged a young man, no older than Jae-min, with a sword strapped to his back and a calm, observant gaze. His Qi radiated subtly, disciplined but restrained.
"Not here to fight," the youth said, bowing slightly. "I've been following you. You fought the Black Crescent disciples… quite impressive for one man."
Jae-min lowered his blades slightly, studying him. "Why are you following me?"
"I seek guidance," the youth said plainly. "I'm Eon-hwa, from the Azure Lotus Sect. My clan trains swordsmen, but my path has diverged. I've heard of your technique—Twin Fang—and I wish to learn."
Han Jae-min studied him carefully. In Murim, allies were rare; loyalty rarer still. Yet Eon-hwa's aura and precise stance betrayed genuine talent. Perhaps this could be the start of something… a small spark of alliance, the first step toward building a faction of skilled warriors.
As they spoke, the distant valley erupted in flashes of Qi and the clash of blades. Another minor skirmish between wandering swordsmen and rogue sects had begun. Murim never truly slept; even in isolation, the world pulsed with battles, rivalries, and ambitions.
"Look there," Jae-min said, pointing to the distant figures. "The Black Crescent Sect isn't the only one moving. The Crimson Wolves are testing the borders of smaller sects again. We can't ignore it forever."
Eon-hwa's eyes widened, but he nodded. "Then we train, together. And when the time comes, we strike as one."
A quiet determination settled over Jae-min. This was the start of his journey—not just to master Twin Fang, but to gather allies, build a reputation, and carve his own place in Murim. Today, he was a lone swordsman; tomorrow, he would be the center of a rising faction.
The mountains seemed to watch, silent witnesses to the beginning of a story that would ripple through Murim for years to come.