The evening sun cast long shadows over the valley, painting the mountains in crimson and gold. Han Jae-min sat by a quiet stream, sharpening his twin katanas, letting the last traces of his spar with Kwon Jae-hyun settle in his mind. Twin Fang had improved, and his Qi was more stable—but he knew the road ahead would demand more than skill alone.
From the treeline, a soft rustle broke the silence. Han Jae-min's golden eyes narrowed, blades already in hand.
"I mean no harm," said a young figure stepping forward. Her hair was tied back, dark and unassuming, yet her aura carried the faint pulse of Qi—a sign of hidden potential.
"I am Seo Yura," she said, bowing respectfully. "I've heard of your fight with the Iron Viper Sect and the duel with Kwon Jae-hyun. Your Twin Fang… it's unlike anything I've seen. I wish to follow you, learn from you, and fight alongside you."
Han Jae-min studied her carefully. In Murim, potential was important, but loyalty and understanding were equally crucial. One poorly chosen disciple could ruin a rising swordsman's reputation.
"You understand what it means to follow someone in Murim?" he asked. "It's not just training—it's trust, strategy, and survival. Many rivals, prodigies, and sects will watch us. Some will test us… and some will try to kill us."
Seo Yura nodded. "I understand. I've trained since I could walk. I've seen the harshness of Murim. But I believe in learning from the best. I believe in your path, Han Jae-min."
For a long moment, Jae-min remained silent. Then he sheathed his swords. "Very well. You will train beside Eon-hwa and me. But remember this: in Murim, every fight is a lesson. Every ally is a potential shield—or a liability. Never underestimate the world."
As they began training together, far across the mountains, other sects noticed the stirrings of a rising swordsman. Word of Han Jae-min's Twin Fang technique spread, carried by whispers from wandering swordsmen and minor factions.
The Murim hierarchy observed carefully:
Swordsmen: Skilled fighters with basic Qi control.
Prodigies: Young warriors with exceptional talent, like Kwon Jae-hyun.
Elite: Masters who lead sections of their sects, feared and respected.
Supreme Masters: Hidden dragons of Murim, whose presence alone could reshape alliances.
Even Supreme Masters had taken note of this purple-haired swordsman with golden eyes. Few in Murim were born with such a combination of skill, technique, and ambition.
The first seeds of the Golden Fang Sect were planted—not yet a faction, but a small circle of potential disciples, a nucleus around which power, strategy, and reputation could grow.
Han Jae-min gazed at the mountains, the wind tugging at his purple hair. One day, he would stand among the Supreme Masters. One day, his name would command respect across Murim. But first, he would need to train harder, fight smarter, and gather allies who could survive by his side.
Murim was alive, dangerous, and unpredictable. And he would rise within it, one battle, one disciple, and one duel at a time.