A single droplet of water struck his cheek.

Cold. Sharp. Real.

Master Vince's eyes opened slowly, vision blurred by pain and exhaustion. The ceiling above was made of bark and branches woven together — a rough shelter, dimly lit by a flickering candle. The smell of herbs filled the air, thick with the scent of pine and smoke.

He tried to move his arm—

but there was nothing there.

His right arm ended just above the elbow, wrapped in fresh white bandages stained with faint red. A deep ache pulsed through the stump, spreading like fire through his veins.

Vince gritted his teeth. "...So... I lost it after all."

His voice was hoarse, but calm, the voice of a man who had already accepted death once and still refused to fall.

"You shouldn't be moving."

The voice came from the corner of the hut soft, firm, unmistakably feminine.

Vince turned his head.

There she stood — Mari.

A woman cloaked in faded green, her hair long and black as night, streaked with silver strands that caught the dim candlelight. Her eyes amber and sharp reflected the quiet strength of someone who had survived too many storms.

She was grinding herbs with a mortar, her movements steady and practiced.

"You've been unconscious for three days," Mari said, not looking up. "Found you bleeding by the river near Tashi's border. If I had been a minute later, you'd be with the spirits now."

Vince slowly leaned up, breathing hard. "...You saved me."

Mari nodded once. "Barely. Whoever did this to you wanted you dead."

Vince chuckled dryly, a trace of blood at the corner of his lip.

"...Heh. They nearly succeeded."

She walked over, her expression unreadable as she checked his wound. Her hands were cold, but her Shinrei faint and blue pulsed gently from her fingertips, weaving through the wound like silk threads.

"You're lucky, you know," she murmured. "The Void corruption didn't reach your core. If it had, not even the Lunar Sages could've saved you."

Vince looked down at his bandaged side. There were faint black marks along his ribs, the residue of Voidburn.

He smiled bitterly. "...So I was that close."

Mari's eyes flickered toward him. "You fought Voidborns, didn't you?"

Vince's gaze drifted toward the flame.

"Not just Voidborns."

Mari waited. Silence lingered, heavy and deliberate.

Finally, Vince whispered

"Twins. Alaric and Selene. They were strong... broken, but strong. Someone's using them forcing them into the dark."

Mari's expression darkened. "Then it's begun again."

Vince looked up. "...You know something?"

She hesitated. Then sighed. "There are whispers — travelers speak of the Hollow Nine moving again. They've been gathering fragments, ancient pieces of power."

"Fragments…" Vince muttered, eyes narrowing. "...Then they're after the Shards."

Mari looked at him sharply. "You have one, don't you?"

Vince didn't answer.

Instead, he slowly reached to his side his remaining hand trembling and pulled out a faintly glowing crystal from his pouch.

It pulsed with a deep crimson hue, the Shard of Flesh.

The energy radiating from it was alive, breathing.

Mari took a step back, eyes widening. "That thing… it's cursed. It's alive."

"...I know," Vince said softly. "And that's why I can't let them have it."

He coughed again, his voice strained but resolute.

"Even if I have to crawl, I'll bring it back to the Keiryuu… to Isen…"

Mari placed her hand on his shoulder firm, steady.

"Then rest first. You won't survive another battle in that state."

Vince looked at her for a moment studying her calm, unwavering eyes — then slowly nodded.

".. thank you."

She turned away, hiding the faint smile that tugged at her lips.

"Don't thank me yet. I don't save people for free."

Vince raised a brow, half-smiling despite the pain. "...What do you want then?"

Mari's amber eyes gleamed. "When you're healed… you're going to help me find someone."

Vince leaned back, curiosity flickering in his exhausted gaze.

"...Who?"

Mari looked toward the candlelight, her voice lowering to a whisper.

"My brother. He disappeared ten years ago... chasing something he called 'The Hollow Heart'."

The flame flickered violently as if reacting to the name.

Vince's eyes widened.

"The Hollow Heart...?"

For a moment, silence filled the room, just the faint hiss of burning wood. Then, the woman spoke again, her tone sharper this time.

"I'm Mari. My brother disappeared ten years ago… searching for something called the Hollow Heart."

"They say it can heal anything. Even the dying. Even the soul itself." She clenched her hands tightly around her knees. "My brother went after it… said he'd bring it back to cure our mother's illness. But he never returned."

The fire crackled louder, as if responding to the silence that followed.

Vince's expression softened. His memories drifted, he remembered the old texts, the forbidden relics that once tempted even the wisest of Taishin masters. The Hollow Heart… the relic of regeneration, but also of corruption.

He asked quietly, "What was your brother's name?"

Mari looked up. Her lips parted slowly, and her voice came out like a whisper carried by wind.

"Ryn. His name was Ryn."

The name echoed in Vince's mind like a curse.

Ryn.

The sound of it cracked something inside him, a memory he had buried beneath years of discipline and silence.

The moment he heard Mari say it, his heart froze. His breath came shallow, and before he could stop it, the past came flooding back.

Meanwhile The chamber smelled of old incense and something colder iron and ozone, like a storm being held in a jar.

K watched Ryn kneel, the orange hair haloed against the shard-light. The tactician's smile never reached those layered eyes; it was a predator's ease in a throne room of bones.

"The Wandering Fist." K said, slow and deliberate, pronouncing the name like an order and a question both.

Ryn lifted his head a fraction, porcelain mask catching the sigils' pulse. He bowed his head lower, every motion a practiced ritual of obedience.

"The wandering fist? he answered, voice smooth as silk drawn over steel. There was no bravado in it only a cold, pleasant certainty.

K's gaze sharpened. He folded his hands across his lap and leaned forward as if to whisper a secret to the room itself.

"If you want the Hollow Heart," he said, the words simple, the threat wrapped around them like smoke "you must bring me more than relics. Bring me the man who carried it.

Ryn's fingers flexed at his sides. For a flicker, something like recognition not of fear, but of calculation passed behind his mask. Then he nodded.

"Understood. Vince, alive, and the Shard of Flesh in hand." His voice was a promise and a blade.

K's smile widened, delighted now, the sound like a lock being turned. "Excellent. If you bring me the Hollow Heart, you will not be merely my blade. You will be the key."

Ryn's head tilted slightly, curiosity masked by duty. "And if I fail?"

The grin dropped off K's face like a curtain. The layered eyes went cold as winter sea.

"Then you will learn what it means to be an offering."

Ryn bowed his head again. The shards of light in the hall trembled, as if agreeing.

When K dismissed him, Ryn melted into shadow, already becoming less a person than the rumor he had been sent to carry.

To be continue

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