The night was thick with storm and shadow. Rain lashed the mountain path as Hei Wushang stepped out of the ancient cave. The Asura Sword, wrapped in black cloth, hung at his side — heavy not with steel, but with destiny.

The mark of the Asura pulsed beneath his skin. Two horns. Phantom wings. A demon waiting to awaken.

His breath misted in the cold night. His steps were silent.

And in the storm, they came.

A whisper on the wind — sharp, eager, hateful:

> “End him... before he rises...”

The first assassin lunged, dagger flashing for Wushang’s throat.

Steel hissed through rain. Wushang’s blade cut the man’s wrist clean. Blood sprayed.

> “Aaaahhh—!”

A scream of terror, choked off as the Asura Sword pierced his heart in one cold thrust.

Wushang’s gaze hardened.

> “Second Rank at most. Coward’s attack. Which brother sent you? Liang? Yanzhuo?”

Another whisper:

> “Together! Kill him now!”

Two more shadows charged from the storm, blades low, swift as wolves.

Their blades met his. Sparks flew. Rain turned red.

One’s belly split wide. His scream tore through the storm:

> “No—no, spare—!”

His voice drowned in blood.

The other tried to run. The Asura Sword found his back. A sickening crack as his spine broke.

> “Mercy—!”

Silence answered.

Wushang stood still, breath slow, gaze cold. The rain washed blood from his blade, but could not cleanse the night.

> “Three dead. Weaklings. A warning? A test? Or is this all they dare send against me?”

A fourth came. Taller, his stance sharp, his eyes hard.

No whispers now. Just death in his gaze.

> “First Rank Warrior... this one means to kill.”

They circled. The storm howled.

The assassin struck — sharp, clean, deadly.

Steel clashed. Wushang’s eyes burned with silent rage.

> “I was the fool once. I bled for their scorn. Never again.”

Their blades rang, again and again. Wushang saw the flaw. The heartbeat of hesitation.

He feinted low. Drove the Asura Sword up, into the man’s chest.

> “No... no...!”

The assassin’s final breath faded as he fell.

The storm fell silent. The dead lay at Wushang’s feet.

But the Asura Sword glowed darkly. Wushang’s hand trembled — then steadied.

He knelt, pressing the blade’s edge to the blood pooling around the bodies. The sword drank deep.

Dark energy surged through him — cold, fierce, pure. His veins burned with demonic power. His wound stopped bleeding, strength flooding back.

> “Their blood... their strength... mine.”

A faint smile crossed his lips.

> “Send more. I will drown this world in their blood. The Asura walks tonight.”

The rain fell harder, but could not hide him.

Hei Wushang stepped into the storm, the silent shadow of death.