Origins of the Brotherhood 

— ➿ — 

The northern hills of Jinri were sharp-edged and wind-swept, their slopes littered with heavy stones. Pines clung stubbornly to the ridgelines, roots twisting through cracks in the rock, needles whispering secrets into the night. 

It was a wild and beautiful land — lush with green, bursting with wildflowers that seized every sliver of sunlight to bloom. The air was free and untamed, dancing through the tall grass and singing softly to the leaves. 

Among the jagged hillsides, the flicker of campfires burned — stubborn and enduring, like the trees themselves. 

In the shadowed forests where law seldom reached, a brotherhood of raiders known as Xuè Rèn — Blood Blade — made their camp. To the villages they plundered, they were merciless wolves, capable of bringing even the mightiest strongholds to their knees. Rival gangs unlucky enough to cross paths with the Beasts of Xuè Rèn rarely lived to see another day. 

They fought for no cause but their own. 
“My blood only spills for my brother.” 

That was their creed. 

To the world, they were monsters. 
To each other, they were family. 

But the famine gnawed at even their hardened spirits. There was no glory in raiding starving villages — only the bitter taste of ashes. They began to notice the light dimming in children’s eyes, the dignity draining from the elders. Their hearts, though built for war, were growing weary. 

Compassion in raiders is a rare thing — an oddity, even — but there is a difference between taking from the fat and taking from the starving. The raids became fewer, more hesitant. And though none of the brothers spoke of it, no one truly complained. 

Yet the Xuè Rèn fires still burned. Smoke rose in crooked ribbons that mingled with the starlight, carrying the sharp scents of pine pitch and steel. Meat was scarce — stretched thin among them — but still, the brothers found a way to let joy resound through the camp. 

This was Xuè Rèn.  

— ➿ — 

Next Episode — Chapter 11: His Fathers Pride

Beneath the northern pines, a foundling boy grows into something greater — a son not born of blood, but of fire, steel, and love.