Night settled over Gwanju Academy like a velvet curtain, soft but heavy, charged with a silence too perfect to be real. Hana felt it long before Woojin did—an itch under her skin, the same instinct that once kept her alive in forests full of blades and men hungry for blood.
Something was coming.
Something powerful.
Something meant for her.
Woojin walked beside her, carrying a small stack of scrolls, unaware of the storm coiling in the air. They were returning from the restricted archives, where Hana had secretly copied the map of the hidden fortress—a map she never should have seen.
If the Sect realized it was missing…
They're already here.
A cold breath crawled down her spine.
"Woojin," she said softly. "Hold the scrolls tightly. We may need to run."
He paused mid-step, turning to her slowly. "You feel it again, don't you?"
She didn't answer. She simply lifted her gaze to the rooftops.
The wind stilled.
Then—
A dark figure dropped from the sky like a thrown spear.
Hana reacted before thought. She shoved Woojin back, slammed into him, and rolled them both to the ground just as a blade sliced through the air where her neck had been.
The figure landed silently on the stone path.
Black clothing. Mask. Dual blades. No hesitation.
A hunter.
No—worse.
A Blood Talon.
An elite from the Shadow Sect.
Only those trained from birth could move like that.
Woojin scrambled back, eyes wide. "Hana—"
"Don't speak," she hissed, sliding into a defensive stance.
The assassin tilted his head. "So the rabbit crawled into a scholar's burrow. How adorable."
His voice was distorted by a thin metal sheet inside the mask. The Sect loved theatrics.
Hana's heart thundered, but her hands were steady—too steady.
"I was expecting the Sect to send someone," she said. "Didn't think they'd send one of the Talons."
"You stole something precious," he replied calmly. "The penalty is death."
Woojin stood behind her, trembling but refusing to run. "If you want Hana, you must go through me."
The assassin ignored him completely.
Then he lunged.
He moved with the speed of a shadow, blades singing as they cut through the air.
Hana blocked the first strike with her bare forearm, pain exploding up to her shoulder, but she pivoted, grabbed his wrist, and hurled him into a stone lantern.
The lantern shattered.
He landed on his feet.
"Still sharp," he said. "Even after your little vacation."
Woojin's hands shook. "Hana—get behind me—"
"No," she said.
But he had already stepped forward.
Woojin threw a handful of powdered chalk—stolen earlier from the archives—straight into the assassin's eyes.
A clever trick.
The assassin flinched, momentarily blinded. Hana surged forward, her foot slamming into his ribs, sending him skidding across the path.
"You two make a charming pair," the assassin snarled, wiping his eyes. "Shame the Sect ordered me to kill you both."
He flickered.
Then disappeared.
"No—" Hana gasped. It was a technique she had only seen once. "Woojin, DOWN!"
The assassin reappeared behind Woojin, blade arcing toward his throat.
Hana's body moved on instinct, faster than thought.
She grabbed Woojin by the waist, spun him out of the blade's path, and kicked upward, knocking the assassin's weapon from his hand.
The blade flew into the air—
Hana caught it—
And pointed it back at him.
The assassin paused. "You're improving. Love has made you desperate."
Hana's grip tightened. "Love is not my weakness."
"No?" he hissed. "Then why protect him? The Sect will kill him first, just to remind you of who owns your life."
Woojin's breath hitched.
Hana's eyes darkened.
"I don't belong to the Sect," she said.
"You always will."
He lunged again.
This time, Hana didn't retreat. She met him head-on.
Steel clashed against steel in a blur of movements too fast for Woojin to follow. Sparks lit the night like fireflies as their blades danced, each strike designed to kill, each dodge razor-thin.
Hana fought like she was carved from lightning.
The assassin fought like a storm with a name.
A slash cut across Hana's side. Blood warmed her robes.
Woojin cried out.
"Hana!"
She staggered, dropping to one knee.
The assassin grinned behind the mask. "End of the road."
Woojin charged forward.
"No!" she screamed.
The assassin backhanded him with ease. Woojin crashed into a tree and collapsed, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.
"WOOJIN!"
The assassin lifted his blade toward Hana's throat. "Time to come home."
And then—
A thunderous voice shattered the night.
"ENOUGH!"
Headmaster Seong stood atop the walkway, staff glowing with blinding light.
The assassin recoiled. "A spiritual cultivator? Here?"
Seong slammed the base of his staff onto the ground. The air rippled like a drumbeat. A shockwave exploded outward, sending the assassin flying across the courtyard.
Hana shielded Woojin with her body as the world trembled.
The assassin crashed into a wall, cracking the tiles.
Seong descended the steps, robes flowing. His gaze was cold as winter snow.
"You dare bring bloodshed into my academy?"
The assassin staggered to his feet, clearly shaken. "This is Sect business. Stay out of it, old man."
"Not when it threatens my students."
Light surged from Seong's staff again.
The assassin hissed. He touched the metal plate on his mask; a faint glow activated a teleport charm.
Coward. Hana knew that move well.
"I'll be back," he growled. "The rabbit won't be protected forever."
He flickered—
Then vanished completely.
Silence crashed over the courtyard.
Hana collapsed beside Woojin, blood still dripping down her side.
"Hana…" Woojin whispered weakly, reaching for her hand. "You're hurt."
"You're hurt worse," she breathed, brushing his hair back with trembling fingers.
Seong reached them, kneeling. "Both of you, stay still."
He placed two fingers on Woojin's forehead, channeling healing qi into him until the bruising on his ribs faded. Woojin's breathing eased.
Then Seong turned to Hana.
His eyes softened.
"You are not who you claim to be."
Hana's chest tightened. "Headmaster—"
"No," he whispered. "You've been carrying this alone for far too long."
A quiet breeze swept through, rustling the leaves.
Seong sighed deeply. "An assassin of the Shadow Sect… hiding under my roof. Tell me, child… are they coming for you alone, or for something greater?"
Hana lowered her gaze.
"For me," she said softly. "But if they discover Woojin helped me—they'll kill him too."
Woojin squeezed her hand, voice shaking. "I would never abandon you."
Seong nodded slowly. "Then the Sect has already made this a war. And I cannot allow my academy to become their battleground."
He stood.
"Hana. Woojin. Come with me. Starting tonight, your world will change."
Hana exchanged a glance with Woojin—fear, pain, and something deeper reflected in his eyes.
A truth they could no longer hide.
A future they could no longer outrun.
As the three walked toward the inner courtyard, Hana felt the wound on her side throb.
But the deeper wound—the fear of losing Woojin—burned even more.
Tonight was just the beginning.
The Sect now knew exactly where she was.
And they would not stop.
Not until she was dead.
Or until she finally stopped running.
Hana tightened her grip on Woojin's hand.
She was done running