The night wind whispered through the outer courtyards of the Tang Sect compound, rustling banners and flapping gently through the trees like warning sighs. Jiho and Sohee moved swiftly, hearts pounding in sync as they darted from shadow to shadow. Jiho led with fierce determination, his eyes scanning ahead while his mind raced.
There would be no better time than now.
By dawn, someone would discover the corpse of the thief. And worse—realize that the secret manual he'd died for was missing.
The Tang Sect would erupt in chaos. Security would tighten. Passageways would be locked down, guards doubled, and every suspicious movement scrutinized.
Escape after that? Impossible.
Jiho glanced at Sohee beside him. She was keeping up, her breathing steady, but her eyes—her eyes were conflicted, stormy.
Halfway through a narrow back corridor leading to the outer walls, Sohee suddenly stopped.
"Wait," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Jiho, we can't just… leave them."
He turned, his pulse quickening. "Sohee—"
"Raka, Min, Gaon… they're still back there. If what you said is true, they'll be killed. We can't just walk away from that."
Jiho clenched his fists. He had known this would come—he understood.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You think I don't care about them? You think this is easy for me?"
She looked at him, pain in her eyes. "Then why—"
"Because we can't save them right now," he cut in, voice trembling with emotion. "That's the truth. The hard, bitter truth."
Sohee's gaze dropped.
Jiho exhaled, more quietly. "You and I… we're the only ones strong enough to try. The others—Min can barely walk. Gaon coughs blood every morning. Raka's angry, but it won't help him outpace a dozen guards."
He hesitated, swallowing. "If we all try to run, we'll all get caught. No one makes it out."
Silence stretched between them, broken only by distant footsteps and creaking wood.
Jiho's voice softened. "It doesn't mean we're abandoning them forever. If we get out—if we survive—we'll find a way to come back. To expose the truth. To help."
He looked at her, eyes pleading now. "But we have to live first."
Sohee's lips trembled. She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve, then finally nodded.
"…Okay," she whispered. "Okay. Let's go."
Jiho gently took her hand, and they pressed onward—through the hidden cracks in the walls, the unpatrolled paths near the servant quarters, toward the edge of the outer compound where freedom might still be possible.
With every step, Jiho's resolve hardened like tempered steel.
He would get them out.He would master the stolen manual.And one day, he would return—not just to survive, but to fight back.
For Sohee.For the others.For everyone who'd been treated as less than human.
Footsteps echoed—heavy and precise.
Jiho froze. He pulled Sohee behind a support column, pressing a finger to her lips. The narrow corridor dimly lit by lanterns stretched into shadow.
But it was too late.
"Who's there?!" a voice barked, followed by the clink of a scabbard.
A guard rounded the corner, eyes narrowing the moment he spotted Jiho.
"You—!"
Jiho had no choice. He stepped out, fists raised. The guard didn't hesitate either—he drew his blade and charged.
Jiho ducked the first slash, his body reacting on instinct. A second swing came low, fast and sharp—Jiho blocked it with his forearm and hissed. Pain exploded up his arm. He'd misjudged the angle—his hardened body wasn't invincible.
The man wasn't a simple patrolman. His movements were precise, practiced—this was a fighter.
Jiho barely avoided the next blow, rolling under the arc of the sword and countering with a sharp jab to the ribs. The man grunted, stepped back, and slashed again. Steel scraped the stone pillar as Jiho dodged by inches.
His breath came ragged.
This wasn't like being tortured. This wasn't like surviving poison. This was fighting—real, dangerous, and fast.
He stepped in again, swinging a venom-enhanced punch to the man's gut. The guard took it, staggered—but didn't fall. He countered with an elbow that clipped Jiho's jaw, making stars flash in his vision.
Jiho's legs faltered. The world tilted.
Then—focus. He grit his teeth and launched upward, slamming his knee into the guard's stomach.
Thud!
The guard gasped—this time, louder—and Jiho didn't give him a second chance. He twisted behind him, wrapped an arm around his throat, and locked it in.
The man struggled, slammed Jiho against the wall once—twice—but the venom in Jiho's body was already seeping into his bloodstream.
Moments later, the man went limp.
Jiho let him fall, panting hard, his hands trembling with adrenaline.
Sohee peeked out from her hiding spot, worry etched across her pale face.
"You're bleeding."
"I'll live," Jiho muttered, wiping blood from his mouth. He crouched in front of her. "Come on. Get on."
Sohee's legs wobbled as she tried to move. She looked like she'd collapse any second.
"I can walk—"
"You're not walking. Get on."
With no time to argue, he hoisted her onto his back, supporting her weight easily. She was light. Too light.
They moved fast, Jiho ignoring the throbbing in his arm and the sting in his jaw. The pain could wait.
Ahead, the towering gates of the Tang Sect came into view, flanked by two guards leaning on spears, half-bored and half-alert.
Jiho scanned quickly—and saw what he needed.
A nearby pavilion stood empty, its windows shuttered and doors slightly ajar. A torch for lighting hung on the wall beside it.
Jiho lowered Sohee behind a stone planter and crept toward the flame, yanking it free. With a quick twist of his wrist, he hurled the burning torch through the window of the pavilion.
Seconds later, smoke began to rise. Fire caught the edges of silk banners, then curtains.
"Fire!" one of the guards shouted. "The pavilion's burning!"
They ran toward it.
Perfect.
Jiho sprinted to the gate, set Sohee down again, and planted his hands on the massive doors.
They didn't move at first.
He clenched his jaw, drew every ounce of strength from his venom-hardened body, and pushed again.
The hinges groaned—then moved.
If not for what his body had become, he would've failed.
The door opened just enough.
He ran back, lifted Sohee onto his back once more, and slipped through the gap, disappearing into the night beyond.
Behind them, smoke billowed. Voices shouted. Chaos bloomed.
But Jiho and Sohee were already gone—running toward an unknown future with nothing but each other, a stolen secret, and the hope that freedom was still possible.