Blood Pupil was a lesson carved into Yun Shi since childhood, like ink sunk into bone. In the main house, they drilled one creed: fail the secret art, lose footing in the Underworld. Under that cold teaching, she pushed like a lone reed in storm, yet effort stayed useless. By twelve, Blood Pupil still wouldn’t open.
The main house treated her harsher, and the branch house looked down like winter crows. She could only grit her teeth and endure, jaw set like stone.
No matter how she strained, the secret art stayed shut, doubt creeping like frost. Only when she lost her most important person did it crack; her scream tore like a storm. Blood Pupil awakened like a red moon over a ruined field.
Blood Pupil can’t be learned by drills alone; clean hands never feel its meaning. Only with someone else’s blood on your skin do you grasp life’s harvest. So Blood Pupil bears power beyond the common, born after the heart goes numb like winter stone.
Yun Shi had carried it for a year, wielding it like a blade hidden in sleeve. Today she saw she’d exposed a weak point, like showing her throat to wolves. If someone named it Blood Pupil, word would reach the Quadra Eye Family. Then her hard escape from the Clan Head would unravel like a frayed rope. Why think of this only now? She should’ve noticed early; regret fell like late frost. There was only one path left—kill everyone who knew, cut weeds before they seed.
Whoosh. Two afterimages crossed in midair like swallows, colliding with iron‑bright clangs. The clash rang out like steel in a canyon, echo stacked on echo.
Sham could only watch from the edge, her eyes chasing wind‑blur. She couldn’t keep up with speed at this scale; head‑on, she was fine. On pure speed, she had no way. “Little Yun...” Her heart beat like a drum; for now, she could only pray.
In that quick‑draw space, the two flared like twin meteors. They poured in every shred of power they could call.
The enemy’s right hand shot out; light bolts fanned toward her like silver rain. Yun Shi didn’t panic; the incoming storm met a calm lake. Her right hand knocked one aside; her left swept the next like a dancer. Hands traded places, and his attacks felt like scattered leaves.
“You’re pretty capable.” His voice was cold praise; then his face chilled like steel. He vanished, slid to her front, and drove a fist without a breath. His speed was a flawless blade; ordinary foes got flattened before a counter bloomed.
But Yun Shi wasn’t prey; under Blood Pupil, her reactions climbed like steps in rock. As his fist came in, its line lit clear in her vision, red‑sharp like a lens. She shifted, caught his fist with a palm, a move neat as a sparrow hop. He blinked, but his body answered fast; the other fist followed like a second wave. Yun Shi snagged it, quick hands snapping like reeds.
His leg flew in on perfect beat, a gust undercutting her stance. Yun Shi let go and slipped aside, but he slammed her down like a boulder. She tried to spring up, but he turned Mystic Power into light bolts and hurled them.
Thunderous boom. The earth roared like a beast, almost blasting her away. She stood, dust‑caked like a chimney, ready to grab the initiative. Before she moved, he spread a grid of light, a map‑wide barrage that swallowed space.
He blurred everywhere in her sight, speed sketching streaks like lightning. Each shift came with heavy light bolts spearing for Yun Shi. She met the rain, tired bones under a cold sky; there was no way to close in.
Boom. A blast ripped the ground beside her like a landmine. Yun Shi bit down and rolled; her last standing spot bloomed into fire. She planted her feet, and another blast thumped near her heels, shockwave flinging her like a leaf. She steadied midair, but before a heartbeat, a blast burst behind and threw her again.
“Cough, cough.” Grit scraped her throat like sand; she needed a way to flip the board. Stuck on the back foot, she kept eating losses like bitter tea.
Whoosh. Yun Shi ripped knives from her harness and whipped them at him, sight pinning like a hawk. Thunk. He was hard to tag; one tornado kick sent the blade skittering, wind scything. Yun Shi clenched her jaw, rage tasting like iron, yet helpless. Because she threw, he ramped his pace; light bolts and sudden lunges came like hail. “Die!” He appeared at arm’s reach; Yun Shi raised both forearms to guard and traded blows. Sparks flicked like flint; lucky she’d trained, or she’d be chewed like straw. He wasn’t a power type, yet fighting him like this was a losing wind. It wasn’t something to be proud of, only grit against gale.
“I thought someone with Blood Pupil would be a monster. Turns out, not much.” “You’re miles worse than Quadra Eye Yuuya.” “Tsk.” Yun Shi couldn’t deny it; next to Yuuya, she lagged like a shadow behind flame. Yuuya had deeper battle scars; Yun Shi had only alley scuffles, not real wars. Worst of all, she still couldn’t fully harness Blood Pupil; some corners ran thin like watered ink.
“What’s wrong? With power like that, you can’t beat me.” He saw her stuck on defense and swelled like a puffed rooster. His storm sped up, feet drumming like rain. How to face a foe like this? Yun Shi kept thinking, thoughts racing like a river. Rather than trade speed and force, she’d rather win with a plan. He was a speed type; his movement was a craft you could learn. If she caught the principle, she could mirror it like a calligrapher’s hand.
He vanished, then flitted behind and lit a tornado kick that launched her like a pebble. “Damn, that guy...” On speed, he owned the field; she needed the principle of his “instant” move. Wait. A spark flicked in her mind; his movement always started from the ground. When his feet had no place to plant, he never used it once. So that was it. By that logic, Yun Shi could do the same, rhythm for rhythm.
“What are you spacing out for? You’ll die!” He laughed, a strange crowing. He turned energy into light bolts again and flung them like hail.
Not far off, Sham’s heart burned like a lantern; watching Yun Shi pinned gnawed at her. Yet her hands were empty, helpless as a sparrow in a net. If this dragged, time would bleed grain by grain; enemy squads would gather like clouds. Escape would freeze like a river in winter. How could she help? Sham racked her brain, thoughts circling like moths.
“Right—the air current.” The memory slapped back like a wave. Earlier, blast winds had rag‑dolled them like leaves; returning that would be clean revenge. She didn’t have Yun Shi’s sharp head; she could only act by feel, fishing in fog. The two fought hard, stray shockwaves licking toward her like brushfire. Step by step, their fight drifted closer to Sham’s patch of ground.
Sham drew all her Mystic Power, gathered it like rain into her staff. She shut her eyes and felt for their places, heat marked in night. There was only one chance; she couldn’t miss, not by a hair. She told herself again and again, a mantra like beads. The enemy had Yun Shi mostly suppressed; arrogance swelled in him like summer thunder. He wanted to finish quick and pocket the credit like a shiny coin.
Yun Shi lashed out, funneled energy into her right leg like coals in a forge. She kicked hard; he staggered, shocked, tumbling back dozens of meters like a cut kite. “Now!” As he stepped into her ring, Sham unleashed, a beam that speared his place. Boom. He had just set his feet when the blast bloomed; his body spun and flew. “Ah!” As he went airborne, Yun Shi seized the opening like a hunter. She dropped, hammered the earth with more than ten rapid stamps, then vanished like dusk. That was his movement’s principle; Yun Shi snatched it and wore it like a cloak. She flashed to his front; her fist came down like a falling hammer. He took the hit, hard and clean, and crashed into dirt like a felled tree.
“That Sham...” A breath of thanks flickered; it was thanks to her. Yun Shi spared her a glance, no extra motion, just a cool glint. She rode the rare chance, pulled two daggers, and rushed him like a storm. He was staggered, stuck stiff; before he could breathe, a girl was on him. “Aaaaaaah!” The cry tore like cloth in wind. Yun Shi wasn’t merciful; when she meant to kill, she didn’t hesitate a grain. One stab, then another, sank deep like stakes; red liquid painted her hands. Even his pain was smothered, voice stolen by blood like mud over a flame. If there’s a path to victory, she takes it, ugly or not; winning is winning. This is Yun Shi’s way, a blade that cuts clean through dusk.
Yun Shi panted hard, breath rasping like a bellows. The man slumped onto her, then slid to the ground; blood pooled like a dark pond. Blood ran like a river; daggers clattered; her heart had long since adapted. The girl sank slowly to her knees, a lone figure under a crimson sky.
