Blood and Vengeance

Shin had already memorized the manor's layout in a short period. There were separate guard buildings, austere servant quarters, and stables with prized horses for quick departures.

Every detail, from wall thickness to torch placement, was cataloged as a living map. He observed guard patterns, patrol timings, and the locations of armories and supplies, crucial for conflict.

Peering through the windows of the guardhouse, he spotted a commotion. Inside, the female guard was bound to a pole, stripped naked, and beaten while the other guards jeered.

Squad Captain Woodson stood at the forefront, grinning with sadistic pleasure as he watched the spectacle unfold. His eyes gleamed with a perverse delight, his chest puffed out with the intoxicating power he wielded over another human being.

"Thought you could get away with this, huh, Salene?!" he sneered, his voice dripping with venom as he waved a letter in front of her face. The letter, its contents unknown, was a symbol of her defiance, a transgression that had earned her this brutal treatment.

Salene's eyes widened in horror, reflecting the agony she endured. Blood trickled down her face from the countless blows she had endured, each one a hammer strike against her dignity. "No! That was for my brother! Please, Sir Woodson, you have to believe me!" she pleaded, her voice a raw whisper, barely audible over the guards' cruel laughter.

Woodson ignored her pleas, tossing the letter into the flames without reading it. Salene screamed, her cries raw with despair, echoing the death of her last hope.

The guards howled with laughter, mocking her agony, their faces contorted in grotesque masks of cruelty. They were not just enforcing order; they were reveling in the destruction of a fellow human being.

"You bastard! I just wanted to go home to my family!" she sobbed, her words laced with a grief that transcended her immediate suffering. Woodson smirked, savoring her pain. "Oh, I'm a bastard, am I?" His ego, fragile yet monstrous, demanded constant reaffirmation of his power.

With a snap of his fingers, a burly guard stepped forward, his eyes devoid of empathy. He drove his fist into Salene's solar plexus with a sickening thud. She gasped for air, her body convulsing as vomit spilled from her lips, a grotesque offering to her tormentors.

Before she could collapse, a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over her, the shock jolting her back into consciousness. Her body trembled violently as cramps racked her limbs, her muscles spasming in protest against the abuse.

"You should be grateful that you were given the honor of serving a noble, royal family, you stupid bitch!" Woodson roared, his face inches from hers, his breath hot and foul. He backhanded her across the face with brutal force, the impact echoing in the confined space.

Salene's head snapped to the side, her vision blurring, but instead of cowering, she turned back to him, her eyes blazing with defiance. At that moment, she spat in his face, a final act of rebellion.

At that moment, Shin knew it was time to act. He had witnessed enough. The line had been crossed, not just in terms of violence, but in the desecration of the human spirit.

Bursting through the door, he stepped into the room, his presence silencing the laughter as abruptly as a snapped string. Every pair of eyes turned toward him, widening in surprise and apprehension as he surveyed the scene. He exhaled slowly, the air leaving his lungs in a long, deliberate sigh, his expression unreadable, a mask of cold fury.

"Gentlemen," he said calmly, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that cut through the silence. "I'll be crashing this party.".

Before they could react, Shin lunged for the nearest guard, seizing a sword from his belt with lightning speed. The guard barely had time to register his movement before Shin's blade sliced his throat open in one swift motion. Blood sprayed across the room, a grotesque baptism, as the man collapsed, gurgling on his own lifeblood.

Woodson barked, "Get him!" His voice, though still commanding, trembled with a flicker of fear. The situation had spiraled out of his control.

The guards scrambled for their weapons, their bravado replaced by a desperate need to survive. One rushed forward, swinging his sword in a wide arc toward Shin's side. With effortless precision, Shin sidestepped the attack, the blade whistling past him, and countered in the same movement.

His own blade, a silver blur, glided across the man's trachea. The guard fell, his hands clawing at his throat in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding, his eyes wide with disbelief as his life ebbed away.

More came at him, their movements frantic, uncoordinated, their fear making them sloppy. Shin danced between them, a whirlwind of death, weaving through their strikes with lethal efficiency.

Salene, still tied to the pole, was no longer the broken victim. She watched in awe, her breathing ragged, not just from the pain, but from the sheer spectacle before her. She had seen men fight before, seen death in its various guises, but nothing like this.

Shin wasn't just killing; he was dismantling them with the precision of a master craftsman. Every movement was calculated, every step, every flick of his blade designed for maximum efficiency. The guards, who had moments ago seemed invincible, stood no chance against this relentless force.

Relief flooded her. She realized she was safe, truly safe. The nightmare that had gripped her for so long, the beatings, the humiliation, the hopelessness, was coming to an end before her very eyes.

He was death itself, walking among them, and for once, he was on her side.

The battlefield fell silent, save for the wet sound of blood pooling beneath the fallen, a macabre symphony of death. The air hung heavy with the stench of iron and viscera, a grim testament to the carnage that had unfolded.

Now only one man remained, Squad Captain Woodson. He stood amidst the carnage, the last bastion of the old order, and he was crumbling.

Terror flashed across his face as he dropped his sword, the clatter echoing his shattered authority. He raised his hands in surrender, his bravado evaporating in the face of such overwhelming power. "I yield! Please, spare my life!" he shrieked, his voice cracking with desperation.

Shin ignored him, his focus solely on Salene, who was still tied to the pole. Just as he reached for her restraints, Woodson, in a final act of pathetic defiance, snatched his fallen sword and lunged.

"DIE!" he screamed, his voice filled with a hatred born of fear and desperation.

Shin moved faster than humanly possible. In a blur of motion, he severed both of Woodson's hands at the wrists. The captain froze, his mind struggling to comprehend what had just happened. He stared at his severed limbs, the blood spurting from the wounds, his face a mask of shock. Then the pain hit.

A guttural scream tore from Woodson's throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated suffering, as he staggered back, blood pouring from his mutilated limbs, painting the walls with his life force. His eyes, wide with disbelief and horror, reflected the ruin of his world.

Shin turned to Salene, his expression softening slightly as he sliced through her bindings with a swift, clean motion. "Can you stand?" he asked, his voice low and concerned, offering his hand.

She groaned, her body battered and bruised, every muscle screaming in protest, but she refused to stay down. Shaking, she took his hand, her fingers trembling against his, and pulled herself upright.

Shin handed her a sword, its hilt warm from his grip. She weighed it in her hand, the balance familiar and comforting, then turned to face the sobbing, handless man before her.

"You raped and murdered my precious Diana," she growled, her voice trembling with rage, each word a venomous whisper. The memory of her lost loved one, the pain of her violation, fueled her righteous fury.

Woodson's face contorted in sheer panic, his eyes bulging from their sockets. "No! Please wait! I beg you!" he pleaded, his voice a pathetic whimper.

Salene did not wait. There was no room for mercy, no space for forgiveness. Justice demanded its due.

She plunged the sword into his gut, the blade sliding through flesh and sinew with sickening ease. Woodson's screams filled the room. She twisted the blade, relishing the feel of resistance, the visceral connection to her vengeance.

Again and again, she stabbed, her strikes fueled by years of pain and vengeance, each thrust a prayer for her lost Diana. Even as Woodson begged for mercy, his pleas falling on deaf ears, her blade did not falter, her resolve unwavering.

When it was finally over, when the last flicker of life had faded from his eyes, she stepped back, panting, her chest heaving with exertion and adrenaline. Blood dripped from her trembling hands, staining the floor a dark, crimson red. She stared down at his lifeless body, a broken husk of the man who had once held power over her, and a grim satisfaction washed over her.

"Rest in peace, you bastard," she spat, her voice devoid of pity or remorse.

Then, as if the weight of it all finally hit her, the adrenaline fading, the reality of what she had done crashing down upon her, she sank to the ground. Laughter bubbled up from her throat, a hysterical sound that mingled with deep, heaving sobs.

"Diana...my beloved... you may rest in Elysium now," she wept, her tears a mixture of sorrow and relief.

Shin knelt beside her, his expression a mixture of concern and respect. He offered a cloth to wipe her tears, a simple gesture of comfort in the aftermath of such violence. "Are you all right?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Salene sniffled, wiping her face with the offered cloth before nodding, though her body still trembled. "Yeah... I'm okay," she said, the word fragile, tentative.

Shin shook his head, his gaze sweeping over the carnage. "We're not out of the woods yet," he said, his voice firm. "Can you walk? Can you fight?"

Gritting her teeth, Salene forced herself up, drawing on a reserve of strength she didn't know she possessed. She rummaged through a chest, retrieving a potion. She drank it down in one gulp.

The potion worked quickly, mending some of her wounds, easing the pain, and restoring her strength. As she checked her body for injuries, she suddenly realized she was still naked. A deep blush spread across her face, coloring her cheeks a vibrant crimson.

"Sorry!" she yelped, her voice a mortified squeak, scrambling to gather discarded garments and dress with frantic haste.

Shin turned away, giving her a moment to regain her composure. Once fully clothed, she faced him again, more composed, though the flush still lingered on her face. "Thanks for saving me, sir Shin," she said, her voice sincere, her gratitude profound.

"Don't thank me yet," he replied, his tone pragmatic. "I need your help. We're getting everyone out of here. Or we're killing every last one of them tonight."

Salene's eyes darkened with determination, reflecting the fire that now burned within her. "What do you need me to do?" she asked, her voice steady, her fear replaced by a grim resolve.

Shin met her gaze, his eyes intense. "Lead the insurrection," he said, his words ringing with authority. "Show them these people are powerless when good men and women fight back. Let them bear arms and take their justice. This place is built on the suffering of the innocent. It's time to tear it down and build something better on its ashes."

Salene considered his words. She glanced at her bloodstained blade, the weapon now a symbol of her liberation and her vengeance. Finally, she nodded, her decision made. She knelt before him, a gesture of fealty and commitment.

"I swear on my name, on the memory of Diana, I will use my sword to smite the wicked," she vowed, her voice ringing with conviction. "My blade is yours to command."

Shin rested his hand on her shoulder, his touch firm and reassuring, before helping her stand. "Here's what we must do," he said, and together, they began to plan.

They went over the details, their voices low and urgent. Salene would lead the charge, rousing the servants and guards who had suffered under Thomas's rule, igniting the spark of rebellion that had long been dormant within their hearts. The uprising would be swift, brutal, and unstoppable, a whirlwind of righteous fury that would sweep through the manor like a cleansing fire.

For the first time in years, Salene felt a spark of hope ignited within her, a fragile flame in the darkness. This day, which had begun in despair and degradation, had somehow transformed into an opportunity for liberation. It had seemed impossible, but now, with Shin at her side, she would finally have her vengeance, and perhaps, a chance at a new life.

Little did she know, Shin was using her as a shield, a figurehead to draw the enemy's attention. He was ensuring she absorbed the full wrath of Thomas and his forces, becoming the lightning rod for their anger, while he moved unseen, a shadow in the chaos, toward his true target.

And soon, justice, in its most brutal and uncompromising form, would be served. The old order would be shattered, and a new era would begin, forged in fire and blood.