The Age of Tyranny - Assassin: Part 1

The Imperial Capital of Luoyang

The air in Minister Wang Yun’s private study was thick with the scent of expensive incense, a fragrant veil meant to mask the stench of desperation clinging to the capital. Ever since the tyrant Dong Zhuo had seized control of the Emperor, the Realm had bled. Any minister or lord who dared stand against the "Regent" was swiftly silenced, their entire bloodlines eradicated to ensure no embers of rebellion remained.

These were desperate times. Desperate measures were no longer just an option; they were a necessity.

Wang Yun waited in silence. Across the room, his adopted daughter, Diaochan—a girl of unparalleled beauty and delicate grace—prepared tea for their arrival. For months, the two of them had painstakingly woven a honey-trap, a final, sacrificial stratagem to sever the tyrant from his monstrous vanguard if all other daggers failed.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor. A servant appeared at the threshold, his face pale and his hands visibly trembling.

Behind the terrified servant stood the much-debated governor of Puyang, Cao Cao. But it was the shadow trailing him that made Wang Yun’s breath hitch in his throat.

Walking just a step behind Cao Cao was one of the Heavenly Swords: Kai Jin, the Blade from Hell. Wang Yun knew the stories. He knew what this entity had done to the Ten Attendants, and how easily he had cleaved through the reinforced gates of the capital. If Cao Cao was bringing the Heavenly Sword of Order into this plot, Wang Yun suddenly realized he might not have to sacrifice Diaochan after all.

“Minister Wang Yun,” Cao Cao greeted the elder statesman, his tone smooth and respectful. “I have come to ensure we move forward with our plans.”

“Indeed. You have my gratitude for braving the capital, Lord Cao... and for bringing such distinguished company.” Wang Yun’s eyes darted cautiously toward Kai Jin.

The swordsman wasn’t even looking at the old minister. His single visible red eye was fixed on Diaochan. He studied the supposedly fragile girl with mild, calculating curiosity. As he gazed deeper, the crimson glow of his eye seemed to dull with disinterest.

“A lie in the flesh,” Kai Jin stated laconically, completely dismissing her.

Diaochan’s breath caught. She had spent her life managing the lust and ambition of powerful men, but the chilling scrutiny of a being who could instantly dissect the truth from her fiction made her feel entirely exposed.

Cao Cao caught the weight of Kai Jin’s dismissal immediately. The servant girl is more than she portrays, he noted silently. A useful warning.

Moving with the grace of a willow branch, Diaochan kept her eyes lowered and poured the tea.

“For this particular endeavor, I wanted to ensure absolute certainty,” Cao Cao continued, taking the delicate cup. “That is why I brought my sharpest blade.”

Kai Jin looked down at the offered tea. He caught the scent of the steam, and a faint, almost imperceptible shake of his head followed.

“Not the same,” he murmured softly, a flicker of disappointment crossing his otherwise emotionless face.

“In any case,” Cao Cao said, drawing the focus back. “We must take all necessary precautions. Even with the greatest odds of success, we must prepare our escape route. My most trusted generals are positioned nearby to extract us the moment Dong Zhuo falls.”

“Lord Cao Cao...” Wang Yun shuddered as Kai Jin’s burning gaze finally drifted toward him. “Have you considered what must be done should you fail?”

“Should we fail,” the warlord replied, glancing at Kai Jin to gauge his reaction, “then we will have no choice but to challenge Dong Zhuo in open rebellion. We will raise a coalition of the righteous and end his tyranny for good.”

The old minister sighed heavily, the weight of his age pulling his head down. Diaochan stepped to his side, gently taking his hand.

“Understood. Then I shall pray for your success, Lord Cao. May the Heavenly Sword of Order complete his divine task.” Wang Yun bowed deeply. “I will make the arrangements for your audience with Dong Zhuo. You will, of course, have to relinquish your weapons before stepping onto the dais, but—”

“Irrelevant,” the Heavenly Sword cut in sharply. His voice carried the cold, absolute certainty of an executioner's block. “Whether I hold a sword or fight with empty hands, I will take the tyrant’s head.”

Wang Yun looked from his delicate daughter to the apocalyptic weapon standing in his study. The complex, tragic web of seduction he had planned evaporated. He didn't need to ruin Diaochan. He just needed to point this monster at the throne.

For his part, Kai Jin found the entire meeting incredibly tedious. He barely registered the politicians whispering of mandates and treason. To them, this was a legendary rebellion for the sake of the Realm. To Kai Jin, it was just another chore. A fat man sat in a chair, and Cao Cao wanted him removed. It was a simple matter of distance, steel, and blood.

The Heavenly Sword of Order closed his eyes, tuning out the minister's trembling voice. The inner lake of his mind was still and cold, its turbulent waters calmed by the memory of Ming Yue's music before his departure.

But even in that perfect calm, he listened. He listened to the rhythm of the city. He listened to the pulse of the Realm.

Waiting for the heartbeat that matched his own.

A few days later, Cao Cao and Kai Jin were escorted by the Imperial Guards deep into the heart of the palace. The Regent, Dong Zhuo, had summoned the ambitious governor of Puyang to "grace" him with a few words of advice.

They were led through the very halls they had stormed not too long ago to slaughter the Ten Attendants. The memory made Cao Cao slightly uneasy, but he ruthlessly pushed the sentiment aside. His task was absolute: lull the tyrant into a false sense of security just long enough for his Sword to execute the assassination.

Kai Jin trailed a half-step behind Cao Cao, playing the part of a standard bodyguard. Yet, the Imperial Guards flanking them were sweating beneath their armor, their eyes darting nervously toward the swordsman. Even with his weapons confiscated at the gates, they knew the rumors. They knew the Blade from Hell didn't need a sword to take a life.

For the Heavenly Sword of Order, their fear was a predictable variable. But he also found it pitiful. These men were the final shield of the Emperor, yet they trembled like leaves. If this was all the capital could muster, the tyrant’s death was a certainty.

They arrived at the massive audience hall. The chamber was packed with trembling ministers and armored elites, all watching the two men approach the raised dais. Atop the throne sat Dong Zhuo, the warlord from Western Liang, his massive frame having only grown fatter as his debauchery swelled alongside his power.

“Lord Regent,” a minister announced, his voice echoing in the cavernous room. “We have in our presence Lord Cao Cao, Governor of Puyang, and his bodyguard, Kai Jin.”

Murmurs rippled through the gathered court. Cao Cao offered a flawless, formal bow. Kai Jin dropped to one knee, offering the cold, minimal greeting of a subordinate. But while his head was bowed, his red eye traced the distances and space of the room with predatory intent. He found the specific guard holding his confiscated curved sword.

One second to reach him and reclaim the blade, Kai Jin calculated, tracing an invisible line across the marble floor to the throne.

His focus became absolute. He tuned out the bloated tyrant’s arrogant booming voice. He ignored Cao Cao’s masterful web of half-truths and political deflections. What Kai Jin did pay attention to were the nervous, fleeting glances Dong Zhuo shot in his direction. The tyrant was sweating.

Two seconds to clear the steps. An instant draw. Clean horizontal bisection. Kick the falling corpse to project backward to Cao Cao’s side. Five seconds total.

The inner lake of Kai Jin’s mind settled into perfect, undisturbed stillness. It was just another chore.

“So tell me, Cao Cao,” Dong Zhuo’s voice thundered, cutting through the murmurs. “Are you loyal to the Han, or to Dong Zhuo?”

Kai Jin took this as the final variable. Depending on the answer, the five seconds would begin.

“A complicated question to answer, Regent,” Cao Cao replied, his voice a mask of pragmatic calm. “It makes a man wonder how many have been slain for answering incorrectly. Or perhaps they were slain regardless of being right or wrong?”

Kai Jin’s weight shifted imperceptibly to the balls of his feet.

“Do not bore me with your poetic nonsense!” Dong Zhuo roared, his massive bulk shifting as he stood in anger. “Answer my question. Now!”

The crimson glow in Kai Jin’s left eye flared.

“I have always been loyal to only one man,” Cao Cao said, taking a single step forward.

It was the signal.

Kai Jin tapped into the divine current of his Domain. The world instantly ground to a halt. The dust motes floating in the shafts of sunlight froze. To his eyes, the screaming court was trapped in amber.

He exploded into motion.

One second elapsed. He crossed the floor before the guard could even begin his shocked gasp. A barehanded strike shattered the man's wrist, the confiscated sword flipping flawlessly into Kai Jin's grip. The guard's head fell before his knees even buckled.

Two seconds elapsed. Kai Jin launched himself at the dais. The tyrant barely registered the blur of motion. Dong Zhuo's bloodshot eyes widened in terror as the black pupil and burning red iris of the Blade from Hell materialized right in front of him.

Kai Jin held the scabbard horizontal. His right hand tightened on the hilt. His muscles coiled for the blinding draw.

Too easy, he thought grimly.

Then, he heard it.

Thump-thump... Thump-thump.

A heavy, thunderous drumming. Unnatural. Wild. Defiant. It was the heartbeat he had been chasing across the entire Realm.

At the very edge of his peripheral vision, something massive tore through the frozen air. It was moving at an impossible, godlike speed—a speed that matched his own. Just as Kai Jin’s blade cleared the scabbard, whistling toward the tyrant's neck, the crescent blade of a colossal halberd smashed into his trajectory.

CRASH!

The kinetic shockwave of the impact blew out the golden braziers and spider-webbed the marble dais.

Kai Jin’s boots tore gouges into the stone as he was violently shoved backward. For the first time since he was forged, his eyes went wide. The deafening screech of divine steel grinding against steel shattered the eardrums of the front-row guards.

Cao Cao stumbled, his political mask entirely obliterated by shock. In the span of three seconds, his flawless assassination had been aborted.

Kai Jin’s sword was locked against the shaft of a massive halberd, mere inches from Dong Zhuo’s trembling throat.

Confusion.

Outrage.

Shock.

Inside Kai Jin’s mind, the perfect, still lake did not just ripple—it ruptured into a boiling volcano of chaos.

For the first time in his existence, he had failed to remove an obstacle. He had been stopped. He kicked off the halberd, back-flipping down the stairs to place his body between the throne and a stunned Cao Cao.

From the heavy shadows behind the throne, a towering shape stepped into the ruined light.

The warrior pulled his heavy halberd back with effortless grace, the twin demon-horns of his headdress scraping the high ceiling. He was clad in massive, demonic armor that should have made such blinding speed impossible.

The giant looked down at the Heavenly Sword. Beneath the horned helm, Kai Jin saw the same blinding, abyssal red glow emanating from the warrior's eyes.

And the heartbeat. It was deafening now—just as hungry, just as violent as his own.

“Ahh! You made it just in time, Lu Bu!” Dong Zhuo cackled, wiping the nervous sweat from his chins.

“I am Lu Bu!” The God of War leveled his halberd, a tidal wave of bloodlust flooding the massive hall. “Behold the greatest warrior this world has ever seen!”

Cao Cao’s mind raced desperately. The plot was dead. They were trapped in the heart of the capital with a monster that could actually block the Blade from Hell. They had to run. He turned to issue the retreat order, but the words died in his throat.

The Heavenly Sword of Order—the stoic, unfeeling weapon who viewed death as a tedious chore—was trembling.

Kai Jin was smiling. It was a terrifying, jagged expression of pure, unadulterated joy. His eyes were narrowed into the predatory hunger of a starving beast that had finally found a meal. He was gripping his sword handle so tightly the divine steel was audibly groaning.

“I finally found you…”