The Heart of Zero

Shingin dashed out into the rain, droplets battering his face as the mist blurred his vision. His eyes scanned frantically for any sign of the shadowy figure. Every moment of hesitation only intensified his anxiety. Lightning streaked across the sky, and the roaring thunder seemed to meld with the pounding of his heartbeat, a relentless and uneasy rhythm.

"Where are you!" Shingin gritted his teeth, spinning to maintain his guard. Suddenly, a faint whistling of air—

A sharp glint streaked toward him. Acting purely on instinct, Shingin rolled backward, narrowly dodging the thrown dagger. Thud! The blade buried itself in the ground with a dull thump. Panting heavily, Shingin's expression darkened. This wasn't his first encounter with the shadowy assassin. The opponent excelled at lurking in the darkness, refusing to reveal themselves unless absolutely necessary.

"Damn it," Shingin cursed inwardly, recognizing how cunning the adversary was. Shutting his eyes, he tried to filter out the chaos around him, focusing solely on the sounds—the wind, the rain, the rustling leaves. Within the ambient noise, he detected a faint trace of malice.

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"

Blades sliced through the air again, this time from multiple directions. Shingin's eyes snapped open. With a fluid motion, he conjured his Alien Soul, a translucent blue longsword materializing in his grasp. The blade shimmered with a faint azure glow, cutting a cold figure against the rain-soaked night.

Shingin's ears twitched at a subtle shift in the wind. With a precise sweep of his sword, two metallic clangs echoed as he deflected the incoming projectiles. The daggers ricocheted into the muddy ground, but their impact left his arm trembling from the force.

"Damn…" Shingin muttered, shaking off the tingling in his hand. His opponent wasn't just hiding in the shadows—they were calculating, patient, and deadly.

He scanned his surroundings, muscles tense. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a fleeting movement. There! A figure darted between the trees, the faint glint of a blade betraying their presence. Shingin surged forward without hesitation, his sword tracing a gleaming arc through the rain.

"Clang!" The figure dodged swiftly, retreating behind a tree. Shingin adjusted his stance and leaped onto a nearby branch, using the higher vantage to track the elusive shadow.

"Whoosh!" Another dagger hurtled toward him. He dodged mid-air, planting a foot on the trunk of a tree before launching himself back toward his target. His sword slashed toward the figure, but the opponent was impossibly quick, vanishing into the shadows once more.

"Too fast…" Shingin hissed. Before he could adjust, a chilling surge of killing intent swept from behind him.

"Bam!" Spinning just in time, Shingin raised his sword to block, but the assassin's punch struck his chest, sending him sprawling backward into the mud. Water splashed around him as pain flared through his torso. Clutching his sword, he forced himself to his feet, rain streaming down his face.

From the shadows, the assassin stepped forward, his twin daggers glinting under the faint light. Rain dripped from the edges of his cloak as his cold gaze bore into Shingin, exuding an aura of death.

"You can't escape," the assassin sneered, his voice low and icy.

Shingin didn't reply, gripping his sword tighter. He knew his opponent was stronger and faster, but retreat wasn't an option. The weight of the situation bore down on him. For a fleeting moment, doubt clouded his mind, but he shook it away. He couldn't afford hesitation.

The assassin lunged again, blades flashing through the rain. Shingin moved to meet him head-on, sword and daggers clashing in a rapid, violent exchange. Each strike was calculated, precise, and aimed to kill. Rain slicked the ground beneath their feet, but neither faltered, their battle growing increasingly intense.

The assassin's movements were impossibly fluid, each strike perfectly measured. Shingin, though less experienced, adapted quickly. His swordplay became sharper, faster, each move building toward something greater.

Then, Shingin spotted it—a split-second opening in the assassin's stance. His eyes lit up, and his grip on the sword tightened.

"Dragon's Descent!"

Shingin roared, swinging his blade upward. The sword's energy surged, merging with the rain to form a spiraling, serpentine water dragon. The ethereal creature twisted through the storm, roaring with the fury of lightning and thunder as it bore down on the assassin with terrifying speed.

The water dragon collided with the assassin in a deafening explosion of rain and energy, sending him tumbling across the ground. Clutching his chest, the assassin staggered to his feet, his movements unsteady.

Shingin saw his chance. The assassin's killing intent had faltered, his aura disrupted. This was his moment to turn the tide.

"Now!"

The blue light of his Alien Soul flared brighter, almost fusing with the rain itself. Shingin dashed forward, his body a blur. With a burst of speed, he leaped into the air, his sword raised high.

Rain streaked around him like shards of crystal as he brought his blade down with all his might.

"Give me the old woman!" Shingin shouted, his voice a thunderous command that echoed across the storm.