It was the dead of night, and the heavy breathing of his roommates echoed through the dorm like caged beasts. Only Rin's slender form trembled slightly on his bunk, disturbed by a shallow sleep. Last night's skirmish with the buzz-cut boy, that awakened instinct, had acted like a rusty yet sharp key, prying open forbidden gates deep within his memory. The chaotic, indistinct images now flooded his dream like a tidal wave, so real they almost suffocated him.
He saw an endless darkness, rent only by flashes of blades. Blood, splattered everywhere, its metallic sweetness pervading the air, strangely mingling with the stale, moldy scent of the dorm room that still clung to his nostrils. He watched countless blurry figures fall before him, their screams shattered by the sharpness of a blade. And he, wielding an ink-black long saber, moved like a phantom between life and death, every strike precise and deadly, without a hint of hesitation or mercy. His steps trod over mountains of corpses and seas of blood, his gaze as cold as ice, as if nothing in the world could stir a single ripple within him.
"Blade of Demise." A cold voice whispered in his ear, as if from a distant past. This title, like a brand, was deeply etched into his very soul. He was the dark organization's strongest assassin, a cold, ruthless, and unstoppable weapon. There was no mission he couldn't complete, no target he couldn't eliminate. His name, in the underworld, was synonymous with terror, a nightmare for all who were hunted, an existence revered by everyone within the organization. He had once believed he would forever be that sharp blade, endlessly executing orders, until—
The scene shifted abruptly. The bloody carnage vanished, replaced by a pristine, snow-covered landscape. Snowflakes fluttered down, landing on his shoulders, cold yet strangely bringing a hint of solace. He looked up and saw a figure standing in the center of the snowy expanse, her back to him. It was a slender, elegant female form, draped in a pure white cloak, her long hair cascading down like a waterfall, leaving only a blurred profile, yet enough to instantly melt the deepest ice within his heart.
"Ye Xue…" He struggled, trying to call out the name, but no sound escaped. His throat felt choked, leaving only an endless void. This name, like a beacon, illuminated his cold past world.
Ye Xue. The name struck him like a bolt of lightning, tearing through his chaotic memories. She was the only light in his life, the only warmth in his cold world. She was his partner, his comrade in arms, and the only person he had ever loved, the one he trusted most. They had fought side by side, countless times hovering on the brink of death, entrusting their backs to each other. It was a silent understanding and bond that transcended life and death. He had once believed she was the only soul who understood his inner solitude, the only one who would never betray him. He had even, for her sake, contemplated leaving the organization and living in seclusion, but alas, that thought had yet to be put into action—
Then, the dream abruptly twisted. The pure white snow turned a glaring red, and Ye Xue's figure slowly turned to face him. The face that had once brought him warmth now held an extreme coldness and unfamiliarity. Her eyes were vacant, as if she had lost her soul, only her gaze remained, deep and cold. In her hand, she held a poisoned dagger, its sharp blade plunged deep into his chest. The poison spread rapidly through his blood, freezing every cell in his body, and freezing his heart, which had once beaten only for her.
"Why…" He felt his body growing progressively colder, blood staining the pure white snow and Ye Xue's pristine cloak. The intense pain, and even more so, the profound, unforgettable betrayal. He couldn't believe that the person he trusted and loved most would strike him down like this.
"The organization needs a hero's sacrifice to better control this world," Ye Xue's voice, unnervingly clear in the dream, was devoid of any emotion, as if merely reading a pre-ordained verdict. "You're too strong, Rin. Your existence itself is an unstable factor. Your love, furthermore, was an unnecessary burden."
There was no hint of mercy in her eyes, only deep, calculating ambition and a barely perceptible weariness. He tried to retaliate, but the strength in his body was rapidly draining, the poisoned blood congealing in his veins like ice shards. He collapsed, falling into an endless darkness, feeling life ebb away bit by bit. His last conscious thought was Ye Xue's cold face and the deeply hidden ambition in her eyes, along with the love for her he couldn't suppress. Before consciousness completely faded, he vaguely saw Ye Xue's lips form a word, but the chaos had already consumed him.
—And then, everything dissolved into nothingness.
"Ah!"
Rin jolted awake from the nightmare, his body trembling violently, cold sweat soaking his thin clothes. He gasped for air, his chest feeling crushed by an invisible weight, making it hard to breathe. The pain of betrayal, the chilling cold of despair, still seemed to reverberate within him, so real it felt as if the dagger's tip still lingered in his heart.
He clutched his aching chest. Though there was no physical wound, the soul-deep agony was terrifyingly real. He knew this was more than just a dream. Those fragmented images, that name—Ye Xue, that poisoned dagger… they were all parts of his true past.
"Blade of Demise… Ye Xue…" He murmured the two names, his voice trembling uncontrollably. He, once the most powerful entity in that dark world, had died by the hand of the one he trusted most. And now, he had unexpectedly been reborn into this assassin's world, strikingly similar to his past, in an entirely unfamiliar body and with an amnesiac soul. Though this body wasn't his original one, the instinct etched into his bones, the keen sense for danger, and the astonishing combat skills he'd displayed in the dorm last night, all silently attested to his former power.
What caused even greater turmoil within him was the vague recollection that his past betrayal seemed intertwined with his former "love" for Ye Xue. He had been weakened by her, and his vulnerabilities had been exposed because of her. Furthermore, in the fragmented memories, there seemed to be glimpses of him having "caused her death" in his past life. What exactly was that? He needed to investigate.
His memory was fractured now, but he at least knew one thing—he wasn't an ordinary person. He had been an assassin, a terrifying, top-tier assassin. And the person who betrayed him, the woman named Ye Xue, he needed to find her, uncover the truth, and make her pay for everything she had done.
He touched the short dagger by his pillow. It was still there, its cold touch a familiar weight. This dagger, too, seemed to have appeared in his hazy dreams. Was it a part of his past?
Outside, the sky was brightening, a new day about to begin. But for Rin, it was merely the continuation of a nightmare. Filled with questions and resentment, he forced himself to calm down. He knew that surviving, regaining his memory, and uncovering the truth were his only options now. In this world of slaughter, he would reforge himself, becoming even sharper than the "Blade of Demise." And the Shadow Academy, perhaps, was his first step back to the pinnacle.
As he stepped out of the dorm and walked towards the training grounds, a figure brushed past him. It was a girl in the academy uniform, her long hair dark as ink, her profile delicate and familiar. Her presence carried a cool, detached aura that seemed out of place in their grim surroundings, as if she were sculpted from ice and snow. Rin's heart clenched violently, that vague yet profound pain striking him again.
It was her. Ye Xue.
She was here, in this academy too. She resembled the face from his dream so closely, but now, her eyes held no coldness, no killing intent, only the innocence of a new student and a hint of aloofness. She didn't know him, at least not yet.
Gazing at this "Ye Xue" who was still unaware of him, Rin's heart surged with tumultuous emotions. The profound betrayal from his past life, his own death, and that elusive fragment of "him causing her death" intertwined, fueling both his hatred and his questions. Yet, at the same time, the deep-seated love he once harbored for her, an unspoken yearning, also washed over him like a tide. How should he face her? Should he reveal the truth, or succumb to their shared past once more? Would he fall in love with her again? This question, like a sharp ice pick, pierced his heart.