white phantom

Rain poured down heavily over the lands of Murim, drenching the stone-paved streets of a small village. A young man stood motionless before a simple hut. His milky-white eyes stared blankly ahead, yet his expression was so sharp that it sent chills down anyone's spine.

In his arms lay the limp body of a woman—Mei Lin. Her blood flowed freely, staining the white dress she wore. The rain was not strong enough to wash away the crimson that clung to her.

"Shen..." Mei Lin whispered, her voice barely audible over the downpour. Her trembling fingers touched his face, as if memorizing every feature for the last time. "Don't blame yourself..."

Bai Shen didn't respond. His lips quivered, his breaths were heavy, and his head hung low. He wanted to cry, to scream, but no sound came out.

A scroll slipped from Mei Lin's lifeless fingers—a death threat from the Night Shadow Sect. Bai Shen reached for it, his fingers tracing the engravings on the paper. He couldn't read, but he knew what it said.

They had killed Mei Lin because of him.

And they would pay.

With sightless eyes, Bai Shen stepped into the darkness. The rain continued to fall, washing away his footprints. Today, an ordinary man died. In his place, a White Phantom was born.