“A wounded wolf is dangerous.
A smiling stranger is worse.”
– Saying of the Poison Tribe
Three days after the Trial of the Black Marsh…
The morning mist refused to leave.
Even the oldest hunters frowned.
“The forest is hiding something.”
…
Near the northern river…
Zhao Long was gathering medicinal herbs.
Suddenly…
He stopped.
There…
Half-buried beneath tangled reeds…
A man lay motionless.
His clothes were torn.
His hands were stained with dried blood.
A broken arrow pierced his shoulder.
But what caught Zhao Long’s attention was not the wound.
It was the calluses on the man’s hands.
Not the hands of a farmer.
Not a merchant.
A soldier.
…
The hunters quickly surrounded the stranger.
One drew his knife.
“Kill him.”
“He has seen our lands.”
Another hesitated.
“He may know who shot him.”
The debate grew louder.
Only Zhao Long remained silent.
He knelt beside the unconscious man.
His fingers lightly touched the wound.
Then he frowned.
“This poison…”
Grandmother Wu stepped forward.
“You recognize it?”
Zhao Long nodded.
“It was made to weaken the body.”
“Not to kill.”
The old woman looked at him carefully.
“What does that tell you?”
He answered quietly.
“Someone wanted him alive.”
Silence fell.
…
The stranger awoke after sunset.
He stared at the unfamiliar faces around him.
Then…
He laughed weakly.
“So…”
“The Black Marsh truly exists.”
One hunter narrowed his eyes.
“Who are you?”
The man smiled.
“A fool.”
“I believed I could cross these forests alone.”
No one laughed.
Grandmother Wu sat opposite him.
“Why were soldiers chasing you?”
His smile disappeared.
“They weren’t soldiers.”
“They were mercenaries.”
The word spread through the gathering like cold wind.
Even the eldest hunters exchanged uneasy glances.
“They sell their blades to anyone.”
“They burn villages.”
“They betray kings.”
“They hunt people…”
“…for silver.”
…
The stranger’s eyes settled on Zhao Long.
“You were the one who treated my wound.”
Zhao Long nodded.
Then he chuckled.
“A child.”
“And yet…”
“You looked at me like a commander judging a battlefield.”
For the first time…
Grandmother Wu noticed something unusual.
The stranger wasn’t afraid of the poisonous forest.
He was afraid of the people beyond it.
…
The next morning…
The wounded man prepared to leave.
Before disappearing into the mist, he turned back.
“Listen carefully.”
“The kingdoms beyond these mountains are changing.”
“Greedy men have begun searching for places hidden from maps.”
“When they discover this marsh…”
“They won’t come with questions.”
“They’ll come with chains.”
His footsteps faded into the fog.
No one spoke.
Not even the birds sang.
…
That night…
Zhao Long stood alone beneath the ancient watchtree.
He looked toward the mountains.
“Mercenaries…”
He whispered the unfamiliar word.
In his previous life…
He had read about men who fought only for gold.
In this life…
He had just heard of them for the first time.
He did not know…
That years from now…
Those same mercenaries would steal everything from him.
And from the ashes of that betrayal…
The legend of the Masked King would begin.