The Volume of the Ink-Killing Broken Sword

In 221 BC, at the victory banquet in Xianyang Palace, King Zheng of Qin raises his cup.

“The realm is united!”

Beneath the wavering candlelight, the envoys of the six states turn deathly pale. Below the steps, a young swordsman dressed in dark robes lowers his head, his fingertips gently stroking the broken sword at his waist. Only two-thirds of its blade remains, its snapped edge as if gnawed by a monstrous beast, while dark red patterns flow along its spine.

His name is Jing Li, the nephew of Jing Ke.

That night, his uncle’s corpse is hung from the walls of Xianyang as a warning, and the Mohist assassins are hunted down. Jing Li snatches the broken sword from the sea of flames and flees to Mount Zhongnan.

Three years pass.