Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Inhuman
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“Caught up in an unexpected mishap and thrown into dire straits. That’s our situation. We’ve come here seeking your aid.”
Clever words.
The martial world was full of surprises. What incident wasn’t unforeseen?
Sang spoke of needing help but revealed nothing of substance. He’d stated his purpose plainly without exposing their identities.
The man’s piercing eyes flashed with intensity.
He continued slowly.
“You’ll at least have to tell me where you’re from.”
His gaze cut right through them. Seol thought to herself that this was no ordinary man. She’d seen plenty of promising young talents coming and going from her clan, but none left as indelible a first impression as this one.
“I’ll only say we’re from a modest merchant guild. Please understand our need for caution.”
“A merchant guild? Not a martial sect?”
“That’s right.”
“Not the Taihang Guild?”
“No.”
The man scowled deeply.
“Not the Taihang Guild?”
He tilted his head and stared at the flickering candle flames.
His eyes gleamed in the candlelight.
His face took on a calculating expression, then he fixed Sang with a straight look and asked.
“Why would the Flame Jade Merchant Guild come here?”
Sang didn’t flinch. But the two sisters behind him did. Seol and Hyang gasped from the back. Their reaction all but confirmed the man’s guess.
“As I said. We seek your help.”
Their shocked faces had already given them away. Sang saw no point in denying it.
This man before them was no ordinary fellow.
Figuring out their identity from just a few words was no small feat.
The man shot back.
“What kind of help?”
“Please protect these young ladies.”
The man’s eyes shifted to the sisters standing close together. He snorted coldly.
“Now that’s a sudden request.”
“It was the young master’s dying wish.”
The man’s eyebrows twitched upward. “Dying wish” wasn’t a term used lightly.
“He said that if we came to you for help, you’d never refuse.”
“What?”
“He called you the most reliable hero around.”
“That old man must’ve gotten the wrong idea.”
Sang’s face hardened ever so slightly.
“No can do. Look elsewhere.”
Seol’s disappointment was overwhelming.
The man’s attitude was the worst.
She’d harbored a sliver of hope seeing how quickly he’d seen through them, but even that shattered in an instant. She stepped forward with a sharp voice.
“How can you do this?”
This time, Sang didn’t stop her. Seol flung off her veiled hat. Her haughty eyes caught the sharp candlelight.
“My father lived by faith and honor alone. He was the sort who couldn’t even imagine betraying the trust of those who believed in him. He must’ve sent us here because he trusted you. If you ignore even that, how can you call yourself a man under heaven with any pride?”
“That’s utter nonsense.”
“Nonsense?”
“I don’t care how Yeom Seoksan lived his life. It’s not my problem if some fool believed in me out of nowhere and now demands I uphold some code of honor.”
The man paused and looked down at her.
“It’s forced. Troublesome.”
A definitive end to the conversation. His tone was like scolding an ignorant child.
And it was justified.
In the martial world, Seol was little more than a naive child.
Help anyone who asks?
The jianghu wasn’t that forgiving. A true hero might say it was expected, but if heroes were so common, they wouldn’t be praised. Even the most righteous ones were human and weighed their options. Especially if the man himself denied being one—then her words were, as he said, nothing but coercion.
“I’m truly disappointed. To think we came to someone like you…”
Her face was etched with genuine dismay.
A glint flashed in the man’s eyes as he watched her.
“I’m disappointed too. An uninvited guest should’ve stayed that way.”
This time, he turned to Sang.
His fierce eyes took on a menacing light.
“What the hell did you bring with you?”
“……!”
“Guessing ‘go home’ won’t work.”
Clink.
The iron chain at his waist rattled metallically. His hand gripped the sword hilt. A dangerous aura emanated from his entire body. Hyang’s grip tightened on Seol’s collar.
“Is the candle tender around?”
An out-of-nowhere question. Seol, tense as ice, voiced her confusion.
“Why bring up the candle tender…?”
“The candles I lit with such effort are about to go out.”
Seol furrowed her fine brows at his reply, her face full of bewilderment.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Unlike my friend, I don’t care much for the dark.”
Seol couldn’t press further. A sudden sound came from behind.
Rip!
Seol and Hyang whipped their heads around. Something tearing. Likely the curtain they’d passed through. Then, light footsteps echoed. Over a dozen black-clad masked figures poured in from the entrance the three had used.
“I’ll have to charge for the curtain separately…”
The man remained calm. He drew his sword with a soft shing. A mid-length white blade etched with black serrations. He swung it twice lightly, resting the blunt side on his shoulder.
“Let’s see.”
The masked intruders moved with agility. They swiftly formed ranks—clearly a well-organized bunch. The swords they drew brimmed with killing intent.
“Behind me, please.”
Sang pulled Seol and Hyang behind him. The man eyed the bloodthirsty masks without a hint of tension.
“Tch. No idea who these clowns are. This is that guy’s specialty.”
He cocked his head and stepped forward.
The masked figures closed in.
Sang retreated cautiously. Seol and Hyang had no choice but to follow. Even in the chaos, Seol didn’t forget to grab her hat—a stark contrast to her earlier stubbornness, showing cool composure.
“Are those them?”
Seol whispered to Sang. He replied.
“Not certain, but probably…”
Hyang drew a short breath. Seol ground her teeth.
“Our enemies…!”
The man seemed uninterested in Seol and Hyang. Yet he strode forward to the front, intentionally or not, shielding the group.
“One, two, three… nine. Not the type to answer if I ask nicely… Come on, then. Let’s wrap this up quick.”
He beckoned them with a gesture.
Two masked figures leaped at him simultaneously. Their sword tips aimed for his nape and heart. At the abrupt lethal strikes, a sticky smile crept across the man’s lips.
He stepped forward half a pace with his left foot, twisting his body lightly to the left to evade both blades. A perfect blend of fluidity and power.
“Just come at me all at once and die, huh?”
Even retreating, he had the leisure to toss out quips.
Another masked figure kicked off the ground, thrusting at the man’s nape. No questions asked—just kill first.
Clang!
The man swung his sword, deflecting the blade. A seemingly light strike packed no light force. The masked figure’s body jerked backward. The man’s sole slammed into the exposed flank.
Thud!
The body flew sideways violently. The man didn’t stop. He launched himself straight at the second charging mask. His serrated black-and-white sword flashed.
Craang!
The thrusting blade snapped in half and spun away.
Terrifying power.
The man pivoted on his waist, heel smashing the foe’s solar plexus.
Crack!
The body crumpled like a puppet with cut strings. The man landed lightly and glanced back. He swept his eyes over the candles, then at the masks, and spoke.
“The candles are still lit. My mercy ends here. Rush me again, and you die.”
The masks showed no sign of retreat despite his warning.
Seven remained standing.
Three advanced while four split to the sides, forming an enveloping formation. Ready to swarm. The man chuckled and added.
“Knew it.”
He leveled his sword at the foes.
Right-hand grip. Sword in one hand, left foot half-step forward, body turned toward them. Feet planted shoulder-width—a common stance.
Nothing distinctive. Yet a mountain-like heaviness settled over the ground.
A brief silence, then the masks lunged.
All seven charged in unison. Their momentum like crashing waves, meant to shatter his aura at once.
Clang! Clang-clang!
One swing met three or four blades without yielding an inch. Spinning twice in place, not a single sword touched him.
Flutter! Shiiiing!
One step, another back. Winds from the whistling blades slipped through his collar.
Fwoosh!
One candle snuffed out.
From above to below.
His sword slashed down at blinding speed.
Whoosh! Scraaape!
Hot blood sprayed.
“Kyaaak!”
Hyang screamed. The gushing blood shimmered red through the candles. The mask collapsed, vomiting blood.
Slash! Shwick!
Once blood was drawn, everything changed.
The masks’ attacks grew fiercer. The man’s eyes darkened in contrast. The whirlwind around intensified.
Fwoosh! Whoosh!
Two more candles died.
Coincidence?
Or deliberate.
Two lethal slashes erupted from his hand in succession. One mask clutched his throat and fell; another tumbled, spilling guts.
‘Scary… he’s truly terrifying!’
Seol had to muster all her strength to steady her dizziness.
She’d trained in self-defense arts for over a decade under so-called masters. But she’d never experienced, nor even witnessed, such a bloody melee.
Fwoosh!
Another candle extinguished, another life gone.
Over half already down. Only three masks left swinging wildly.
Cling! Slash! Thump!
Sword rips chest; returning kick crushes skull.
No forms, no stances, no grips. Looked like a street brawl thug. Yet far stronger than the organized masks.
Boom!
The man kicked off, charging the masks. Another candle flickered out in the rush.
Crunch!
The piercing sound was brutal.
Serrated blade shattered ribs, raking lungs and guts before exiting.
Instant death, of course.
“Not running?”
He tilted his head at the last mask.
No reply.
It knew it was doomed. The mask charged without hesitation. The man shook his head and swung.
Fwoosh!
Another candle snuffed.
Crack!
A savage stroke. Half the mask’s head flew off. The staggering corpse sprayed blood and brains everywhere.
“…….”
Silence fell.