Death Is Fair to Everyone (1)
“Already leaving?”
Kang Liang entered, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Yeon Hojeong nodded.
“Yes. We need to prepare immediately.”
“Tsk. Things were just starting to get interesting.”
“Interesting?”
“I was in the middle of a heated spar with Lady Jeong-an.”
“Hoo. That must have been hard to win.”
“We were fighting purely with techniques, no inner energy. I genuinely almost died back there.”
“Hmm.”
Yeon Hojeong stroked his chin for a moment, then nodded.
“Then you stay behind.”
“Huh?”
“Stay and train. I’ll head out with Elder Pae Yul.”
“Have you finally gotten tired of me?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t even hesitate…”
“Your momentum feels unusual. It looks like a critical juncture. Don’t get greedy. Just train with everything you have.”
Kang Liang’s eyes sparkled.
Yeon Hojeong never joked about the training process. If he was saying this, it meant a truly significant shift was coming for him. ‘Come to think of it, back then…’ Had it not been for Yang Cheon’s interference that wasn’t quite interference, he would have broken through the wall of Limitless.
Of course, he held no regrets. Losing focus at that level had been his own fault. If one started weighing every what-if, one could never live in this world.
Still, Yeon Hojeong’s words made it feel as though another chance had arrived.
Kang Liang asked.
“Will you really be fine without me?”
“Who’s worrying about whom?”
“Woof. Understood. Then please take care of yourself.”
“Yes. And don’t cause any trouble.”
“Now who’s worrying about whom?”
“I’ll kill you.”
Having shaken Kang Liang off, Yeon Hojeong changed into his martial attire and picked up his spear.
Pae Yul glanced at his waist.
“You’re even taking the Black and White Twin Dragon Axes and the Flood Dragon Chain?”
“Yes. You never know what might happen.”
“Stab away with that spear, and if things get messy, you’ll start carving them up again.”
“We’re not going there to fight…”
…was what he wanted to say.
Yeon Hojeong’s expression grew serious.
“We may have to shed blood.”
“Is the situation that bad?”
“Yes.”
“It’s been a while since I properly loosened up.”
“You’ll need to be careful.”
“I’ll hear the details on the way.”
The two men left their quarters and headed straight out of the Black Dragon Department’s headquarters.
“Hm?”
Pae Yul’s eyes narrowed.
“Isn’t that the Iron Cavalry Unit?”
“It is.”
A moment later.
Neiiiiiigh!
With fierce neighing, roughly a hundred cavalrymen came to a halt before them.
Hwang Seok-tae rode at the head. Unlike his usual appearance, he wore solid light armor and held a red longspear, radiating dignity.
Yeon Hojeong tilted his head.
“The commander is coming as well?”
“The vice-commander will handle training adequately.”
“Is that permissible?”
Hwang Seok-tae snorted.
“It’s an order from above. They specifically told me I must accompany you.”
Yeon Hojeong gave a small laugh.
“I won’t refuse, then.”
Hwang Seok-tae offered the reins of two horses.
Yeon Hojeong and Pae Yul mounted. The horses were so well-trained that they remained perfectly still despite carrying riders they had never seen before.
Hwang Seok-tae spoke.
“I only received the urgent order. I don’t know the destination or the nature of the mission.”
“I’ll explain on the way.”
Yeon Hojeong’s eyes deepened. They were the Ghost Eyes of the Black Emperor—eyes that never wavered, yet burned with a fury more intense than anyone else’s.
“The situation has grown urgent. In more ways than one.”
“Huff! Huff!”
The breathing was ragged.
It was no one else’s—it was his own.
The situation was dire, yet what he felt was less fear than sheer absurdity. ‘My breathing is already this disrupted. I really have been hit hard.’ Isn’t it interesting?
When he had mastered only a single weapon, he hadn’t realized it. Only after mastering ten did he understand.
Every weapon carried its own principle of use within its shape.
Once he grasped that, he could wield any weapon that fell into his hands as naturally as breathing.
Thus he became the Hundred Weapons. He was a man who commanded a hundred arms, grown to the point where he could display supreme skill no matter which weapon the world placed in his grasp.
But limiting the scope of weapons had been a mistake. ‘Poison was also an excellent weapon. I only realize that now.’
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Suddenly, brilliant fireworks exploded across the sky in every direction.
A chill ran down his spine. Even though he knew it was a deliberate ploy to unsettle him, the target, gooseflesh still crawled across his back.
Feeling that reaction in himself, Mak Won could not hide the bitter smile that rose inside. ‘In the end, I too am just a weak human who fears death.’
A martial artist versed in a hundred weapons.
He could not stand shoulder to shoulder with the Divine Sword Emperor, but he was an absolute expert bound by the name of the Holy Heavens.
Excluding the Divine Sword Emperor, few could argue against his claim to the title of the greatest under heaven. His personality kept him from clinging to fame, yet he had always held absolute confidence in the martial arts he had cultivated.
That confidence had been shattered to pieces by this incident. ‘I need to move, at least.’
He tried to take a firm step, but the world spun before his eyes.
“Damn it…”
He kept spitting curses he rarely used. That alone showed how anxious he had become.
He circulated the Heavenly Martial Divine Weapon Qi to suppress the surging poison energy.
It was difficult. The poison was growing in both quality and quantity with every passing moment, and the fuel it devoured was none other than his own inner energy.
The poison grew stronger while his power grew weaker. On top of that, the injuries he had sustained were severe. They would not kill him immediately, but if things continued like this for a few more days, he would be hovering at death’s door.
And now pursuers had caught up.
The road ahead looked utterly bleak.
Yet no matter how hopeless the path, he could not simply stop. Mak Won wrung out every last ounce of his reserved stamina and began to run.
The scenery of the forest whipped past in an instant. ‘My legs are still fine.’
Aside from the occasional surges of poison that brought dizziness, moving his body posed no major problem. ‘However…’
Suddenly, Mak Won’s eyes blazed with light.
Crack!
He twisted aside from the masked assassin’s stealthy dagger thrust and broke the man’s arm.
Stab!
The masked man shuddered as his own blade pierced his throat, then collapsed. Dead.
Mak Won regulated his breathing once more. ‘My reaction speed is slowing, bit by bit.’
This too was the poison’s doing. Having grown larger, it would devour his energy the instant his focus wavered even slightly and expand further still.
The expanded poison tried to burst outward through his limbs, and he had to devote attention to suppressing that spread. ‘No other choice.’
He set down the thick iron coffin he carried on his back.
Thud!
It weighed a full twenty gwan. Inside were folded twelve of his favorite weapons.
Determination flashed in Mak Won’s eyes.
He drew a five-foot iron staff from the head of the coffin. Though he wielded a hundred weapons as easily as his own limbs, staff and spear techniques had been the first he mastered. Even in a crisis, they remained the most familiar.
‘Right now, survival comes first.’
He had gone through considerable trouble to create that iron coffin.
But treasuring a mere object at the cost of his life was impossible. The moment he removed it, his waist felt lighter and his steps grew easier.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
After swinging the staff a few times to loosen his wrists, he began running again.
Bang!
His speed was far greater than before.
Normally, shedding the coffin would not have created such a difference. It was proof that both his stamina and inner energy were severely depleted.
Tap tap tap!
The silver lining was that his lighter body made circulating his energy much easier.
He directed every bit of it toward suppressing the poison. The toxic energy visibly shrank. More precisely, it had been condensed, but that was enough to prevent any immediate outbursts.
How long had he run like that?
Boom!
Mak Won’s eyes flew open. ‘A cannon?!’
Intense heat surged from far to his left.
Kwaaaaang!
The fired cannon obliterated three massive trees.
Whoosh!
Greedy flames devoured the shattered prey.
Mak Won’s face twisted.
“These madmen…!”
A cannon? Had they truly mobilized artillery just to kill one man?! ‘How in the world did they bring a cannon here?!’
It was an era in which the power of the imperial palace and the government had weakened to an unprecedented degree.
Yet there were still limits and lines that should not be crossed. No matter how insane the martial world had become, one could not mobilize government cannons without permission.
Kwaang! Kwaaaaang!
It seemed they had more than one. Multiple explosions tore through the forest, mercilessly destroying everything in front of and behind him.
The sound of rushing wind! Bang!
Mak Won’s charge was dazzling.
Spinning the iron staff with one hand, he scattered flames and smoke in every direction as he surged forward.
Tap tap tap! Boom!
A massive blaze swallowed the spot where he had just been standing.
By then Mak Won had already leaped high into the air, racing across the treetops.
It was light footwork that had reached the realm of divine skill. Even while gravely wounded, his senses—reading killing intent and fire energy—continued to shine.
But even that did not last long.
‘…?!’
Faster than the cannons could track, Mak Won crossed the forest.
Suddenly, a killing intent crawled down his spine. ‘Attack… front… It’s coming!’
Mak Won thrust his iron staff straight ahead. The movement was pure instinct.
Kwaang!
With an explosion, Mak Won staggered backward.
His opponent was the same. Though they had attacked with full power in a surprise strike, the strength of the injured Mak Won was still that of a monster.
“Impressive. I thought a direct confrontation would be enough to secure victory, but it seems it will be a close thing.”
The opponent rose, brushing off one knee. Unlike the masked assassins who had attacked earlier, this man wore no face covering.
Mak Won’s face distorted.
He knew exactly who this was.
“So it was you after all.”
“You suspected?”
“I didn’t. Not until just now.”
“I see.”
“Only someone of your stature could mobilize cannons.”
“You’re mistaken. Even without me, there are many who can command the government’s artillery.”
“What?”
The man smiled.
His hair, skin, and features were entirely different from those of the Central Plains people. Golden hair that gleamed like sunlight, skin as white as snow, and long limbs all proclaimed that he came from the Western Regions.
Whoosh!
The golden flames that had poured from the man’s hand slowly died down.
“Would you like to know who else can mobilize cannons besides me?”
“…”
“Then I shall make one final offer. Come to us. Join us, and not only will you keep your life, you will receive a position higher than my own.”
“I already told you I have no interest in such things.”
“The people of this land—the so-called martial artists—are truly peculiar. Many crave wealth or women, yet they stake their lives on that thing called fame more than anything else.”
The man tilted his head.
“But even that is arbitrary. Sometimes they risk everything over complete trivialities, yet other times they refuse even if you offer them a mountain of treasure.”
“…”
“You must already know. In just a few years, we will seize control of the entire imperial palace and government. When that happens, the masters of this vast land you call the Central Plains will change.”
Mak Won glared at the man in silence.
The man nodded.
“War will come no matter who fights. You need only stand on the winning side.”
“Am I not already doing so?”
“Hm?”
Mak Won laughed coldly.
“This land is a place where people stake their lives on a single blade. Since it is a fight those people will win, why would I need to side with impostors like you?”
It was a fierce provocation.
The man gave a small chuckle.
“A pity. I thought you, not being a native of the Central Plains, might understand us. But it seems you’ve become a full-fledged martial artist in the meantime.”
Roooar!
Golden flames erupted from the man’s body. They were the flames of the Golden Emperor, carrying truly terrifying power.
Cold sweat trickled down Mak Won’s forehead.
The path forward was hopelessly blocked. He could see no way through.