Scoundrel: Jongchil 21
"Sorry to interrupt when you're having fun, but that's about enough."
A distorted voice leaked from the mouth behind the black mask, impossible to pin down its owner. The flat tone concealed not just emotions but even the speaker's gender.
It was the power of the Black Mask. Wearing it made it impossible to tell if the user was male or female. Nothing beat it for hiding one's identity.
"Huh!? Who the hell are you!?"
The assassin referred to as "hyung" pointed his sword at me, the sudden intruder, in exaggerated panic.
How shocked must he have been to have an outsider breach his own qi-based formation?
His reaction was perfectly reasonable.
"You're the type who won't reveal your own identity even on pain of death, yet you're prying into mine? Hilarious."
"Tch! I don't know how you slipped into this formation, but die!"
The assassin drew his sword and charged at me like lightning. True to his trade, his reaction speed was lightning-fast—specialized for ambushes, with peerless velocity.
Too bad for him, it didn't work on me.
'Light Saber.'
I formed a blade of light in my right hand. Having already predicted his attack, my response was swift.
The assassin's straight thrust was sharp as lightning but honest. It seemed to compensate for its straightforward trajectory's weakness with overwhelming speed—a sword art suited for killers. But against someone like me, who could swing faster than an assassin, it was useless.
Clang!
A sharp, glass-shattering ring echoed loudly. The assassin's ambush had failed.
"What!? N-No way, a Heart Sword!?"
The younger brother assassin gaped at the Light Saber. Not just him—Yeonmuk, slumped on the ground, and Namgung Hyeok, gasping for breath, also widened their eyes in surprise. They'd wildly misinterpreted the Light Saber.
But their expressions normalized at the elder brother's shout.
"Tricks like that don't work on me! The Heart Sword is a legendary technique wielded only by peak Present Realm masters! As if a punk like you could use it!"
Cold, rational judgment. The elder assassin seemed far more experienced and mentally mature than his brother. If he'd panicked prematurely, things might've gone even smoother for me, but my luck didn't stretch that far.
"Y-Yeah! It must be some trick!"
The younger brother was the obedient type, hanging on his hyung's every word. He quickly regained his composure.
"Indeed... I don't feel the overwhelming presence of the legendary Heart Sword I've only heard about."
Namgung Hyeok muttered as much. I'd hoped to bluff them, but it seemed pointless against experts of this caliber.
Disappointing, but no big deal. I could crush these assassin bastards without a Heart Sword anyway.
"If it's not a Heart Sword, does that change anything?"
At my words, the elder assassin smirked and assumed a stance. Tension flickered in his eyes, but he didn't let it show lightly. I couldn't tell if he sensed the gap between us.
The younger one drew his sword on me too.
"Haha! You think a clown using such a lame trick can take on us brothers?"
"Hyung! Let's kill him quick!"
"Right you are, dongsaeng."
As the elder's words ended, a thick fog began enveloping the area, blocking my vision. It was the same mist that had flustered Namgung Hyeok and Yeonmuk earlier.
Inside this formation, they could manipulate the fog at will. And they could see through it freely.
'Wind Control!'
I had countless ways to blow away annoying fog like this. The most straightforward? Wind, of course.
Whoooosh!
A razor-sharp gale created new air currents. The sudden atmospheric shift threw the two assassins into major panic—more than when I'd first appeared.
"What the—?!"
"Hyung! Could that bastard be using sorcery!?"
"Sorcery!? Damn it! Did he infiltrate our formation with sorcery too!? He's a dangerous foe if left alive! Dongsaeng! Let's go!"
"Yes, hyung!"
Realizing the fog was useless, the pair sprang at me like coiled springs on their soles. A pincer attack slicing from left and right. Their coordination was blatant but excellent—clearly the result of extensive practice.
Vmmm!
I poured more mana into the Light Saber, expanding it to greatsword size. Then I tilted it diagonally, blocking both needle-sharp assaults at once.
The assassins' strikes were seasoned and sharp, but not impossible to parry. Their power lagged behind their speed—a chronic weakness for ambush specialists.
Clang!
The elder struck first, the younger clashing swords to pin me down. The idea was to hold me while the elder prepared his next move. Their style specialized in joint assaults.
Sharp qi emanated from the elder's blade. Both assassins were skilled enough to wield sword qi.
"Say goodbye to your neck!"
The elder's exquisite strike targeted my throat. With my sword locked by his brother's, nothing guarded against it. He must've thought my head would roll, spurting blood, in the next instant.
Of course, that was his delusion.
Shiiik!
The blood assassin's sword qi sliced empty air. Reading his trajectory to the very last moment, I tilted my head aside to dodge. The elder's blade carved into his brother's right shoulder, who was straining to block my sword.
"Gaaahk!"
"D-Dongsaeng!"
The younger assassin's sword dropped as he grappled with me. I immediately swung the Light Saber. Target: his left shoulder.
Splurt!
A gash opened on the younger assassin's left shoulder, blood gushing as his arm flew off. I diced the airborne limb into ten pieces midair.
"Kaaaaahk! Hyung!"
Both shoulders severed, the younger assassin collapsed screaming. Fury blazed in the elder's eyes at the sight.
"You bastard! I'll kill you!"
He closed into my range with ferocious speed. As with enraged fighters, his power and velocity grew more threatening, but his attacks simplified. Nothing's easier to deflect than simple strikes.
'Mana Sword.'
Mana Sword 3Lv (C-grade)
Consumes mana to coat the blade with a mana edge. The more mana invested, the stronger the edge—but efficiency drops off.
I infused mana into the Light Saber. Originally a blade of mana, adding another mana edge massively boosted its destructive power.
I met the assassin's monotonous yet ferocious strikes head-on. No need to hold back with straight-up swordplay.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
The assassin channeled qi into his sword too, forming sword qi. But the gap between us was clear. With every clash, his sword qi wavered and deformed, while my mana sword held firm.
Moreover, the assassin—who'd been bellowing in rage and pressing forward—began getting pushed back. Sensing his disadvantage, his face shifted from fury to bewilderment.
"Urk! Who the hell are you!? Why are you screwing with our plans!?"
"None of your business."
Splurt!
I severed the assassin's right leg as he exposed an opening. He toppled clumsily, letting out a louder groan of agony than his brother. He even dropped his sword from the shock.
"Gaaaaahk!"
"Arms for the brother, legs for the elder. What a lovey-dovey pair of cripples."
I neatly sliced off his left leg too. He was now completely immobile.
"Hyung!"
The younger assassin, barely clinging to consciousness amid pain, screamed for his brother. I stomped his skull repeatedly.
"Guhk!"
"Fitting end for an assassin, don't you think?"
"Khuk! Our Holy Sect will surely avenge us against you!"
Holy Sect, huh? Just as I suspected—lackeys of the Yeongwol Divine Cult. No surprise there.
I slashed his upper clothes with my sword. Sure enough, a small butterfly tattoo adorned his shoulder.
'Looks like the Yeongwol Divine Cult's planning to stir up chaos in Hanam. Perfect for igniting murim conflicts amid the Yongho Clan's turf war.'
With their identities and motives sussed out, no reason to keep them breathing.
Still, killing them outright felt boring. I walked over to the fallen Yeonmuk.
"Wh-Who are you?"
Yeonmuk eyed me warily, refusing to relax.
From her perspective, I was as untrustworthy as the assassins littering the ground. The mask hid my face completely, and my voice was unnervingly warped.
I was about to say something to Yeonmuk when Namgung Hyeok suddenly pointed his sword at me from behind.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Namgung Hyeok ignored my question and addressed Yeonmuk instead.
"Yeon Sojeo, step away from him first."
"Y-Yes...!"
Yeonmuk stood and backed off a few paces. Only then did Namgung Hyeok speak to me.
"I'm truly grateful for the rescue. Sorry to repay you like this, but understand. You're too suspicious for mere thanks."
"Is this the righteous faction's way?"
"It's the murim way. In murim, you trust no one."
Namgung Hyeok slowly lowered his sword. But he hadn't dropped his guard—in fact, he radiated even thicker wariness than before.
"I am Namgung Hyeok, second son of the Namgung Family. That is Yeonmuk Sojeo, direct disciple of Mount Hua Sect. We thank you for saving us."
He spoke without bowing.
His expression demanded my introduction in return. I ignored it, so he voiced his own intent.
"Who are you?"
"Guess."
I countered with a question. Namgung Hyeok fixed me with cold eyes and slowly replied.
"A mysterious figure wielding bizarre artifacts impossible to discern... Not many like that in the Central Plains."
Namgung Hyeok raised his lowered sword again.
"You're not the Twin Black Fiends, are you?"