Radiant Ascension Path
I'll kill every last one of them…!
I charged straight at the assassins.
My sudden rush threw them into confusion. I had pinpointed their exact positions in the darkness and moved accordingly.
But the first-rate killers recovered their composure in an instant, scattering in every direction to encircle me and hurl their hidden weapons.
Even knowing they were coming, the projectiles raining in from all sides were hard to dodge.
A massive slash erupted from the tip of my blade and swatted the incoming hidden weapons aside.
The assassins abandoned their projectiles and flung prepared nets instead.
Charna.
My vision slowed. The nets drifted downward with lazy grace. The force packed into those nets was anything but ordinary. Even with Charna active, dodging them looked impossible.
These were prepared specifically for me. No ordinary nets, then.
Ignoring them was the worst option.
A low thrum rose as I stirred the Heavenly Demon Divine Art.
My heart slammed once, hard. Demonic qi surged through my meridians. Vitality and power flooded upward.
The blade seemed to vibrate, then birthed a black sword qi. With the seal released I could freely use aura; if aura was steel, sword qi was plastic. Far from satisfying.
But more than enough to butcher these bastards!
I clenched my teeth and swung.
A black gale rose and tore straight through the front. The wind, laced with sword qi, shredded the nets to ribbons and butchered the assassins beyond them without mercy.
“Damn it. That isn’t Chamgwi Dobeop.”
“Don’t panic. Martial artists hide their true strength all the time. We just do our job.”
“…Hiding power is one thing. That is—”
The assassins fell silent. I had already leapt among them. They moved with agile precision, keeping optimal distance and relying mainly on hidden weapons.
Annoying pests.
I used Charna and accelerated in a blink. One assassin who failed to dodge lost his head. The severed head floated upward, eyes still wide. I snatched it with my left hand and hurled it like a baseball at another. The man gritted his teeth and punched his comrade’s head aside.
Two dead. The remaining assassins retreated as one, opening roughly twenty meters of space. Combat paused into a brief lull.
I focused on my breathing. Demonic qi leaked from my mouth.
No more forms or techniques from the Heavenly Demon Divine Art beyond this.
A long tail gets stepped on. Hagashi lay within Cheon Yu-un’s eyes and ears. I had to husband the Heavenly Demon Divine Art carefully. Of course this world’s Heavenly Demon Cult version was different, so even flaunting it might go unrecognized… but caution cost nothing.
Damn it. Because of the seal, using the Heavenly Demon Divine Art drains stamina and internal energy like a sieve.
The seal Mi-ryeong had placed on me was solid and subtle. Yet it possessed the trait that I could release it the moment I wished. That very trait made full power difficult.
Noecheonryu might have been manageable. The Heavenly Demon Divine Art was simply too violent. One slip and it could tear the seal free entirely.
Killing intent prickled.
Four assassins prepared their next move.
I strike first. Charna.
Using Charna. Remaining stacks: 4
The world slowed and I saw exactly what they were preparing. Two assassins had reached behind their backs and were sprinkling some liquid across the ground. I sensed something ritualistic. Nothing unusual these days. Modern assassins would use anything to kill their target—poison as a matter of course, curses without hesitation.
I lowered the tip of my blade until it touched the earth, then dragged it upward in a rising arc.
A wave of earth rose like a miniature tide and buried the assassins.
“They noticed we were laying a formation…!”
I punched through the dirt mound and killed the foremost assassin. The blade stabbed into his throat and ripped downward. Blood and entrails spilled across the soil.
I wrung out my internal energy and launched a cross-shaped sword qi. The three remaining assassins flung themselves sideways to evade. I hurled the blade still in my hand. Thud! It buried itself dead-center in one man’s forehead. I did not stop. Sprinting forward, I ripped the sword free from the corpse.
Two left.
The assassins who scrambled up exchanged glances, then split in opposite directions and fled. I pursued the one on the right first.
I cannot let them escape. Here… I have no choice but to use Noecheonryu.
Acceleration.
Charna.
Blue lightning coiled around my body as I drove the blade into the fleeing assassin’s back. It pierced his heart. Before he even finished falling I spun and raced the other way.
The last assassin ducked into an alley, clearly intending to lose me among the twists.
I have the Heavenly Eye.
The Heavenly Eye could shift viewpoint. From the sky I could look down on the fleeing man. He had no idea.
Crackling energy burst through the Yongcheon points on the soles of my feet. I kicked off the dirt and surged forward. My legs felt heavy yet my speed only climbed. Scenery blurred past. At times it felt as though something were yanking me along.
For an even faster start I used Charna again.
“……!”
My eyes flew wide. Electricity appeared before me. No—was it electricity? Something slightly different.
It connects to the direction I’m traveling. This is exactly like…
A rail. Rails had been laid along the path I was taking. As if entranced I set my feet upon them. I became lightning and raced along the rails. In barely a second I was on the assassin’s heels.
“…You used a transfer technique?!”
The stunned assassin dodged my thrust and raised his left hand for a counter. A short blade a handspan long punched through the back of his glove. Thin sword qi flickered along its edge like a coating.
But I was faster. He had to swing his arm to kill me; I could flood my body with current by will alone. That difference was decisive.
“Guaaaaaah!!”
The electrocuted assassin’s eyes rolled back. The stench of burning meat rose as his body crumpled bonelessly.
All of them dead.
I exhaled and let the tension drain from my limbs—exactly when the falling assassin’s blade moved. Charna’s stacks were spent. I scrambled backward and barely avoided the cut. The edge grazed my forearm. Blood sprayed. Fortunately the wound was shallow, little more than a nick.
“Fucking hell.”
Irritation flared at the unexpected attack. I kicked the assassin’s head. Sadly the bastard was already dead. In pure spite I carved every corpse into pieces, then returned to the inn.
More assassins might come, so I conserved Complete Recovery. Fortunately no further attack arrived.
After a deep sleep at the inn I woke with a twisted face.
Pain in my right forearm. The arm barely moves.
It was the spot the assassin’s blade had grazed yesterday. Poison must have coated that steel. I stripped off my upper clothes and checked the wound. The skin of my right forearm had turned blackish-green.
Circulating energy to expel the toxin proved impossible. This felt less like poison spreading through the whole body and more like a localized corruption of the right forearm alone.
Use Complete Recovery?
I considered, then shook my head. This might be an opportunity—the chance to draw out Chu Jeo, who was hiding at the Seon Family Manor and watching events unfold!
I’ll go to him and formally request a spar. Once he confirms my arm is compromised, he can accept.
Then, at the decisive moment, I would trigger Complete Recovery. Shock would break his stance; I would not miss that opening and would kill him.
I should prepare a victory line. “Go fuck your mother in hell.” …No, too cliché. What would be better?
I stepped out of the inn.
Yesterday exhaustion had driven me into the first open establishment I found; by daylight the place looked wretched. The floor was stained from poor cleaning, the furniture so old a light tap might snap it. Looking around I saw almost no other guests.
I descended to the first floor and sat. The waiter hurried over with quick steps.
“Young hero! You’re awake! What shall I bring for breakfast?!”
“……What’s on the morning menu?”
“Our cook’s skill is excellent. Almost anything is possible.”
“Too many words. What’s the most popular dish?”
“Guests usually order fish porridge in the morning.”
A river ran west of Hagashi, so fish dishes were common.
“One bowl of fish porridge.”
“Yes, sir! Right away!”
The waiter truly returned at once with a single bowl. Same system as soup-rice: made in bulk ahead of time and ladled out per customer.
I stared at the porridge. The appearance alone killed my appetite. I simply gazed at the bowl.
No need to force it down. I could pull food from my inventory—Yuria’s special lunchboxes that put seven-star hotel fare to shame filled the space.
Still, I usually took at least one spoonful of local food. The novelty of another world’s cuisine stirred curiosity. When I found something that suited my tongue I was delighted enough to extract the recipe from the cook.
“…….”
I raised my left arm. The waiter who had been resting against the wall immediately ran over.
“Yes, young hero. How may I help? A cup of water is one copper.”
“Taste it.”
“Pardon?”
“This fish porridge. You take the first spoonful.”
“The martial world is heartless. A true martial artist never eats carelessly. Guarding against poison is a virtue of the jianghu.”
“A virtue…?”
“Just eat. Prove there’s no poison in the porridge.”
“Whew. Understood, young hero. You’re a jianghu man to the bone, aren’t you?”
The waiter lifted a spoon and plunged it into the porridge.
“Wait.”
“Yes?”
“Who told you to eat the fish flesh? Drink the broth.”
“…Yes.”
He ate. No poison—he remained fine, expression calm.
“Satisfied now? I’ve worked inns for five years and never met anyone like you, young hero.”
“…….”
I picked up the bowl of fish porridge and dropped it on the floor.
“H-huh?! Young hero?! What are you doing! I told you there’s no poison!”
“That was an accident. Bring a new one.”
“An accident?! I clearly saw you grip the bowl and drop it! Damn it! Cleaning this is my job!”
“I said it was an accident.”
I toyed with the hilt of my sword using the barely responsive right hand. The waiter’s face went ashen; he immediately forced a smile.
“A-accidents happen to everyone. I’ll bring a fresh bowl.”
He dashed into the kitchen. I watched him. For reference, the Heavenly Eye could see through walls.
The waiter ladled porridge into a bowl with a scoop. After checking the cook’s line of sight he slipped something from his robes into the porridge.
Heh. An assassin after all. My gut said something was off.
Having survived a few assassination attempts in other worlds, my instincts for this sort of thing were sharp.
He ate the earlier porridge without issue. Took an antidote beforehand? Or a delayed-trigger poison?
Either way, it no longer mattered.
The waiter approached with the new bowl.
“Fresh fish porridge, young hero.”
“Good work.”
I seized the back of his head with my left hand and yanked his face straight down into the still-boiling porridge that had just come off the stove.
“Mmmmmmph!”
“The porridge is your last meal. Whatever you leave behind… eat it in hell.”
Lightning-fast I drew my blade and beheaded him.
A clean decapitation. Too clean. The headless torso still flailed its arms, unable to accept death.
“Kyaaaaaah!”
“Huuuuh!”
“M-murder!!”
The surroundings erupted into pandemonium in a single breath. I kicked the waiter’s torso aside and roared.
“Boss, get out here!!!”