A Trap?
Three hours later.
The ten people who had departed from the Asura Sword Sect's main headquarters arrived at the Jangam Branch.
They were the new branch members of Jangam, which had become the Asura Sword Sect's newest territory.
They entered the Jangam Branch grounds with their faces wound tight with tension, and the moment they caught sight of the three men waiting there, they dropped to their knees on the spot.
"We greet the Branch Master!"
There was no need to study their voices, no need to scrutinize anyone's face or attire. The sheer presence radiating off the man was overwhelming — strikingly handsome features, and eyes sharp as blades.
The aura of a supreme expert that could not be hidden no matter how hard one tried.
That man was the Brutal Demon who was currently setting the entire Murim ablaze.
The Brutal Demon spoke briefly.
"Welcome."
Even his voice carried a weight of majesty.
Yi Do himself gave no outward sign of it — he wasn't even aware of it — but to ordinary martial artists, Yi Do was not simply a madman. He was the protagonist of a legend being written into myth.
He was about to turn eighteen, and yet at seventeen he was already a grandmaster of the Ogijowon realm.
Granted, the Asura Sword Sect had its share of Ogijowon masters now, but not a single one of them had achieved such accomplishments, or reached that realm, at Yi Do's age.
His future stretched open and boundless before him.
And that man had chosen them as branch members.
It could be nothing less than an honor — the mere sight of him was enough to make their hearts pound.
Meeting their awed gazes, Yi Do spoke in a level voice.
"Before the introductions, I'll tell you what you must engrave into your minds first."
"We will listen attentively!"
"Listen well. I don't care who you pledge loyalty to. Whoever ordered you to do something behind my back, or behind anyone else's — I won't concern myself with it. That's what I'm saying."
At Yi Do's words, every branch member sealed their lips at once.
They understood exactly what he meant.
Yi Do continued.
"But do not lure a fellow branch member into a trap. Do not strike them from behind. And obey my orders absolutely. If any of this displeases you, turn around and leave now."
No one left.
"Good. Then from this moment on, you are members of the Jangam Branch."
The ten branch members assumed the fist-in-palm salute.
"Thank you for accepting us!"
After studying them for a moment, Yi Do introduced Un Dohyeon and Myeong Hyeon. Un Dohyeon was officially the Vice Branch Master. Myeong Hyeon's position was rather ambiguous — officially he was a branch member, but one who answered solely to Yi Do's orders.
In truth, it would have been awkward under any circumstance for Un Dohyeon of the Three Harmonies realm to give orders to Myeong Hyeon of the Ogijowon realm. But appointing Myeong Hyeon Vice Branch Master wouldn't work either — his role was far too independent for that.
This arrangement was the right one.
Then one of the branch members handed Yi Do a large bundle.
Inside were half a month's worth of training resources, twenty Sura Pills, a single red mission scroll and a single black one, and three white scrolls.
Yi Do skimmed through them lightly and let out a short, dry laugh.
"Read them."
Once the two men had read every scroll handed to Yi Do, their expressions shifted strangely.
"It seems the Master of the Sura Pavilion intends to dump all the missions that have piled up on us at once."
That much, they could agree with.
The meaning behind each scroll's color was simple. Black meant a matter requiring investigation. Red meant a confrontation was likely, but there was no need to handle it urgently. White meant a confrontation was likely and it had to be dealt with immediately.
Myeong Hyeon and Un Dohyeon wore expressions that said nothing about this seemed wrong.
In this entire situation, only one man felt something was off.
It was instinct, built upon every experience Yi Do had lived through.
And that instinct was rejecting this situation as fundamentally malformed.
Why now, of all times?
Say they had spent all this time ignoring official missions and manufacturing their own work out of sheer willfulness — even so, why now?
An armed clash with the Sky-Sundering Fist Sect was expected. From here on, a political chaos no one could predict would unfold — and yet they chose this exact moment to hand down five missions?
He could understand it.
But sending them out and about at a time like this was strange.
"Myeong Hyeon."
"Yes, Branch Master."
"Deliver the black scroll to the Heaven Inquiry Pavilion and the lower pavilion."
"They'll need time to process it as well — how should I phrase the emphasis that it's a time-critical matter?"
"Do it however you see fit."
Myeong Hyeon took the black scroll and flashed a grin.
"Then I'll be off."
Yi Do nodded and turned to Un Dohyeon.
"Un Dohyeon."
"Yes, my lord."
"Issue one Sura Pill to each branch member."
Un Dohyeon showed no surprise at those words — but the branch members were another matter.
They were, genuinely, staggered.
Astonished to the point of disbelief.
They too belonged to the Asura Sword Sect. As disciples of the Sect Leader's line, some had already served in other branches, and even those who hadn't had heard the stories.
Sura Pills, the reward for completing missions, were almost always devoured entirely by the Branch Master and Vice Branch Master. Sharing them with ordinary branch members was, frankly, uncommon — rare enough that the word was no exaggeration.
"Th-thank you!!"
All ten branch members answered as one, and Yi Do waved a hand as if it were nothing. Elixir pills were precious, certainly — but these people were, for now, his own.
He was the one who gave the orders; they were the ones who carried them out.
Within that kind of relationship, there was no reason to hoard.
When his subordinates grew stronger, Yi Do's own work became easier — and in that spirit, he was truly generous to his own people.
Though if they betrayed him, he would show no mercy.
Un Dohyeon distributed the Sura Pills and ordered the members to descend underground and perform their energy circulation exercises.
The ten branch members left their posts in unison.
Only two men remained.
"Un Dohyeon."
"Yes, my lord."
"We settle everything today. The ones below will depart the instant they finish their circulation, so chart the route."
"Understood."
Before long, Myeong Hyeon returned, the ten branch members below completed their circulation, and Un Dohyeon charted the route.
Cloaks donned and weapons readied, every member of the Jangam Branch stepped out of the branch grounds with Yi Do at the center.
Their destination —
Guryongjin, where a red scroll and a white scroll overlapped.
One month earlier.
Wi Mi-ran, a newly admitted disciple of the Asura Sword Sect, had traveled to her hometown of Guryongjin.
Her family, to be honest, was not a martial clan. For generations they had run a single courtesan house — but that house was enormous, large enough to make them a family of considerable standing in Guryongjin.
The house was called the Honghwa Tower.
It employed twenty registered courtesans, sixteen trainee entertainers, and three cooks.
Wi Mi-ran, the eldest daughter of the Honghwa Tower, was found dead in a pond near Guryongjin the day after she arrived home.
Her body bore a broken neck, she was naked, and the traces of forced violation were unmistakable.
Wi Ji-gong, the master of the Honghwa Tower, reported the matter straight to the Asura Sword Sect and requested that the truth be uncovered.
To be fair, everything has its proper order, so Wi Ji-gong had first petitioned the government office of Guryongjin — and was, in vulgar terms, brushed off. Hence the appeal to the Asura Sword Sect.
Investigators of the Sura Pavilion residing at the main headquarters were dispatched to Guryongjin, and they uncovered the truth of the matter.
Two suspects emerged as the strongest candidates.
One was Hwi-yeon, a courtesan of the Honghwa Tower who had jealously resented Wi Mi-ran; the other was San Pung-du, the young master of the San Clan, who had chased after Wi Mi-ran since childhood.
The investigators laid out two possibilities: either San Pung-du had acted alone, or Hwi-yeon, manipulating San Pung-du, had committed murder by proxy.
This case was classified white.
And there was the red one.
This was the important one.
Some time ago, the San Clan had discovered a hidden grotto on Mount Muryong, near Guryongjin — and ever since that discovery, the San Clan had risen to become the foremost family in Guryongjin.
This was only natural. To become the hegemon of a region, one's hands had to be stained with a great deal of blood.
San Pung-du had made himself the center of the San Clan and gone after every soul in Guryongjin who had ever slighted or despised him, killing them all — and word was that his methods had been excessively cruel.
Severing limbs. Tearing out heads.
Yi Do had done such things many times himself, though he had never once drunk a man's blood.
That was it.
San Pung-du drank human blood.
That was the background behind the Asura Sword Sect's investigation.
The investigators had headed first to the grotto the San Clan claimed to have discovered, and there — though the traces had been scrubbed away — they found several remnants.
Their conclusion: the master of this grotto was unquestionably Hwa Ung, the Blood Rain Sword Demon, who had once drenched the Murim of the Kingdom of Jeok in blood.
He was a demon among demon-heads, and Hwa Ung's defining trait was that he always drank the blood of those he killed.
That was the hallmark of his martial art, the Blood Sucking Divine Art — Hwa Ung converted the qi contained within human blood into internal power, making him an undeniable demon through and through.
That was the investigators' conclusion, and because San Pung-du had recently secluded himself within the San Clan's estate, they had marked this mission's classification red in order to confirm it beyond all doubt.
Of course, the investigators could have investigated and resolved the matter themselves — but their martial strength was not particularly impressive.
The position of investigator had always been filled by men recruited from the ranks of government patrol officers, and their realms were, at best, Oryong Peak Perfection. Most sat at the Jucheon Realm or Yanggwang Dual Radiance — resolving such a matter in person was beyond them.
"My lord."
At Un Dohyeon's call, Yi Do turned his head.
"Where shall we begin?"
Yi Do had already decided.
"Take the branch members to the Honghwa Tower and interrogate Hwi-yeon."
"Understood."
"Myeong Hyeon, you follow me."
"Yes, sir."
Yi Do headed for the San Clan's estate with only Myeong Hyeon at his side.
The moment they passed through the entrance, Yi Do's brow furrowed.
A beat later, Myeong Hyeon's brow furrowed too.
It couldn't be helped.
The gate was half open, for one. And from beyond it wafted a stench of blood so thick it stung the nostrils.
The two men threw the gate wide without hesitation and stepped inside.
Two martial artists lay dead where they had evidently been guarding the entrance, their heads severed clean off. They entered the courtyard proper — and found roughly forty corpses.
Every death was different.
Some had died with their hearts blasted clean through. Some had been torn limb from limb. Some had their heads wrenched from their necks, and others had been cleaved into three or four pieces.
"Examine the bodies."
"Yes, sir."
Having given the order, Yi Do proceeded silently into the main building itself.
The cooks, the porters, the escort guards — and then,
what were almost certainly members of the San Clan's own family: a young child and a woman.
And wrapped around them protectively even in death, a man of truly massive frame.
Yi Do surveyed his surroundings with an expression devoid of feeling. The bloodstains were vivid.
And vivid bloodstains meant one thing: their placement was immaculate, without a single wasted spatter.
Traces like these appeared only when a master of a far higher realm slaughtered those of a lower one.
That realm was —
minimum, Ogijowon.
No — the Harmony Realm.
A master of that caliber had killed every one of these people.
The corpses outside, the corpses here. Every single one of them.
The torn-out heads, the severed limbs, the bodies split into three and four pieces — all of it had been done casually.
Far more than malice or anything of the kind, it was achingly clear that it had all been done for fun.
Yi Do turned and moved through the building, opening door after door to check the interior.
Several people lay face down, run through from behind — whether they had been hiding or not, there was no way to know.
Nothing more needed to be said.
The clan had been annihilated. Completely.
When they came back outside, Myeong Hyeon — who had been studying the corpses with a grave expression — looked up at Yi Do.
"...Branch Master. I think we've walked into a trap."
"On what reasoning?"
Myeong Hyeon's expression remained composed. He let out a long sigh before answering.
"Every one of these bodies was killed by the Ink Dragon Asura Art."
That was right. The Ink Dragon Asura Art.
The name of the demonic art taught to Myeong Hyeon and the other shadows of the Imperial Sword Sect.
One place remained unchecked — the storehouse. Yi Do headed there, and the grave-faced Myeong Hyeon followed.
Yi Do opened the door.
There was a body lying dead in there as well.
"...Judging by the appearance, that would be San Pung-du. Given the wound through his neck, the killer would have been... are you alright, sir?"
That last question was naturally directed at Yi Do.
It was a fair question to ask.
Yi Do's expression had gone rigid.
Yi Do crossed the room, seized San Pung-du by the hair, and examined the wound carved into his throat.
His eyes had not deceived him.
Yi Do's expression had every reason to freeze over.
The mark that had pierced through San Pung-du's neck.
It was unquestionably Kunlun's Taeheo Doryong Sword.
"How amusing."
To anyone who didn't know the truth, the picture was perfect: Myeong Hyeon, practitioner of a demonic art, had slaughtered the San Clan with monstrous cruelty — and Yi Do, wielding his signature Kunlun sword art, had cut down San Pung-du.
And why was this a problem? Why was it a trap?
Because it could be manufactured into an accusation.
A cold smile crept across Yi Do's lips.
It was colder than any smile he had ever worn before.
Someone was speaking to him.
Behave yourselves.
We know every one of your martial arts.
And making you criminals in the eyes of the Murim would be laughably easy.
So watch your step.
This method was all too familiar to Yi Do.
In the past — during those years when he'd been branded a criminal of the Murim — he had tasted it many, many times before.