The One Who Rises from Death
Deep in the night, a procession of ironclad figures cut through the stillness of the Imperial Palace.
Clank! Clank! Clank!
Disciplined footsteps rang through the palace grounds. Under the moonlight, armor flashed gold.
Imperial soldiers—known as the Imperial Army, or the Geumgun—advanced in a massive iron wall, heading somewhere with purpose. Their numbers came to roughly two hundred. Add the court officials lending official weight and the experts of the Eastern Depot, and the whole column carried the presence of an army marching to war.
The midnight uproar drew palace servants peeking out from every corner. Before long a tail of gawkers had attached itself, but Consort Yang, leading from the front, showed no interest in chasing them off. She wanted the entire Imperial Palace to witness the moment she publicly punished the Empress's crimes and laid bare her own rising power.
True to that intent, Consort Yang strode at the head of the column with a pride that was hard to ignore. Beside her walked a tall woman in sturdy armor, guarding her like a shadow—and raking the spectators with a look sharp enough to say she would cut down anyone who came too close.
"Cheon Su-gong."
In the middle of all that, I poked the arm of the man walking next to me.
"What is it, you brat."
Cheon Su-gong, every nerve fixed on the grave business of raiding the Emperor's wife, turned on me with clear annoyance.
"That woman in armor next to Consort Yang—who is she?"
In a world where a woman who trained martial arts could take on a hundred men, female martial artists were nothing rare in the Murim. But in the Imperial Palace, which looked down on the Murim and demanded chastity from its women, a female warrior like that was an extremely uncommon sight.
"Her? You saw her yourself last time when you were chucking that crate around."
So I supposedly knew her. The gold helmet covering most of her face made her nearly impossible to place.
"That is the Second Princess, Princess Hwajeong."
"Wha…?"
The Second Princess—wasn't she the granddaughter of the Grand Commander who held enormous sway in the Imperial Army?
I had heard the rumors of a military house that had produced generals for generations, but I never imagined a princess would put on armor and take the front line herself.
"Come to think of it, I might have caught a glimpse of her at the Garden Banquet…"
Back then the distance had been considerable, and during the crate incident everything had been too frantic. I remembered her dressed in gorgeous silks like any other royal; armored like this, she gave off an entirely different impression.
"She's a famous eccentric even inside the palace. Looks like you didn't know."
As he explained, Cheon Su-gong's mouth curled at the corner. How was I supposed to know internal palace gossip when I barely set foot here?
And true to being a commander's granddaughter—this was no empty posturing. Her bearing and gait carried the clear imprint of considerable martial skill.
"She, uh… has unique tastes."
I whispered it by sound transmission, just in case anyone overheard.
Raised watching her maternal grandfather in a military household, she must have grown up with a very different way of thinking.
"Unique? It's downright bizarre. There's already plenty of talk. Looking like that, finding a decent marriage match will be hard enough."
Fair enough. In an age that drew such hard lines between the roles of men and women, a female soldier would have sent Joseon's scholar-officials into apoplexy. Worse, a princess wearing armor, discussing logistics, and swinging weapons—it flew straight in the face of imperial etiquette and custom.
"Still looks cool to me, though."
I had heard the First Princess died young, which made Princess Hwajeong effectively the eldest daughter of the house. And an eldest daughter ought to have a bit of that valiant air about her.
"You're a strange one, you know that?"
At my claim that female soldiers were cool, Cheon Su-gong eyed me as if I were some peculiar creature.
All I felt was pity for the man who couldn't appreciate how cool this was.
"Who the hell are you people! Marching troops through the Imperial Palace in the middle of the night…!"
In that moment, a few Imperial Army soldiers on night patrol boldly blocked our path. Stationed near the Empress's palace, they were almost certainly part of the Empress faction's forces.
"Stand aside. We are on our way to suppress a band of traitors."
The Second Princess spoke coldly.
The patrol who had thrust their torches forward went deathly pale the instant they recognized her.
"P-Princess Hwajeong?"
"What are you doing here…?"
They had intercepted what looked like a suspicious unidentified force in the dead of night—only for Consort Yang and the Second Princess to appear out of nowhere. Of course they were rattled.
"Step aside. Or are you also in league with the rebels?"
"Huk—absolutely not!"
"We'll clear the way at once!"
The Grand Commander's doting on his granddaughter was famous even in the palace. Rank-and-file soldiers were not about to risk their lives against her. At her rebuke they scrambled in a panic to open the path.
"Oh, she's got presence. Even cooler than I thought?"
I must have let the thought slip out as a mutter.
"You really are a freak…"
Cheon Su-gong and a few nearby Eastern Depot agents looked at me with thoroughly unimpressed eyes.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
Having brushed aside the Empress faction's interference, our party finally reached the destination. As they drew near the place where the Crown Prince was being "revived," the troops slowed and began to conceal their presence.
This was clearly Empress faction territory—and the place where their dirty secrets lay waiting.
Princess Hwajeong, the Second Princess, drew her silver sword with a soft shing, ready to protect her mother against any unexpected turn.
"Troubleshooter of the Imperial Consort."
Under her daughter's protection, Consort Yang addressed me in a low voice.
I had a name—Dan Mujin—but to her I was apparently remembered as the Imperial Consort's troubleshooter.
"Is that location certain?"
She looked at me again, intent on personally punishing the Empress who had tried to eliminate her with a crate, and on expanding her own political standing through this affair.
"Yes, without a doubt. Open the door that leads underground and you will witness the Blood Sect's dark arts—and the Crown Prince in his bizarre condition."
Intelligence I had risked my life to obtain by infiltrating the Empress faction, enduring her capricious nature and suspicion to boot.
"Dan Mujin."
Cheon Su-gong called my name from behind. When I looked back, he pointed at the building that held the basement and went on.
"Go in first and check the situation. If anything has changed, or if they've caught on… shout if you have to, but report it at once."
Raiding the Emperor's wife without a warrant—he wanted certainty. Stir things up only to come up empty, and the foul-tempered Empress would not sit still; both Consort Yang and the Imperial Consort could find themselves in political hot water.
If you're not sure, don't bet the farm, huh.
I repeated a famous gambler's words to myself and carefully opened the door, heading into the basement.
My original duty at this hour was to stand guard over the Crown Prince's "treatment," so walking in shouldn't draw particular suspicion.
Step. Step.
But the deeper I went, the more the atmosphere felt different from usual.
A little farther in, I found a familiar figure bound to a chair, covered in blood. The signs of torture were unmistakable—it was Deputy Commander Jang Chun-sam, the ally who had helped my infiltration.
"…Ugh."
And Empress Ga Hwiryung, who had come in person to oversee the torture, fixed her gaze on me—the late arrival—together with men in black and the Embroidered Uniform Guard.
A silent pressure crushed down from those fierce eyes.
"Your Majesty the Empress's loyal subordinate, Mu-byeok, has arrived."
I tried the casual approach, but…
"So you've come, you little rat of the Imperial Consort."
Only the Empress's ice-cold voice came back.
Yeah. Looks like Jang Chun-sam cracked under torture and spilled my identity completely.
Looks like we're fucked.
Salsung coolly assessed the situation, already infected with my speech patterns.
"Tear that little rat to pieces!"
And the Empress, face twisted with venom, ordered them to rip me apart. At the same moment, Blood Sect and Embroidered Uniform Guard experts erupted with killing intent and charged me as one.
In that life-or-death instant, I roared with all my strength, just as promised.
"Eunuch uncle, help—!"
The moment my bellowing shout burst out, a racket erupted from above. The basement door slammed open with a crash as people poured in.
Clash-clash!
In the meantime I desperately parried blades and sword qi coming from every direction. Crimson trails of murderous intent cut toward my neck and vital points from all sides.
Behind you!
With Salsung's advice, I weathered this vicious dogpile as if I had eyes on the back of my head, by the skin of my teeth.
Whiiing!
A sharp whistle of air. A Blood Sectist's dagger grazed my nape—an attack so close I could smell the iron.
Slash!
Twisting my whole body to avoid a fatal wound cost me: other blades sliced and stabbed somewhere on my torso. A handful of blood sprayed, but this body forged for combat refused to stop even in crisis.
"Dan Mu-ji-in!"
I thought the furious shout was an enemy's—turns out it was Cheon Su-gong. After smashing through the door and bursting in, he came charging at me, huffing with rage.
"Not me—take those guys out first!"
"You basstaaard…! We'll settle this when it's over!"
Must be furious about the "eunuch" crack. But look—thanks to that, he had arrived on the scene faster than anyone. I dreaded the aftermath, but it was all groundwork to save my neck.
Gritting his teeth, Cheon Su-gong surged up beside me and began scattering terrifyingly fast sword-force. His blue sword qi cut across the air and dropped four Blood Sectists in a single stroke. Headless corpses rolled across the floor.
Clash-clash-clash!
Soon more Imperial Army and Eastern Depot experts joined after catching wind of the commotion, and the basement battle began to flow in an unpredictable direction.
A basement thick with blood clots and the stench of blood. Enemy and ally mixed together, shouting and trading sword strikes in a living hell.
"Dan Mujin! Dan Mu-ji-in! It's you again!"
And the Empress, who had been burning for revenge and vowing to deal with me for ages, shot me a gaze sharp as a poison needle from among the Embroidered Uniform Guard. Eyes swirling without rest with hatred and rage. At least in the killing intent she carried in her breast, she was a formidable woman who didn't lose to any Blood Sectist.
"You vile little rat! Always under different names and faces, toying with this lady!"
Well, if I came announcing my real name, she would tear my face off on the spot. Of course I had to hide my identity and keep my head down in the palace.
"What are you doing! Kill that little rat! Now!"
She roared at the Embroidered Uniform Guard and Blood Sectists alike that anyone who killed me would receive a massive reward.
"Dan Mu-ji-in!"
Then a singular Blood Sectist stepped into my path, raising a murderous sword-force.
"This insolent unbeliever dares obstruct our Cult's great work again!"
The man, reeking of blood-scent, flared crimson eyes and charged me.
"Oh for fuck's sake! Who the hell are you this time!"
"Right Dharma Protector, Nachal-gang—!"
The booming answer rang through the basement. Probably here to avenge the Left Dharma Protector whose head I had taken last time.
With eyes full of grudge he whipped up blood like throwing knives with a splash and charged, deploying blood arts.
"This vile fate that binds us…! On this spot I will take your head and sever the chain!"
Right Dharma Protector Nachal-gang, declaring he would break this blood-built cycle of enmity himself.
"That's my line! You goddamn Blood Sect bastards!"
Like cockroaches, the disgusting things showed up wherever I went.
I gritted my teeth and swung the Hell Demon-Slaying Staff with all my strength. Scarlet sword-force and pure white staff-force collided in midair.
BOOM!
Blood-red sword qi and pure-white blazing staff qi clashed violently in the air. When the two weapons met, a massive explosion and fierce energy wave swept the basement. Stone walls cracked; fragments of the ceiling rained down.
Waaaah—!
Clash-clash-clash—!
Outside, shouts mixed with the din of weapons and screams began to rise—soldiers who had noticed the disturbance at the Empress's palace must have joined the fight.
Just as the life-and-death battle was about to heat up further—
Thud.
The Crown Prince, whom everyone had essentially regarded as a vegetable, suddenly sat bolt upright in a pool of blood.
"…!"