Old Grudges
It felt as if I had stepped straight into the middle of a battlefield where swords and blades flashed without end.
Through the choking haze of dust, Murim Alliance fighters poured everything they had into holding back the Blood Cultists who charged them with murderous abandon.
"Die!"
I was locked in a fight of my own against a Blood Cultist who specialized in some grotesque blood art. The man dragged a blade across his own arm, drew out a stream of blood, and flung the droplets like a volley of finger-shot projectiles.
"What the hell is that supposed to be?!"
No matter how many times I saw it, the sight never got any less grotesque. I launched myself clear of the rain of crimson points. Ducking low and sliding under the spray on my lower body, I watched the enemy's attack drum uselessly into the dirt with a rapid pabak-pabak.
Pung!
The instant his eyes locked on me, Ilhong unleashed a storm of hidden weapons. The Blood Cultist made a choked sound as the extreme poison sank into every inch of him, then collapsed, his body turning black. Ilhong darted in and finished him with the fist techniques she had learned from Hwang Geolgae.
"Boss! Got one!"
She was roughly at the Second-class Realm, but with those surprise weapons of hers she was fighting at First-class level.
"Nice work!"
Through the billowing dust I shouted back while batting aside every trajectory of killing intent that reached for me with my staff. The Dog Beating Staff Technique—meant for thrashing beasts that only looked human—combined with the monstrous strength of the Heavenly Killing Star, and the wet sound of flesh bursting under unarmored blows rang out without pause.
"Keuk!"
"Kkuk!"
They had wanted the explosion to sow chaos, but the more the field of vision clouded, the clearer the trajectories of killing intent became. The Heavenly Killing Star was the only one gaining from it. I deliberately dove into the thickest clouds of dirt and dust, using that advantage to tear through every direction like a storm.
"They're using blood arts!"
The front line was holding, but the Righteous Corps members—facing the Blood Cult for the first time in their lives—shouted in mixed panic from every quarter. They were struggling against an attack style that was neither swordplay nor fists, something that came flying at them like thrown weapons. Even so, they refused to break. True to their name as pillars of the orthodox Murim Alliance, they held their ground and kept the enemy at bay.
When it became clear the cultists were not going to give ground, they traded looks and began fishing something else out of their robes.
"Ilhong, what did you say they bought last time?"
"Uh, thunder bombs and poison bombs, I think…"
"Damn it."
Of course the Murim terrorists would only ever carry the most vicious toys. Before the Righteous Corps could be swept away, I kicked off hard.
My form blurred. Midway across the battlefield a strange footwork technique bloomed right in front of me. The cultists who had been about to hurl the poison bombs froze, eyes going wide.
Peopeopeopeong—!
I flew like a swallow cutting water and detonated every single poison bomb in midair. Thick clouds of toxic powder erupted overhead as if flour sacks had burst open.
"Returning these."
The way a high-level martial artist might project sword wind, I spun the long staff like a windmill and whipped up a gale. The poison mist rode the reverse wind and went right back the way it had come.
"W-wait!"
"What kind of brute force—!"
"Kraaaagh!"
That was the textbook definition of reaping what you sow. Hit by their own reverse wind, the cultists coughed blood from eyes and mouths and toppled one after another. The mist soon thinned as it spread through the air and lost most of its potency, but those already poisoned showed no sign of rising from the ground.
"Ghh… you bastard…"
"…A Dang Clan martial artist? Grrk."
They trembled and glared up at me with eyes full of deep-rooted poison.
"Boss! Are you okay?!"
The second I did something insane like diving straight into a rain of poison bombs, Ilhong—who had been frozen in shock—finally came running.
"Do I look okay? My whole body hurts."
The Heavenly Killing Star's physique was not immune to poison. It simply regenerated faster than the poison could destroy it. I watched the vivid red aura rising from every inch of my skin. It must have been genuinely dangerous this time; the crimson light was fiercer than I had ever seen it.
"You're completely insane! Who even thinks of jumping into that?!"
When a thin trail of blood ran from the corner of my mouth as I answered, Ilhong recoiled and started scolding me in earnest.
"If I hadn't, those people would have taken the poison instead."
I jerked my chin toward the Righteous Corps fighters behind me. They were the kind of people who refused to retreat even when the situation turned against them and kept fighting to the end. I couldn't just stand by and watch them get wiped out for nothing. And from the way an indescribable energy was tickling inside my chest, the Seongun Simbeop seemed to agree wholeheartedly.
"This is exactly why Lady Dang Yeohye keeps getting so curious about your body."
She had a point there.
"Ugh."
Dizziness hit me a beat late—probably a side effect of the body repairing itself. Feeling the strength drain out of me, I didn't fight it and simply dropped where I stood.
"Aigoo, I'm dying here."
It was the same bone-deep exhaustion that used to hit after about an hour of hard labor. Even the Heavenly Killing Star's flesh, it seemed, could not regenerate and supply energy without limit.
"Young hero! Are you all right?!"
The moment I sat down, several people cried out in alarm. Realizing I had thrown myself into the fray to save them, the Righteous Corps members and their captain came running at full speed.
"I'm fine. Probably not going to die."
I waved them off with the classic last words of men everywhere. Captain Gwangson checked my color—which, to be fair, was not that bad—and let out a disbelieving little laugh.
"Heh. I wondered how someone who couldn't even project qi managed to beat the Minor Thunderbolt Sword… turns out you really do have something extraordinary in you, young hero."
The surrounding fighters nodded as if seeing me in a new light. Because I had torn apart the Heaven and Earth Wave Flash Sword with the Heavenly Killing Eyes open, most people assumed Moyong Hwi had simply been in poor condition and gone down without a fight. That damn "Lucky Seven, Skill Three" nickname of mine—first impressions really were last impressions. It stuck like glue.
"Captain Gwangson! We found these inside their robes!"
One of the fighters who had been finishing off the neutralized cultists held up a black pill wrapped in multiple layers of cloth and called out.
"It looks like an antidote!"
"Then give one to this young hero, and keep a few of the others alive with the rest. We need people left to face judgment and answer questions."
"Yes, sir!"
On that order, most of the remaining Blood Cultists had their throats cut. Even as they died they muttered things about "the great cause" and "blood arts"—unsettling to the last.
"Dan Mujin, was it? Thank you, young hero. Because of you we avoided unnecessary losses."
Captain Gwangson offered a crisp, formal fist-and-palm salute of gratitude.
"We help each other and keep living, right?"
"Young hero, do you have an affiliation? Which sect are you from?"
"Sect's a little complicated. Affiliation-wise I'm just a wandering vagabond."
His eyes lit up at my answer.
"Then if you ever consider joining the Murim Alliance later, come to our Righteous Corps. This Gwangson will welcome you with open arms."
He went on at length praising the kind of chivalrous spirit I had shown diving through the poison bombs, insisting the Righteous Corps needed people like that.
"The Demon Extermination Squad already made me that offer first."
The moment I mentioned Moyong Cheonghye, the captain's face twisted with pure distaste and he shook his head hard.
"That murder-crazed woman… ahem. Anyway, you do not go to a place that has someone like her. Our unit is far more stable, and promotion is quicker too. Think it over."
Apparently the Evil-Slaying Divine Maiden's reputation was infamous even among the Alliance captains.
"Yes, I'll give it some thought for now."
He was another person it would not hurt to stay on good terms with—same as Moyong Cheonghye. I left the door open while politely declining for the present.
"Captain Gwangson! A beacon calling for aid has gone up from headquarters!"
Just then fighters pointed urgently toward the Murim Alliance main compound and shouted. It seemed the Blood Cult was determined to settle a thirty-year-old grudge in full.
"Looks like we have to go. Young hero, are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes. I just need a moment to rest."
Even now roughly seventy percent of my strength had already returned. When I circulated the Seongun Simbeop, the crimson energy and the pale white energy crackled against each other across my skin like they were locked in a silent war.
"Understood. Recover well, and if fate allows we'll meet again. Until then!"
The fact that they had lit a beacon meant the fighting at headquarters was just as fierce. Captain Gwangson promised a next time and led his people away at a run.
"Boss, you sure get popular with important people in weird ways."
Ilhong watched them go and muttered. From Eun Hwaran the merchant leader to Princess Dohwa, the captains of both the Demon Extermination Squad and the Righteous Corps—she found the whole pattern downright mysterious.
"Yeah, I get that a lot."
I shrugged. Back in my troubleshooter days plenty of high-ranking folks with gold badges used to come looking for me too—usually to dig up some rival politician's scandals or dirty laundry.
"Boss. Boss."
She still didn't seem convinced, so she started tapping my arm.
"Just accept it. The irresistible charm of Dan Mujin."
"No, that's not it. They're coming again."
She pointed at a fresh group of Blood Cultists approaching with murder written all over them. They must have been heading for Alliance headquarters, spotted the corpses of their comrades scattered here, and changed course. They poured out a blazing red killing intent, clearly intent on avenging their dead.
"Shit."
I had only signed up for the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering to collect the bounty and get my name out there. How had it turned into this circus? These bastards really never ran out of people to throw at us.
"Boss, can we win?"
She asked with a hidden weapon in one hand and a cultist's sword in the other.
"Well… I can fight, at least."
Alone, I could probably take the beating and the stabbing and claw my way to a win through sheer stubbornness. But in my current state I had no confidence I could win while also protecting Ilhong. If I had been given just half a ke more, every last scrap of strength would have returned.
Kill!
And of course the Heavenly Killing Star, blissfully ignorant of the actual situation, was screaming for me to slaughter every last one of them.
"Boss, don't worry about me. I don't want to be dead weight."
She must have read the unease in my eyes. Cornered, Ilhong reset her grip on the sword with the look of someone who had made up her mind.
"Stop talking nonsense. If it looks like I'm going down, you run like you always do."
The professional escape artist was suddenly talking about staking her life. It was almost endearing how she only got like this when things actually got serious.
"So it was you! The one who cut down our brothers here…!"
"The blood debt of our fallen comrades! We will take your head as payment!"
They announced they would drain every drop of blood from my body to soothe the souls of the dead. Faces like malevolent demons, they charged all at once. I pulled every scrap of internal energy from my dantian and steeled myself.
Taat!
Then, from behind the cultists, a figure shot forward. At the same instant a lightning-fast sword flashed through the air.
Seogeok—
Three heads spun into the sky. The sword art was so extreme that their faces still wore expressions that had not yet registered they had been cut.
"Th-the Evil-Slaying Di—! Keuk!"
Shwiik! Piiing!
One who had started to shout her epithet lost his head mid-word and sprayed blood. A storm of blue sword qi followed, and the remaining cultists were carved apart like slabs of meat. Her lightning-swift sword blazed in every direction as she tore through them.
"Like I told you last time—Moyong Hwi isn't the real treasure of the Moyong Clan. She is."
Ilhong sounded almost giddy at the appearance of the female martial artist she so admired.
After cutting down even the last one who had tried to leap away and flee, the slender high-level expert landed lightly beside me, high ponytail swaying.
"Just as I thought…"
Her eyes, glittering like black pearls, fixed on me—the same gaze that always seemed to place far too much expectation on my shoulders.
"I knew that if it was you, young hero, you would still be here fighting instead of running."
Vice Captain of the Demon Extermination Squad, Moyong Cheonghye, surveyed the cultist corpses scattered around me and gave a small nod of acknowledgment.
"I didn't take all of them down myself, though."
Having people think too highly of you was exhausting in its own way, so I made sure she knew the achievement belonged to the Righteous Corps as well. Moyong Cheonghye narrowed her eyes and asked something sharp.
"Don't tell me… that captain made you some kind of offer?"
I hadn't said a word, yet her instincts were razor-sharp.
"Yes. He told me to join the Righteous Corps."
"Young hero. You must not go to the side of someone so weak they show mercy even to the wicked."
The moment she heard I had been scouted, Moyong Cheonghye's eyes turned faintly terrifying.
"Yes, well, let's go with that."
A little cowed, I immediately answered that I would not be going. As someone who had been stabbed by her once before, it was pure instinct.
"Excellent."
A satisfied smile touched her lips at my reply. Not that it mattered—I planned to open my own office anyway and had no intention of joining either of them.
"By the way, young hero… do you know where Clan Lord Moyong Cheon is?"
Moyong Cheonghye kept one eye on the beacon still burning over Alliance headquarters as she asked. Come to think of it, she had come running from the same direction as the cultists earlier. She must have seen the distress signal and been racing for the main compound herself.
"That guy? When his son started losing he just shook his head and left."
Things had not gone the way he wanted, and he had looked thoroughly displeased. He had walked out even though the duel was not finished.
"Young hero… don't tell me you actually won?"
"Yes. That's what happened."
She looked genuinely surprised. She had taught me Moyong Clan martial arts herself, yet she must have still been half-doubtful. With a faintly startled expression she pressed on.
"Then do you also know where Moyong Hwi is?"
"The physicians carried him off. He's probably at the medical hall."
At that she glanced toward the medical hall—which lay in the exact opposite direction from Alliance headquarters. She looked once that way, then at the still-desperately burning beacon, and bit down hard on her red lower lip.
"Young hero. I found Hye Seung, and I also learned what they're after."
Oh, so she had managed to track down that bald monk after all. Having Ma Jungcheon and the Beggar Sect disciples join her must have helped.
"What they want from this raid is the Heavenly Sword and Thunder Sword families—the ones who fought so brilliantly in the Great War against the Blood Cult."
Her own family was one of their targets. Even knowing that, she said, she was still vice captain of the Demon Extermination Squad. The moment a beacon went up she had a duty to race to headquarters.
"So I have a favor to ask of you, young hero."
A slow, uneasy feeling began to crawl up my spine.
"…What kind of favor, exactly?"
She was staring in the direction opposite the main compound. I asked while desperately hoping it was not what I thought. If it had been the Heavenly Sword side I might have considered it, but I honestly wanted nothing to do with the Thunder Sword side that had thrown me away.
"Moyong Hwi… please save my worthless little brother."
The Evil-Slaying Divine Maiden—who supposedly never showed even a shred of mercy before the wicked—seized my hand with both of hers and begged me, face full of desperate earnestness, to save the older brother that Moyong Cheongjin had hated more than anyone.