Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 41
>Chapter Title: Assassination (3)
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The first attack had caught me so off guard that I didn't have a moment to even see who it was.
But while blocking the second assault, I realized the truth.
At a glance, the moves looked similar, but they were subtly different from Third Senior Brother's.
I'd sparred with Third Senior Brother dozens of times under his guidance, and he'd even demonstrated the Shadowless Fourteen Hands for me several times as an example.
So, this guy wasn't Third Senior Brother gone berserk. He was a real assassin here to kill me.
‘Why me?’
The question flashed through my mind, but now wasn't the time to dwell on it.
Slash!
Survival came first, above all else.
I retreated just as he lunged, but I was still a beat too slow—my chest got lightly sliced.
And there was nowhere left to fall back to.
‘Damn it.’
The moment my back hit the wall, he dove in for the kill, swinging his sword.
I boldly abandoned my broken blade.
I flung the sword—now just half a blade clutched in my right hand—straight at him.
And the instant he twisted aside to easily dodge it.
This time, I poured internal energy into my left hand and swung.
Whoosh!
The half-blade still stuck in the scabbard, which I hadn't managed to draw, shot toward him like a hidden weapon.
Clang!
He hadn't seen that one coming. While he swung his sword to knock away the half-blade.
Whoosh!
I unleashed my lightness skill to the max, leaping sideways away from the dead-end wall.
Slash!
Right after I launched myself, a sharp sound rang out, and the wall I'd been pressed against was sliced clean through.
At the same time, I thrust my right hand forward like a stab toward the assassin's back as he swung at the wall.
In my right hand was the scabbard, now gripped there somehow.
The Solitary Soul Strike technique, executed not with a sword, but a scabbard.
Without a hilt, even the grip felt awkward, but driven by pure survival instinct, it unfolded more perfectly than ever before.
Maybe because he'd just swung at the wall, or perhaps my swordsmanship exceeded his expectations.
Instead of his usual fluid responses, the assassin boldly rolled across the floor to evade my strike.
A tumbling dodge. But true to form as an assassin, he showed no pride wounded over such a move.
And I had no intention of being satisfied with just seeing him tumble once.
Screeech!
I swung the scabbard at him again as he rolled on the floor.
But he rolled, sprang up, and immediately countered with a bold swing of his own sword at my scabbard.
Slash!
Slash!
Each clash between his sword and my scabbard shaved off more of it.
An utterly absurd sight.
Before I knew it, the scabbard was half its original length, and he'd regained his footing completely.
The moment he lunged at me again, I hurled the last remnant of the scabbard at him.
Slash!
Even that final act of resistance was futile, sliced away.
“Huu.”
But I let out a sigh of relief.
“Young Master!!”
“No way—has Third Young Master come again!?”
Jin Ha-yeon and the two guard warriors residing in Wind Rock Hall had rushed to the room's entrance.
It had felt like an eternity with my life on the line, but in reality, it had all happened in just a few seconds.
“It’s not Senior Brother!”
“!!!”
No sooner had I shouted than Gwan Mu-yeol burst into the room.
Crash!
The assassin, seemingly abandoning his mission, suddenly hurled himself toward the window.
Crash!
At the same time, a gruesome sound of something being pierced rang out.
“I’ll pursue him!”
Jang Hoe's shout followed right after.
He must have anticipated an escape and positioned himself near the window ahead of time.
Right after the assassin fled.
“Huu.”
I took another deep breath to steady myself.
Just a few seconds of twisting and turning, swinging a sword. Compared to my usual training volume, it was nothing—but my heart pounded like it would burst, and sweat poured from my entire body.
Then, Jin Ha-yeon, who had approached unnoticed, tore her own clothes with a rip and pressed them against my wounds.
“Are you alright, Young Master?”
She applied golden sore medicine to the cuts on my right forearm and chest from the assassin, then began wrapping them in bandages.
Only then did I snap back to reality, grimacing fiercely.
Not because the pain from the wounds was hitting me late.
‘Damn it all.’
The room was a total wreck.
It felt like it needed cleaning immediately. And with sleep driven off entirely, tomorrow's routine would suffer too.
It was ridiculous. Just moments ago, my life had hung in the balance, yet now this was what caught my eye.
But the real reason I sighed wasn't the mess or tomorrow's schedule.
“Miss Jin.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“Sorry to ask, but could you fetch me a spare sword?”
“A sword, you say?”
She asked with an expression of puzzlement unlike her usual self.
I let out a deep sigh and replied.
“I think... I need to train with the sword a bit.”
The sword techniques I'd unleashed against the assassin moments ago kept flashing before my eyes.
In that life-or-death moment, the paths I'd executed unconsciously—more perfect than any time before.
If I didn't make them my own right now, I'd go mad.
‘And I was being so careful, too.’
Damn that assassin—thanks to him, my Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword had advanced to a new level.
* * *
As expected, the Cult was in an uproar from early dawn.
Jang Hoe said he'd chased the assassin he'd wounded, but the man had chosen suicide in the end.
Of course, suicide didn't hide everything. With his corpse in hand, a full investigation began.
And around noon—far earlier than usual—Master visited Wind Rock Hall.
“Is your body alright?”
“It wasn’t a serious injury, Master.”
Master nodded at my response, his face grave.
“For now, I came to update you on what we’ve uncovered so far and check on your condition.”
With those opening words, Master explained the situation as it stood.
“The one who attempted to assassinate you was a man named Chu-gak from the Shadow Assassins Pavilion. Our investigation into his movements and connections so far suggests a high likelihood he was a spy for the Martial Alliance.”
“The Martial Alliance?”
“Indeed. We’re now investigating anyone with even the slightest connection to him to check for other spies.”
It wasn’t unusual for the Martial Alliance to have spies in the Cult.
We’d dug up Alliance intel from our own infiltrators to uncover those behind Uncle Tae-hyeon’s assassination, so the reverse was entirely plausible.
Even so, one thing made no sense.
“Why would the Martial Alliance target me, of all people?”
I was the Heavenly Demon’s disciple, sure—but I was still just a novice who’d entered the Cult half a year ago.
If they were after Master’s disciples, it made far more sense to target my senior brothers, not me.
“There are two main reasons that come to mind.”
“Not one, but two?”
“Indeed. First, it’s because of the academies. Your proposed academies are already operating across the provinces, and it’s common knowledge within the Cult that you devised them. They not only advance the Cult but could nurture children still weak in martial arts—might they not think it wiser to kill you off now?”
Cut the grass by the roots.
I’d thought the academies were no big deal, but perhaps others saw them as revolutionary.
As that thought crossed my mind, Master explained the second reason.
“And the other is that your existence hinders the Martial Alliance’s propaganda.”
“…You don’t mean that incident you mentioned last time?”
Master nodded at my question.
That previous matter—it referred to Uncle Tae-hyeon.
The Alliance bastards had killed him and pinned it on Master.
They’d even spread rumors that I, the errand boy, had died in the process.
But now, that errand boy wasn’t just alive—he was the Heavenly Demon’s disciple.
They could bluster whatever they wanted, but it was certainly enough to irk them.
‘Since I’m already a thorn in their side, they figured they’d kill two birds with one stone.’
It was a deeply troubling situation all around.
I’d thought I was the only one gunning for the Flying Dragon Pavilion Lord, but the Martial Alliance had already clocked my existence—and not just that, they were gunning for me too.
* * *
Master left to handle the rest, and soon after, the doors to Wind Rock Hall burst open.
“Oppa!!”
Seon-a came rushing in, her face pale as a ghost, only to trip and sprawl flat on the floor.
But as if that didn’t matter, she scrambled right back up despite her face and arms scraped red from the slide, throwing herself at me.
I’d been the one nearly dying, yet here this little kid clung to me like a rain-soaked kitten.
It was a strange feeling.
To have someone treasure me this much. Sure, the demonic arts’ side effects played a part, to some degree.
“W-Who did this? How dare they target Oppa. I-I’ll kill them all!”
“…….”
Her way of worrying felt... a bit off somehow.
Come to think of it, her eyes and hair seemed a touch redder than when I first saw her.
Worried about the kid’s condition for some reason, I stroked her head and said.
“Ahem. He’s already dead, so no need for Seon-a to kill him. By the way, you held out well until our promised time?”
I’d meant it as praise, but her eyes grew even redder.
“Everyone was hiding that Oppa was in danger. When I get back, I won’t let them off!”
“…….”
Was the Hyeok-ryeon family about to get blown to smithereens?
Well, that wasn’t my business, so I kept my mouth shut.
In the meantime, more visitors arrived one after another following Seon-a.
“Little Brother! Are you alright?”
Eldest Senior Brother arrived with the same shocked expression as Seon-a, but unlike her, he bellowed in a face that was anything but cute—positively gruesome.
“I’ll submit a formal complaint to my master and the Cult Protector! For our precious little brother to nearly die at the hands of a mere Martial Alliance spy—what kind of nonsense is this!”
“Right!!”
Seon-a chimed in with Eldest Senior Brother, and the two suddenly united in shouting.
“Our little brother will lead the Cult alongside this Wi Jin-hak and achieve great things! For such a talent to nearly die so easily—what an outrage. No, this won’t do. I’ll make sure they assign you more guards!”
“I’ll protect Oppa too!”
In contrast, Third Senior Brother, who’d come with Eldest Senior Brother, looked utterly dejected.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help at a time like this. This worthless senior brother of yours was too busy managing his Demonic Deviation until just now to even realize his junior nearly died.”
“What are you talking about, Third Senior Brother? Without you, I’d be as good as dead.”
His frequent night visits had served as perfect practice.
If I hadn’t prepared ahead, I wouldn’t have even woken from dreamland before heading straight to the afterlife.
Honestly, his midnight drop-ins had startled and annoyed me every time, but they’d turned into a blessing in disguise.
Still, with Third Senior Brother remaining downcast despite my comfort, I casually tossed out a question.
“By the way, you fell into Demonic Deviation?”
He gave a small nod at my question.
It felt eerie.
‘I’d thought maybe he’d snapped into Demonic Deviation upon seeing the assassin, but he really had.’
If this guy had shown up with the assassin for a pincer attack, it would’ve been a total shitshow.
“Hm?”
As my thoughts reached that point, a question slipped from my lips unbidden.
Those around me looked at me curiously, but I was too focused on the sudden realization to pay them any mind.
It was the kind of thought I’d normally brush off, but for some reason, I couldn’t this time.
After mulling over various possibilities, I arrived at one conclusion.
‘Maybe... the assassin wasn’t sent by the Martial Alliance after all.’