Chapter 115
When the silence of night was broken,
Yeo Il was curled up in the darkness, playing the role of “Jegal Ihwa.”
The intruders who had slipped into the Jegal Clan did not permit even the smallest resistance—from the warriors guarding Jegal Ihwa’s quarters, or from the Jianghu people.
At the end of a quiet slaughter, the assassins finally invaded the bedchamber.
“L-Lady Jegal Ihwa… you have to run… k, ugh—”
Unfortunately, Jegal Ihwa could not run. She had already lost consciousness, poisoned by an unidentified drug.
It had all happened right after Jegal Hyeonmun lost his strength.
“…….”
The assassin hoisted Yeo Il’s body up like baggage and fled through the night sky.
Had about half a shi-jin passed since Yeo Il, with both eyes wide open, etched the assassin’s route into her mind?
She was dumped alone inside an old temple.
The distance is closer than I expected.
Just as she was about to broaden her senses and gauge how many assassins were stationed nearby—
Splaash!
Cold water poured down like a waterfall, and Yeo Il’s eyes snapped open.
She reflexively sat up. The first thing that entered her sight was a battered-looking woman collapsed unconscious.
Covered in blood and sweat.
No breath could be heard.
The cold body’s clothing—if you looked closely—was quite high-quality. As Yeo Il’s eyes swept the corpse quickly, they stopped at one point and did not move.
There was a jade plaque at the waist.
A jade plaque identical in shape to Jegal Ihwa’s.
“…Jegal Seonhwa.”
Yeo Il slowly drew in a breath, organizing her thoughts.
Jegal Seonhwa’s death wasn’t part of the plan.
At that moment, a rock-like fist grabbed her by the collar and yanked her up.
A pockmarked face came close and raked over Yeo Il—soaked in cold water—from head to toe.
“Hey.”
Without taking his eyes off Yeo Il, the man spoke to someone standing behind him.
“Did you really bring the right one? No matter how I look, this bitch doesn’t seem like Jegal Ihwa—kgh.”
In an instant, the square-jawed man was struck in the elbow and toppled backward.
Almost at the same time his huge body crashed to the floor, Yeo Il kicked his waist, sending the sword there flying up into the air.
“What the—who are you!”
Dodging the sharp hidden weapons fired straight at her, she seized the scabbard of the unconscious man’s sword.
Shing—. The moment the blade emerged, a brilliant sword aura cleaved through the enemy’s arm.
As the man retreated, assassins with cloth masks covering everything below their eyes revealed themselves from within the shadows. Without giving Yeo Il time to prepare, they attacked at once.
The hidden weapons that poured down like rain, she countered using only sound. Just as she caught her breath, a flashing blade flew in, aiming for her throat.
Tap. She kicked the hand holding the sword, and the blade slipped free and shot up into the sky.
In that instant, the sword that had been falling helplessly flew in a single direction as if it had gained a will of its own. The target was pierced through the thigh, and he rolled back, widening the distance from Yeo Il.
“…Ikieogeom-sul!”
The easiest way to pressure an opponent was to make the difference in level visible.
Even the assassins who had not given up while their allies fell like autumn leaves hesitated at Ikieogeom-sul, watching for an opening.
They were thinking of running.
Not Salmak. Then is it really the Cheonma Divine Cult?
Yeo Il did not chase the assassins as they withdrew one by one. And when she was finally left alone in the empty temple—
…Right. I forgot.
I should’ve asked why they killed Jegal Seonhwa.
Shoving down her regret, she walked back inside the temple.
She placed a finger beneath the woman’s nose, but there was still no breath.
What now.
After standing in silence for a moment, Yeo Il slung Jegal Seonhwa over her shoulder. Then, the moment she stepped outside the temple—
“Who are you?”
Swoooosh—
Through the pouring fallen leaves, she saw two men.
Yeo Il stopped and adjusted her grip on the sword.
“I thought you wouldn’t be an ordinary woman, but I didn’t think it would be to this extent.”
“…….”
“Who are you, and where did you come from? For what purpose did you steal Namgung Soyo’s identity and persuade her maidservant?”
When the moon, hidden by clouds, revealed itself, the owner of the gentle voice also revealed his face in the darkness.
“More than anything… I’m curious where your connection with Jin Cheong-ak began.”
The young man was tall.
His posture was straight as could be, yet he did not give off the aura of a martial artist. He carried a dignity on par with Jegal Ihwa, and the clothing on his body was expensive at a glance.
He did not reveal his identity, but Yeo Il recognized his name at once.
“Choi I-ryang.”
Choi I-ryang let a cool smile fall across his face.
“Did my younger brother talk about me?”
“…….”
“Then I understand why I came looking for you like this.”
Of course she did. There was no way she wouldn’t.
Ye So-gun.
The sacrifice Choi I-ryang sought to ignite the Jeongma Great War.
“Sorry to say this the first time we meet, but you’ll have to die. Even if you feel wronged, what can you do? It’s your fault for borrowing Namgung Soyo’s identity.”
“…….”
“Or was even that part of my younger brother’s plan? Cheong-ak always slips out like a snake even when I try to talk to him, so there’s no way to know.”
Even as Choi I-ryang kept moving his mouth, Yeo Il’s gaze stayed fixed on the white-haired middle-aged man standing quietly at his side.
His presence was not something to take lightly.
Even a quick glance said he was no ordinary martial artist. Deep wrinkles bloomed over his face, but his eyes were as clear as a young man’s.
“You’re tight-lipped. Hm… I like that. Do you have any interest in coming to me?”
That was hard to let pass without answering.
“The way you spit nonsense so easily really does make you worthy of being called Jin Cheong-ak’s brother.”
Choi I-ryang’s eyes widened and he burst into loud laughter. His laughter was as hearty as Jin Cheong-ak’s.
“Cheong-ak and me? Hahaha! What a ridiculous comparison! That kid, whenever he stands in front of me, always spouts nothing but silly talk. He’s no different from a little brat who hasn’t grown up.”
Then the smile that had bloomed on his pale face vanished in an instant.
“…That’s what my younger brother wants people to think. But since he was little, he was a hidden gem—one that couldn’t hide his nature. I only count it lucky that he’s a coward.”
“Then you should’ve buried him so he couldn’t crawl out of Xinjiang.”
Choi I-ryang chuckled, shoulders shaking, and asked in a coaxing voice.
“You really have no intention of coming to me? I won’t ask three times.”
“You shouldn’t have asked twice, then.”
“A pity.”
At Choi I-ryang’s light chin-jerk, the man beside him slowly drew his sword and stepped forward.
After tossing Jegal Seonhwa to the ground, Yeo Il softly stroked the flat of the sword she had taken from the assassins and said,
“I’ll ask one last thing too.”
“I’m willing to hear last words, so speak comfortably.”
“How did you know I was Jegal Ihwa?”
Choi I-ryang relaxed his shoulders and clasped his hands behind his back as he answered.
“Didn’t you realize? We’ve been watching you for quite a long time—”
She had no intention of letting him finish, so she sent a sword aura flying first, closed the distance in a single step, and brought her sword down.
But Yeo Il’s strike cut only air. The white-haired middle-aged man blocked in front of Choi I-ryang, split the sword aura, and even stopped Yeo Il.
As the two blades trembled with effort in a contest of strength—
Choi I-ryang wiped the blood sliding down his cheek with the tips of his fingers, slowly, and smiled coldly.
“I like your treacherous side too. But I said I wouldn’t ask three times.”
With a gesture of his hand, figures who had been hiding their presence in the bushes revealed themselves.
At the instant intense killing intent poured in from all sides—
“If I can’t have you, then I’ll at least take your corpse—”
Yeo Il hoisted Jegal Seonhwa onto her shoulder again and ran for her life.