Thousand-Li Escort (4)
The paper was cut precisely to match the slender brush—just one finger-width long.
The situation was so abrupt that even the veteran escorts of the Thousand-Li Escort Agency gaped in shock.
In a moment of imminent blade clash, who could ever witness someone calmly picking up a brush? It was a sight for the ages.
Ignoring the stares around him, Han Bin carefully wrote with his three brushes.
Then he swiftly rolled up the paper and slipped it into a tube no thicker than a finger joint.
"Here you go. Seol-hwa, take good care of it."
"Yes, young master."
Seol-hwa leaped onto the carriage roof in a flash.
Yun Yong-ho's eyes widened at the sight.
The carriage didn't even budge when she landed.
In terms of lightness skill, it meant she was no longer beneath him.
Impossible.
Among the Thousand-Li Escort Agency, Yun Yong-ho was second only to the Ronin King Yi Seomyeong in lightness skill.
Yet she displayed such agility!
Before Yun Yong-ho's admiration could fade, Seol-hwa pulled out a carrier pigeon and attached the tube to its leg.
Flutter.
The pigeon beat its wings and soared into the blue sky.
Who would believe all this had happened in the span of a few breaths?
The first to react was the Binghyeol Scholar from the rear.
His pale lips parted slowly.
"Child, what mischief have you wrought now?"
This was directed at Han Bin.
But it was Seol-hwa who bristled with anger.
She stepped forward.
"Are you mocking me right now? Calling me 'kid' when you're just a flimsy twig that'd snap with one hit? Should I slice you into bits and toss you into the Yellow River?"
Silence blanketed the area in an instant.
No one could imagine such words coming from a girl who didn't look a day over fifteen.
As everyone reeled in shock, Han Bin said to Seol-hwa,
"You handle him."
"Yes, young master."
Seol-hwa nodded demurely, looking every bit the ordinary girl.
But that was their misconception.
Shing!
Seol-hwa drew her flexible sword from her waist and asked,
"Can I chop him up?"
"Might need him later. Just rough him up."
"Yes, young master."
Seol-hwa flashed a bright, innocent smile.
Watching it, Escort Leader Yun Yong-ho felt a chill run down his spine.
And rightly so—that smile compressed a storm of emotions.
Seol-hwa, who had contracted with Han Bin under Heuk-cheon's orders and gained some enlightenment, had been saddled with nothing but menial chores ever since.
Her frustrations piled up day by day, turning her into a ticking bomb ready to explode.
Days of playing maid had worn her spirit thin.
Yesterday, her emotions had reached the breaking point.
And now, opportunity knocked to vent it all.
Seeing her expression, Han Bin cautioned again,
"Easy now!"
"……."
But Seol-hwa didn't respond.
She charged at the Binghyeol Scholar like a kid desperate for the bathroom.
Han Bin clicked his tongue at the sight.
He understood her feelings all too well.
Clang! Clang!
The Binghyeol Scholar's iron fan clashed with Seol-hwa's flexible sword.
A bluish energy coated both weapons.
Confirming the Binghyeol Scholar's gaping mouth and Seol-hwa's satisfied grin, Han Bin brushed past Escort Leader Yun Yong-ho.
Yun Yong-ho narrowed his eyes.
It could be focus on Seol-hwa, but he hadn't sensed Han Bin's presence at all.
A shiver ran through him.
If Han Bin were an enemy, his head would already be rolling on the ground.
Lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, Yun Yong-ho watched Han Bin's retreating back.
Han Bin slowly passed by Pyeon-yuk Rang-a's side.
At the same moment, Pyeon-yuk Rang-a swung his staff.
Whoosh!
A gale swept through, scattering nearby fallen leaves.
But Han Bin was no longer there.
Having slipped out of the attack range, he called out casually,
"You take that one, Escort Leader."
"……."
Yun Yong-ho nodded silently.
Shing!
As Yun Yong-ho readjusted his grip on his sword, Han Bin stood before Heuk-ui Sal-pung, the eldest of their sworn brothers.
"Long time no see."
"Hmph."
Heuk-ui Sal-pung swallowed a grunt. It was that single phrase—"long time no see."
Han Bin's actions suggested they'd crossed paths before.
Yet to Heuk-ui Sal-pung, this was their first meeting.
His hesitation was brief. One term came to mind.
'Emotional ploy.'
He figured Han Bin was trying to unsettle him.
Then Han Bin spoke again.
"Guessing emotional ploy right now, aren't you?"
"……."
Heuk-ui Sal-pung flinched and unwittingly stepped back.
The words from this greenhorn contradicted everything. Han Bin moved like a wily veteran of the jianghu.
Of course, Han Bin was impressed by Heuk-ui Sal-pung's patience too.
This Wind Killer was a Sapa master he'd clashed blades with in his past life.
His nickname came from strikes that summoned wind without visible sword—Killing Wind. The "Black-Clothed" prefix stuck because of his black garb.
Han Bin knew the source of his fearsome reputation.
People guessed he was a top assassin from the Killing Veil, but that was wrong.
Locked in a tense stare-down, Heuk-ui Sal-pung spoke.
"What was that carrier pigeon you just sent?"
"Why should I tell you?"
"You're the type who won't cry till they see the coffin."
"And you're not even worth a coffin?"
Han Bin smirked mockingly, prompting Heuk-ui Sal-pung to draw his sword.
Shing!
His patience had snapped.
But only for a moment. Han Bin pulled out the Cold Iron Box from behind and spun it in one hand.
Heuk-ui Sal-pung froze.
Han Bin laughed.
"Scared it'll smash the Qingming Pill?"
"Hmph, you mad bastard……."
"If you're flinching, you've studied spirit pills. Just like you think—if I drop this box, the pill's efficacy drops to a tenth."
Han Bin grinned and toyed with the Cold Iron Box on his fingertip.
He spoke the truth.
What was a spirit pill?
A compressed elixir of rare herbs for miraculous recovery or inner power boosts, or so it was known.
Half-right from Daoist alchemy.
Daoist pills infused natural qi into herb compounds artificially.
Hence dedicated Daoist refiners.
If external shock melted or cracked the qi-sealed surface?
The compressed natural qi would leak, leaving a half—no, tenth-rate pill of mere herbal dregs.
That's why they used expensive Cold Iron Boxes for transport.
Seeing Han Bin bounce the Qingming Pill's box, the enemy couldn't help but panic.
Han Bin smiled triumphantly at their reaction.
Easier to deal with foes who knew about spirit pills.
Of course, "talking" meant with fists first.
Han Bin hurled the Cold Iron Box at Heuk-ui Sal-pung.
Whoosh!
The startled Heuk-ui Sal-pung caught it hastily.
Thud!
Something was off.
Instead of the box's characteristic chill, it felt warm.
"What the hell is this?"
Heuk-ui Sal-pung bellowed with killing intent. The "Cold Iron" he'd grabbed had splintered like wood.
Heuk-ui Sal-pung flung the box to the ground.
It was a wooden fake, not Cold Iron.
Gripping it hard expecting metal, the wood shattered, spilling sticky liquid onto his hand.
He shook it off and charged Han Bin.
Patience was no longer in his vocabulary.
At the same time, Han Bin drew Wol-a.
Shing!
In this battlefield, only two smiled: Seol-hwa and Han Bin.
Seol-hwa vented her rage; Han Bin licked his lips invisibly.
Choosing Heuk-ui Sal-pung wasn't chance.
He'd spotted the formulas on him.
Without knowing his true nature, Han Bin would've lost.
But with past-life memories, it became a weakness.
Clang! Clang!
After several exchanges, Han Bin and Heuk-ui Sal-pung glared.
Though they eyed different things.
Heuk-ui Sal-pung targeted Han Bin's neck; Han Bin focused on the faintly shimmering formulas.
Simple reason for Han Bin's fixation.
His current state: Basic manual stacked with ten formulas.
Gongryong Sword Art linked to his innate power.
Several applied formulas, one Human-grade.
Unfinished applied ones left?
[Voice (Voice), East (East), West (West)]
These three.
No progress since.
This mission was Han Bin's chance to complete the Yongrin Sword Art formulas.
Targeting Sapa warriors swarming for Kunlun's Qingming Pills.
No more formulas in narrow Hebei.
The manual's start had warned:
'Seek the scattered formulas across the jianghu.'
Time to leave Hebei.
This mission was opportunity—with formula-bearers coming to him.
Grinning deeply, Han Bin slipped into Heuk-ui Sal-pung's guard.
A soft breeze grazed his shoulder.
Swish!
Splurt!
Red blood trickled from Han Bin's shoulder.
Not too visible against his red uniform.
As expected, targeting formulas outright was risky.
Han Bin infused Gugeol Eighteen Steps with 'Speed (Speed)'.
His steps accelerated.
Overall attack speed slowed, but binding Heuk-ui Sal-pung's feet meant no end till sunset.
Closing in, Han Bin recalled the next formula.
'Ilchokjikbal.'
He shot forward like an arrowhead.
As it pierced the target—Heuk-ui Sal-pung.
Whoosh!
He vanished, leaving only black clothes.
Perfect blend of footwork and lightness skill.
Han Bin smiled with delight, akin to a seasoned angler's grin.
How to cook easily caught fish?
That was his mood.
Testing resolve was pure joy.
Reel in, then loosen the line.
Han Bin slashed the airborne clothes impaled on his sword.
Slash! Slash!
As the shredded black garb fell, Han Bin flew toward the wall.
Splat.
His sword tip stirred the yellow wall, making it ripple.
Han Bin smirked oddly.
Heuk-ui Sal-pung's true face revealed. What was the stealth sword mistaken for Killing Veil assassin craft?
Heuk-ui Sal-pung hailed from a famed Beijing opera troupe.
Opera demanded sword-mimicking flair.
One day, he discovered his sword talent surpassed acting. Troupe-learned costume tricks forged his unique path.
Costume tricks: changing face paint.
But Heuk-ui Sal-pung altered clothes to match backgrounds.
His ultimate technique: mid-battle camouflage.