Whirlwind
“What a mess.”
Ryeong was completely isolated from the chaos unfolding outside. Locked away alone in a prison cell, no one was bound to come for her anyway. Yet the commotion outside was far from ordinary. Whether the attacking force was exceptionally powerful or the formation array had leveled the playing field, both sides seemed locked in a dead heat.
“If they’re evenly matched despite having a master of the Transformation Realm on their side, it really must be because of the formation.”
An array inscribed by someone who commanded ghosts. Ryeong had already realized its function was designed to scatter internal qi, as evidenced by the sudden instability rocking her own Heaven-Killing Art.
The problem was...
“Why on earth is this one completely fine?”
The Celestial Immortal Divine Art remained entirely unaffected. At this rate, she couldn’t help but wonder if it truly was a cultivation technique meant solely for immortal gods.
Right as that absurd thought crossed her mind, muffled voices drifted past her cell.
“Any word from the others?”
“They succeeded. All that remains is to secure the sacred relic and withdraw.”
It was an exchange Ryeong could not simply ignore. She didn’t know who “the others” referred to, nor what success they were celebrating. But she knew one crucial detail: a sacred relic resided within the Jongnam Sect.
Which meant their words pointed to one chilling conclusion.
They attacked Jongnam, and they’re after the relic?
The moment the realization struck, any lingering leisure vanished. Jongnam had been raided, and worse, the raid had supposedly succeeded.
Jongnam’s primary forces were away, called out on summons. From the start, this formation wasn’t meant to slaughter the investigation team.
It was a stalling tactic. There was no other reason for them to strike at this exact moment.
Ripping off her manacles in an instant, Ryeong slipped into the corridor once the presences of the conversing men had vanished.
Blades. As many as possible.
Stripping a black robe from a fallen corpse, she gathered up every sharp edge within arm’s reach. Her movements, honed over a lifetime as the realm’s foremost assassin, left not a ripple of suspicion.
This should be enough.
Armed with throwing daggers and short swords, Ryeong slipped past the boundary of the formation array. She couldn’t quite fathom why an inexplicable urgency clawed at her chest. Was it dread over the sacred relic falling into enemy hands? In truth, her instincts were reacting to the assault on Jongnam, but she chose to convince herself it was merely concern over the relic.
Fortunately, she slipped through the formation array without incident. Her concerns about potential backlash proved completely unfounded.
Of course, this exception applied only to her. The array enveloping the headquarters fundamentally barred anyone from entering or leaving.
How, then, had she walked right through it?
The answer to that question would only dawn on Ryeong long after this day. For now, she remained oblivious to the true worth of the Celestial Immortal Divine Art—and to the fact that the mercy Immortal Hyeok had shown Cheonsal had been far more than mere compassion.
Furthermore, the moment she breached the perimeter, a hairline fracture spiderwebbed across the array. The internal qi that had been stifled and destabilized within the headquarters began to settle, returning to equilibrium. To the martial artists of Jongnam and the investigation team, it was a salvation; to the men in black robes, it was nothing less than a death sentence.
“Haa... pant...”
His breath ragged and burning in his throat, Jinyeong slumped against a tree, gasping for air. A bitter wave of self-loathing engulfed him for running away, paralyzed and useless before the elder’s death.
“Damn it... Damn it! Damn it! Damn it all!!”
Unable to contain his rage, Jinyeong slammed his fist into the trunk.
He had to run. Had he stayed, death was certain. The terror etched deep into his primal instincts had compelled his feet forward. Yet whatever the justification, Jinyeong had ultimately turned his back on Jongnam. He had abandoned his martial brothers and sisters, escaping alone.
Could this truly be right?
His teeth ground together. Abandon the sect family who had raised him? Savor his own solitary survival while forsaking those who had shared his every joy and sorrow?
“I can’t... I won’t do it!”
Calm reason dictated that turning back was folly. Why else had Elder Hwanggu rushed to Face-Wall Cave to force his escape? You must live, if only you. You are the only one left to carry Jongnam’s will.
Yet few could remain rational in the torrential flood of grief and guilt. Jinyeong’s mind had already snapped past reason. He had even forgotten the rudimentary duty of rushing to the investigation team’s headquarters to sound the alarm.
As he sprinted recklessly toward the main gates of Jongnam—
“Stop, Jinyeong. Charge in blindly, and you’ll only die.”
“Ryeong?! How are you here?”
“I caught word of the raid. A battle broke out at headquarters too, so I slipped away during the commotion.”
“T-That...”
Jinyeong stared at Ryeong, her identity masked beneath a cowl and dark robes. Though he couldn’t see her face, her voice was unmistakable. For some reason, the mere sight of her brought a strange calm over his frayed nerves. Perhaps because he instinctively recognized her as an ally, the wild, frantic pounding of his heart slowed to a steady rhythm.
“Storming in like a madman will only get you killed. I was pondering how to handle this... but you’ll have to act as bait.”
“Bait?”
“You were curious about what I’m truly capable of, weren’t you? I’ll show you.”
Jinyeong tilted his head in confusion. Beneath her mask, Ryeong flashed a faint smile, though he couldn’t see it.
“What should I do?”
“Simple. Go raise hell.”
So long as their attention was diverted, she could sweep away dozens in the blink of an eye. With that confident promise, Ryeong turned on her heel. Jinyeong followed without a single word of protest.
Why did her back, slender and delicate though it appeared, inspire more trust than any towering bulwark? With Ryeong, maybe—just maybe—they had a chance. Gripping the scabbard at his hip, Jinyeong quickened his pace. For his martial brothers and sisters, and for Jongnam.
Meanwhile, in Jongnam’s central martial training grounds...
The captured disciples knelt on the cold flagstones, forced to stare directly at the severed heads of the sect’s two remaining elders. The assailants clad in red robes were vicious to the core; rather than slaughtering every disciple outright, they had gathered the survivors in one place to grind their spirits beneath the heel of absolute defeat.
“Still no word?”
“It appears to have been hidden deep within the sect. Retrieving it will take some time.”
“Tedious pests.”
He was the leader of the red-robed raiders, his martial prowess estimated to be at or beyond the Peak Realm. With not a single person present capable of standing against him, each word he uttered sent tremors of dread through the captive disciples.
That was when a roar shattered the air.
“You damned bastards!!”
“And what is that?”
A young boy charged into the open courtyard, screaming at the top of his lungs. The leader turned his head, casting an indifferent glance toward him. The boy wore the same uniform as the captives—evidently a fledgling disciple who had fled, only to be dragged back by his own indignation.
“Don’t kill him. Capture him alive.”
“Loyalty!”
Thirty red-robed martial artists fanned out, surrounding Jinyeong in an instant—far too many for a lone youth to withstand.
“That utter fool... why did he come back?”
“If you managed to escape, you should have stayed alive! Why throw your life away?!”
Anguished cries erupted from his kneeling peers. The fleeting relief of seeing Jinyeong alive instantly curdled into sheer despair. Cross-armed, the enemy leader watched the one-sided hunt with cold detachment.
“Khhh-aaargh!”
Jinyeong attempted a valiant charge to break through the cordon, but the seasoned killers matched his every step, giving him not a sliver of an opening. Left with no alternative, Jinyeong resorted to a ranged strike.
“Haaah!”
Having stepped into the First-Rate realm, he could now project sword qi. His plan was to cut down at least one man and pry open a gap, but—
Clang!
The blade was deflected with effortless ease.
“Guh!”
The flat of a sword struck Jinyeong squarely across the flank, dropping him to his knees in agony. Other assailants converged, their bare blades leveling at his throat. The battle was over.
Or so it seemed.
Th-th-th-th-thwip!
A volley of throwing daggers rained down in unison from nowhere.
It was an ambush executed at such terrifying speed that not even seasoned killers could react. With their skulls punctured in the same split second, all thirty men crumpled simultaneously to the blood-stained earth.
The leader’s pupils dilated. The captive disciples gasped in sheer disbelief, while Jinyeong curled the corner of his lips in a secret smirk.
“Intriguing. So you brought an assassin with—”
CLANG!
As the leader rose from his seat, Ryeong—having claimed thirty lives from afar in a heartbeat—materialized at blinding speed, thrusting a dagger directly toward his ribs. Yet the leader was a master of the Peak Realm. Her lightning strike met solid steel, thwarted by a hair’s breadth.
“Free the disciples first! Hurry!”
“Understood!”
The moment the sneak attack was parried, Ryeong erased her presence like smoke. Relaying the telepathic command to Jinyeong, she lunged at the commander again from his blind spot.
“Quite the amusing assassin!”
Clang!
Predictably, the follow-up strike was parried as well. Once her presence had been exposed, classic assassin tactics lost their teeth.
And so, the path Ryeong chose instead—
She drifted into plain sight, stepping forward with eerie stillness.
“Ho? You dare challenge me head-on?”
Words were useless now. This was a direct duel of life and death, their very lives hanging in the balance.
With the leader’s full attention pinned on Ryeong, Jinyeong bolted toward his captive peers. Thanks to Ryeong wiping out all thirty guards in a single breath, no one remained to bar his way.
“I’m sorry I’m late, everyone!”
“Jinyeong! Who is that?!”
“Someone I know personally! She came willingly to help us!”
“An assassin you know personally?! Have you lost your mind, Jinyeong?!”
“She isn’t an evil person! She doesn’t just kill people without reason!”
Slash, slash.
Jinyeong severed the binding cords with brisk strokes of his blade. The freed disciples quickly helped lay down those whose acupoints had been sealed or who were grievously wounded.
Meanwhile—
Cl-cl-cl-cl-clang!
Sparks erupted in rapid flurries as Ryeong and the leader traded dozens, then hundreds of blows. It was a fight where Ryeong was at an undeniable disadvantage. If the clash dragged on, defeat was an absolute certainty. The moment Ryeong sensed this and retreated half a step—
“Where do you think you’re running?!”
“Tch!”
Having no intention of granting her distance, the commander dug his heels into the flagstones and closed in within a heartbeat. Pivoting her torso to slip past his blade trajectory, Ryeong took full advantage of her slender, supple body. Planting her left palm against the stone floor, she detonated the pure energy of the Celestial Immortal Divine Art, vaulting high into the sky.
The commander’s eyes tracked her ascent. Spinning through the air, she touched down lightly on the earth.
The leader spoke, his tone laced with genuine exhilaration. “How long has it been since I last faced an assassin this nimble!”
“Hate to break it to you, but call me a former assassin.”
Her breathing was growing ragged. Because she was channeling her martial arts primarily through the Celestial Immortal Divine Art, her movements lacked the seamless, instinctive lethality of old. Relying on the Heaven-Killing Art would be pointless anyway; against an opponent of superior realm, an assassination cultivation art offered little direct leverage.
And I can’t just abandon those brats and flee.
In the past, Ryeong would have abandoned any fight without a clear chance of victory without a second thought. But changes in environment had wrought subtle, profound shifts in her values.
Now, for the very first time in her life...
Ryeong was fighting not to take a life, but to protect one.