The Retainer of Jongnam
"My lady. I brought some clothes you can throw on."
Daeyeong called out toward the stream, keeping his back respectfully turned. Knowing she was a woman, his plan was simply to leave the garments and scurry back. Yet even after a long moment passed, no answer came.
"...My lady?"
Growing uneasy, Daeyeong called out once more. Still met with utter silence, he debated with himself before finally giving in.
He turned around and crept toward the water's edge, desperately reassuring himself that surely she wouldn't execute him just for catching a glimpse of her bare skin. But the moment his eyes took in the scene, he froze.
"What the hell? Where'd she go?"
She had unquestionably stepped into the water right here. Yet no matter how thoroughly he rubbed his eyes and scanned the banks, there wasn't a living soul in sight. Was he dreaming, or had he lost his mind?
A thoroughly bewildered Daeyeong blinked repeatedly. Naturally, reality did not magically alter itself to accommodate him.
"She just... walked off?!"
It was utterly absurd. How could someone slaughter an entire Murim Alliance squad and then just wander away without cleaning up a single trace? Was she completely out of her mind?
"Well, of course she's out of her mind."
A heavy sigh tumbled from Daeyeong's lips. Hwangho had ordered him to keep that terrifying woman secured at all costs, but the person in question had already vanished into thin air. With matters turned out like this, Daeyeong had only one choice left.
"Time to run."
To hell with banditry and to hell with the stronghold. If he didn't want to end up skinned alive by the Murim Alliance, fleeing this very instant was the only sane choice. Tossing the clothes aside, Daeyeong bolted in the exact opposite direction of the Yellow Tiger Stronghold. A man had to look out for his own skin!
All his life, he had lived as a naive fool, constantly taking daggers to the back while scraping by in the wilderness. It was about time he did some backstabbing of his own. Of course, this particular betrayal would end up turning Daeyeong's entire destiny upside down—a twist of fate that not even he could have ever foreseen.
"Ahem. So... you're saying a den of bandits abducted you, and you barely managed to slip away under the chaos when the Murim Alliance launched their raid?"
"Yeah. Don't believe me?"
"Well, no, it isn't that, but..."
The youth faltered, his tongue tying itself in knots. He tried to think it through logically. If she were truly a helpless captive who had just escaped with her life... how on earth would she treat the first stranger she encountered?
She would have cried for help, or begged me to save her life. But instead...
Ryeong hadn't done anything remotely of the sort. Rather, she had pounced upon him like a ravenous beast sighting prey. Having never seen a woman's naked form in his life, the boy had panicked and fainted dead away on the spot. When he finally opened his eyes, his upper robe had been thoroughly stripped away, and he was being carried piggyback across her shoulders. How utterly mortified he had been!
"For someone fleeing for her life... our first encounter was a bit questionable, don't you think?"
"Why? Would you feel better if I showed you some more?"
"W-What! Are you trying to paint me as some shameless degenerate?!"
"Your nostrils are flaring. Looks like you're dying for another peek, aren't you?"
"N-No, that's not it at all...!"
As the boy flailed in flustered desperation, fumbling through excuse after excuse, Ryeong let out a faint chuckle and took in the atmosphere of the tavern. She had already deduced his affiliation from his robes. The only puzzle was that a boy of his age would never be wandering the realm entirely on his own.
Initially, she had planned to rob him of his clothes and slip away into the shadows. But she had adjusted her plans, deciding instead that sticking by this boy might prove rather convenient.
Right on cue, the inn door swung open, and a contingent clad in Taoist robes matching the youth's stepped through the entrance. Incidentally, Ryeong had already made the boy buy her a fresh change of clothes.
"Martial Uncles, over here!"
"Jin-young! Where on earth have you been wan—Who is this young lady?"
The man scolding the youth, Jin-young, suddenly froze, his eyes widening in astonishment as he took in Ryeong's appearance. He had just returned from scouring every alley in town searching for the abruptly vanished boy, only to discover him sitting alongside a breathtaking beauty. Had the lad sneaked off purely to pursue a woman? Just as the senior opened his mouth to deliver a blistering reprimand, Ryeong gracefully preempted him.
"Greetings to the esteemed Taoists of the Jongnam Sect. I am called Ryeong."
"...A pleasure to meet you, Lady Ryeong."
When someone in the martial world offered a clasp-hands salute, courtesy strictly demanded one in return. Caught off guard, the entire Jongnam contingent returned her greeting in kind.
Jin-young, meanwhile, stared at Ryeong with a dropped jaw. Could this terrifying woman truly radiate such an elegant, noble poise? They often said a woman's transformation was beyond reproach, and he felt he was finally grasping the meaning—albeit in the most horrifyingly twisted way possible.
"Jin-young! What is with that insolent scowl before a guest?!"
"Ah, Martial Uncle Hyeon-yang, that's really not—"
"Did you abandon your training and run off all for the sake of this young lady?!"
Hyeon-yang laid into him with fierce indignation. This reaction was entirely born of righteous discipline, and absolutely not because Ryeong possessed peerless beauty. Absolutely not.
"The moment we return to the sect, you will face the wall in solitary contemplation! It is high time I beat some discipline into that rotten spirit of yours!"
"M-Martial Uncle! Please overlook it just this once!"
"Overlook it? Not a chance! Pack your belongings, junior brothers, we are departing!"
"Pardon me. May I offer a humble word?"
Just as the atmosphere turned thoroughly against the youth, Ryeong raised a delicate hand, offering a polite plea for indulgence. Hyeon-yang stood momentarily mesmerized by her radiant countenance, but he hastily cleared his throat and gestured for her to speak.
"Daoist Jin-young actually saved my life. I was fleeing from wicked bandits when he stepped in and vanquished them on my behalf."
"...Is this true?"
At Ryeong's claim, Hyeon-yang turned a piercing glare onto Jin-young. Caught like a deer in lanterns, the youth's pupils quaked violently before he gave an involuntary nod.
What on earth is this woman suddenly babbling about?!
She had to be completely insane. If not, there was no way she could spin such blatant fabrications without batting an eyelash.
I knew it! That whole story about escaping from bandits has to be a total lie too!
Lies only snowball into greater catastrophes down the road. Just as Jin-young braced himself to confess the truth—
Squish.
Ryeong nestled close, looping her arm intimately through his. A soft, supple fullness pressed firmly against his left arm. The brazen physical intimacy instantly caused Jin-young's brain to short-circuit.
"For my nephew to have accomplished such a chivalrous deed... Very well. Though you strayed from your duties, true chivalry demands that we show forgiveness."
"Hehe, you are truly magnificent, Daoist Hyeon-yang."
"Ahem. Well, it was merely fulfilling our duty."
Before Jin-young could muster a single protest, the entire matter was neatly settled. The atmosphere had turned so delightfully cordial that he couldn't possibly burst the bubble now. Of course, the intoxicating pressure against his arm remained unbroken.
"You know what happens if you squeak, right?"
The quiet murmur slipping past Ryeong's lips was so razor-sharp that Jin-young's courage withered on the vine. Finding it impossible to speak the truth, he could only watch as Ryeong released her grip and addressed Hyeon-yang once more.
"Would it be terribly imposing if I relied on the Jongnam Sect's benevolence for a short while...? As you can see, I have lost everything and possess nothing to my name..."
"Do not worry in the least, my lady! We of Jongnam would never turn a blind eye to a helpless commoner in distress!"
"Thank you so very much, Daoist Hyeon-yang. May good fortune bless every step of your journey."
When Ryeong offered a radiant smile, the corners of Hyeon-yang's lips practically ascended into the heavens. His senior martial sister shot him a glare and sharply pinched his side, prompting him to instantly compose his expression.
"We are departing for Shaanxi on the morrow, Lady Ryeong. We shall arrange a room for you, so you need not fret over food and lodging for the time being."
"Oh, goodness, how generous. I never imagined I would receive such boundless grace from the revered Daoists of Jongnam. Truly, thank you from the bottom of my heart."
"Then please, rest comfortably."
With a parting bow, Hyeon-yang led the party upstairs toward the guest rooms, though he didn't forget to cast a pointed, knowing glance back at Jin-young. Having lied to his elder, Jin-young shrank into his seat, tormented by guilt and cursing his own spineless silence.
As he let out a dismal sigh, Ryeong spoke to him, effortlessly dropping all pretense of formal speech.
"What's the matter? Shivering in your boots because you told a little fib?"
"My lady... were you truly captured by bandits?"
"I told you I was, didn't I? If you don't believe me, go ask the Murim Alliance branch. A massive battle broke out and I barely slipped away in the chaos."
"Haaah. To be honest, I haven't the faintest idea what I'm supposed to do with you."
Jin-young laid bare his troubled heart. He still had no inkling of what hidden motive drove Ryeong to approach him. Yet having already deceived his martial uncle, all he could pray for was that she would maintain that lie until the very end.
"If it turns out you pose any threat to Jongnam..."
"If I do?"
"Shouldn't I just take my own life right on the spot?"
Letting out a dry, self-deprecating chuckle, Jin-young gulped down a cup of cold water. Ryeong observed him with cool, indifferent eyes. He barely looked twenty years old, putting him squarely as a third-generation disciple. Yet his cultivation was undeniably at the first-rate realm. At such an age and caliber, he ought to hold a moniker among the rising generation, counted among the celebrated Dragons and Phoenixes.
"Hey. Are you a dragon?"
"I am a human."
"That's not what I'm asking. Those rising stars adorned with grand titles like the Five Dragons and Three Phoenixes. Are you one of them?"
"...You didn't know that until now?"
Jin-young stared back in disbelief. Even during her former life as Cheonsal, she had never spared a passing glance at the up-and-coming generation, so how could she possibly know? Frankly, she considered the whole 'Five Dragons and Three Phoenixes' nonsense utterly childish. Flaunting empty titles like that accomplished nothing beyond drawing the petty envy and malice of every martial artist under heaven. While the underlying sentiment wasn't entirely rotten, the disadvantages far outweighed any fleeting glory. That was Ryeong's firm personal conviction.
"I was bestowed the title of the Sword Dragon. Though I fall short of the Divine Dragon... among the rising generation, none can rival my blade."
"And a grand swordsman like that faints dead away just from seeing a naked woman?"
"T-That's only natural!"
Flushed red with indignation, Jin-young yelled at the top of his lungs. As an abrupt hush fell over the entire tavern, he hastily offered embarrassed bows of apology to the surrounding patrons.
"A-Anyway, I truly hope you harbor no ill intent toward Jongnam. I mean that from the bottom of my heart."
"Don't worry. I don't even have the strength to do anything like that anyway."
Ryeong possessed a unique ability—or rather, it was more accurate to call it the power of the Heaven-Killing Art. Once the Heaven-Killing Art reached a certain threshold, it suppressed the practitioner's inner qi signature not merely by a tenth, but down to less than a thousandth of its true presence. In essence, even a peak-realm master would appear to the world as nothing more than a frail, ordinary mortal.
There was a clear reason she had once earned a moniker among an absurd congregation like the Four Great Evils. An assassin capable of completely erasing their presence? They were nothing short of an unavoidable natural calamity.
At present, Ryeong had suppressed her presence down to roughly one percent. For martial artists of Jongnam's current caliber, discerning the true depths of her cultivation was an utter impossibility. As a result, she had effortlessly concealed her true prowess even from the sect's second-generation disciples.
Not like I have anything better to do right now anyway.
While imposing upon the Jongnam Sect's generosity, she would steadily cultivate the Heaven-Killing Art back to an acceptable realm. That was the very first objective Ryeong set for herself.