Chapter 11
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: An Unwelcome Summons
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A special banquet hall on the fourth floor of the Feast Pavilion.
A man sat before a table laden with all manner of delicacies.
He appeared to be in his mid-forties. His sharp eyes stood out, as gaunt as his frame. Yet, the man paid no mind to the food.
He was simply tipping back his cup with a bored expression.
Just then, the door opened and someone entered the hall.
It was a courtesan, around twenty years old, holding a seven-stringed zither.
A woman whose pure beauty shone through even her thick makeup.
The man's languid gaze sharpened.
As she performed a deep, graceful bow, the man swallowed hard.
His sticky gaze roamed over her body.
His eyes traveled down her long, slender neck, paused for a moment on her provocatively full chest, then swept down over her willow-thin waist and ample hips.
Her atmosphere was as seductive as her sensual figure.
Yet, amidst it all, she possessed a strange, indefinable grace.
*'Absolutely breathtaking!'*
Neung So-mil exclaimed inwardly.
She was the very reason he had come to the Feast Pavilion.
As if sensing his gaze, the woman offered a faint smile.
That alone was enough to make Neung So-mil's heart pound.
*'Truly a rare beauty!'*
Struggling to hide his expression, Neung So-mil let out a short, dry cough.
“Today marks the hundredth cup I receive from you. The promise that we would spend the night together once I reached one hundred—that is still valid, is it not?”
At Neung So-mil's words, the courtesan, Ye Wol-hyang, blushed slightly.
“Of course. I am to return to my hometown tomorrow. I will gladly spend my last night here with you, my lord.”
Ye Wol-hyang sat demurely beside Neung So-mil. His hand naturally wrapped around her waist.
“The night is long, my lord. There is no need to rush.”
She pushed his hand away, feigning shyness.
But even this felt like a flirtatious gesture designed to melt his heart.
Just then, Ye Wol-hyang let out a small cry.
“Ah!”
She took something from her robes and presented it to him.
“Our manager asked me to deliver this letter to you, my lord.”
“Suddenly?”
“Some beggar child brought it, stating your name precisely.”
“Do you think I have eyes for some letter right now…?”
Neung So-mil couldn't finish his sentence.
It was because of the character written on the letter.
Blood (血).
The letter contained nothing but that single, hastily scrawled character, yet the handwriting was familiar.
*'Damn it all!'*
Neung So-mil's eyes trembled violently.
*'I heard he was dead for sure!'*
Seeing Neung So-mil's noticeably stiff expression, Ye Wol-hyang tilted her head.
“My lord?”
“Ha, this is driving me crazy.”
After wavering for a long moment, Neung So-mil finally let out a sigh deep enough to shake the earth.
Pleasure and romance were all well and good, but life came first.
“Wait here a moment. I’ll be right back. Ah! Dammit! That place isn't somewhere I can just pop over to and come right back, is it?”
Neung So-mil cursed as he recalled the meeting place.
He briefly considered ignoring the letter. But that thought didn't last long.
“Forget it. There's no way that madman would tolerate it…”
If things went wrong, his own establishment, the Sinsobang, would surely be turned to rubble, and he himself would not be long for this world.
Leaving the courtesan house, Neung So-mil immediately unleashed his movement technique. But he couldn't contain his surging frustration.
“Why did it have to be today of all days!”
After running nonstop for four hours, he arrived at an abandoned temple far outside Lanzhou.
Panting heavily, Neung So-mil stepped inside the temple.
The temple was shrouded in deep darkness, and there was no sign of life.
Neung So-mil looked around, bewildered.
It was then that a person opened their eyes in the darkness.
…!
A chill ran down Neung So-mil's spine.
Eyes as cold as ice.
That chilling gaze pushed back the darkness.
With just that, the temple, which had seemed empty, suddenly felt full.
An immense pressure completely dominated the surrounding space.
It was an overwhelming presence that only one who held the world beneath their feet could possess.
*'Dammit!'*
Neung So-mil shut his eyes tight in despair.
Deep within his heart.
A unique gaze that stirred a primal fear.
He wasn't exuding killing intent or emitting a flashy aura, yet Neung So-mil was frozen to the spot.
It was undoubtedly the Blood Hand Honored One, who he had thought was dead.
It was his unique gaze, one that could never be erased from memory, no matter how hard one tried.
Neung So-mil tried to shake off the fear that was slowly creeping up on him.
Then, forcing a smile, he spoke.
“It seems the rumors of the martial world cannot be trusted.”
Having broken the silence, Neung So-mil carefully observed Cho Ak-ryang.
“I heard you perished along with the masters of the Martial Alliance.”
Cho Ak-ryang said nothing.
Neung So-mil, on the other hand, felt his insides burn with anxiety. Cho Ak-ryang's silence felt ominous.
*'How in the world did he escape?'*
It was a net cast across heaven and earth by the Martial Alliance, no less.
One that included an elder of the Namgung Family, the Arhat Hall Master of Shaolin, and the Thousand Hand Shadow of the Sichuan Tang Family…
They had essentially thrown thirty percent of the Martial Alliance's entire strength into it.
That was why he had believed the Alliance's announcement of mutual destruction. But no matter how he looked, he could find no trace of injury on Cho Ak-ryang.
*'Impossible.'*
He didn't want to believe it, but he had no choice.
There was no other way to explain his current presence.
Neung So-mil glanced outside the temple. In the distance, the dawn was beginning to break.
He naturally grew impatient.
“What business did you seek me for?”
Seeing Cho Ak-ryang remain silent, Neung So-mil grew more anxious.
“Are you perhaps looking for information regarding the Martial Alliance's subjugation of the Ten Great Villains?”
As expected, there was no reply.
Neung So-mil clenched his teeth.
At this rate, the whole night wouldn't be enough.
*'Ah, to hell with it.'*
With a feeling of 'what will be, will be,' Neung So-mil began to speak.
“My desire to assist you, Honored One, remains unchanged, but please understand that I am also in a position of responsibility for my organization.”
Neung So-mil continued, warily watching Cho Ak-ryang's reaction.
“Furthermore, since this matter involves the Martial Alliance, the risk to my organization is immense. Therefore, providing information is…”
At that moment.
Cho Ak-ryang spoke for the first time.
“Is that all?”
…?
While Neung So-mil puzzled over the incomprehensible words, Cho Ak-ryang spoke again.
“If it were me, I would have left some more plausible words.”
“Pardon?”
“For a last will and testament, it’s far too shabby.”
With those words, Cho Ak-ryang flashed a pale smile.
Neung So-mil's heart sank.
*'Damn it!'*
The instincts of a martial artist who had overcome countless crises were now screaming alarms.
And just as he expected.
The surrounding air seemed to freeze over, and a suffocating pressure bore down on his chest.
It was then that he saw Cho Ak-ryang slowly raising his hand.
…!
Neung So-mil was aghast.
Cho Ak-ryang was merely raising his hand and pointing at him. That alone was enough to fill him with despair.
Trembling where he stood, Neung So-mil fell to his knees.
“Please spare me!”
But no answer came.
Even after a considerable time had passed, Neung So-mil dared not raise his head. He could still feel a gaze piercing the back of his neck.
Drip. Drip.
Cold sweat poured down like rain, trickling along the bridge of his nose before falling to the floor.
How much time had passed like that?
“How many were taken down?”
“Pardon?”
Neung So-mil, who had reflexively questioned him, hurriedly spoke.
“Six of them!”
At Neung So-mil's quick-witted response, Cho Ak-ryang smiled faintly. But Neung So-mil could not let his guard down.
He knew the man before him better than anyone.
One wrong word, and it would be a straight trip to the underworld.
He had seen countless times that behind that smile lurked something incredibly dangerous.
Neung So-mil began to spill everything he knew about the Martial Alliance's subjugation of the Ten Great Villains.
“…That is all I know.”
After Neung So-mil's explanation, which took about two hours, Cho Ak-ryang asked a question.
“Why only three?”
According to what he'd said, the Martial Alliance had announced the execution of seven of the Ten Great Villains.
But since he himself was still alive, that meant six were dead.
The math didn't add up. There had to be one more survivor.
Neung So-mil quickly answered.
“One of them surrendered to the Martial Alliance.”
At Neung So-mil's answer, Cho Ak-ryang furrowed his brow.
Excluding himself, the survivors among the Ten Great Villains were Beom Gye-wi, the Greenwood's Grand Chieftain Ak Ho-gun, and No Dan-yang, known as the Seven Severing Demonic Lord.
Beom Gye-wi was out of the question.
The Grand Chieftain of the Greenwood was not it either.
That greedy bastard would never hand over the Eighteen Fortresses of the Greenwood to the Martial Alliance.
That left only one person.
*'The Seven Severing Demonic Lord.'*
He couldn't believe that stubborn man would surrender to the orthodox sects.
Neung So-mil nodded.
“I heard he is personally leading the Evil-Shattering Corps.”
One of the four organizations that support the Martial Alliance, the Evil-Shattering Corps is a pursuit squad specializing in tracking down and eliminating enemy remnants.
Cho Ak-ryang was lost in thought.
After a moment.
Cho Ak-ryang looked at Neung So-mil.
“I am clearer than anyone about debts and grudges.”
Gulp.
Neung So-mil swallowed hard.
He wasn't foolish enough to miss the meaning behind those words.
“Only I will know of seeing the Blood Honored One today. No…”
Neung So-mil quickly shook his head.
“I will erase it from my memory entirely.”
Cho Ak-ryang smirked.
“We'll meet again.”
With that, Cho Ak-ryang walked past Neung So-mil and disappeared beyond the rising sun.
Left alone, Neung So-mil squeezed his eyes shut.
“Hoo.”
Overcome with the relief of having survived, Neung So-mil sprawled on the floor and looked up at the sky.
The sun was already up, forcing him to look directly at it. As the relief of survival washed over him, he remembered something he had forgotten.
“Wol-hyang!”
Neung So-mil cried out pitifully.
The time and effort he had poured into that dream-like first night.
It had all vanished, like a midsummer night's dream.
* * *
Dan Ak-seon was enjoying the rare peace.
But not even a day had passed before a wave of loneliness washed over him.
He thought he was used to being alone, but he already missed the lively atmosphere.
The absence of the two men felt that significant.
*'Should I go to the village?'*
The herbs the apothecary owner had requested were ready. Dan Ak-seon loaded the dried herbs onto a cart and left the Divine Demon Valley.
Walking along the quiet mountain path, he thought of Beom Gye-wi.
*'If he were here, we would have arrived long ago.'*
Beom Gye-wi, who would have been showing off his movement technique.
A smile naturally formed on his lips as he remembered him.
He was also worried about Cho Ak-ryang, who had yet to recover his martial arts.
*'I hope nothing has happened to him.'*
The martial artists from the Martial Alliance he had encountered at the apothecary a while ago kept bothering him.
By the time he arrived at the village, lost in thought, half a day had already passed.
“Hello, huh?”
Dan Ak-seon's eyes widened as he entered the apothecary.
He had encountered an unexpected person.
He appeared to be in his late forties. A middle-aged man with calm eyes that were as impressive as his neat attire.
Spotting Dan Ak-seon, the man offered a gentle smile.
Dan Ak-seon, however, turned to look at the apothecary owner.
At his reproachful gaze, the owner jumped.
“It wasn't me! I swear! How this person found this place is…”
The middle-aged man.
Pung Jin-seong, the head of the Jinseong Medical House, approached Dan Ak-seon with a warm smile.
“Have you been well, Young Valley Lord?”
At his polite greeting, Dan Ak-seon let out a quiet sigh.