Chapter 55
As Bu Eun-seol carefully examined the book, Ma-un tilted his head in puzzlement.
"That's a First Stack mission issued not long ago. No need to look at it."
When Bu Eun-seol stared fixedly at him, Ma-un shook his head.
"If you read the details, you'll see it's a tedious job with pay as meager as a rat's tail compared to the work involved. Practically unpaid labor, I'd say."
"Money isn't important."
"Money isn't important? Then what is?"
Instead of answering, Bu Eun-seol continued staring intently until Ma-un reluctantly opened his mouth.
"Blue Sand Valley was originally a Killing Sect that operated only in Hubei. But they've gradually expanded their territory into Hunan as well."
Ma-un cleared his throat before continuing.
"They're not even a Killing Sect affiliated with the Demon Hall—utter scum who'd kill even a child if paid. On top of that, they skulk around like rats in secret."
"Are sects unaffiliated with the Demon Hall all fair game for the Slaughter-Seeking Squad to handle?"
Bu Eun-seol often asked for information beyond just mission details.
But each time, Ma-un cut him off.
"Aside from mission-related information, we don't provide anything else."
"Hmm."
Bu Eun-seol, who had been scrutinizing the contents of the book, let out a thoughtful hum.
Then he tucked the volume labeled Master Who Embraces Simplicity into his robe.
"I'll take this one."
As Bu Eun-seol turned sharply and left the old bookstore, Ma-un muttered with a baffled expression.
"Elder Brother. That guy... he's seriously strange."
"Why? Did he pick another grueling mission?"
"No, he chose the Blue Sand Valley elimination mission that just came in."
"What?"
Sang-ryang blinked rapidly.
"What? A guy with his skills? Why bother dealing with assassins?"
"Don't tell me he's... like that Number Eleven from before?"
Ma-un muttered as he watched Bu Eun-seol's retreating figure.
"Honestly, I think he's addicted to the taste of blood—that's why he does this work."
"Does that even make sense?"
"Why wouldn't it? Haven't there been plenty among those crawling into the Slaughter-Seeking Squad who joined just to play human butcher?"
Among the unit's members, some didn't join because of crimes or money—they simply relished bloodshed and slaughter.
"That kid's gaze is downright murderous, and his tone is icy... I'm pretty sure he's one of those types."
"Didn't seem that way to me."
"Then why would someone with his skills take on a First Stack mission that's practically a waste of time?"
"Hmm. You might have a point."
From Bu Eun-seol's perspective, he was choosing missions to gain real combat experience. But seen through their eyes, it could easily be mistaken as a thirst for slaughter.
After furrowing his brows briefly, Sang-ryang shook his head.
"Damn it. I thought we finally had a decent one. Turns out he's just another lunatic with Slaughter Frenzy."
A group of martial artists walked along the winding river.
Their attire was shabby, but their eyes were uniformly clear, and each wore a Hero's Headwrap.
They were the disciples of the Mount Heng Sect, hastening their journey after leaving Gyeongha Pavilion.
"Looks like we'll have to camp out tonight no matter what."
The middle-aged man leading the group gazed at the setting sun.
He was none other than the Mount Heng Sect's eldest disciple, Ok Gi-heun.
"Ugh, it's all because of that bastard!"
The lanky man following behind—the second disciple, Hong Jeon-gun—gnashed his teeth and smacked the head of the youngest junior brother beside him.
That junior brother was Myeong-un, who had tried to mooch free drinks off Bu Eun-seol.
"Because of you, we wasted half a day and ended up in this mess!"
Myeong-un protested with an aggrieved expression.
"It wasn't me—it was the alcohol worms in my stomach—"
Thwack.
Hong Jeon-gun smacked Myeong-un's head again for spouting nonsense, baring his gums.
"Stop talking crap and get ready to start a fire!"
Seemingly well-accustomed to camping, the Mount Heng disciples moved with systematic efficiency.
They gathered branches for the fire, and some took cloth from their packs to fashion a tent from felled trees, sheltering themselves from the night dew.
Tap tap tap.
Before they knew it, night had deepened.
The Mount Heng disciples, settled in a rocky enclave, sat around the bonfire, preparing to sleep.
Chirp chirp.
Only the occasional sound of crickets broke the silence.
Hong Jeon-gun asked Ok Gi-heun, who stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the bright moon.
"Eldest Brother. Can't sleep?"
Ok Gi-heun smiled faintly and shook his head.
"No, not really. I just find the night scenery pleasant..."
Though he said that, his eyes weren't looking at the scenery at all.
Hong Jeon-gun, who had gauged Ok Gi-heun's thoughts, let out a sigh.
"Well... It does feel a bit off for proper disciples of our sect to be acting like mere escorts, transporting goods."
Truthfully, the reason the Mount Heng Sect disciples had ventured into the Martial World was at the request of the Emei Sect—to deliver the Golden Divine Pill to the Wudang Sect.
"It's not just transportation. It was a sincere request from the Emei Sect. And since our master had ties with Abbess Jeong-an, we couldn't refuse."
Though he said that, Ok Gi-heun's expression remained far from pleased.
No matter how much their sect had declined, the Mount Heng Sect had once commanded the Southern Peak.
And now, they were reduced to delivering goods for another sect? It was impossible not to feel a pang of inferiority.
"I even told our master—after this, we won't take on such tasks again."
But the truth was, the Mount Heng Sect's finances were in dire straits. If they didn't take on jobs like this, they'd starve.
Ok Gi-heun shook his head and changed the subject.
"Still, I'm more worried about our youngest junior brother. I wish he'd snap out of his aimlessness soon."
Myeong-un was the youngest disciple, taken in during their master's later years.
But he was naturally brilliant, with an innate talent for martial arts—so much so that within a year, he had mastered all the secret manuals of the Mount Heng Sect on his own.
Yet at some point, he stopped training and began drowning himself in alcohol instead.
They had scolded him harshly, tried coaxing him—but nothing worked.
"Don't worry too much. He'll come to his senses eventually. And when he does, he'll bring glory to the Mount Heng Sect."
At Hong Jeon-gun's words, Ok Gi-heun muttered bitterly.
"If only Myeong-un had joined our sect a little earlier... he would've been chosen as one of the Great Righteous Experts."
The Great Righteous Experts.
A plan by the Martial Alliance to nurture outstanding young talents, regardless of sect or faction, by freely imparting supreme martial techniques.
Hearing that they could learn the orthodox sects' secret techniques, the Mount Heng Sect disciples had also applied.
But their talents weren't exceptional enough—they failed to pass the second trial and had no choice but to withdraw.
But if Myeong-un had been there then?
He would've undoubtedly been selected as one of the eighteen Great Righteous Experts.
"Well, no use dwelling on the past."
Ok Gi-heun forced a bitter smile as he gazed at Myeong-un's sleeping face.
"It's not like we don't understand his feelings."
At that, Hong Jeon-gun's expression darkened as well.
The truth was, they all knew.
Myeong-un wasn't just lost—he was drowning in despair.
Without the Twin Absolutes—the Mount Heng Sect's supreme Internal Energy Method and Advanced Sword Art, the Line-Drawing Secret and the Lute Sword—
Even if he mastered every remaining martial art in the sect, he would never break past the barrier to becoming first-rate.
"But if it's Myeong-un, he'll surpass his limits someday."
At Hong Jeon-gun's words, Ok Gi-heun smiled faintly.
"I can only hope for that."
The two senior brothers looked at the sleeping Myeong-un with gentle eyes, as if making a silent promise.
"You should rest now, senior brother. We'll need to hurry from tomorrow onward."
"Right..."
Just as Ok Gi-heun was about to nod, his eyes suddenly sharpened.
Something had glinted from the trees above.
'A poisoned blade?'
It was a poisoned sword, entirely blackened to suppress reflections—a weapon only assassins would carry.
An ordinary person wouldn't have noticed, but Ok Gi-heun had keen night vision and caught the faintest flicker of light.
"AMBUSH!"
Only assassins carried poisoned swords.
Drawing his sword, Ok Gi-heun shouted loudly, and the sleeping Mount Heng Sect disciples jolted awake.
Thwip-thwip-thwip-thwip!
A rain of concealed projectiles poured from the trees.
Shing!
The Mount Heng Sect disciples drew their swords, deflecting the incoming blades.
"Guh!"
"Ugh!"
But soon, cries of pain erupted from all sides.
The projectiles had been launched with deadly precision, and most of the Mount Heng Sect disciples lacked real combat experience.
Swish—
Before they knew it, black-clad assassins had surrounded them.
The Mount Heng Sect had only nine disciples.
But the assassins numbered over forty.
'We let our guard down!'
Because their journey to Yueyang had been smooth so far, they had begun treating the Golden Divine Pill delivery like a leisurely trip.
Even when camping, they should've chosen a defensible position and set up guards.
"Hand over the Golden Divine Pill, and we'll spare your lives."
The leader of the assassins stepped forward and spoke to Ok Gi-heun.
"There's no need to stake your lives on a blade fight. Wouldn't you agree?"
'They already know we're transporting the Golden Divine Pill.'
Ok Gi-heun gritted his teeth.
Nothing was more terrifying than assassins armed with precise intelligence. They must have revealed themselves so boldly because they were utterly confident in their ability to suppress them.
"We refuse."
"I can't understand it. Why do you escort dogs stake your lives on mere cargo?"
As the assassin sneered, Ok Gi-heun suppressed his rage and raised his voice.
"We are not mere escorts—we are disciples of the Mount Heng Sect!"
The assassin only laughed hoarsely in response.
"That's exactly my point. Even if you're just the dregs of a ruined sect, why stoop to playing escort?"
From the start, the assassins had known exactly who they were dealing with.
"You... you bastards—!"
Ok Gi-heun, trembling with fury, gripped his sword. The lead assassin clicked his tongue.
"Tch. Righteous faction fools, all tangled up in their pride. You lot would rather die honorably than live, wouldn't you? Pathetic."
Then, he turned to the assassins behind him.
"Seems words won't work. Finish them quickly so we can move on."
Swish—
At his command, every assassin drew their poisoned blades.
The moment the swords left their sheaths, a pungent, acrid stench filled the air—proof that the blades had been coated with venom.
"Disciples! Draw your swords and repel the enemy!"
At Ok Gi-heun's shout, the first to unsheathe his sword and retaliate was none other than Myeong-un.
Slash! Slash!
His swordplay was exquisitely precise, piercing straight into the pressure points near the shoulder of an oncoming assassin.
"Ghk—!"
With a single stroke, Myeong-un rendered one assassin's arm useless. The surrounding killers momentarily froze in shock.
"Kill that brat first!"
Seeing this, Hong Jeon-gun raised his sword and roared.
"Support Myeong-un!"
Clang! Clang! Clang!
For a while, the forest echoed with the violent clashing of weapons.
In that time, Myeong-un cut down three assassins. But his senior brothers, fighting back-to-back, staggered as if already drained, barely managing to swing their swords.
"Senior brothers! Just hold on a little longer!"
Myeong-un shouted as he swung his longsword, but it was futile.
The outcome had been decided from the start.
"Aaagh—!"
One by one, his brothers collapsed, their screams tearing through the air.
The assassins deliberately avoided fatal strikes, instead stabbing muscles in the legs and arms to cripple them gruesomely.
"Ugh..."
Low, agonized groans spread through the clearing.
Of the nine Mount Heng Sect disciples, only Myeong-un remained standing, sword in hand.
"Hah... Hah..."
The lead assassin tilted his head, watching Myeong-un gasp for breath.
"Strange. A green brat like you is stronger than your seniors?"
Another assassin cackled.
"Don't tell me your Mount Heng Sect stops training martial arts once you get old? Pfft—HAHA!"
Myeong-un wanted to curse, but he didn't even have the strength to open his mouth.
'This is all my fault.'
Only now did bitter regret crash over him.
If only he had trained harder—if only he had broken free from despair sooner—
Maybe then he could have defeated these ruthless killers and saved his brothers.
'But...'
Thud.
His sword slipped from his grip. Myeong-un bowed his head.
Regret always comes too late.
He didn't have the strength left to even twitch a finger. No matter how much he struggled, nothing would change.
"Pity. You had decent talent."
The assassin clicked his tongue before raising his poisoned blade.
"Best to eliminate future threats. I don't know about the others—but this one dies."
Swish—!
Just as the assassin's sword arced toward Myeong-un's neck—
CLANG!
A deafening impact sent the blade flying backward.
'What—?'
The lead assassin's eyes widened as he stared at the ground.
A tiny pebble had fallen there.
'A Master!'
Someone had infused the stone with immense internal energy, hurling it like an iron ball.
"Who's there?!"
As the assassin shouted, a sudden gust of wind swept through the clearing.
It was a Movement Technique of the Peak Realm—one that erased all traces of its user.
Whoosh...
Black mist swirled up from the earth, coalescing like a human figure, until a faint shadow materialized before the assassins like a ghost.
Clad in a black night suit, face concealed by a mask.
A sword rested at his waist, another on his back. He carried himself less like an assassin and more like an orthodox martial artist.
It was Bu Eun-seol.