Chapter 737
The woman, who had taken the money pouch back, widened her eyes as if she couldn't comprehend what had just happened.
"What did you say?"
Bu Eun-seol didn't even bother to answer and simply climbed into the empty carriage.
"Hey!"
Angered, she yanked the carriage door open, but—
Cough, cough.
Bu Eun-seol, now seated inside, began to cough violently.
When blood mixed with his cough, the bandages wrapped around him were instantly dyed red.
Seeing this, the woman's heart softened slightly.
"Fine, I guess there's no helping it."
Frowning, she reluctantly closed the carriage door.
"It'll just have to be an uncomfortable ride."
"Young Lady, there are plenty of skilled coachmen here."
"Hmph, you can't fool my eyes."
The woman scanned the inside of the relay station and declared firmly,
"The old man here is the best, isn't he? Am I wrong?"
Just like Bu Eun-seol, she had discerned that the elderly coachman possessed the finest skills in the area and that his carriage was in impeccable condition.
After all, the most crucial factors in a carriage journey were the driver's skill and the carriage's state.
But forcing an unwilling patient—even with extra money—was out of the question.
In the end, she began haggling for another carriage.
Meanwhile, the carriage carrying Bu Eun-seol slowly started moving, trailing behind the merchant procession.
Clack, clack.
Sitting inside the gently rocking carriage, Bu Eun-seol stared out the window with a grave expression.
'Who was that monk?'
The monk's prayer had been ordinary, but his eyes held a mysterious glow.
It was the kind of eye light one only saw in masters who commanded the world.
Had it not been for the bandages obscuring his appearance, Bu Eun-seol might have even suspected that the monk was none other than the Buddhist Venerable in disguise.
'And on top of that, he knew about the Martial Venerable's Treasury, something only the Martial Venerable and Mu-gyeol should be aware of?'
Recalling the monk's gaze, Bu Eun-seol's eyes narrowed.
Despite his shabby appearance,
that monk was undoubtedly a master of extraordinary internal energy.
Cough, cough.
Lost in thought, he coughed again.
His internal energy was nearly depleted, and his body had no strength left.
The carriage was moving at a snail's pace, yet even the slight jostling made him dizzy.
'At least the Ink Soul Sword looks like this—it's a small mercy.'
The Ink Soul Sword bore the appearance of a plain, unremarkable iron blade—the kind so common that it could be wielded by anyone.
Whether Bu Eun-seol used it, Seon-u Jin used it, or even some third-rate martial artist swung it,
no one would be able to tell the difference.
Clack, clack.
Before long, the carriage was passing through a mountain path.
But at some point, its speed slowed noticeably.
'This isn't good.'
A foreboding premonition flickered through his mind.
And soon, it became reality.
—Halt!
A loud shout echoed, followed by—
Thud, thud, thud, thud.
The sound of a large group moving in unison.
Peering out the window, Bu Eun-seol saw around a hundred bandits surrounding the merchant group.
Moreover, their attire was varied, and the quality of their clothing was surprisingly high—
far from the typical ragtag mountain thieves.
'They don't seem like nameless bandits.'
This region wasn't under the influence of the Righteous Faction, the Demonic Path, or even the Green Forest Bandits.
Because of that, lawless thieves often appeared to loot merchant caravans.
But the movements of these bandits were far swifter and more systematic than even those of a proper Green Forest stronghold.
They were clearly not ordinary bandits—more like martial masters disguised as thieves.
'They have some kind of objective.'
A flash of light surged in Bu Eun-seol's eyes.
There was no way a group of that caliber would come just for the meager wealth of a small merchant group.
They undoubtedly had another purpose.
"Where might you honorable heroes hail from?"
At that moment, the leader of the warriors escorting the merchant group stepped forward.
"This humble one's eyes are dim, so I failed to recognize your esteemed selves."
The middle-aged man glanced down at the silver saber at his waist, then clasped his hands toward the bandits.
"I am Gwa Cheon-ho. My fellow martial artists in the Rivers and Lakes have bestowed upon me the rather excessive title of Thousand-Victory Silver Saber."
Bandits didn't operate for just a year or two.
Most of the time, if the merchant group offered a reasonable sum and allowed them to save face, they would retreat peacefully.
That was why merchant groups always hired well-connected martial artists—
those capable of negotiating smoothly when bandits appeared.
Gwa Cheon-ho was one such martial master, hired precisely for that purpose.
"Never heard of you. Some nobody, huh?"
When the bandit leader snorted in disdain, Gwa Cheon-ho's eyes bulged.
"What did you just say?"
"Stay out of this. We just need to confirm something, that's all."
"Confirm what?"
"None of your damn business."
The bandit leader nodded at his subordinates, and the surrounding bandits slowly advanced.
Gwa Cheon-ho drew his silver saber and declared,
"Even thieves have their own code. These are mere merchants who've never trained in martial arts—since when is it acceptable to draw blades and oppress them without reason?"
Then he stepped forward boldly.
"State your affiliation and purpose clearly. Otherwise, there will be no negotiations."
"Negotiations? Don't make me laugh."
The bandit leader stroked his chin, then shook his head.
"Too much trouble... Might as well just kill them all."
Then he barked at his men,
"No need to confirm anything. Just slaughter them all."
Swoosh.
In an instant, the bandits unsheathed their blades and began cutting down the guardian warriors escorting the merchant group.
"Aaaagh!"
The warriors, caught off guard, let out agonized screams.
Even the most reckless bandits usually sought wealth—they didn't indiscriminately slaughter people for no reason.
But these men were slaughtering people like bloodthirsty ghosts who couldn't wait to kill.
It didn't matter whether they were guardian warriors or merchants—they were cutting them all down indiscriminately.
"You bastards!"
Gwa Cheon-ho swung his silver blade, engaging the bandits.
"Stop them!"
At his shout, the martial artists guarding the merchant group also drew their swords and began to fight back.
"Agh!"
"Uwaaak!"
Screams rang out in rapid succession as the warriors began to fall in gruesome fashion.
The bandits' skills were extraordinary—far beyond what the merchant group's guards could handle.
Moreover, their saber techniques were—
—ruthless, as if they were facing mortal enemies, slicing through torsos and skulls without hesitation.
They employed brutally cruel methods.
By the time the warriors had collapsed and the bandits' blades began descending upon the merchants—
"You vile scum!"
—the door of one carriage suddenly burst open, and a woman wearing a veil stepped forward, twin swords in hand.
It was the very same woman from the merchant group who had earlier tried to borrow Bu Eun-seol's carriage.
"So here you were."
The bandit leader swept his gaze over her before letting out a grating laugh.
"Hiding in the merchant procession like a rat!"
As it turned out, the bandits' true objective in attacking the merchant group was to find this twin-sword-wielding woman.
"You heartless monsters! How dare you slaughter innocent civilians!"
Enraged by the sight of the brutally slain corpses, the woman unsheathed her twin swords and immediately unleashed her sword techniques, cutting down the bandits.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
Her swordplay was refined and sharp, as if she had learned from a master—
—but unfortunately, she had almost no real combat experience.
The advantage of dual swords lay in their ability to deliver relentless chain attacks and—
—their unpredictable feints, allowing the wielder to freely exploit the subtleties of evasion.
Yet the woman's swordplay was all about beautiful, fluid stances—
—visually dazzling and flashy, but—
—in actual combat, she was pointlessly spamming useless moves.
"Not bad."
After she felled several bandits with her flamboyant twin-sword techniques—
"Heh heh heh. I'll take care of this one myself."
—the leader drew his blade with a sinister chuckle and stepped forward.
Shwaaak!
As the leader's heavy saber unleashed a razor-sharp technique, the woman leapt up like a butterfly, dodging the attack and countering.
But this turned out to be a fatal mistake.
"She should've kept both feet planted on the ground."
The leader relentlessly unleashed precise saber techniques, preventing her from landing and forcing her to remain airborne.
To block his attacks, she had no choice but to continuously use Lightness Skill to keep herself aloft.
While the leader stood firmly on the ground, striking with stability—
—she was stuck midair, barely defending, exhausting her Internal Power and losing balance with every clash.
Eventually, she was trapped—unable to advance or retreat, draining her stamina with every weapon clash while suspended in the air.
Clang!
Finally, one of the swords in her left hand was knocked away.
The only advantage she had was her dual-wielding—
—and with one sword gone, her stance collapsed beyond recovery.
Thud!
A single palm strike from the leader sent her tumbling to the ground like a bird with broken wings.
She scrambled back up, but internal injuries had clearly taken their toll—a thin trail of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.
"Did my uncle send you?"
"None of your business."
As the leader raised his saber, the woman swallowed the blood in her mouth and spoke.
"These people are innocent civilians. They have nothing to do with me."
"So?"
"Let them go. You only need to kill me, don't you?"
"Heh heh heh. How noble of you."
The leader glanced at the trembling merchants before letting out a cold laugh.
"I'd love to, but I've been hired for a job."
"Hired?"
"The request was to make it look like they were robbed and killed by bandits."
The leader smirked faintly.
"The Blood Claw Sect's assassins don't go back on their contracts."
At the mention of the Blood Claw Sect, the merchants' faces turned deathly pale.
These weren't mere bandits—they were renowned first-rate assassins from the murim, disguised as thieves to slaughter everyone, including the woman.
"So it's the Blood Claw Sect..."
As the woman bit her lip—
—the leader of the assassins, Ma Deung, the First Slayer of the Blood Claw Sect, grinned darkly.
"If you've realized it now, just give up."
Then, as if struck by a thought, he shook his head.
"No, actually... it'd be a waste to just kill you."
Ma Deung's gaze slid over the veiled woman's slender frame before he licked his lips.
"The contract didn't specify how you had to die."
It seemed he had decided to rape and kill her—a sinister flame burning in his eyes.
"Kill the rest of them. As for me... I've got some business to attend to."
Ma Deung flicked his tongue before—
Tap.
—pressing her Demon Blood Point.
"Heh heh, fresh meat like you won't even smell of blood."
Just as Ma Deung turned to carry the woman away—
Creeeak.
—the sound of an old carriage door shattered the silence.
It was just the groan of rusty hinges, yet it carried an oddly drawn-out resonance.
Thud.
A shadow stepped out of the carriage, accompanied by heavy footsteps.
A man with an old iron sword loosely strapped to his waist, his face wrapped tightly in pus-stained bandages.
It was Bu Eun-seol.
"And what the hell is this one?"
Ma Deung studied Bu Eun-seol's appearance carefully before noticing the rusted iron sword at his waist—his brow furrowing in disdain.
"A pitiful hero has arrived. Kill him immediately."
At the command, three of the bandits—no, the assassins of the Blood Claw Sect—surrounded Bu Eun-seol.
Staggering.
Bu Eun-seol walked toward them with feeble movements, then—
Sshhk.
With great effort, he drew Ink Soul Sword, which had been disguised as a cheap iron blade.
"Hahaha."
The tense assassins burst into incredulous laughter at the sight.
Though his face was tightly wrapped in bandages, obscuring his expression, his gait was unsteady, and the hand gripping the sword trembled constantly.
Moreover, despite having drawn his sword, there was no trace of sharp sword qi, let alone any shockwave of internal energy.
In short, it was the sight of a typical third-rate martial artist putting on a brave front.
Shhhk.
As Bu Eun-seol weakly raised his sword, one of the assassins sneered.
"A lunatic trembling while holding a sword—"
But he couldn't finish his words.
Thud.
Before he knew it, a dull black iron blade had pierced his throat.
Despite the motion appearing weak, almost laughable, the sword had somehow instantly impaled the assassin's neck.
"He's a master concealing his true strength!"
Ma Deung, shocked by Bu Eun-seol's single move, shouted loudly.
"Deploy the Poisonous Path Blood Formation!"
Rumble.
Moving in perfect unison, they unleashed the Blood Claw Sect's famed saber formation.
Whoosh!
The assassins rushed forward in unison, blades extended.
One of the Poisonous Path Blood Formation's abilities was not only to completely trap its target within the formation but also to unleash non-overlapping attacks without obstruction.
Clang! Clang!
As razor-sharp sword qi cascaded like waves, Bu Eun-seol instinctively twisted his body to evade.
But his movements were sluggish, his steps unsteady, causing his evasion to lag half a beat behind.
Splat! Splat!
A sharp blade grazed his shoulder, sending blood flying.
Bu Eun-seol's eyes narrowed as he stared at the bloodstains on the ground.
'My body has no strength right now. I must move as little as possible and dismantle them one by one with sword techniques alone.'
Naturally, the assassins expected Bu Eun-seol to either desperately escape the formation or move swiftly.
So they preemptively wove a net of razor-sharp saber strikes around him.
But Bu Eun-seol stood firm at the center of the storm-like sword formation, silently swinging his longsword—wasn't he?
Whoosh!
In the end, the meticulously crafted net of blades passed harmlessly by him, missing by a hair's breadth.
"Strike!"
The assassins within the formation unleashed another volley of lethal techniques.
But with every movement of that dull, black iron sword, the flaws in their own sword techniques were laid bare.
And with every thrust of his blade, assassins collapsed, their vital points pierced.
—How is this possible?
A man whose body swayed unsteadily from the passing sword winds, lacking even the strength to stand firm—how could his sword techniques be so advanced?
"Fire the hidden weapons!"
Realizing Bu Eun-seol's extraordinary swordsmanship, the assassins swiftly retreated before rapidly moving again, launching hidden weapons.
Clang!
As sword and hidden weapons clashed, a powerful vibration shook Bu Eun-seol's body.
The hidden weapons were infused with dense internal energy, nearly knocking Ink Soul Sword from his grip.
'No need to block them head-on.'
When his internal energy had been overflowing, he could have deflected or returned the hidden weapons using the Return to Rightful Owner method.
But now, with almost no internal energy left, he couldn't afford to take them head-on.
Ting! Ting!
Bu Eun-seol tilted his sword slightly, deflecting the hidden weapons at an angle.
A direct block would have been impossible to withstand, but by angling the deflection, he could partially neutralize the force behind them.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
But such a feat required not only supreme swordsmanship but also the ability to precisely discern the shape and trajectory of the hidden weapons.
Though Bu Eun-seol had almost no energy left and struggled to move his body, the Way of the Beast dwelling within him allowed him to deflect the hidden weapons effortlessly.
Yet, hidden weapons weren't his only concern.
Swish!
No sooner had the barrage of hidden weapons ceased than countless assassins unleashed another storm of attacks.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Stars burst before his eyes with every breath, and hot blood surged in his chest with every swing of his sword.
But Bu Eun-seol bit his lip until it bled, forcing himself to stay sharp.
'If I fall, every innocent here will die.'
His own death didn't matter.
He had long since stopped caring about life and death.
But he couldn't stand by and watch innocent people die.
Slash! Slash! Slash!
Focusing his mind, Bu Eun-seol unleashed his sword techniques once more upon the assassins.
Though his movements were unsteady, he had already struck the vital points of over thirty assassins, felling them one by one.
Every time his longsword struck, the assassins let out choked gasps, desperately trying to block—
But his sword techniques moved in unpredictable trajectories, as if alive.
The way he unleashed and retracted his forms was so subtle it defied the eye.
—What is this?
Fear gradually took hold of the assassins.
Bu Eun-seol's movements lacked power.
His sword trajectories were erratic, like a drunkard swinging a blade.
Yet no one could stop a single one of his strikes.
Thud. Thud.
Now, he fought like a drunken old man stumbling about, his swordplay seemingly on the verge of collapse.
Thump. Thud.
But the ones who fell were always the assassins.
After a quarter of an hour, every assassin except Ma Deung lay dead, their vital points pierced.
"..."
Ma Deung stood frozen, unable to believe the scene before him.
Not only Ma Deung, but even the merchant group's traders and guardian warriors who had been watching the scene—
All of them stood slack-jawed, drool trickling from their open mouths.