The Wind Blade's Edge
“Squad Leader Yeo, do you have a moment?”
“What is it?”
Yoo Eunhyeon startled at Mo Dongcheol’s question and asked it right back. Mo Dongcheol merely shrugged, as if the reaction itself were odd.
“Work? Nothing of the sort. You need to decide how far we’re going today so the rest of us can finish up properly.”
Normally, before the day’s labor ended, they would survey how much had been done and estimate tomorrow’s load so that Yoo Eunhyeon could draw the line and say, “This far.” Today, however, there had been no word from him at all, so the curiosity was only natural.
It should be fine now. They seem to be heading back.
From what he could tell, they had not fully withdrawn yet, but their interest had already drifted elsewhere. Relieved, Yoo Eunhyeon rose to his feet.
Only then did he climb a slight rise and survey the entire field. The atmosphere was still a little disordered, yet the work had progressed surprisingly well. Even though he had labored half-heartedly, his mind half-occupied by Sa Yeo-un, the pace had been faster than expected.
“Everyone, let’s stop at whatever section you’re on right now. We moved quickly today, so we’ll wrap up a little early.”
He could not raise his voice, so the words came out somewhat low. The content, however, was more than enough. A cheer rose from the workers all at once.
“Hold on. You can’t just decide that on your own.”
Someone cut through the mood like a knife. It was Byeonak.
“We’re the ones paying, and today’s wages even include a bonus. Even a squad leader can’t arbitrarily shorten the work hours.”
Byeonak’s point was fair enough. Yet Yoo Eunhyeon had made the call with his own calculations already complete.
“It’s only about a quarter-hour earlier than usual. We’ve already done more than enough work to cover it. We’ll finish everything by tomorrow without trouble.”
As he spoke, his gaze slid past Byeonak to Chang-hae standing behind him. The man had been quietly watching him from the very beginning; there was no way not to notice.
At that moment Chang-hae stepped forward half a pace and opened his mouth.
“When you’re told to do something, you do it. Giving reasons on top of that? The Demonic Cult’s hierarchy has truly hit rock bottom.”
The words were absurd. Yoo Eunhyeon was not even a member of the cult, and no one could hold a mere labor foreman to such standards. Still, he knew perfectly well that challenging Chang-hae here would be pure folly. He bowed his head.
“I’m sor—”
The instant his eyes left Chang-hae, a sharp jolt raced through his entire body.
It felt exactly like standing naked in the dead of winter while a north wind howled. The natural energy around him was surging.
Startled, Yoo Eunhyeon dropped to the ground on pure reflex.
“What’s wrong with you? Can’t even apologize properly?”
When he looked up, Chang-hae was staring down at him with a peculiar light in his eyes. In that same instant Yoo Eunhyeon understood what the disturbance in the natural energy had meant. He bit his lip and shook his head as if nothing were amiss.
“It’s nothing. I apologize.”
Chang-hae was not openly releasing killing intent. Killing intent was, after all, nothing more than residual internal energy leaking outward. A skilled assassin could strike before the target ever felt it.
Yoo Eunhyeon, however, was different. He could sense the flow of internal energy moving inside another person’s body as a faint tremor in the natural energy itself. When that energy carried a clear will to attack, the sensation grew razor-sharp.
This bastard… First the provocation, and now he’s seriously thinking of stabbing me once to test it?
Chang-hae still clearly doubted whether he possessed martial arts. And what was the simplest, most certain way to find out? Try to kill the man. Anyone who did not want to die would instinctively fight with everything they had—and the first thing to surface would be their martial skill. It was a rational method, in its own brutal way.
“An apology is enough. Go on. Byeonak—no objections?”
“If Lord Chang-hae is satisfied, I have nothing further to say.”
On the surface the matter seemed settled, yet Yoo Eunhyeon still could not turn his back. The ripple of natural energy radiating from Chang-hae told him exactly what would happen the moment he did.
Damn it. Should I just take one hit? He can’t actually mean to kill me… right?
If he responded properly, the fact that he possessed martial arts would be laid bare. He still did not know how Yeo Chang-dong had handled the Doyakju; fleeing too soon could render everything pointless. If it was only a light threat or a shallow wound, taking the blow might actually be safer.
But if I get hurt badly I won’t be able to run at all. Take the hit first, and if it looks like I’m going to die, pull out the Mukhryongju?
He had hidden the Dark Dragon Pearl deep in his robes for exactly this kind of worst-case scenario. Options existed, but so did the weight of every choice.
In the end he decided he could not hesitate any longer. Just as he prepared to turn away, a faint voice drifted from the distance.
“What’s going on over there?”
It was Sa Yeo-un’s voice—bright with the excitement of someone who had just spotted an interesting spectacle. Yoo Eunhyeon let out a tiny groan.
If she sees me, I’m dead.
He instinctively took a single step backward.
And in that same instant, a razor-sharp wind brushed the nape of his neck.
“Oh-ho? Would you look at that? It was real after all.”
Chang-hae murmured with genuine interest as his surprise attack missed. And no wonder—Yoo Eunhyeon’s movement had not been a simple retreat. He had slipped the strike with a footwork no ordinary person could ever perform, letting the attack flow harmlessly past him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“How did you do it back then? Some special mind method that conceals internal energy?”
“You think I’d tell you?”
“What?”
Now that he had been exposed, there was no further need for pretense. Byeonak still looked utterly lost, but Yoo Eunhyeon cast a brief, bitter glance toward Mo Dongcheol and gave a wry smile.
“I can only hope the message got through. Looks like I’ll have to dodge for real.”
“You think you can?”
“Well now.”
He answered lightly, yet his mind was already racing through calculations.
Even at a glance Chang-hae was no ordinary opponent. That fact itself was not the real problem. The man was strong, but not an absolute threat—at least half a step below Ho Won-jik.
The problem is that this is the Demonic Cult’s front yard. And the bigger problem is…
Before the thought could finish, Sa Yeo-un’s voice rang out again, much closer now.
“Something fun seems to be happening.”
“What could it be?”
The party that had been leaving had heard the commotion and was turning back. Sa Yeo-un’s tone in particular carried the open delight of a child who had just found a new toy.
“I’d better run before they get here.”
“Insolent bastard. How dare you deceive the Cult? I will not let you live.”
Chang-hae’s voice had dropped into cold fury. He drew his sword in one smooth motion and leveled it at Yoo Eunhyeon. There was no longer any reason to hide. Yoo Eunhyeon pulled his internal energy up in a single breath and charged without hesitation.
Whoosh.
In his hand was the sickle he had been using to cut wheat only moments earlier. Mudong Hwanmu, however, cared nothing for the weapon—any blade would do.
Clang!
Chang-hae twisted his sword, deflecting the sickle’s arc and meeting the following strikes in rapid succession.
The difference in reach was decisive. The sword was longer than the sickle, giving Chang-hae a clear advantage in distance.
Fool. Still too green. You should have opened the range right away.
Of course Chang-hae had no intention of offering advice.
After turning aside three or four blows, Chang-hae suddenly felt a chill race down his spine and twisted his body on pure instinct.
Swish.
The sound of wind brushing cloth. A thin line opened across his waist.
“…A blade of wind? Was that you?”
There was good reason for Chang-hae’s shock. Launching sword energy was one thing, but even a third-rate martial artist could send out a gust of wind. Such techniques always carried a tell: something had to be swung, and the wind always came from the direction of the swing.
This attack had been nothing like that. It had not flown from anywhere. It had simply appeared in empty air, a blade of wind born without the slightest warning.
While Chang-hae still reeled, Yoo Eunhyeon adjusted his grip on the sickle.
Tch. Faster than I expected. Looks like the Silver Spirit Wind Blade alone isn’t enough to threaten him.
The wind blade woven from natural energy—the Silver Spirit Wind Blade. Its power was modest, yet it left no precursor and was nearly invisible, making it extremely hard to counter. That Chang-hae had still dodged it told Yoo Eunhyeon everything he needed to know about the man’s skill.
I was going to break away the moment it landed. Now that he’s dodged once, he won’t fall for it again.
He began calculating his next move—only for Sa Yeo-un’s voice to cut the thought short once more.
“Wait a second. I feel like I’ve seen that guy somewhere before…”
She was almost upon them now, and she was starting to recognize him.
In that instant Yoo Eunhyeon abandoned every calculation. There was only one choice left.
No other way. I’ll just have to take a little damage.