Thirteen Faces Under the Scarlet Moon
Thirteen freaks wearing the same face surrounded Yeong-hwa and Hagun.
Thirteen swords lunged for Yeong-hwa as one.
Shuaaaaaaaah—
Pure white sword-qi blossomed along Hagun’s blade.
The Songmun Ancient Sword slipped between them, brushing past the tips of the freaks’ weapons.
Tchak— tchak— tchak— tchak— tchak— tchak—
Every enemy blade clung to Hagun’s sword as if drawn by a magnet.
He dropped his stance and pulled downward, shattering their balance.
Tat— tat— tat—
Faced with the loss of their weapons, the freaks abandoned their strikes and sprang back.
It was the eighth form of the Taiji Thirteen Swords—Wind Rolls the Lotus Leaves.
Eighth form of the Taiji Thirteen Swords — a sweeping, binding current that draws every opposing edge into a single vortex and collapses the enemy’s center.
Hagun and Yeong-hwa pressed their backs together.
“Yeong-hwa, I’ll buy you time—run!”
Resolve hardened every line of Hagun’s face.
Yeong-hwa only snorted.
“Have you forgotten where we stand?”
“What do you mean?”
“Even if the Three Goddesses pressed me down, you still dared to slight the Azure Dragon God.”
Yeong-hwa raised his sword to chest height and began to chant.
Azure Emperor of the East, Blue Dragon God who protects,
Banish every disease, hardship, and calamity.
Iron Horse General who patrols the five directions, messenger of the turning gods,
Wind General who shatters foes and drives ghosts away—never shall they invade.
Om, swiftly, swiftly as the law commands, svaha.
Chiik— chiik— chiiiik— chiiiik—
The instant the mantra ended, a pillar of Azure Heaven Qi erupted from the Namgung Clan’s Investigation Hall.
The blue radiance crashed down upon one of the thirteen freaks.
“Kuaaaaaaah!”
The struck man collapsed, thrashing as though his soul were being torn free.
Yeong-hwa shouted urgently.
“That one is the real Second Young Master of the Namgung Clan!”
Saaaaaah—
The gentle breeze turned fierce.
Hagun, who had been locked in desperate defense, felt his eyes sharpen.
“Senior Brother Hagun!”
“I understand, Yeong-hwa!”
Their gazes locked; both nodded once.
One freak lunged to spear the fallen Second Young Master.
Tat—
Yeong-hwa thrust his sword forward and kicked off the ground.
At the same moment Hagun’s sheathed waist twisted in an impossible arc.
Yeong-hwa wove between the blades like a swallow, parrying and ducking low.
Skaaaaaang—
Hagun’s sword flashed free of its scabbard, releasing a single razor line of sword-qi.
Seogeok—
The freaks scrambled to block, yet their blades themselves were sheared clean through by Hagun’s edge.
Puuuuk—
Through the opening Hagun had carved, Yeong-hwa’s sword punched straight through the heart of the man who had aimed at the Second Young Master.
Chaenggeurang—
Yeong-hwa kicked the corpse free and yanked his blade clear.
“Young Master Namgung!”
Chalssak— chalssak— chalssak—
He slapped the young man’s cheeks again and again.
The Second Young Master did not stir.
Yeong-hwa closed his eyes and ran both hands over the body, searching.
His fingers stopped on the blue cloth bound across the young master’s brow.
Jjiiiiik—
Without hesitation he ripped the cloth away.
“Huuuuh!”
The Second Young Master sucked in a desperate breath.
“Where… where is this place?”
Yeong-hwa turned the cloth over in his hands.
“You remember nothing, do you?”
The young master seized Yeong-hwa’s arm in panic.
“Miss Moyong—what has become of Miss Moyong?”
Yeong-hwa’s expression softened into a warm smile.
“You truly loved her.”
“Because of Father’s opposition I nearly had to marry someone else instead of Miss Moyong…”
“No.”
“I took her hand and fled!”
Yeong-hwa sighed at the rambling and shot Hagun a look.
Peok—
Hagun’s sword pommel struck the blood point on the young master’s neck.
He slumped unconscious at once.
Hagun wiped sweat from his brow.
“Did you find something?”
Yeong-hwa answered with a silent nod.
“Up we go.”
Hagun hoisted the Second Young Master across his shoulders.
Yeong-hwa lifted his gaze to the blood-red moon and murmured,
“Tonight is going to be a long one.”
When Yeong-hwa and Hagun returned to the Namgung Clan, chaos erupted.
The Azure Sky Guard raced back up to the Investigation Hall to seize the remaining freaks who still wore the Second Young Master’s face.
In the Second Young Master’s chamber, Clan Lord Namgung Shin exhaled a long sigh over his still-groaning son.
“I failed as a father. I could not even trust my own child.”
Yeong-hwa, standing behind him, shook his head.
“The lustful mania Your Lordship feared in the Second Young Master is almost certainly false as well.”
“Is that true?”
The clan lord, who had been stroking his son’s brow, shot to his feet and stared at Yeong-hwa.
“Just in time.”
Commotion rose outside.
“Clan Lord!”
Namgung Shin hurried out.
The sight of the freaks who shared his son’s face made him stagger under the blow.
An Azure Sky Guard pinched the skin of one freak’s cheek.
“This is no human-skin mask.”
Jjiiiiik—
Yeong-hwa stepped forward and tore the blue cloth from the freak’s forehead.
A slender needle was driven into the flesh beneath.
The moment he drew it free, the bones of the face twisted with a grotesque grinding.
Pudeudeuk— pudeuk— pudeuk—
The freak’s true features reappeared.
Yeong-hwa clicked his tongue.
“This kind of sorcery always leaves lifelong aftereffects…”
Hyeonsong spoke.
“It is Reverse Transformation Arts.”
“Reverse Transformation Arts?”
“A lesser technique under the Reverse Appearance Arts.”
Hyeonsong’s brow furrowed.
“Forcing a face to change… even the unorthodox paths of the demonic rarely dare to use it.”
Moments later the First Young Master, Namgung Hwi, burst through the main gate.
“Father!”
“We have found the Second.”
“Is Sang unharmed?”
“Daoist Yeong-hwa says he will rise tomorrow.”
Namgung Shin laid a hand on Hwi’s shoulder.
“You must go to the government office at once and summon the official troops.”
“Yes, Father.”
“I leave the rest in your hands.”
“Do not worry.”
Namgung Hwi departed at once with a detachment of the Azure Sky Guard.
Yeong-hwa addressed the remaining guards.
“All right, men of the Azure Sky Guard!”
After the wonders they had witnessed, absolute trust shone in their eyes.
“Yes, Daoist Yeong-hwa.”
“From this moment, carefully remove the cloths from every freak’s forehead.”
“Yes!”
Jjiiiik— jjiiiik— jjiiiik—
“Bring every scrap of cloth to me!”
Yeong-hwa sat and began to examine them one by one.
He gently parted the layers of blue silk.
“Just as I thought.”
Between the thin folds lay a tiny talisman.
He held it up for Clan Lord Namgung Shin to see.
“Clan Lord, how could anyone remain whole while wearing something so unclean on his brow?”
Namgung Shin’s hand trembled with rage as it closed on his sword hilt.
“What filth dares lay hands on the Namgung Clan…”
Yeong-hwa regarded him quietly.
“Clan Lord, when did it begin?”
“What do you mean?”
“When did the Second Young Master first start binding his forehead with cloth?”
“That is…”
“Speak the truth.”
Yeong-hwa rose, drew a handful of rice grains from the pouch at his waist, and scattered them across the floor.
Chwaaaak—
He studied the pattern they formed.
“You opposed it.”
Namgung Shin’s head hung low.
“Why? The other family was hardly unworthy.”
Still bowed, the clan lord answered softly.
“All Azure Sky Guards, withdraw.”
“Yes… Clan Lord.”
He turned to the maids as well.
“Permit no one into Sang’s quarters. You will leave as well.”
“Understood, Clan Lord.”
When the room was empty, Namgung Shin lifted his gaze to the mournful scarlet moon.
“My house and the Moyong Clan are bound by an evil fate.”
Hyeonsong tilted his head.
“Clan Lord, though I am not well-versed in the affairs of the martial world, I have never heard of such an incident.”
Namgung Shin’s smile was bitter.
“It is not a feud between the clans.”
“It is a private bond between myself and the First Lady of the Moyong Clan.”
His eyes grew distant, as though looking back through the years.
“What more can a man say who fled from love and from a vow?”
And so Namgung Shin began to tell the long story he had kept locked inside his heart.
Deep in the mountains, where a quiet valley stream ran, a martial artist in blue robes glanced about.
“Namgung Shin!”
At the cry a young woman stepped from behind a tree.
Namgung Shin clasped his fists in greeting.
“I have come, Miss Wi!”
Peok—
She playfully struck him in the solar plexus.
“What do you mean, Miss Wi!”
“So-yeon, can’t a man even tease?”
The Namgung Shin of that day was far younger than the man who now ruled the clan.
A youth just come of age, and a maiden in the full bloom of her years.
Was there ever a more flowering season?
Namgung Shin threw out his chest and declared to Wi So-yeon,
“At last this body has become Young Clan Lord of the Namgung!”
She threw herself into his arms.
“At last! Congratulations, Shin!”
His face flushed as he carefully laid a hand upon her back.
“So-yeon, I will speak formally to Father about us now.”
She drew back just far enough to look straight into his eyes.
“You truly never forgot.”
“How could I forget? I told you again and again since we were children.”
She mimicked his voice with an adorable pout.
“‘I swear I shall become Young Clan Lord of the Namgung and propose to Miss Wi of the Manri Merchant Group!’”
He scratched his head, embarrassed.
“Five years already since I made that vow to you.”
“I know.”
She grumbled.
“I thought I would wait forever and die a lonely old maid!”
“You didn’t trust me!”
“Only a jest, Young Master Namgung.”
She lifted the hem of her skirt in a playful curtsy.
Then she took his sleeve and led him away.
They came to a broad rock overlooking the entire valley.
Seated side by side, they felt the cool spring breeze drift between them.
Even silence was sweet; they leaned their heads together.
Wi So-yeon spoke first.
“When will you tell the Clan Lord?”
Namgung Shin skipped a stone across the stream.
“Today. Right away.”
At his bold, reliable words she smiled.
“Then I’ll tell Father today as well.”
Hearing the shy note in her voice, he covered her hand with his own.
Her voice trembled.
“I wish it could always be like this.”
“Don’t worry. It will be. I promise.”
“Ah—wait!”
He fumbled at his waist and produced something.
Turning her, he fastened a necklace about her throat.
A leather cord held a single white lily carved from jade.
“A pledge of our hearts.”
Tears welled in her eyes.
“So-yeon, they say the lily means eternal love.”
Jjok—
The moment the words left him, she pressed a brief kiss to his cheek.
Then she laid a finger across his lips and whispered, shyly,
“The rest… on our wedding night…”
A smile bloomed across Namgung Shin’s face as though nothing in the world could be better.
Wi So-yeon covered her mouth and laughed with equal shyness.
Wi So-yeon, youngest daughter of Anhui’s foremost merchant house—the Manri Merchant Group.
Namgung Shin, eldest son of Anhui’s greatest martial clan—the Namgung.
Was there ever a pair more perfectly matched?
Moreover, in Anhui the Manri Merchant Group and the Namgung Clan had long stood in close alliance.
Together they painted a future of nothing but flowered roads ahead.