The Sword That Should Have Been Sealed
When the battle was over, only two things caught Baek Mugeuk’s eye.
A sword planted forlornly in the ground, and a charred corpse.
“In your next life, be born as a person and live as one.”
Baek Mugeuk swept his blade, sending a gust of sword wind through the air. What remained of Song Wol’s body scattered into gray ash and vanished.
“Thank you for helping us catch that fiend, sir!”
“Thank you!”
From behind Baek Mugeuk came the voices of Jang Won-sul and the Hyeonmu Guard martial artists. Baek Mugeuk turned and looked at them.
They were clasping their hands in salute, heads slightly bowed.
“……”
A brief silence fell. Normally, that was the signal for him to tell them to raise their heads. But Baek Mugeuk said nothing. Instead, a sigh escaped him.
“Ha... The Murim Alliance really is full of idiots, same as ever.”
“Pardon? What do you mean?”
“You can’t even protect your own captain.”
“What are you talking abou—!”
At Baek Mugeuk’s words, Jang Won-sul lifted his head. At that very moment, what met his eyes was Baek Mugeuk swinging his sword toward him.
“W-why...!”
Jang Won-sul let out a scream like a dying man and squeezed his eyes shut.
But he felt no pain.
Realizing something was wrong, Jang Won-sul opened his eyes again and looked himself over from head to toe.
“I-I’m alive...”
There wasn’t a scratch on him.
Then what had Baek Mugeuk cut?
The moment he snapped his head toward where Baek Mugeuk’s sword had stopped, his gaze landed beneath the tree where Jin Mu-heon had been laid down.
“What... is this?”
There, he saw the corpse of a Hyeonmu Guard martial artist who had supposedly already died in the fight with Song Wol. Just moments ago, it had been standing there alive enough to lunge, but now it lay toppled over with its neck severed, a dagger still half-clenched in its hand.
Had the corpse come back to life?
And if so, why had Baek Mugeuk cut it down again?
“Please explain! What exactly happened here?”
“Watch your side.”
Unlike Jang Won-sul’s question, Baek Mugeuk jerked his chin toward the martial artist standing beside him. At the same time, that man drove a dagger into the Hyeonmu Guard member’s flank.
“Ghk!”
The wound wasn’t deep. Because Baek Mugeuk had warned him, he managed to twist slightly at the last moment.
“What the hell is this sort of bullshit! Bind him!”
At Jang Won-sul’s command, the remaining Hyeonmu Guard martial artists swarmed forward and began to subdue him.
But Jang Won-sul still couldn’t make sense of anything happening before his eyes.
“Sir... What on earth is going on?”
He turned toward Baek Mugeuk with a dumbfounded expression, but Baek Mugeuk was already gone.
Song Wol’s sword, which had been stuck in the ground, had also disappeared without a trace.
“What is happening here...?”
Jang Won-sul had no idea. He didn’t know that it wasn’t just Baek Mugeuk and the sword that had vanished, but that one of the surviving Hyeonmu Guard martial artists had already slipped away as well.
* * *
The man in black martial robes poured every last shred of his internal energy into swift lightness skill. He wasn’t merely running.
He masked his presence completely, moving through the darkness with shinyoung, concealing every trace of himself.
His name was Jang Jae-won, a martial artist of the Hyeonmu Guard. Wrapped in cloth inside his robe was Song Wol’s sword.
Something happened that wasn’t part of the plan. I have to move faster.
Even as Jang Jae-won ran like a madman, he kept checking his surroundings and glancing behind him from time to time. Though he sensed no presence at all, he never let his guard down.
Baek Mugeuk. What kind of bastard is he, anyway?
Jang Jae-won recalled Baek Mugeuk’s face. From the instant he had cut down Song Wol to the way he had protected Jin Mu-heon as if he had anticipated their ambush.
He definitely wasn’t on the list of martial artists we were told to watch out for.
Not only was Baek Mugeuk not on the organization’s watch list, there wasn’t even a single person with the Baek surname on it. Where the hell had this bastard come from?
Just before the sun rose to illuminate the dark, his steps stopped atop a tree. In his line of sight stood a thatched house that looked as though no one lived there.
No, it wasn’t just a thatched house. It was an abandoned shack surrounded by rumors of ghosts. The reason this place had become so infamous was simple.
Anyone who went inside really did die.
No one had ever returned alive from that house.
So no one came looking for this ruined place. It wouldn’t have been an exaggeration to say it had been forgotten entirely.
“So I’ve finally arrived?”
Jang Jae-won murmured in a voice that sounded as though some of the tension had left him. And at that moment, a voice came from behind him.
“Took you long enough.”
Jang Jae-won’s eyes flew wide open. But he didn’t even get the chance to turn before he lost consciousness.
* * *
There was no sound inside the abandoned house. It had been left to decay, so there should have been insects or mice or something, but there was nothing of the sort.
Only perfect stillness remained.
Creak.
The instant the house’s door opened, Jang Jae-won walked inside.
Creak.
Only the sound of the door closing filled the shack. And the moment it shut completely, a killing intent slammed into Jang Jae-won like a spear.
“Something’s gone wrong if you’re here before the mission is finished. Is that it, Twenty-One Cock?”
Jang Jae-won, no, Twenty-One Cock, quickly dropped to one knee.
“A problem has arisen in the Third Thunder Prison.”
“The Third Thunder Prison... Song Wol?”
“Yes.”
“What could possibly go wrong there? Don’t tell me Song Wol opened the mechanism and walked out himself.”
“Song Wol escaped.”
“What are you talking about?”
At Twenty-One Cock’s words, a man stepped out of the darkness. He wore a black chicken mask, and the number thirteen was written on it.
“Song Wol can’t open that mechanism by himself. And there was no way a master of that caliber would have been sent into the Third Thunder Prison, so how! How was that mechanism opened!”
“It seems some bastard named Baek Mugeuk opened the door.”
“Why would that bastard be there...? Damn it. That mechanism wasn’t supposed to be opened yet.”
Thirteen Cock clenched his fist hard. It wasn’t time for the operation to begin yet. Song Wol was also someone who should never have been released so easily.
Because his ending was supposed to be death inside that mechanism, together with the sword.
“This isn’t the time for that. Where is Song Wol now?”
“Song Wol is dead.”
“He was subdued that quickly? By whom?”
“Baek Mugeuk.”
“What the hell is this bastard, then!”
The martial artist who subdued Song Wol and the nameless sword was said to be called Baek Mugeuk. Thirteen Cock certainly knew who Baek Mugeuk was.
A young martial artist who had recently come to the Murim Alliance because of Shin-to’s grave. On top of that, he had been making the rounds through the Alliance’s young martial artists in sparring matches, building a name for himself.
Then how had that bastard gotten into the prison in the first place, and how had he managed to subdue Song Wol?
“Baek Mugeuk was stronger than the rumors said. Song Wol died without putting up much of a fight.”
“That was possible? A bastard like that should have had a file on him. Why... no, forget it. That’s not the important part. The sword?”
Jang Jae-won pulled the cloth-wrapped sword from his robe and handed it over.
Thirteen Cock accepted it and peeled away the cloth to inspect the blade.
“At least that’s a relief. We didn’t lose the sword.”
“Yes.”
“The operation isn’t completely ruined. We can prepare again. For now, go back to the Hyeonmu Guard.”
“As you command.”
The moment Twenty-One Cock opened the door and stepped outside, a cold sensation crept along the back of his neck.
“Twenty-One Cock. What did you just say?”
“Why are you acting like this?”
“Shut up and answer the question.”
“As you command... sir?”
Thirteen Cock’s blade pressed against his throat. As it grazed his skin, blood ran down the steel.
“Who are you?”
“What in the world are you talking about! It’s me. Twenty-One Cock!”
Twenty-One Cock’s voice shook violently. The throat against the blade trembled with it.
But Thirteen Cock’s killing intent only intensified.
“At this rate, I’ll really die.”
“If you have no intention of revealing yourself, then die.”
Just as the atmosphere grew taut with tension, a sudden sigh echoed through the abandoned house.
“Ha... I thought I did pretty well... Is there some kind of password you people use among yourselves?”
A strange voice, not Twenty-One Cock’s, came out of his mouth. At that very moment, Thirteen Cock tightened his grip on the sword.
But the blade did not sink into Twenty-One Cock’s neck. The instant he applied force, Twenty-One Cock drew his own blade and knocked it aside.
Seeing that movement, Thirteen Cock was impressed. The sword had already been pressed to the man’s neck, and yet he had brushed it away with such ease.
This one is a master.
The moment he was certain his opponent was a master, Thirteen Cock did not hesitate. He immediately scattered smoke pellets in all directions.
The pellets struck the walls and floor, bursting into thick smoke that swallowed sight. At the same time, hidden within Thirteen Cock’s fingertips, dagger after dagger shot out infused with inner energy.
The daggers smashed through the wall. The instant they did, he threw himself in the direction from which none had been launched. He burst through the wooden wall as if kicking it apart and shot into the wind.
The judgment was sound. The smoke would blind the enemy, and the daggers thrown through the wall would cause confusion.
Move as fast as possible.
With Song Wol’s sword in hand, Thirteen Cock unleashed his lightness skill. From the start, he had been specialized in infiltration and swift movement.
That was why he believed it would be nearly impossible for anyone to catch him once he devoted all the internal energy in his dantian entirely to lightness skill.
How far had he run? He could feel the internal energy in his dantian beginning to dry up.
Almost there. Just a little more.
Since fleeing the abandoned house, he had not sensed the slightest trace of the man. He had already put a good distance between himself and the Murim Alliance, and this was a place with no people at all.
His feet kept moving without pause, and his eyes began to sharpen as well.
“Huff, huff.”
Sweat poured from Thirteen Cock’s entire body as though it were raining. Just before the internal energy in his dantian ran completely dry, something came into view.
A cave!
Without the slightest hesitation, he hurled himself into it.
“Ha... ha...”
Inside the cave, he caught his breath quickly and moved deeper in. Then he drew out a dagger and began carving characters into the wall.
The moment he finished and was about to move again, a voice from the abandoned house rang out.
“Done running?”
“Damn it.”
He had felt no presence at all while racing all the way to the cave. Yet that damned bastard had followed him here after all.
And he was wearing Twenty-One Cock’s face.
He must be exhausted too.
Thirteen Cock glared at Twenty-One Cock and looked for an opening. But contrary to his expectation, unlike Thirteen Cock, who was drenched in sweat, Twenty-One Cock wasn’t sweating at all. He looked as if he had merely taken a leisurely stroll through the mountains.
“What the hell do you want that you’re chasing me like this?”
“That.”
Twenty-One Cock’s hand was pointed toward the sword Thirteen Cock had run off with.
“The sword?”
Thirteen Cock frowned in confusion. Who had given him this sword? Wasn’t it this bastard? And yet he was chasing after him because he wanted the sword?
“Wasn’t this the sword you handed to me yourself? Then what kind of nonsense is it to say you’re chasing me because of this sword?”
“No, I mean all the information related to that sword.”
Twenty-One Cock’s lips curled faintly upward. In that instant, he was certain. This bastard wanted information about the organization.
Thirteen Cock realized he could not run anymore. He looked at the man, then let out a sigh and gripped Song Wol’s sword tightly.
At once, a sound began echoing inside his head.
Cut him down!
Lightning qi sparked across Thirteen Cock’s body as he clutched the sword. At the same time, a fierce confidence surged through him, a feeling that he would never lose to anyone. He lifted his head.
But the bastard was no longer there.
“I already saw that the sword was dangerous.”
“……?”
Twenty-One Cock’s voice came from behind him. In that instant, the world spun.
Thud.
The last thing Thirteen Cock saw as he fell to the ground was Twenty-One Cock checking the words carved into the cave wall.