The Sharpest Blade in the Darkness (4)
“They’re…… the ones who tried to kill us.”
Dawn broke. As sunlight bathed the plain, the Abyssal Ghost Soul Unit vanished into the shadows like prey fleeing a hunter. The scene that greeted them with the dawn of creation was one of utter devastation.
The surviving examinees realized just how terrifying the previous night’s ordeal had been and fled in panic.
“I know.”
Those left behind were mostly the mercenaries abandoned by their employers. Jin Sowoon suggested prioritizing the critically injured, but the warriors hesitated to move.
“You know, and you’re still going to help them? Young Master Jin…… are you the Buddha himself?”
He shook his head.
“I won’t forgive those who targeted me either. But these guys were just following orders from someone, right?”
Even if peak experts were off-limits for hire, not every mercenary could be at that level. Weaker or poorer families often employed first-rate, second-rate, or even third-rate warriors. And on this plain, the dead were far more likely to be the hires than the hirers, the rank-and-file than the masters.
“The ones abandoned by their employers will just lie here and die.”
“……”
“……”
The examinees who’d brought personal bodyguards for safety had all fled in the crisis. These men had been used like tools. Just like his Small Justice Squad in his previous life.
“Don’t we have people of our own to look after too? Take care of them, and I’ll handle these guys.”
Seong Moran and Namgung Seonhwa, who’d been listening quietly, stepped forward.
“Yeah, let’s do that.”
“Leader, please.”
Gang Seopyo and Cho Mubin, their faces grim, finally nodded.
Twenty warriors from Namgung Clan and Iron Sword Sect had died. A small number compared to their starting sixty, but that didn’t make the loss of comrades any easier to bear. It was the duty of the survivors to at least recover their bodies and bury them in a sunny spot.
Jin Sowoon took Geum Pyo and the gold-silver-bronze brothers to begin emergency treatment on the critically wounded.
The patients, mostly too ashamed to lift their heads, didn’t cry out despite the rough treatment—far from proper care. Only as they staggered away did they mutter a word.
“……Th, thank you.”
He nodded in response instead of speaking.
As noon approached, Namgung Seonhwa and Seong Moran returned.
“We’ll help.”
“You don’t have to push yourselves.”
His actions toward these men stemmed from pity for his past life. Nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t want to burden Namgung Seonhwa and Seong Moran with his own baggage.
“At this rate, we won’t make it through the Three Passes on time. Surviving just to miss the deadline would be the most frustrating thing ever.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
“What’s your plan?”
At that moment, a group of wagons barreled roughly onto the plain.
“Sowoon!”
As expected.
“Yang Branch Leader!”
Yang Gunbaek arrived with Haomen members and physicians.
“……?”
“……?”
Namgung Seonhwa and Seong Moran stared at him, faces full of questions.
“I sent an express pigeon yesterday. Figured a battle would break out around here, so I asked for cleanup help.”
“Ha……”
Namgung Seonhwa and Seong Moran gaped, speechless.
#
“F-Five hundred?”
Jegal Somyeong stared blankly at the Heavenly Eye Pavilion report before picking up another.
Deaths: 480.
A slight drop, but still a staggering number. He shook his head and grabbed the third report. The figures barely budged.
“What the hell……”
In large-scale battles, losing nearly a hundred was common, but this wasn’t a large-scale clash. It was a one-sided assault to steal the passes from Namgung Clan, Iron Sword Sect, and Tae-eul Gate. Once secured, they’d fight among themselves—but Murim folk, quick to gauge power balances, wouldn’t let it devolve into such slaughter.
And the real issue……
The primary targets—Namgung Clan, Iron Sword Sect, and Tae-eul Gate—had mostly survived.
“Why’s that a problem? It’s a miracle.”
“……”
Jegal Somyeong glanced at Maeng Ju-won, who’d barged in uninvited, then at the other Myriad Communications Division members. They’d just argued over the report, moods soured. The subordinates averted their eyes, tense about any nitpick, but Maeng Ju-won jumped in fearlessly. There was a limit to indulgence.
“Deputy Chief Maeng, finished the restructuring proposal?”
“Yes, on your desk, Strategist.”
“……Heard you submitted a promotion from council to division for Jeongdo Council. How’d you reject that?”
“Listed reasons it can’t happen, side effects if promoted, plus Baekdohoe and Twelve Bongseong’s similar requests. Sent to their leader and members. Sample’s on your desk.”
“……Alliance Leader’s auditing Execution Hall soon……”
“They’re stubborn as hell. Myriad or Heart-Mirror Pavilion needs to handle it. Picked post-exam candidates—on your desk.”
“……….”
Maeng Ju-won grinned brazenly at Jegal Somyeong.
“Nothing else to nitpick?”
“…………Why are your eyes so wide open?”
“……”
Jegal Somyeong felt he’d gone too far and subtly shifted to the report.
“What do you think?”
“It’s bizarre, sure. Sowoon’s group was only sixty, facing a thousand—and they survived.”
“You think this ends as a mere oddity?”
“No.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Maeng Ju-won stared blankly at the ceiling, a habit when pondering.
“Too many dead.”
“I can read the report.”
“No, it exceeds the plausible limit for battle deaths.”
“Explain.”
“If I’d moved with Sowoon from Hataek. Options are limited. If going for a frontal fight like him……”
Maeng Ju-won’s fingers twitched, calculating mentally.
“Two hundred. My limit.”
Jegal Somyeong nodded. He’d calculated the same.
“But I wouldn’t survive that scenario.”
Two hundred kills possible. Survival? Not guaranteed. Even Maeng Ju-won said so.
Yet they’d done it. With five hundred dead. Beyond common sense, defying causality.
“What if we underestimated Tae-eul Gate’s strength?”
Few explanations fit: hidden techniques, Sowoon as a rejuvenated elder. Nothing else.
Maeng Ju-won shook his head.
“Tae-eul Gate’s change is pinpointed. Sowoon’s growth timeline too. That speed rules out rejuvenation.”
“Then?”
“Remember that silly talk we had?”
Maeng Ju-won’s “silly talks” were routine, but Jegal caught on.
“Murim Alliance’s downfall?”
“Yes.”
“……”
“No trace of Black Tide because……?”
The biggest issue. Masterminds should leave traces, but none.
“You said what we can’t see still exists.”
“……Another missing piece.”
But no surrounding pieces to fit it.
“Key is the branch reports.”
His head throbbed. Central processing meant nothing if branches blocked info. Branch heads weren’t merit-based; sects schemed to plant disciples, who prioritized sect over Alliance. They filtered reports, twisted incidents.
Worse, victims were Nine Great Clans’ second teams and elite 108 Peaks heirs. Info could be poisoned, solutions derailed.
“Execution Hall acts too late.”
They punished after the fact. Useless in this crunch.
“I’ll go.”
“What?”
“I’ll assess, bring real intel.”
“……”
“And check on Sowoon.”
Jegal pondered, then shook his head and hurled a report at Maeng Ju-won with Leaf-Fire Needle technique. It flew straight for his forehead, but he ducked.
“Gah! What if you hit me? Division stops without me!”
“You know that and wanna go to Honam?”
“How can I not worry about Sowoon?”
“That damn ‘our Sowoon’—you’ve never even met him!”
“That’s why it’s even sweeter—argh!”
The report smacked Maeng Ju-won’s face.
#
“I agonized over your message to reveal our position.”
Yang Gunbaek explained he’d doubted the pigeon’s authenticity upon hearing of the Tae-eul Gate banner.
“Raising Tae-eul Gate’s flag? Insane move, even now.”
Without it, Namgung Seonhwa, Seong Moran, and all would’ve died to the Abyssal Ghost Soul Unit.
“What happened?”
“Attacked by unknowns.”
“Unknowns? Didn’t we say Mudang and Huashan?”
“They never showed.”
“……Then?”
Jin Sowoon produced an Abyssal Ghost Soul Unit arm.
“Eek.”
Yang recoiled at the black-skinned, white-boned monstrosity.
“Wh-What is this?”
“Our attackers.”
“A human arm?”
“Yes.”
“……”
Yang examined it calmly, prodding skin, fiddling with the bone sword.
“Human bone, confirmed.”
“Yes.”
“But the skin feels inhuman.”
The trait of liquefied bone sword procedure victims.
“Look here.”
He stretched the skin like fabric, revealing muscle and bone beneath. Yang gawked, disbelieving his eyes.
“Unbelievable.”
“Twenty like this attacked us.”
“More bodies?”
“Just this. Others dissolved on death.”
Yang eyed it regretfully.
“Pity. More would’ve helped……”
He knew where it’d go without saying.
Jin Sowoon drew Black Dragon Sword, severed the upper arm, and handed it over.
“Sowoon……”
“Lower part’s enough. Not Alliance yet, no obligation.”
“Ah……”
“This’ll widen the gap between Beggars’ Sect and Haomen.”
Yang’s eyes widened, staring between arm and him, realization dawning. He looked eager.
“You called me on purpose.”
“……Yeah, sorta.”
“How to thank you? Our esteemed guest, giving more than anyone.”
If Haomen detected Demonic Cult first via traces, they’d predict outbreaks. Heightening war tension early, Haomen—first investigators—would eclipse Beggars’ Sect. Making the fastest intel network his solid backing.
“For all our sakes, right?”
#
No attacks from Bokyang to Namak. Rumors or arrivals complete, tension eased upon entering. Three Passes area banned pass thefts.
They housed wounded, slept overdue. At dawn, messaged distant warriors of safe arrival, then scattered for tasks before Namak Branch.
“Why still carry that flag?”
Eunho, back early with Seong Moran, eyed the upright Tae-eul Gate banner.
“Sect Leader said not to lower it lightly.”
“Ha! Me again?”
“No, Door Lord.”
“……”
“We survived that hell. Symbol of confidence. ‘We’re unbroken—come at us.’”
“Say that without the candy in your mouth…… Wait, where’d you get snack money?”
He managed funds—frugal, not stingy, but not for a bundle of sweets.
“This? Seong sis bought it.”
“Seong junior? Why?”
Eunho chewed, staring pointedly.
“Eldest brother, your type? Strong women too?”
“If she can protect herself, sure. Why?”
“Good enough.”
“What.”
He muttered, “Similar anyway.” Jin Sowoon shook his head, baffled.
“Blacksmith first.”
Dongryong’s sword style evolved daily, ruining his blade. Good for exam, but couldn’t withstand fully. Chipped teeth, too light now.
“Dongryong needs a new sword.”
“Might not.”
Geum Pyo pointed back. Dongryong, with Namgung Seonhwa, clutched a long cloth-wrapped bundle.
“No need, eldest brother.”
“……What’s that?”
Geum Pyo answered.
“Namgung Seonhwa sis gave him Changgung Sword.”
“……”
Changgung Sword—for official Namgung warriors. Not divine, but iron-alloyed, beyond common.
“Swore siblinghood. Wanted a brother. Gift for ‘take care.’”
“……”
Were they that close? Eyes to Geum Pyo.
“Why empty-handed?”
Sulky Geum Pyo looked up.
“Brother.”
“Yeah?”
“Know any women? Rich, great family, bit older.”
One came to mind, but he stayed silent.
Then, a massive procession clogged the main street.
“What’s that?”
Odd sight: leaders battered everywhere, rear piled with coffins. Like Gyerong but huger. Guards aside, all gravely wounded.
Eunho munched candy.
“Seong sis said half entrants from Hubuk like this.”
“Big battle here too?”
“No, Mudang swept province, disqualifying examinees.”
“……”
“They’ll compete post-Three Passes. Preemptive cull.”
“No mediocres visible.”
Most wounded: 108 Peaks elites.
“Only sects protecting their own do this much.”
Eunho’s words rang true. Like Bokyang—no employer cares for hires post-job.
“Anyway, avoid Mudang or Shaolin.”
Eunho eyed coffin carts, murmuring. Jin Sowoon agreed. Yong So-a sufficed for Mudang grudge.
#
“Not…… so bad, huh.”
Seong Moran’s voice sank leaving the clinic. Plains warriors, seeming fine, collapsed from released tension upon Namak entry. Iron Sword Sect down to twenty. Too few for final exam, regardless.
“Surviving that hell’s a miracle.”
“……Yes.”
Hundreds dead overnight. Without Jin Sowoon, they’d be among the corpses.
“Miracle.”
“Sticking with Young Master Jin means no big troubles ahead.”
Seong Moran blinked at Cho Mubin.
“Why the look?”
“Didn’t you hate him?”
Cho flushed.
“Ancient history, miss. He was our rival then.”
“Different now?”
“Future son-in-law……”
“Pardon?”
“Ahem, n-never mind. Here……”
Cho changed topic, pulling a palm-sized ornament.
“Not powder puff?”
“Yes.”
“I bathed. Still dirty?”
“No. Saw Gang Seopyo sneak to Namgung junior’s accessory shop while you bathed.”
“……Accessory shop?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Cho sighed at her obliviousness. Could she date like this? But couldn’t ruin Namgung Seonhwa-Seong Moran bond over romance.
“Better than nothing, right?”
“Three Passes’ll dirt us up anyway. Why bother?”
Cho cleared throat.
“Worried Young Master Jin sees you too tomboyish……”
“What? Brother, that’s……”
Seong Moran thought her crush hidden. Blunt and bro-like in sect, but prodded on him, she blushed girlishly.
“If you insist, fine. Give to my wife……”
“Wait.”
“Yes?”
She fidgeted index fingers.
“……He said he likes strong women.”
Cho beamed, offering puff.
“Same strength, picks prettier, no?”
“……Trust you?”
“You saw my wife? Iron Sword beauty.”
“How’d this mug land her? Trust me.”
“O-Okay.”
Seong Moran powdered lightly, turning.
“H-How? Okay?”
“Perfect natural. Next, this.”
Another box.
“Hair oil. Men love glossy hair.”
“……”
“Lip rouge.”
“Cho captain, why expert on makeup?”
“Wife’s errands? Next life, woman.”
Primped, with Cho’s okay, they headed to Murim Alliance Namak Branch.
“More people than expected.”
“Three Passes draw more spectators than entrants.”
“Atmosphere too hostile?”
Pushing through crowd, they spotted Jin Sowoon and Namgung Seonhwa. Latter bloomed gorgeously, belying the war.
“See……”
Cho started boasting, but hushed at the mood.
As they approached, Jin Sowoon turned.
“You’re here.”
“Yes. But who’re……”
Before them stood middle-aged men in varied uniforms, swords sheathed in a row. Dozens of youths—their disciples—behind.
“From Mudang, Huashan, and sects whose Bokyang dead.”