Finally Found
"Kuhahaha! If you want to pass this road, hand over everything you've got!"
The moment I heard that gravelly voice laced with metallic undertones, the tension drained from my frozen body, and I let out a silent chuckle inside. No way... bandits?
Come to think of it, the month-long journey from Nakyang to Yodong had been too peaceful and quiet. In every rugged mountain pass devoid of people or deep forest trail, you'd inevitably run into a pack of brainless bandits blocking the way and demanding tolls. Wasn't this the most clichéd cliché from the countless wuxia novels I'd read and written in my past life?
I got spooked over some small-fry nobodies. I sighed in relief and leaned against the carriage window.
Anyway, the folks in this expedition were the top students from Cheongryong Mugwan, the academy that trained the world's finest warriors, along with their veteran instructors brimming with real combat experience. It was obvious that even a horde of dozens of local bandits swinging clubs or rusty swords couldn't lay a finger on them—they'd scatter like leaves in the wind.
"Hand over everything you've got! Then we'll kill you painlessly, nice and easy!"
Huh? My train of thought screeched to a halt. Did I hear that right?
In these situations, bandits had a standard script. 'Hand over your stuff and surrender quietly, and we'll spare your lives!' That was the ironclad "code of honor" and basic rule of the murim bandit world, wasn't it? If they were gonna rob you blind and kill you anyway, why would anyone hand over their goods and surrender like an idiot? Of course they'd bare their teeth and fight desperately for their lives.
A bandit threatening a painless death without even pretending to follow the code? These guys didn't seem like your run-of-the-mill bandits scraping by on merchant caravans. They were something else.
"Master."
Hwangbo Suyeon, who had been glaring sharply outside the carriage, turned to me. Her expression was more grave and icy than I'd ever seen.
"The aura from those outside is far from ordinary. They're no mere band of nokrim bandits."
She clenched her small fist tightly and declared resolutely to me.
"I will protect Master's noble body at all costs. No matter what they do, please stay inside this carriage and do not step out."
Without waiting for my reply, Hwangbo Suyeon kicked open the carriage door and leaped out.
"Suyeon!"
Terrified at being left alone, I shouted after her, but she was already gone.
Honestly, part of me was dying to watch her crush those arrogant bastards' skulls with fluid dynamics right before my eyes. But I only had one life, and I was just a frail modern guy who didn't know the first thing about martial arts—a slave to the written word. Sure, I'd made bank, but that slave contract from last year had me chained for nine more years. Rich slave, basically.
Anyway, the longest survivors on a battlefield weren't the heroes—they were the ones huddled quietly in the sturdiest, safest bunker. I pressed my back flat against the wooden wall of the carriage, held my breath, and strained to catch every sound from outside.
Through the window, I heard vicious shouts and curses flying back and forth for a while. The instructors were probably up front, barking about their affiliation and righteous cause to intimidate the bandits.
But the verbal sparring didn't last long.
Clang! Kaaang!
The heavy clash of metal shattered the silence.
"Kaaack!"
"Guhk! M-my arm...!"
What followed were screams I never wanted to hear—flesh tearing, bones snapping in gruesome agony. A full-blown bloodbath had begun.
With trembling hands, I cracked the small carriage window open just a sliver and peeked outside.
The sight that unfolded was a far cry from the satisfying beatdown I'd imagined—a hellish nightmare of devastation.
"No... ugh."
Despair leaked from my lips along with rising nausea.
Those proud, vigorous top students of Cheongryong Mugwan, the academy's future elite—they were collapsing like harvested cornstalks under the bandits' savage blades, vomiting blood.
It was an overwhelming display of power that shattered every cliché. No way these were just bandits.
And what shook my pupils the hardest was the massive cleavers dancing in their hands. On those bluish blades, a horrific energy unlike the pure qi of orthodox sects or the turbid qi of unorthodox ones writhed like living blood from the dead—inky, nauseating true essence.
Suyeon's right. These aren't ordinary bandits!
The instructors' response was too late and complacent. At first, assuming they were just regular bandits, they'd hung back, letting the students gain experience while offering pointers. But witnessing the students being helplessly shredded in fountains of blood shocked them into pallor, and they finally unleashed their martial arts in earnest.
"You demonic scum! How dare you touch Cheongryong Mugwan!"
Their sword qi shot out in all directions, surging fiercely at the bandits. But it had little effect. The bandits casually parried the sharp strikes or overwhelmed the instructors with sheer numbers and that crimson-infused power, pressing the attack relentlessly.
Even the instructors were getting wounded, bleeding, and pushed back helplessly.
Kwaaaang!
In the midst of that bleak despair, a massive aura erupted like a exploding azure volcano.
"Don't you dare splash that filthy blood near where Master is!"
The girl in snow-white martial robes—Hwangbo Suyeon. The ferocious, colossal blue inner energy pouring from her body repelled the crimson-aura bandits in an instant.
"Taat!"
She kicked off the ground and spun in midair. And the miraculous theory I'd just roughly explained from the carriage—fluid dynamics—manifested perfectly through her fists.
Whiiiing!
As her fist thrust into the air and withdrew, a horrific whoosh accompanied a vortex sucking in the surrounding air.
"Ngh?"
The enemy staggered, off-balance from the sudden pull. Then her opposite fist shot out.
Thwack!
Perfect one-two.
Kwajik! Pakak!
Her small fists hammered mercilessly into enemies' solar plexuses and jaws, sending burly bandits crumpling like straw bundles, spraying blood and teeth.
Her brilliance outshone even the honorary pavilion master or the instructors—a mere young student. True class, right there.
Go, Suyeon! Smash their heads! Long live fluid dynamics!
I watched through the window crack, pumping my fist madly in silent cheers.
Just as the bandits' momentum faltered before her overwhelming might, and a sliver of hope pierced the crisis—
Thud.
"Huh?"
My supposedly safely parked private carriage at the rear lurched with an ominous vibration and started moving forward.
Clop-clop, clop-clop! The horse hooves picked up speed.
A chilling premonition crawled up my spine. I rushed to open the door and check the driver's seat—but before I could grab the handle, the door flew open violently from outside.
"Wha...?"
Someone leaped in, jamming the icy edge of a longsword against my fragile nape. The cold metal touch made every hair on my body stand on end, my mind blanking white.
The intruder pinning me with his sword wore a pitch-black mask wrapped tight around his face. He exuded a crimson killing intent dozens of times denser and more horrific than the bandits outside—an enigmatic master.
Click.
One clear, horrifying conclusion slammed into my head.
This wasn't a random bandit raid or robbery. The bloody chaos was a perfect, massive decoy to kill the instructors and distract Hwangbo Suyeon.
Their real target. The true kidnapping victim.
Was me, cowering in the carriage!
"Master!!"
From the battlefield's center, Hwangbo Suyeon—drenched in enemy blood, fighting fiercely—spotted me and unleashed a heart-wrenching scream.
Her clear eyes churned with shock and rage, on the verge of bloody tears.
"Stop right there! How dare you touch Master...!"
She whirled to charge like a beast toward my abducted carriage—but—
"Block her! Hold that wench back with your lives!"
At the masked man's order, dozens of surviving crimson-aura goons piled up like a massive meat shield before her.
Ignoring their own lives, they clung to her ferociously, determined to delay her even a second.
Thwack! Kwachang!
"Get out of my way! Move, you filthy vermin!"
Her fury exploded in fists that pulverized heads and chests mercilessly. Enemies fell in blood fountains like autumn leaves or straw—but it meant nothing.
One head crushed, two more trampled the corpse, zombie-like, grabbing her legs.
Even her overwhelming power couldn't break through the selfless human wave instantly.
Clop-clop! Clop-clop! Clop-clop!
Under the masked man's control—sword to my throat—the carriage whipped into a frenzy, fleeing the battlefield toward desolate mountain paths.
Through the shrinking window view, Hwangbo Suyeon—surrounded, weeping blood tears, screaming my name—faded from sight entirely.
My sole protector, my sturdy shield—severed completely.
"Haa... haa..."
I panted shakily, eyes darting between the blade on my neck and the masked man's cold gaze gripping the hilt.
Why? Why would this massive force orchestrate such an elaborate op to kidnap a third-rate literature hack like me—not Hwangbo Sega's precious daughter or the pavilion master?
As that terrifying question swirled—
Judging the pursuit threat gone, the masked man eased his longsword from my throat with a deep sigh. His beastly eyes gleamed through the mask, fixed on me.
Then his heavy voice dropped like a hammer on my pounding heart.
"Finally found you."
The masked man sneered chillingly, nailing me with the words.
"Yul-gong."
In that instant, I knew. The true murim behemoth—enraged by my words, scales reversed—had finally tracked the author, dragging me into this world's hell.