After the Great Escape
The foul stench of blood and rot that had permeated the underground prison shook the air as the cold iron bars shattered into shards of blue ice, crumbling to the floor in a heap.
"This way, Author-nim."
My benefactor—no, the mad survivor who'd trusted a scrap of text I'd written and leaped off a real cliff to claim her fortune—Seol Muyeong. The biting cold pouring from the eternal snow sword Seola in her hand froze the dank prison air white.
"Uh, uh... yeah."
I barely moved my trembling legs, pressing close to her slender but sturdy back. My body, shredded after a week of horrific torture, felt like it would collapse any second, but raw survival instinct kept me upright.
As she promised, Seol Muyeong's chill was overwhelming. The torturers and warriors blocking the dark underground passage froze solid into bloody shards with every swing of her blade.
Finally, the moldy stink cleared, and the cold night air outside slapped my lungs.
"Haa... I'm alive!"
The moment my feet hit the Moyong Family's rear garden under the hazy moonlight, I exhaled in profound relief. But that shallow comfort shattered in less than a second.
Shwaaaak!
Hundreds of torches ignited in the darkness, flooding the vast Moyong Family garden with daylight brightness.
"What the hell..."
Despair leaked from my lips in a ragged breath. At least three hundred elite warriors with murderous auras had us surrounded airtight—not even an ant could slip through.
And then, like the Red Sea before Moses, that nightmare encirclement parted. A man strode out with leisurely steps.
Clad in ornate silk robes, he appeared a dignified middle-aged scholar, elegant as a crane. But beneath lurked a fiend who'd massacred rumor factions with his horrific demonic arts. The head of one of the Five Great Families, the prestigious Liaodong powerhouse: Moyong Cheol.
A vile smirk twisted his lips, as if human lives were worth less than bugs.
"So the rat slipped from the prison... and it's you, huh."
Moyong Cheol's sharp eyes pierced toward Seol Muyeong, who stood before me. They gleamed with intrigue.
"I thought your face looked familiar. The bloodied wench I failed to finish off at the Snow Shadow Pavilion that night."
At his leisurely mockery, the cold radiating from Seol Muyeong turned savagely feral.
"Moyong Cheol... you demonic bastard! Avenger of my clan!"
Seol Muyeong screamed, blood tears streaming, her voice thick with hatred. Sword qi sharp enough to flay flesh whipped from Seola like a storm.
"Hahaha! Avenger of your clan!"
Moyong Cheol burst into uproarious laughter, as if delighted. Then his flashing eyes turned to me with venomous glare.
"Now it all fits perfectly!"
He pointed at me triumphantly.
"I wondered how a mere scribbling ink-slinger pierced my secret demonic cultivation so accurately!"
No, I really didn't know!
"You dug into my past through this survivor bitch and exposed it to the world in that disgusting 'novel' to blackmail me!"
Just how far does this lunatic's imagination stretch? I was on the verge of vomiting blood from injustice.
These murim idiots' wild theories have no bottom.
I inwardly sobbed, jumping in protest or not—Moyong Cheol raised his hand, exuding perfect killing intent.
"Rip those two rats apart! Separate bone from flesh and hang them in the market square!"
At the patriarch's merciless command, three hundred Moyong warriors roared like beasts and charged.
Blue blades and spear tips rained from all sides.
"Author-nim, don't move from that spot!"
Seol Muyeong's icy voice rang out as she kicked off the ground.
Clang!Kwaaaang!
Each swing of her sword unleashed horrific whooshes and white ice storms.
It was astonishing. Truly awe-inspiring power. If not for the sword in her hand, you'd swear she was a fantasy ice mage.
Enemy blood sprayed mid-air froze into red ice flowers, shattering on the ground before it hit. She danced through dozens of elites, overwhelming the Moyong forces single-handedly with terrifying might.
"Kaaak!"
"Th-this wench's sword qi...!"
Frozen warriors screamed and collapsed helplessly.
Hiding behind her, I nearly cheered at the dominance.
At this rate, we can break through! Templates rule murim too?
But this murim's reality wasn't the munchkin plots of my webnovels. No matter her cliff fortune and absolute ice arts, she was alone.
Endless waves of three hundred experts. The vicious, sticky quagmire of wheel warfare began gnawing her stamina.
"Haa... haa..."
Seol Muyeong's shoulders heaved visibly. The chill from her blade tip weakened, growing murky.
Her breaths grew ragged, her blocks slowed dramatically.
"Kuhuhu... No matter the fortune, a blood clot's just a blood clot."
Reading her limit perfectly, Moyong Cheol grinned rottenly and stepped forward, parting the crowd. Without even drawing his sword, he thrust a palm laced with blue force energy at the weary Seol Muyeong.
Kwang!Kaang!
"Kuhk!"
Drained of inner energy and stamina, Seol Muyeong barely parried his heavy strikes, pushed back relentlessly. A trickle of red blood dripped from her lips.
"Pathetic. Your father's waiting in hell. Go join him!"
Moyong Cheol smirked like a demon, certain of victory, as he aimed a fatal heart strike.
In that inescapable moment, death's palm about to crush Seol Muyeong's chest—
Kwaaaaang!
A colossal cannonball seemed to crash with thunder, slamming the Moyong rear garden. Explosive dirt blasted everywhere, shattering Moyong Cheol's vicious blow mid-air.
"Who dares!"
Moyong Cheol roared in fury. Through the settling dust stood a petite figure blocking Seol Muyeong.
Snow-white skin. Elegant white martial robes, now stained with dirt and enemy blood. That resolute back.
"Suyeon!"
Joy and relief exploded from my lips in a scream.
Hwangbo Suyeon. My first disciple, the obsessive genius who mistook me for a hidden master and provided unyielding protection, had tracked me here at last!
From her small fists poured massive blue energy from the 'fluid dynamics' centrifugal force I'd blabbed about, raging ferociously.
"You... you're!"
Moyong Cheol, repelled, gaped at her face like he'd seen a ghost.
"The brat who wailed 'master' on that mountain path!"
Yes. The masked fiend who'd kidnapped me from the carriage was this hypocrite, Moyong Family patriarch Moyong Cheol.
"How the hell did you track me here?!"
At his flustered shout, Hwangbo Suyeon scoffed coldly.
"The trajectory of that paedo that blocked my final strike."
Her clear eyes flashed sharply.
"The elegant sword form instinctively unleashed. It was unmistakably the Moyong Family's secret art, the Crestwave Style opener."
Insane. She'd read the enemy's true sword school from a desperate flailing swing in that split second? This genius girl's talent was terrifying.
At her flawless deduction, Moyong Cheol's face flushed rage-red.
"Insolent bitch... Should've finished you on that mountain path!"
He gnashed his teeth, building killing intent, about to hurl curses at a mere young cadet despite his prestigious patriarch facade.
"You crazy bastard, who was gonna kill who?"
A roar that could crumble the Moyong walls—or split heaven and earth—shattered the night air.
The overwhelming lion's roar made the encircling Moyong warriors clutch their ears in agony, collapsing.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Heavy footsteps like a mountain marching. From the darkness emerged a giant with a hulking frame, tiger beard, and explosive ferocious aura.
Patriarch of one of the Five Great Families, the Hwangbo Family. Father of Hwangbo Suyeon, the world's top 'daughter-con' and absolute murim powerhouse: Hwangbo Daeryeok.
He grinned at his daughter, then twisted it into a hellish demon's scowl at Moyong Cheol.
"My precious gem of a daughter suddenly flipped out, urgently begging Daddy's help, so I rushed over."
Golden aura poured from Hwangbo Daeryeok, crushing the Moyong garden flat.
"Never thought I'd find the bastard threatening my flawless girl."
Cracking his massive knuckles, he jabbed a finger at Moyong Cheol with a savage grimace.
"Moyong Cheol, you dog bastard."
Profanity from a prestigious patriarch—pure catharsis. I inwardly danced in glee.
"Quit bullying kids out of your league and fight me fair and square."
Hwangbo Daeryeok snorted derisively, cranking the taunt to max.
"p "Show off that fancy swordplay you used to woo my Suyeon—in front of me!"
Perfect dismissal. Already fraying from demonic arts, Moyong Cheol's patience snapped at being treated like a clown.
"Hwangbo Daeryeok! You dare!"
Moyong Cheol bellowed beastly, charging sword drawn.
"Come on, you punk!"
Hwangbo Daeryeok laughed heartily, blue force surging from his massive fist as he leaped forward.
Kwaaaaaang!!!
The frontal clash of two ruling patriarchs. A clash to crumble mountains and split skies—befitting the Five Great Families' heads.
As the titans battled and Moyong minions lost heart, milling in panic, Hwangbo Suyeon ignored it all, flitting to my side like a winged bird.
"Master...!"
Her large, clear eyes brimmed with tears. Scanning me up and down, her gaze hit the brutal torture scars and gashes; her lips quivered.
"Th-these... beastly scum... dared to do this to Master's sacred body..."
On the verge of blood tears, she gripped the hem of her priceless white martial robe without hesitation.
Riiip!
As she tore a strip to tenderly bind my bleeding arm—
Snap.
A cold hand gripped her wrist, halting her.
"......?"
Hwangbo Suyeon turned, puzzled. It was Seol Muyeong, who'd shared life and death with me from the prison, beneficiary of my written fortune.
Her eyes were as icy and sharp as when facing Moyong Cheol.
"Who are you to stop me?"
Hwangbo Suyeon demanded in a frosty voice, trying to shake free. But Seol Muyeong gripped tighter, locking in a tense standoff.
"And who are you?"
Their eyes clashed in mid-air.
Crackle! Bzzt!
Invisible sparks and lethal lightning seemed to erupt where their gazes met.
One, the genius girl blindly obsessed with me as a legendary hidden master.
The other, the ice-arts vengeful ghost devoting her life to me as her fortune's architect and lifelong benefactor.
The two fanatics' breathless silent exchange.
Wait, hold up, girls? I'm dizzy from blood loss... Can't we staunch it first, then fight?
In the blood-soaked Moyong rear garden, this fiery staredown between the two madwomen terrified me more than the patriarchs' earth-shaking booms.
Where the hell was my ragged, spectacular murim survival saga headed?