Chapter 162
Chapter 162
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 162
Chapter Title: Heading to the Zhao Kingdom
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One month later.
Yi Hwan began his journey toward the Zhao Kingdom. Cheol Mu-ok, Ju Tae, Go Mi, and Pa Pa accompanied him. And there was one more.
A female operative from Moon Pavilion, skilled in crafting human skin masks.
‘As expected, impersonating the Imperial Edict...’
The Empress had departed for the Zhao Kingdom two days ahead of Yi Hwan. Before leaving, she had used the Imperial Edict to seal off any possible moves by the Crown Prince's Palace from the root.
She had also postponed the military reorganization through council vote, turning Yi Hwan and the Crown Prince's Palace's plans into dead letters.
‘Truly no easy opponent.’
Yi Hwan could not help but acknowledge the Empress's ironclad thoroughness. The greatest strength he recognized in her was her utter lack of bondage to time.
She never rushed, so she made almost no mistakes. And with no mistakes, the Crown Prince's Palace and Yi Hwan had no choice but to exert their utmost in every matter.
‘Someday the board will flip. From that moment, I'll charge ahead so far they can never catch up. I'll make it happen.’
Whoosh!
The now much warmer weather had softened even the wind.
Yi Hwan surrendered his body to his warhorse's rhythm, proceeding westward at a pace neither swift nor sluggish. How much time passed?
Thud thud thud!
A single rider charged from behind like a gale. Go Mi glanced back, her eyes widening slightly.
"Come along!"
The one racing like the wind was none other than Hwa Ryeong. Yi Hwan watched her approach with a broad smile, his brow subtly furrowing.
Thud thud thud!
Moments later, Hwa Ryeong reined in her horse.
Neigh!
"Mind if I join?"
"Don't you have assignments?"
"No worries. Out of sight means the heart burns hotter, doesn't it?"
"So you've won him over?"
"Naturally. I've laid the groundwork perfectly—we can move the moment we return from the Zhao Kingdom. Don't fret."
Confidence brimmed in Hwa Ryeong's voice and expression. He had no idea how she'd done it, but her commitment was convincing enough to trust.
Go Mi spoke up.
"Put on the human skin mask first."
"Already got one ready."
Hwa Ryeong drew a mask from her bosom and fitted it over her face. Cheol Mu-ok and Ju Tae burst into laughter.
Yi Hwan let out a wry chuckle.
Freckles blanketed her face, paired with round eyes, making her look like a fresh-faced country girl new to the city. Her attire matched the look to perfection.
"You came fully prepared."
"Of course. This is standard. So, I'm in?"
"If I say turn back, will you?"
"Nope."
Heh.
"Promise no reckless moves, and you're allowed."
"I promise!"
Thus, Hwa Ryeong joined the group.
Go Mi, who would normally scowl openly, seemed unusually serene today.
Yi Hwan smiled faintly at her reaction.
‘Did they bond over their spat?’
* * *
Qin Kingdom's capital.
A procession emerged from the Imperial Palace, heading north.
Amid the carriage and dozens of riders trailed Namgung Jang-cheon and Danri Mok.
Both wore bright expressions.
Attending the Grand Martial Arts Assembly was pure delight for them. Having chased grim diplomatic duties until now, the joy doubled.
"We should do this more often."
"You know the fortune it costs to host one?"
"It delivers that much joy to folks. We're buzzing—think of the Zhao Kingdom's people. Our Qin Kingdom should host one someday."
They bantered from the rear. Then Danri Mok's eyes rounded as he spoke.
"Ah! That lord's coming too."
"The Fourth Imperial Prince of Yeon Kingdom?"
"You knew?"
"Heard days ago."
Namgung Jang-cheon knit his brow.
"Frankly, surprising. Zhao inviting him is odd enough, but him accepting? I'd flat-out refuse."
"Why?"
"The Empress would let him be?"
"She'd seize any chance to take him out. Going anyway? That's real guts. Agree?"
"Guts or poor judgment—time will tell."
"Definitely guts."
"So certain on what?"
"Gut feeling."
Heh.
Namgung Jang-cheon gazed ahead, Yi Hwan in mind.
‘I agree, guts. But this choice is too reckless.’
Whoosh.
* * *
Some hundred li east of Zhao Kingdom's capital lay Huaiyang City.
No grand metropolis, but famed for prime feng shui, drawing retired officials and tycoons. As dusk fell, a man entered its marketplace.
Mid-twenties? No striking beauty, but snow-pale skin and childlike large, clear eyes marked the youth.
He stepped into the marketplace's grandest inn.
It teemed with patrons—mostly weapon-bearing martial artists. Fighters and wanderers flocking nationwide for the imminent Grand Martial Arts Assembly, to compete or spectate. He claimed the dimmest corner seat.
"One bottle huaju, one plate pork slices, one bowl thin noodles. Liquor first."
"Yes, sir."
Orders done, he slaked thirst with water, then surveyed the room. Martial folk dominated, keeping the near-full house hushed. Such spots stayed quiet: strangers abound, raised voices risked brawls, caution ruled.
Quietest diners hailed mostly from Qin or Yeon Kingdoms.
"No incidents, thanks to the Imperial Edict."
Muttering obscurely, he peered out the window.
Streets swarmed.
Unusual vendors lined up, underscoring the assembly's scale.
The server set down liquor and departed.
He filled a cup, drained two swiftly.
Filling the third, entrants appeared.
Government bailiffs.
Bang!
Door slammed wide; chopsticks froze, eyes fixed on the entry.
"Brief search underway—stay seated!"
Bailiffs fanned out, checking folk. One neared the youth.
He preempted, slapping his token on the table.
Clack.
Bailiff glared at his face, checked the token, moved on. A voice queried.
"Some crime?"
"Murder in neighbor city yesterday. Aiding officials—remain."
"The Black Dragon Society massacre?"
"Affirmative."
Stir!
The inn murmured. News to many.
"Massacre—how many?"
"Nearly twenty, poisoned. Some guts and chests melted into gaping holes."
"Ghastly."
"Silence!"
Hush fell at the bailiff's bark. Amid checks, the youth drained cups impassively.
Two more down.
Crash!
Second-floor window shattered; a figure leaped to street. Bailiffs plummeted after.
"Pursue!"
"Seize him!"
Uproar pulled crowds to windows.
"The perp?"
"Fleeing? Likely. Mass killer in one inn."
"Ugh..."
Ground-floor bailiffs bolted out. The youth smiled vaguely.
Food arrived; he dined, exiting an hourish later.
Destination: the capital, assembly site.
"Long time back, some oddball's flipping the world his way."
Muttering cryptic, he ambled the market.
Hundred zhang on.
Eyes flashed. Ahead, bailiffs hauled a man—the inn jumper. Scuffle evident?
Bailiffs and captive blood-drenched.
"Not me, you fucks!"
"Shut it! Innocents don't flee!"
"You glared suspect—had to bolt! Believe denials then? Bullshit!"
Jang Han cursed fiercely en route.
Passing the youth, gazes locked—curses erupted.
"Staring, fucker!"
Youth mimed hands to shoulders, sly grin. Jang Han spat; spittle grazed his cheek.
He eyed Jang Han's bellowing retreat, smirking.
"No guilt needed."
* * *
Black Dragon Society.
Renowned near Huaiyang, its air crackled, primed to erupt.
Leader Jeon Yang-hwa's face burned crimson.
"Still no trace?!"
"Bailiffs aiding—combing everywhere. Capture imminent!"
"Money no object—more men, scour every nook!"
"Yes, Leader!"
Jeon chugged bottle-straight.
Gulp gulp!
Bang!
"Snag that bastard—rip him apart! Grr!"
Rage had cause.
Yesterday, nearby city drinking bash: subordinates slaughtered, nephew among.
Son-cherished nephew's death unhinged him.
Gulp gulp!
"More booze!"
One bottle gone, lifting second as night cloaked.
"Leader, chill's biting—inside."
"Fiercer liquor to my quarters!"
"..."
He entered chambers: vast, opulent as magnate's master, priceless sea-dong rugs galore.
Flung windows wide.
Rattle!
Eyes blazed killing light.
"Sis raised him how..."
Nephew's grin from days prior haunted relentlessly.
Whoosh!
Breeze kissed face; a limpid voice whispered in ear.
"Your darling nephew raped and slew an innocent girl. Thoughts?"
"!"
Voice from nowhere—he lunged for sword-hilt, bellowing who.
But?
‘That voice...’
Voiceless. Limbs frozen.
"Snooped around—you're vile too. Nephew aped you into demonhood."
Eyes bulged: window-void, youth hovered—the inn diner.
Verdant smoke curled fingertip, wafted leisurely his way.
"Next life, try virtue. Nah—hell eternal suits demons like you."
"!"
Smoke shrouded face.
Atrocity unfolded: flesh liquefied, bone bared—died mute.
Youth observed mute. Jeon slumped lifeless; he melted into night.