Chapter 167
Chapter 167
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 167
Chapter Title: Jo Yun's Objective
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Yang Chan, heading toward the capital, entered the market street of a nearby city to buy necessary items.
The first place he stopped was a cloth shop. Because he had carried the blood-soaked village chief, his clothes were a mess everywhere, crusted with dried blood.
A moment later, Yang Chan entered the cloth shop.
“Welcome.”
“Let me see some clothes.”
“Please wait just a moment, and I’ll bring them right out for you.”
There were customers ahead of him. A plain-looking middle-aged man and woman. Yang Chan glanced at them, then stared out at the market street.
Warriors were inspecting passersby. No doubt a search for him.
Just then, the conversation of people passing in front of the cloth shop piqued Yang Chan’s interest.
“Did you hear that rumor?”
“What rumor?”
“They say the recent murders were the work of people plotting treason. Word is they’re swarming into the capital to disrupt the Grand Martial Assembly. Ha! I’m worried something huge is about to go down.”
“If the rumors are true, it’s a real disaster. The world’s already a mess, and now treason? I’m afraid innocent folks will end up suffering again.”
Yang Chan was dumbfounded.
‘Plotting treason, huh...’
That was when the man and woman stepped outside. The shop owner finally approached Yang Chan.
“What kind of clothes are you looking for?”
“Something about the same size as what I’ve got on. White.”
“Yes, please wait just a moment.”
While the owner fetched the clothes, Yang Chan stepped out of the shop and quietly watched the backs of the man and woman as they entered the market street.
In that instant, a sharp glint flashed in his eyes.
‘Hiding their faces...’
He had noticed, as they passed by, that the skin tone of their faces and necks didn’t quite match. Yang Chan was certain they were wearing human skin masks.
At that moment, the middle-aged man turned to look back at him.
Their gazes clashed across the air. But the moment was fleeting, and the middle-aged pair soon vanished from Yang Chan’s sight.
Yang Chan turned to the owner and asked.
“They say traitors have shown up—is that true?”
“You must be from out of town.”
“That’s right.”
“Don’t get me started. Murders have been happening for days, stirring up all kinds of unrest, and now it turns out they’re the work of traitors? The whole area around the capital’s in an uproar.”
“Sounds like quite a few rebels.”
“I heard hundreds are flooding into the capital.”
Yang Chan was dumbfounded all over again.
‘Who the hell spread this rumor, and why?’
No one would let a rumor like that take off unless they’d deliberately blown the incidents out of proportion.
Yang Chan suspected Jo Yun.
Turning simple murders into treason wasn’t something just anyone could pull off. The suspicion hardened into certainty.
‘Go ahead—do whatever you like.’
Coldness settled into his eyes just as the owner’s voice rang out.
“Want to try it on?”
Yang Chan shook off his reverie and stepped back inside.
* * *
Yi Hwan watched Yang Chan enter the cloth shop from beyond the crowd.
‘This feeling... it’s a first.’
The moment he first spotted Yang Chan stepping inside, an indescribable, eerie sensation washed over him.
“What’s wrong?”
“What do you make of that guy, Pa Pa?”
“Didn’t notice anything unusual. Someone you know?”
“No, not that...”
Yi Hwan turned away soon enough.
The feeling was strange, sure—but that didn’t mean he could just march up and ask.
“Pa Pa.”
“Yes?”
“Keep your nape covered. Face and neck don’t match—could draw suspicion right away.”
“Got it.”
Pa Pa quickly adjusted her collar.
The two set off toward the capital. They left the market street and reached the official road, where the crowds were just as thick. People from across the country, drawn to spectate the Grand Martial Assembly. Martial artists were plentiful, of course, along with ronin types exuding their distinctive air here and there.
Pa Pa murmured softly.
“Did you catch what those folks said passing the cloth shop?”
“You mean the traitors?”
“Yes. If the rumors hold water, the Grand Martial Assembly won’t end quietly.”
“Could be nothing but rumors.”
“Pardon?”
“Poisonings suddenly morph into traitor handiwork. If it were real, those who chased us all the way to the gorge wouldn’t have slunk off.”
“So you think someone framed the incidents as tied to treason?”
“Maybe, maybe not. But if it was deliberate escalation for some goal, then the Southwest King’s using this mess to get something out of it.”
Pa Pa’s expression shifted sharply.
She had realized something.
“Aim to wipe out factions loyal to Your Highness?”
“That’s what I’d do if I were the Southwest King.”
“...”
“Or not—so we watch for now.”
It was then.
“Great Prince—look ahead.”
Pa Pa pointed to one spot. Yi Hwan turned his gaze that way.
Far up ahead, two lavish six-horse carriages and hundreds of escort troops advanced under fluttering, grand banners.
‘Made good time.’
The Empress’s procession.
They had left after her but traveled light, so Yi Hwan figured they’d gained days. Apparently not. He scanned her escorts.
Couldn’t make out faces from behind, but those near the carriages had an aura that was anything but ordinary.
‘Got to hand it to her for nerve. Enemy territory or not—even with some deal cut with the Southwest King—it’s bold to bring just that many guards.’
Yi Hwan turned to Pa Pa.
“Let’s move.”
“Yes.”
Yi Hwan kept his distance.
Disguised or not, no point getting closer.
How much farther had they gone?
“Aaak!”
“Uwaaak!”
Screams exploded from up ahead.
Yi Hwan, briefly lost in thought, looked toward the noise.
Masked figures burst from the forest on the road’s right side, attacking people.
He could see the Empress’s escorts swiftly forming a defensive line.
‘What the hell is this?’
Even as the question formed, the masked attackers charged straight for the Empress’s carriage. At the same time, a loud *peng* echoed from mid-air, blanketing everything in thick blood-red smoke.
“Uwaak!”
“Aaaak!”
Those engulfed in the crimson mist collapsed with agonized cries.
“Poison users, looks like.”
No sooner had Pa Pa spoken lowly than the Empress’s guards clashed with the masked men.
*Chae chae chang!*
“Kraaak!”
“Uwaaak!”
Yi Hwan shoved through the panicked, fleeing crowd to press forward a bit. But by the time he neared, the masked attackers were already subdued.
Yi Hwan eyed the Empress’s escorts.
A few clutched their throats, staggering; others lay sprawled on the road.
*Dududu!*
The Empress’s carriage bolted off. A ruthless scene followed: escorts abandoned their still-living comrades to chase after it.
“I’ll get intel from them.”
“No need.”
Yi Hwan caught Pa Pa’s shoulder as she moved to approach, shaking his head. He jerked his chin backward. Dozens of warriors raced in like the wind from the rear of the road.
Zhao Kingdom warriors.
Yi Hwan and Pa Pa slipped back quietly.
Yi Hwan smirked as he watched the Zhao warriors move to seal off the scene.
“Amusing.”
“Yes?”
“Feels like they knew this was coming and had it all timed.”
“You’re right—their timing’s suspiciously fast.”
Yi Hwan’s gaze hardened.
‘Jo Yun’s definitely up to something...’
* * *
Yang Chan was nearby the incident site as well. He’d hit the road late and quickened his pace at the screams—only to spot Zhao warriors charging from behind, so he pulled to the edge.
‘Red pollen ground in for dramatic effect. Looks brutal at a glance, but it’s actually weaker.’
He watched the blood-red smoke drift into the forest on the wind, his gaze steadying. Then a wry smile tugged at his lips.
Something had come to mind.
‘Poison hit on the Yeon Kingdom Empress? This is gonna blow up in their faces.’
The market street conversation sprang immediately to mind. No way this attack was unrelated.
Yang Chan resumed walking.
The Zhao warriors had the site locked down, but they weren’t blocking travelers.
As he passed, Yang Chan stole glances at the fallen through gaps in the guards. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, limiting his view—but he clearly made out one corpse’s face, blood streaming from eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.
“Keep your distance!”
A warrior barked savagely.
Yang Chan edged sideways, then looked ahead.
Dark clouds rolled in from the distance. Yang Chan’s heart darkened to match the sky.
‘A rotten world...’
* * *
Zhao Kingdom Imperial Palace.
Ministers assembled in the audience hall, waiting for someone. The dragon throne sat empty.
Waiting for the Emperor?
No—they awaited Jo Yun.
One minister asked.
“Anyone know what this is about?”
All shook their heads as Jo Yun entered the hall. The ministers rose as one and bowed toward him.
Jo Yun took a seat on a chair set apart beside the throne. Actual ruler or not, he hadn’t formally ascended—so claiming the throne was out of the question.
One minister asked.
“Why have you summoned us, Your Highness?”
Jo Yun spoke in a grave tone.
“A short while ago, the Yeon Kingdom Empress came under attack by ruffians.”
“Yes?”
“Impossible!”
The words stunned them all.
“Fortunately, the Empress is unharmed, but several of her escort warriors fell to the ruffians’ poison. Thus, I view this as the traitors’ doing—and intend to declare a state of emergency.”
“The emergency edict is for wartime only. With the Grand Martial Assembly looming, issuing it now risks uncontrollable chaos. Please tread carefully, Your Highness.”
Jo Yun’s eyes turned icy at the minister’s words.
“With traitors swarming the capital, you claim this is less dire than war?”
His gaze had shifted; so had his tone.
“Interpretation may vary, but the edict must never be issued lightly. Even past emperors held back in graver crises. I implore you—reconsider.”
The minister stood firm. A pillar of Crown Prince Jo Gwang’s faction, he was renowned for unyielding integrity. He and Jo Yun had clashed often.
Another minister stepped forward.
“Treasonous unrest outweighs war—let Your Highness have his way! We obey!”
“We obey!”
Jo Yun’s allies chorused. Jo Yun fixed his gaze on the dissenter and continued.
“Propose an alternative to the edict, if you have one. I’ll hear it and decide.”
“...”
“No alternative, just opposition?”
“Grant us one day. We’ll find the optimal path. Should the edict still seem best, we’ll follow Your Highness then.”
“Very well. So be it.”
Moments later, Jo Yun exited the hall. A close aide followed, asking.
“You could’ve just announced it—why grant a day?”
“First, they need to grasp their own impotence. A taste of mortal peril drives the point home nicely.”
The aide’s face changed as he grasped the implication.
“How many?”
“Spare the high ranks. Two mid-level nonessentials will do. Move out now.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”