Darkest Under the Lamp
"Urgh…"
Geon-ho sat up on the sickbed, clutching his head. He knew he had lost—that much was clear—but he still could not make sense of what had happened at the very end.
Crack.
"Kh…"
A grinding pop from near his neck drew a wince. If he had not been shielded by his protective aura, he would have died on the spot.
A soft footstep approached.
"Are you all right, Hall Master?"
Wi Myeong-gang, Leader of the Patrol Corps, came to the bedside and held out a cup of cold tea. He had never seen his superior take a beating like that before.
"Ah. Thanks."
"Just who the hell was that man? Martial arts and magic…"
"…Hell if I know."
In truth, one name did come to mind. Someone who wielded martial arts and magic as freely as breathing. Only one such person had ever existed in this world—and that man was said to be long dead.
"What happened to him?"
"The Alliance Leader took him inside. Dan Woo-hyeon and Song Gyeol went with them."
"…Son of a bitch."
Geon-ho spat the curse and set the teacup down. The Alliance Leader, the Alliance Sword Corps—none of them sat well with him.
Strange, though. Only external injuries. No internal damage at all.
He checked his body and tilted his head. At the end of the fight, his opponent's energy had twisted everything inside him. And yet he was fine. When he circulated his internal energy, it flowed clean—not a trace of internal injury.
Then—
A clamor rose outside.
"?"
"?"
Geon-ho and Wi Myeong-gang both turned toward the door. Why the sudden uproar? If someone had broken in, the alarms would be screaming. If not that—had some accident happened?
The door slid open.
"What's going on?"
Wi Myeong-gang stepped into the corridor and caught a Martial Alliance member sprinting past.
"Ah—Corps Leader! Incredible news!"
"Spit it out."
"We've captured a Blood Cultist! And not just any—he was carrying a whole box full of Demon Pills!"
"What?!"
Geon-ho shot out of the doorway, eyes wide. Was that actually true? They had not found a single Demon Pill in ages—and now an entire box?
"I have to get over th—ah, damn this neck—"
He started forward, then grabbed at his throat.
"Hall Master, rest here in the Medicine Hall for now. I'll go."
"Yeah. Fine. This body of mine won't let me move yet. I'm counting on you."
Geon-ho clapped Wi Myeong-gang on the shoulder.
The lid creaked open, then thudded back against the table.
"Good gods. Those really are Demon Pills."
The Martial Alliance's Chief Administrator opened the crate, and it was packed solid with indigo-tinged Demon Pills. A thousand at the least. That many would have cost hundreds of ordinary lives.
"They were real."
"Never thought I'd see those again…"
"How many people did those Blood Cult bastards slaughter to make this many… those vermin…"
The Alliance officers clenched their fists until their knuckles went white, trembling with rage as they stared at the pills. They had gone unseen for a while, but every martial artist knew exactly what Demon Pills were.
"Chief Administrator. The Blood Cultist who had these—who was he?"
Wi Myeong-gang turned the pills over in his hands, his face dark with fury as he looked up at the Chief Administrator.
"A man named Heo Gyeom."
Moyong Hu, Chief Administrator of the Martial Alliance, gave them the name. Sichuan Tang Clan martial artists searching the Sichuan region had found a suspicious site where Blood Cult remnants were manufacturing Demon Pills. After a bloody fight, they had managed to take one of them alive.
"I hear the Tang Clan took heavy losses."
"Damn. The Sichuan Tang Clan did us a great service."
"They always do. Fighting the Blood Cult always means people die…"
One by one, the officers began to praise them. Only a single man had been captured—but that alone meant nothing. The Blood Cult always moved in packs. Capturing even one was already a hard-won victory.
Moyong Hu glanced over.
"Well? Are they genuine?"
"…Yes. They are."
Wol Ga-yeong, Leader of the Medicine Corps, nodded with a grim expression after examining the pills from every angle. The Hall Master had been tending patients, so she had come in his place—and no matter how she checked them, they were Demon Pills without question.
"Hah… Demon Pills back in the world again. The cults finally quiet down, and now another storm rolls in."
The Chief Administrator pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed. Thanks to the Alliance Leader's relentless efforts, most of the cults in the Central Plains had been driven out. For a time, there had been peace. Then the Blood Cult resurfaced and dragged chaos back with it.
"Store these in the underground vault. Post guards at the door. No one enters except the Alliance Leader."
"Yes, sir!"
"And this does not leave this room. Keep your subordinates' mouths shut."
"Yes, sir!"
Everyone present was senior staff. Rank-and-file soldiers would have heard the rumors by now—so the gag order had to be absolute.
In the deep dark of early morning, a figure slipped into the underground vault.
The crate lid creaked open.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Which idiot got caught with these?"
A masked stranger clicked his tongue as he looked down at the Demon Pills. He would have liked to see the face of whoever had been taken—but the Alliance Sword Corps was guarding that prisoner, and there was no way in.
"Heo Gyeom, was it? Who the hell is that?"
The Blood Cult had been recruiting so recklessly of late that a name alone told him nothing. Still—anyone carrying Demon Pills was Blood Cult. That much was certain.
"Ugh… burning something this precious. It turns my stomach."
The masked man let out a long, bitter sigh. He could not walk out with this many pills. Leaving them here was not an option either. They all had to burn.
"Tch. No choice."
In that instant—
A hidden weapon screamed through the air and clanged off the wall beside him.
"See? I told you he'd move tonight."
The one who had thrown it—Baek Do-ha—leaned against a pillar with his arms folded. Dan Woo-hyeon, Leader of the Heavenly Sword Unit, strode into the vault behind him.
"He really moved the same day we recovered the pills."
Dan Woo-hyeon fixed the masked man with a killing stare. He had expected at least a few days of waiting. Instead, the man had struck on the very first night. That kind of boldness…
"It's always darkest under the lamp. Nobody expects you to move on day one."
"…"
Only the man's eyes were visible as he looked from Do-ha to Dan Woo-hyeon in silence. Had they known he would come?
Dan Woo-hyeon drew his sword and leveled it.
"Surrender."
"Heh heh heh… well. You got me. Hey—you, the one leaning on the pillar. This was your plan, wasn't it?"
A bear of a man like Dan Woo-hyeon would never have cooked this up on his own.
"Correct."
"There's nowhere to run. Surrender."
"Hah. The main church is going to tear me a new one for this."
The man exhaled, then twisted something in his hand. Smoke began to fill the underground vault.
"You dare play games—!"
Dan Woo-hyeon swept his blade sideways, and a blast of sword-wind tore the smoke apart.
"Heh heh… stupid bastard. That was your mistake."
A cold smile curled across the masked man's face as he watched. Dan Woo-hyeon—who had been a heartbeat from charging—clutched his head and staggered.
"Wh…?"
What was this? Why was the world spinning?
"Dumb bear. Did you really think that was ordinary smoke? That's Smoke Mist Poison—a Blood Cult formula. Left alone, it's just smoke. The moment you circulate internal energy through it, it turns into an extreme toxin."
Of course, poison of this grade could not kill a master of the Hwayeong realm like Dan Woo-hyeon. But it was more than enough to bind his legs. And even that had only worked because he had inhaled it completely unguarded. Had he been ready, the Smoke Mist Poison would never have touched him.
"Looks like we have an eavesdropper."
The masked man flicked a dagger toward the vault door. Someone stumbled into view with a crack of splintering wood.
"Hiding like a rat and listening in—Geon-ho."
The figure who had been behind the door—Patrol Hall Master Geon-ho—stared at the masked man in shock.
"…That voice… it can't be…"
His pupils trembled. He had come running the moment the commotion started. What the hell was happening here? And that voice—he knew it far too well.
"Wi Myeong-gang… is that you?"
At Geon-ho's words, the masked man—Wi Myeong-gang—pulled the cloth from his face.
"You always did know me by voice alone."
"Why?! Why the hell did you turn to the Blood Cult?!"
Geon-ho roared at him. They had stood side by side for eight years. How could a man who was practically family be Blood Cult?
"Turned? You're badly mistaken. I was always Blood Cult."
"…What?"
"I didn't join them. I infiltrated the Martial Alliance from the start."
"…"
Wi Myeong-gang held out his hand.
"Geon-ho. Come with me. Do that, and you'll see a world nothing like the one you're living in now."
The Geon-ho he had watched for eight years was capable and useful. He had grown a little soft of late, but the core of the man had not changed.
"Let's keep our friendship going."
"…"
"The Martial Alliance is finished—no, the entire martial world is finished. Take my hand. It's the only way you survive. I'm telling you this as a friend."
Geon-ho's fists clenched. He bit down on his lower lip and walked forward.
"Hall Master… is that truly your choice?"
"…"
Geon-ho said nothing at Dan Woo-hyeon's reeling words. The man who usually spoke so casually was suddenly using formal speech.
"Only now you get polite?"
Geon-ho glanced back with a dry little smile. He knew. Dan Woo-hyeon wanted to speak respectfully—but he was not allowed to. He was Leader of the Heavenly Sword Unit: the blade that guarded the Alliance Leader alone. He was not to follow anyone else, not to honor anyone else. Showing deference to other officers would only disgrace the Alliance Leader and the Alliance Sword Corps. But right now, with no one else present, Dan Woo-hyeon spoke to him the way he once had.
"The Alliance Leader is the one who saved you when your family abandoned you and nearly sold you as a slave. Is this how you repay that debt?"
Long ago, Geon-ho's family had been desperately poor. His parents had tried to sell him to another continent. Namgung Je-u, tracking a slave trader at the time, had found him—and Geon-ho had entered the Martial Alliance that very day.
"One man disappearing won't change a damn thing."
"Hah… do you truly believe that? After you lost to Do-ha and came to—there was no internal injury, was there? Do you know why? Because the Alliance Leader fed you a Small Heaven Pill while you lay on that bed."
A pill so rare that even within the Martial Alliance, only the Alliance Leader himself was permitted to take it—and he had given it to Geon-ho.
"You gamble. You act however you please. But you're still one of his people. That's why he healed your internal injuries with a Small Heaven Pill."
Baek Do-ha had happened to visit the Martial Alliance, and Je-u had seized the chance—using his friend to shock Geon-ho back to his senses. To make him the sharp, upright man he used to be. That was why he had arranged the sparring match knowing Geon-ho would lose. But only that far. Because he cared for the man, he could not leave him broken with internal injuries.
"…"
Even so, Geon-ho kept walking.
He took the offered hand.
"Hahaha! Good. Good choice."
Wi Myeong-gang burst out laughing as Geon-ho's fingers closed around his. Yes. This was what it meant to seize an opportunity. The Alliance Leader's feelings? Who gave a damn. If the man had cared so much, he should have said it to Geon-ho's face years ago—not come crawling with it after the fact.
"First we get out of here clean, and then—"
In that instant—
Steel punched through flesh.
Geon-ho drove a dagger into Wi Myeong-gang's gut—the same dagger Wi Myeong-gang had thrown moments earlier.
"You've been yapping nonstop, you big dumb bear, Dan Woo-hyeon."
He had already known. While he rested in the Medicine Hall, the Medicine Hall Master had told him everything the Alliance Leader had done for him.