Chapter 41
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Reverse Tracking
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Murim Alliance.
The coalition of the righteous factions of the martial world boasted a history so pure it could be said to embody the martial world itself.
Ever since its formation, all major and minor events in the righteous martial world had been handled through the Murim Alliance. As a single organization, it vied for supremacy alongside the Iron Blood Fortress, the alliance of unorthodox sects.
With the Nine Great Sects and One Gang and the Six Great Clans at its core, talents from all walks of life had pledged themselves to the Alliance.
Even as countless brilliant martial artists lost their place in the world around the time of the Demonic Cult War, both those who left and those who remained kept the central pillar of the righteous martial world unshaken.
"Huff... huff...!"
It was thanks to the dedication and hard work of the young experts filling those gaps.
Click.
And one couldn't overlook the many wanderers supporting those young experts.
'Damn it all!'
Ho Gwang from Jiangsu Province.
The middle-aged man who had slipped gasped ragged breaths.
A member of the Murim Alliance's intelligence unit, the Secret Response Squad, he was fighting for his life at every moment.
Though his personal martial arts lagged behind, his spirit of justice matched any warrior.
They operated in the shadows, counterparts to the rising stars like light to dark, dying unnoticed like rats or birds.
It was common for no one to acknowledge them.
Like his two other companions, Ho Gwang, dying in vain was just part of daily life. He was always prepared for it mentally.
Though he wandered through the four directions and could have reasonably given up, his legs moved by a sense of duty that others might find tiresome.
Thud.
'Jueun Merchant House...'
Having heard in Mingin County, he instinctively headed to one estate.
It was one of the top places even in Qingzhou Prefecture, swarming with warriors from across the land.
The Nine Great Sects and One Gang, shunning the secular world, would have modest bases of their own, but when it came to influence, aside from the two longstanding powers in Shandong, nothing else was worth considering.
The Hwang Bo Clan dominated Neizhou and Dengzhou Prefectures.
Though their influence couldn't be fully erased even in Qingzhou, they were biased toward the east, keeping a distance.
"Cough! Cough!"
Above all, the Seo Mun Clan had Vermilion Bird Unit Leader Ha Eun-ye.
Dragging his uncooperative limbs, Ho Gwang finally reached the Jueun Merchant House.
The Secret Response Squad had long been one of the four units assisting the major divisions.
Especially active in Shandong and southern Zhili, gathering intelligence.
Just as spies often met grim fates, his appearance was indescribably wretched.
His left arm hung in tatters, caked with hardened blood clots.
His right leg's shinbone protruded through the flesh, and the crushed foot below was beyond any divine healer's aid. His five viscera and six organs were shattered and displaced.
His bluish face showed he'd been hit by poison arts; like a candle in the wind, there was no doubt about the assassins' skill.
Flutter!
Ho Gwang squeezed out his last energy to leap over the towering wall.
'Ugh.'
His form wasn't the best, and rolling on the ground, he couldn't relax.
The relentless assassins didn't know the word quit.
He had to deliver the news before the shadows pursuing him caught up, even a moment sooner.
"Cough!"
Fortunately, signs of people were near.
Two figures appeared in his blurry vision: a man and a woman.
"H-hel...p..."
Before his desperate plea could extend, a merciless shadow strike flew in.
Whoosh!
The culprits who left him like this.
His body reacted before his mind. Sensing death, he couldn't hold back his lament.
No sound came out, though.
He had to relay the Demonic Cultist's news as fast as possible...
His eyes brimmed with resentment.
In his wide-open gaze unfolded an unbelievable scene.
"Assassins?"
Ignoring the puzzled tone, the young man swung his sword.
Clang!
The covert strike, which even peak experts couldn't ignore, fizzled into nothing.
An unexpected counter.
Swoosh!
Seo Mun-ha easily deflected the follow-up flying needles and daggers.
For him, who had faced the Tang Poison Needle King of the Ten Seats of Sacred Heaven, it was nothing.
Eyes gleaming with interest shone in the darkness.
Three assassins atop the wall.
One scattered caltrops after a glance, while another charged at Seo Mun-ha.
A single assassin serving as a feint and bait.
The target was always Ho Gwang, and the two following the caltrops gripped their weapons firmly, as if well-practiced.
Shhh.
It was right after that the masks of the usually stoic assassins twisted in shock.
A chilling sword gale whipped up.
The enveloping aura made the caltrops crumble powerlessly with menace.
Baek Ri-seol, now holding a sword hilt, calmly met the assassin with steady eyes.
Crack! Clang!
The dagger sliding down the white blade suddenly soared skyward.
"White Phoenix?"
Arm extended, she reversed offense to defense in one move, the unparalleled prodigy who pierced harsh conditions pressuring the two assassins in succession.
"...?"
She tried to.
The assassins who'd clashed once spun away hastily.
As if one exchange sufficed to gauge her skill, they shed no attachments, fleeing the estate without signal.
"What will you do?"
Baek Ri-seol asked about their clean judgment.
"Chase them, of course."
Seo Mun-ha tested the ground twice before stomping.
"Take care of that man, Lady Baek Ri."
Ho Gwang, his energy spent, wasn't just unconscious—he was critical.
"Be careful..."
Someone had to explain the situation, so Baek Ri-seol accepted staying behind as natural.
'Why me?'
Seo Mun-ha realized it only after he vanished.
She'd offered her wrist before, but by training and real combat experience—or overall skill— she was better suited for pursuit.
Shake, shake.
This unfamiliar day was full of inexplicable things.
For Baek Ri-seol, every one of them.
"Sigh."
It was clear they all stemmed from one person.
Standing at the fork, I quietly extended my qi sense.
'They've gone far already.'
Thorough didn't even begin to describe it.
Three first-rate assassins.
Their cunning wasn't limited to quick judgment and retreat; cleanup was spotless.
Traces split into three.
The faint remnants pointed in three different directions.
For them, the rain-soaked ground must have been unfortunate.
No matter how accustomed to tracking others...
'It wouldn't have been this easy.'
Same attire, similar builds.
Among masked assassins, distinguishing heads wasn't hard.
I crossed Mingin County and climbed the ridge.
Cavalry's weakness was lightness skill, nearly unnecessary here—but the same for assassins.
Those who lurked in shadows rarely showed faces or ran long distances.
Just distance and lightness skill made picking the leader easy.
"..."
The nameless assassin scanned warily without slacking.
Judging no pursuit, he marked a code in the shadows.
Scratch. Scratch.
I watched silently, holding my breath.
Not expert in lightness or stealth, but drawing on old memories from the start was thanks to the Plum Sword Gang Leader.
"Who's there?!"
The man flashed killing intent at the brush.
Rustle.
Two emerged cautiously—they'd set a rendezvous over one mountain away.
'What now.'
Tailing further was fine, but dawn would complicate things.
Dry ground would make tracks harder.
'If only I knew their affiliation.'
Hoping they'd lead meekly to base or client was shameless.
The gold medallion the elder flashed before fainting marked Murim Alliance affiliation, narrowing suspects.
Groups bold enough to bare teeth at the Alliance: three.
Of the Three Great Assassination Gates, considering Shandong: two remained.
Black Kill Gang and Broken Sword Sect.
"Rest a quarter-hour, then move."
Timing pinned the client's identity.
Eavesdropping their bland, cautious talk while weighing options, dawn broke.
"Wh-who's there...?"
A middle-aged man parted brush, stumbling back and falling.
"Eek?!"
By his look, an early-rising herb gatherer showing diligence.
'Tch.'
Of all the unlucky timing.
'Tch.'
Not just me who thought so.
"Kill him."
The two assassins kicked off, swinging short blades.
"Sp-spare me!"
As he squeezed eyes shut, I flung a pebble ahead.
"More than one rat after all."
The assassin veered sharply.
"You—Ghost Flash?"
The lounging leader with arms crossed furrowed brows.
Slash.
I beheaded the two and stepped from thickets.
"Wh-what?!"
The assassins clutched throats, collapsing a beat late.
Thud.
"...Swift Sword. As the rumors say."
His eyes didn't flicker at losing underlings.
The ambushed assassins were mere average fighters below him, first-rate at best—but the last was different.
'Peak realm. Second layer, shadow style.'
A master who could assassinate even third-layer experts given conditions.
"How'd you find us?"
"Sprinkled Thousand-Mile Tracking Scent."
"Liar."
Obviously useless fib.
"So, gonna run for it?"
"No, retreat's tough."
The man coldly analyzed.
"Didn't expect Ghost Flash skilled in tracking too."
His sharp eyes flashed as he unleashed true power, thrusting deep with both-hand sword.
'Even Origin Qi?'
Facing killing intent, I gripped left-hand sword.
And twisted torso, offering right arm.
"What?!"
Sizzle.
The blade piercing my robe vanished suddenly; the assassin's shock seemed from spotting the hidden ink spirit blade.
Clang!
I crushed the blade with ink spirit-armed right arm.
Splurt!
And severed both his wrists gathering power at one point.
Drip.
Over blood soaking ground rolled the hands, detached from sword hilt.
No scream.
Just glaring disbelief; stiffening, he died with blood trickling from mouth.
"Poison pill..."
No hesitation in suicide—truly ruthless.
"U-ughhh."
"You alright?"
The late-panicking herb gatherer flinched crawling, slowly rising.
"Th-thank you... for sparing this lowly one...?"
Ending high as I yanked his basket, grabbing the slight middle-aged man's throat.
"Gahk!"
"Faking herb gatherer? Fill the damn basket at least."
"Morning... path to life... unjust..."
Mouth agape squeezing words.
"Explain this?"
I pulled a poison pill like the previous from inside.
"Cough! Cough!"
Breath freed, his face turned fierce.
"...H-how?"
"Mountains are treacherous."
Not easy for real gatherers; one who could enter wouldn't have empty basket—contradiction.
"Too perfect coincidence."
Vivid bait for luring people.
"Enough to suspect."
"More like, I suspect others first. Can't help this rotten personality."
"Ghost Flash of rumor... such a joker."
"Die once, you'll get it."
Our hollow-laugh chat seemed it'd drag long.