Sa-an Gwi-gun
Sa-an Gwi-gun was the leader of a colossal alliance within the black path.
Countless branches, sects, and families had gathered solely beneath his name, forming a single monolithic force.
Naturally, no matter how powerful Sa-an Gwi-gun might be, he could not handle every matter through sheer fiat.
So Sa-an Gwi-gun had no choice but to watch and wait.
‘Something is definitely happening.’
The interior of the Black Pavilion was far more chaotic than Woo-jin had imagined.
Those who had once been kept in check beneath his influence were now fracturing into factions.
Originally, dozens of such factions would rise and vanish in a single day.
This time, however, was different.
Forces were now openly raising the banner of rebellion against him.
And then there was the decisive incident—the attempt to assassinate the Ju family’s matriarch.
Paman-su was a figure that even the Black Pavilion could not casually accept.
Yet Sa-an Gwi-gun could not personally oversee every appointment within the organization. Paman-su had been a member of the Black Pavilion, and he had ultimately launched an assault on the Ju family’s matriarch.
Sa-an Gwi-gun had chosen to view the event as an opportunity.
If the Ju family’s Sword Saint came in person, he was more than willing to accommodate the man’s demands—so long as the Ju family displayed proper fury.
If the Sword Saint and the Blood Saint began to pressure the Black Pavilion, he could use that very pretext to drag the entire organization back under his control, root out the internal traitor, and quietly purge them.
It would be the cleanest, most concise way to settle everything without unnecessary noise.
But the Ju family had not sent the Sword Saint.
Nor had they sent the Blood Saint.
Instead, they had sent a mere boy named Ju Woo-jin.
And the moment Sa-an Gwi-gun exchanged a few words with him, he understood.
‘The future of the Ju family is the Sword Dragon? What a joke.’
The potential contained in the small boy before him far surpassed that of Ju Seung-hyeok, the one they called the Sword Dragon.
‘Perhaps… the Ju family…’
might one day claim the title of the greatest clan under heaven.
He had seen it—in the boy named Ju Woo-jin, he had glimpsed the same cold, majestic presence that the Sword Saint had radiated in his youth, the one that had once overwhelmed him completely.
“That’s precisely why I can’t help but favor the Ju family.”
The Ju family was openly listed among the prestigious houses of the white path.
Yet that was only a relative distinction. From Sa-an Gwi-gun’s perspective, the Ju family was the fiercest, most terrifying clan occupying the gray space between the righteous and demonic paths.
“Go on, then. Rampage to your heart’s content. Consider it my way of making the Ju family owe me a debt.”
Sa-an Gwi-gun stood atop the roof of the massive black hall, taking in the entire scene below with a single glance.
Even though he revealed himself openly, no one could see him.
That was the true power of Sa-an Gwi-gun, the ruler of this pitch-black darkness.
Pabat!
The carriage picked up speed.
I pushed myself even faster.
Thump! Thump!
My heart hammered wildly.
The demonic energy surged and roiled as though it had encountered a long-lost friend.
It’s certain.
The sensation the demonic energy conveyed had never once been wrong.
This madly raging instinct was screaming at me to head straight for whatever lay inside that carriage.
“What are your orders? Should I cut the carriage apart?”
Muyoung shouted, hand already closed around his sword hilt.
I shook my head lightly.
It wasn’t time yet.
Learning where he was headed and locating his base took priority.
Muyoung stood ready to unleash a sword strike the instant I gave the word.
I considered it briefly, then shook my head again.
“Wait.”
We needed to map out their route first.
After racing onward for a long while, the carriage finally came to a stop before a secluded warehouse.
A warehouse with no guards in sight.
The solitary buildings looked eerily desolate.
“……?”
Concealing ourselves alongside Muyoung, I watched the carriage closely.
Yet even as time passed, the carriage remained motionless. No one emerged.
It simply sat there in front of the warehouse.
“Young master? Something feels wrong.”
Muyoung, too, seemed uneasy; he kept scanning the surroundings.
There was no one around the warehouse.
Only the carriage.
We couldn’t afford to waste any more time.
“Let’s check it.”
I brought Muyoung with me and approached the carriage.
The closer we drew, the more unnatural the sensation became. My body gave an involuntary shudder.
No presence at all.
The prickling feeling that had crawled across my skin while the carriage was moving had completely vanished.
Clatter!
When I opened the door, it was exactly as I feared.
The carriage was empty.
“What the hell…”
“……”
Muyoung stood there with a stunned expression, stomping his feet in confusion.
I reached out and touched the seat inside.
No residual warmth.
It meant no one had been riding in this carriage from the very beginning.
My gaze shifted to the coachman’s seat.
There was no driver, so the horses could not possibly have moved on their own.
Yet the hoofprints maintained perfectly even spacing all the way here.
Ha.
I realized the situation had gone south the instant I saw it.
“Muyoung!”
The moment the word left my mouth, a faint tak sound came from the carriage—like something being released.
It was tiny, but the silence around us made it unmistakable.
And then—
Swish!
Hidden weapons exploded through the carriage walls.
“Young master!”
Muyoung drew his sword in a flash, wrapped one arm around me, and swung, deflecting every incoming projectile.
“Ugh!”
Because he had unleashed the strike without proper stance or preparation, Muyoung still took a wound across one arm.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. It’s only a scratch.”
It looked far worse than a scratch, but I could check later.
“An obvious trap.”
“You can say that again.”
The moment we rose to our feet, I felt pressure closing in from every direction.
That was when it happened.
“Huh?”
Muyoung staggered.
He clutched his head, barely steadying himself, then reached toward me.
“Y-Young master…?”
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“My vision… it’s spinning… Just… a moment…”
“……”
I rushed to his side at once.
Grasping his eyelids, I opened them to check his pupils.
They were already turning a violent red.
Soul-Destroying Illusion Art!
When? How?
I hadn’t sensed the slightest sign.
I quickly searched my robes and pulled out a detoxification pill—one of the spares I had asked the medicine master to prepare for emergencies.
I shoved it into Muyoung’s mouth, then half-dragged him close against the carriage.
Why blow up the carriage?
The question lasted only a moment before I heard footsteps.
Despite the energy I had sensed earlier, there was only a single set of footsteps.
“Ju Woo-jin. Ju Woo-jin. Hehehe.”
“……”
A familiar voice.
I stepped out from cover and turned to face him.
“As I thought. You already knew about me, didn’t you?”
It was Sa-an Gwi-gun.
I rapidly raised my energy.
I cannot be hit.
The Soul-Destroying Illusion Art could bind the mind with even the smallest opening.
It was a vile sorcery among sorceries, and one of the most troublesome arts even within the demonic path.
“Oh ho.”
Sa-an Gwi-gun’s eyebrows twitched.
The Soul-Destroying Illusion Art had failed.
At first he had assumed the boy simply possessed unusually strong mental fortitude.
But this was different. This was complete rejection at the source.
“I see. Now I understand.”
Sa-an Gwi-gun nodded.
He had read the currents of energy rising across my entire body.
“Demonic energy.”
His eyes flashed with dangerous light.
The snake-like gaze finally revealed itself.
Sa-an Gwi-gun.
I slowly walked toward him.
Before this man, I had to keep my mind razor-sharp.
Any gap, no matter how small, and he would gladly sink his fangs in and tear me apart.
“You knew I was chasing you?”
“I only thought you might. I simply cast out bait.”
“And I swallowed it whole. Like an idiot.”
I cursed myself.
I had moved far too hastily.
I should have been more suspicious.
“You’re sharper than I expected. Even within the Ju family… I never imagined you would follow me all the way to the Black Pavilion.”
Praise from an enemy never felt pleasant.
Especially not from Sa-an Gwi-gun, who toyed with minds like puppets.
“I will withdraw my hand from the Ju family. Instead, why don’t we join forces and crush the Black Pavilion? What do you say?”
Sa-an Gwi-gun extended his hand.
It was so pale it looked as though it had never seen sunlight—slender and delicate, almost like a woman’s.
“Why would I? I want to capture you.”
“Hehehe. You should consider this carefully. Destroying the Black Pavilion would benefit both you and your family, wouldn’t it? You’d be eliminating your greatest foe.”
“In exchange, you people would only grow stronger. You’d secure a bridgehead into the Central Plains. Am I wrong?”
“Puhahaha! What an amusing brat. You… just how much do you know about us?”
I let out a small sigh.
“Why should I tell you?”
“It doesn’t matter if you speak or not. Whether you wish it or not, the Black Pavilion will be destroyed—and you will die here.”
His cunning eyes glittered as he licked his lips with his tongue. He truly was a snake.
A cunning serpent whose true intentions could never be read.
“Now then, show me what you can do. Kekeke.”
With that spine-chilling laugh, his figure began to fade.
Like mist at dawn, he vanished completely.
As though he had never been standing there at all.
And then—
Swoosh!
Something hurtled toward me at terrifying speed. I twisted my head at the last instant, but still could not prevent a thin line of blood from being carved across my cheek.
An ambush.
Swish swish swish!
The sky filled with a clear rain of arrows.
I leaped forward at once, grabbed Muyoung, and shoved him beneath the carriage.
“Huk… huk…”
Fortunately, Muyoung was recovering, albeit slowly.
“Can you move?”
He gave a small nod in answer.
Thankfully, the bloodshot haze had begun to clear from his eyes.
Muyoung gripped his sword once more.
“Northwest. Fifty paces up the slope.”
I had precisely located the origin of the arrows.
Muyoung darted from beneath the carriage and flew toward the position I had indicated.
He did not appear fully recovered, but his movements seemed unhindered.
I split away from him and rapidly climbed the mountain.
The arrows came in waves, not particularly fast. Each time, I simply took cover behind trees.
Not threatening.
Slash!
The counterattack began on Muyoung’s side.
Having located the archers, he unleashed merciless sword strikes. The archers fell helplessly.
Once the distance was closed, they had no chance to evade his blade.
It took less than a quarter hour for all fifty archers to be cut down.
“Keep climbing.”
The moment the archers died, fresh killing intent surged from higher up the mountain.
It felt like a deliberate lure, inviting us onward.
A trap.
Yes, even if it was a trap, it no longer mattered.
Whatever Sa-an Gwi-gun had planned, I would end it all right here.
Pabat!
Muyoung and I raced up the mountain.
When we finally reached the source of the killing intent, I froze where I stood.
“You…”
An unexpected opponent.
The man stood with sword already drawn, calmly waiting for me.
“Wi Gun-ak.”
The captain of the Black Ghost Sword Unit—Wi Gun-ak.
Brimming with murderous intent, he slowly leveled his blade at me.