Chapter 57: Forced Choice (3)

**BOOM!**

“Gah!” Yeom-gwang screamed as a fist smashed through the wall, sending him flying.

His spine cracked, and his mouth gaped open in pain.

Ju Gyeom, reacting with lightning speed, drew his sword and slashed at the wall.

**Shing! Swish!**

He used the momentum of the collapsing wall to spin around and unleash a flurry of strikes. It was a swift and decisive response, but the attacker was no pushover.

“Tsk, another one hiding here?”

Black palms materialized in the air, multiplying and deflecting Ju Gyeom’s blade.

He finally got a clear view of his opponent.

It was an old man with a muscular build, dressed in tight black clothing. A leathery membrane stretched from his ribs to his elbows.

And he was wearing black gauntlets.

Ju Gyeom gasped.

“The Hidden Moon Flying Thief, Gon Ya-pyeong!”

“Hmph! You recognize me? You’re not as foolish as you look!”

The black gauntlets moved in a blur, filling the alley with a flurry of hand shadows.

**Clang! Ping!**

The Euncheon Hall instructors raised their swords, forming a defensive wall of steel.

“What business does a demonic thief have here?!”

“Dead men tell no tales.”

Ju Gyeom unleashed his signature move, a blindingly fast attack that could kill anyone within ten steps before they even realized what had happened.

“Hmm?”

Gon Ya-pyeong, sensing the power behind the attack, tensed his arms, and the membrane on his body expanded, allowing him to twist out of the way.

He dodged Ju Gyeom’s attack with an uncanny agility, twisting and turning in the air like a bat.

‘It’s really him. That strange movement technique must be the Floating Cloud Steps.’

The situation was bad.

The Floating Cloud Steps were particularly effective in confined spaces, making them a terrible matchup for Ju Gyeom’s swordsmanship.

Gon Ya-pyeong kicked off the wall and launched a palm strike.

Ju Gyeom gathered his internal energy and met the attack head-on.

**Clang!**

“Ugh!”

He was pushed back two steps, but his expression brightened. The palm strike was weaker than he had expected.

He quickly realized why.

“That old thief is injured! Surround him and stall for time!”

He deflected a barrage of hand shadows, a confident smile on his face.

Then, he felt a sharp pain in his knees and ankles.

“Argh!”

He screamed as a searing pain shot up his spine, paralyzing his lower body.

In that instant of vulnerability, Gon Ya-pyeong, who had been circling in the air, struck him in the chest and jaw, then kicked him in the stomach and dantian.

**Thud! Thud!**

“Gah!”

He saw blood and teeth flying through the air as he was sent sprawling.

***

“Instructor Ju!” Yeom-gwang screamed as Ju Gyeom collapsed, blood spurting from his wounds.

He had forgotten all about Cho Un-hwi.

His only concern was survival.

The attacker was a notorious demonic expert who had defeated even Ju Gyeom, their strongest fighter.

**Clang! Clang!**

Gon Ya-pyeong slammed Ju Gyeom’s head against the wall, then turned his attention to the other instructors, his movements swift and unpredictable.

“Don’t let him escape!”

The Euncheon Hall instructors, despite their shock, instinctively formed a sword formation.

They hoped to trap the thief and stall for time until reinforcements from the Murim Alliance arrived.

“Tsk, ganging up on me? Have you no shame?”

Their strategy worked for a while.

But then, Gon Ya-pyeong flicked his left wrist.

**Swish! Swish!**

“Argh!”

Blood spurted from one of the instructor’s wrists.

Yeom-gwang gasped as he saw a shimmering thread embedded in the wound.

“Sky Silkworm Thread?”

“You have a good eye!”

The Sky Silkworm Thread.

It was a legendary material, as strong as steel and as sharp as a blade.

It was incredibly rare and valuable, worth ten times its weight in gold.

Gon Ya-pyeong was wielding it like a whip, his movements swift and deadly.

**Whoosh!**

The thread wrapped around one of the instructor’s swords, severing it in two.

“Ugh!”

The instructor coughed up blood as his sword Qi was disrupted.

“Instructor Sa!” another instructor screamed, but it was too late. Gon Ya-pyeong was already upon him, his palm strikes raining down on him.

**Thud! Thud!**

“Ugh!”

The instructor collapsed, his limbs twisted at unnatural angles.

The remaining instructors were horrified.

‘Is the Hidden Moon Flying Thief really this strong?’

He was far more powerful than the rumors suggested.

“You’re next!”

Gon Ya-pyeong charged into the group of instructors, his palm strikes blurring. The three remaining instructors raised their swords, ready to fight to the death.

**Clang! Clang!**

**Boom! Boom!**

The alley echoed with the sounds of clashing steel and exploding palms.

“Ugh, you’re not bad.”

Gon Ya-pyeong was gaining the upper hand, but he was sweating profusely. He was injured.

It was a back-and-forth battle.

Whoever faltered first would lose.

A hundred moves passed in an instant.

One of the instructors, who had been holding his ground, clutched his stomach and groaned.

“Ugh!”

**Thud! Thud!**

He was caught in a flurry of palm strikes, his body jerking like a puppet with its strings cut, then he was thrown aside.

His comrade’s eyes widened as he saw something protruding from the fallen instructor’s dantian.

“You cowardly bastard! Using hidden weapons! Gah!”

He lunged at Gon Ya-pyeong, but he was quickly disarmed and sent sprawling, blood spraying from his wounds.

The last remaining Euncheon Hall instructor, Gwan-saek, was in a difficult position.

‘Damn it, I’m out of luck.’

He hadn’t planned on coming today.

He had only come because he was worried about Cho Un-hwi.

‘I just wanted to help him because he’s friends with Instructor Mo Yong.’

He had tried to dissuade the others from attacking, but they had insisted. And now, they were facing the Hidden Moon Flying Thief.

‘It can’t be helped. A martial artist’s life is always on the line.’

He raised his sword and pointed it at Gon Ya-pyeong.

But the thief’s reaction was strange.

“Help! Someone help me!”

He was crawling away, his eyes fixed on a dark corner of the alley.

‘Is he trying to lure me into a trap?’

He watched him cautiously.

“Tsk, this isn’t good.”

Gon Ya-pyeong leaped into the air, his membrane expanding.

He soared away, riding the wind.

Gwan-saek collapsed to the ground, his legs trembling.

He had been saved by a whim of fate.

He pulled a whistle from his robe and blew it with all his might.

**Peeeet!**

The Murim Alliance’s emergency whistle echoed through the night.

***

Yeom-gwang collapsed to the ground as he heard the whistle.

“Gasp… gasp… what…?”

How had things gone so wrong?

Why was a demonic expert in Muhan City?

His thoughts were interrupted by a terrifying memory.

The Euncheon Hall instructors, who he had considered to be invincible, had been defeated so easily.

“The Hidden Moon Flying Thief… he’s that strong?”

He bit down on his thumb, his teeth chattering. Blood flowed freely, but he couldn’t feel the pain.

‘This is a nightmare. A nightmare.’

This wasn’t part of the plan.

The plan had been simple. They were supposed to teach that annoying brat a lesson.

That was all.

He had used all his connections and spent a fortune to make it happen.

There was no way it could have failed.

“Ugh… this is a nightmare… a nightmare…”

But the nightmare wasn’t over yet.

*[Is this where you’ve been hiding?]*

He heard a voice he never expected to hear in this place.

He whirled around, his heart pounding.

“T-there’s no one there…”

Had he imagined it?

*[Over here. Over here.]*

“Aaaaah!”

He spun around again, his eyes darting frantically.

But there was no one there.

Nothing.

*[Don’t be afraid.]*

“Go away! Leave me alone!”

What was that voice?

Why was this happening to him?

He tore at his hair, his fingers digging into his scalp until blood streamed down his face.

And then, he saw it.

A small doll appeared in the alley.

“I-Instructor Cho?”

But it wasn’t him.

It was something… inhuman.

It was shrouded in darkness, its red eyes glowing ominously.

‘It’s like a demon…’

It was definitely not human.

Why had he thought it was Instructor Cho?

He was human, wasn’t he?

“Aaaaaah…”

The monstrous creature spoke.

*[Is your side okay?]*

His side?

He looked down. He didn’t feel any pain.

*[Oh dear, your side is ripped open.]*

It was true.

His side, which had been fine just a moment ago, was now split open, something white and glistening spilling out.

His eyes glazed over, and he muttered, “My side… it’s ripped open…”

He took out his sword and dug it into his wound. It felt a little better.

*[Oh dear, why is your wrist broken?]*

“My wrist… it’s broken…”

He used his left hand to smash his right wrist repeatedly until it dangled limply.

*[You’re so hurt. I feel sorry for you.]*

**Thud! Thud! Thud!**

His face emotionless, he punched himself repeatedly.

His lips split, and his eyes swelled shut, but he didn’t stop.

His face was covered in blood, but he just kept muttering, “Thud… thud… thud…”

The sound of his fists hitting his flesh echoed through the alley.

When the Murim Alliance warriors arrived, they found Yeom-gwang lying in a pool of blood, his body mangled beyond recognition.

***

“Haaaah…”

Namgung Yun-ho opened his eyes.

He turned his head and saw his brother, his arms crossed, his brow furrowed.

“Brother, why did you do that?”

Namgung Yong-ho was leaning against the door, his expression incredulous.

“Why did you anger Uncle? This is your chance to return to the clan. You won’t get another opportunity like this.”

“Yong-ho…”

“I don’t understand you. You’ve suffered so much, and now you have a chance to turn your life around, but you’re throwing it all away! Do you want better terms? I can talk to Uncle. He listens to me.”

What kind of terms would be acceptable?

Should he ask to learn the clan’s secret sword techniques? Should he ask for a position of power within the clan? If he wanted to be influential, should he ask to manage the clan’s finances?

Namgung Yun-ho watched his brother chatter incessantly, then said, “Yong-ho.”

Namgung Yong-ho’s cheerful expression vanished.

“Why won’t you accept his offer?! Why?!”

“…”

“Is it like Uncle said? Are you jealous of my position? Are you angry that I’m going to be the next clan leader?!”

His brother’s voice was filled with rage. He was no longer the sweet child he had known.

When had he changed so much?

Namgung Yong-ho sneered.

“You said you needed until tonight to decide, right? Why? Do you think that amazing instructor of yours is going to change things?”

“…”

“You clearly don’t know Uncle. That instructor isn’t coming. Do you really think Uncle would just sit back and do nothing?”

Namgung Yun-ho’s eyes twitched, but he quickly regained his composure.

Namgung Yong-ho, exhausted from his tirade, gave him a final warning.

“Uncle is coming soon. It’s time to make a decision. This is your chance to finally meet the clan’s expectations. Stop being stubborn.”

He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Namgung Yun-ho closed his eyes, his gaze fixed on the door.