Chapter v16c18

*Assassination*

– Approaching Shadows –

With a rustle of wings, a falcon with crimson feathers took flight from Young Master Bi’s arm. He calmly read the small message clutched in his hand, his gaze cold and unfeeling.

His heart, however, was troubled. It wasn’t a scheduled day for reports. The sudden arrival of the Red Thunder falcon meant urgent news.

His sharp eyebrows twitched, and he unconsciously frowned.

The message was not something to be ignored.

“My lord, is there bad news…?” Chu Myeong, the Sword Demon, sensing his master’s unease, asked cautiously. Bi silently handed him the message.

“Th-This is…”

Chu Myeong’s eyes widened as he carefully took the message.

It bore a red seal, signifying “highest priority,” and the following words:

*[Top Secret Urgent Matter]*

*Unscheduled message transmission pursuant to Emergency Response Protocol Article 2, Clause 1*

*Confirmation of current location of An Myeong-hu, the Nine-Foot Iron Heart*

*Location: Mount Hua, Heavenly Martial Peak, Three saints Pavilion*

*Currently unconscious*

*No signs of information leak*

*Elimination required as top priority*

*Must be eliminated*

“My lord, the Three saints Pavilion…”

Bi nodded, without turning around.

“Yes, we’re to enter the tiger’s den and snatch its prey. Mu-jeong!”

“You called, my lord!”

A long shadow rose, revealing a figure. It was Mu-jeong, the Remnant Mist, One Drop of Blood, one of the Six Stars of the Heavenly Demon. He never showed his face, even to his comrades. He was a cold-blooded assassin, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

“There’s something you need to do.”

“Your command is my will.” Mu-jeong replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

The Three saints Pavilion, the private residence of the Heavenly Martial Three Saints.

A man lay on a bed, his face bandaged, covered by a white cotton blanket. A basin of water, bandages, and a medicine pot sat beside the bed, as if prepared for tending to a patient. The scent of herbal medicine permeated the room. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting long shadows.

One of the shadows suddenly rippled, as if disturbed. Then, defying its usual position, it rose towards the light.

The shadow, which had always been subservient to the light, shifting and changing according to its whims, now rebelled, taking on a shape and substance of its own. It gradually formed into the shape of a man.

Mu-jeong, the Shadow Man, looked around cautiously, checking for any signs of life. Sensing nothing, he moved towards the bed.

Assassinations weren’t limited to the night. A sunny afternoon, when people were most relaxed, was the perfect time to strike.

Mu-jeong approached the man lying motionless on the bed. He wore a black mask and a tight-fitting black suit. He moved silently, like a wisp of smoke, his movements so stealthy that they didn’t even disturb the air. He stopped beside the bed.

The man was still unconscious, as the message had indicated. Mu-jeong drew his sword.

*For the completion of the grand plan!*

Without hesitation, he plunged his sword into the man’s throat.

Blood spurted out, a fatal wound for any human. But Mu-jeong raised his sword again, just to be sure.

He heard footsteps outside the door. Startled, he quickly retreated into the shadows.

Im Deok-seong’s hand, reaching for the doorknob, suddenly stopped.

“Hmm?”

*Blood?*

He smelled something that triggered his instincts.

“What’s wrong, brother?”

They had just finished a hearty meal and were about to enter their room.

Im Deok-seong was certain. It was the smell of blood, coming from behind the door. His instincts, honed through countless battles, screamed at him. It was dangerous to enter. Something was waiting for them. It was just a feeling, but he knew better than to ignore it.

He signaled to Mo-gyeong, his trusted lieutenant, with a glance. Mo-gyeong understood immediately. They quietly released the doorknob and moved to the side.

Their method of entry was surprisingly crude. They didn’t use the door. And they didn’t bother with the obvious route, the window.

“Hup!”

Im Deok-seong charged at the wall, his body a battering ram, his momentum flowing from his feet to his ankles, his waist, his shoulders. The wall crumbled under the impact, sending shards of wood and plaster flying like projectiles. Mo-gyeong was equally direct.

Crash!

He burst through the ceiling.

They entered the room, their backs to each other, scanning their surroundings.

Mo-gyeong saw the blood-soaked bed.

“Who dares?!”

He roared, his voice filled with rage. As his nickname, the Storm Wave Saber, suggested, he had a fiery temper. He charged towards the bed, unable to contain his anger.

Im Deok-seong, meanwhile, scanned the room, his eyes darting back and forth. And for a moment, his gaze left Mo-gyeong, creating an opening.

Mo-gyeong’s shadow shifted, and a figure emerged from it. The figure lunged at Mo-gyeong, a thin blade aimed at his heart.

“Brother!”

Mu-jeong, startled, threw a handful of darts at Im Deok-seong, who was turning around. Blood dripped from his sword.

Im Deok-seong spun his saber, deflecting nine of the ten darts, but one struck him near his neck. He had been distracted by the sudden attack and Mo-gyeong’s injury, his reflexes dulled. He hoped it wasn’t poisoned. But even if it was, the poison from such a small dart wouldn’t be fatal.

He ignored the dart in his neck and swung his saber, his momentum powerful enough to split a mountain in two. Mu-jeong dodged, drawing his sword, a thin, needle-like blade.

“You’re… dead…”

Im Deok-seong couldn’t finish his sentence. He stammered, his tongue paralyzed.

*Could it be?*

He quickly pulled the dart from his neck and threw it at Mu-jeong, who caught it effortlessly.

The poison wasn’t fatal, but it was enough to silence him. It was probably the Silent Poison, a favorite among assassins, a poison that paralyzed the tongue.

He couldn’t call for help. Not that he would have, even if he could speak. He was too proud.

“Ugh…”

Mo-gyeong, lying in a pool of his own blood, groaned. A flicker of hope appeared in Im Deok-seong’s eyes.

“Ar… Argh… Ugh… Uh… Ahh!”

He wanted to ask if Mo-gyeong was alive, but he couldn’t speak. It was a potent poison.

But his eyes lit up. He knew that a skilled assassin like Mu-jeong wouldn’t have missed his heart. Mo-gyeong, sensing the attack, had twisted his body, avoiding a fatal blow. His heart would have been skewered if he had been a moment slower.

‘I’ll be gone for a few days. Take care of him while I’m gone! It’s unlikely, but there’s a chance of trouble. I’m trusting you two to protect him. He knows a lot of secrets. He can’t die! I believe in you!’

‘Don’t worry, Sword Saint! I, Im Deok-seong, the King of the Green Forest, swear to protect him with my life.’

‘Thank you! I’m counting on you.’

He remembered saying those words, his chest puffed out with pride. But what was this? The mighty King of the Green Forest reduced to this pathetic state?

“Hmm!”

He growled, glaring at the assassin. He couldn’t speak, but he wasn’t worried. He hadn’t intended to call for help anyway. Why rely on others when he had two perfectly good hands? He would be too ashamed to return to the mountains if he did. What if word got out? He shuddered at the thought. It would be a disgrace.

*Alright, you bastard! I’ll turn you into mincemeat!*

He pointed his saber at the assassin.

An aura of power, as heavy as a mountain, emanated from him. He had been overshadowed by the Heavenly Martial Three Saints, but he was Im Deok-seong, the leader of the Seventy-Two Bands of the Green Forest, the King of the Green Forest, the ruler of the mountains. A petty assassin was no match for him. His saber radiated a terrifying aura, pinning Mu-jeong in place.

*Hup!*

He roared inwardly and unleashed a powerful strike.

*Storm Wind, Demonic Wolf Saber Technique, Third Move: One Strike, One Kill*

The building shook, dust billowing as the saber cleaved through the air. Tiles rained down from the roof.

But Mu-jeong was still standing. He hadn’t been cut in half. Instead, another masked figure had appeared in front of him, his sword angled to deflect Im Deok-seong’s attack.

“Who are you? You dare block my strike?!”

He couldn’t believe it. Someone had actually blocked his attack.

“Let’s just say I’m here to help!”

The newcomer was the same masked man who had appeared before Wi Ji-cheon.

Im Deok-seong’s attack had been deflected, but its power hadn’t dissipated. It had merely been redirected.

The room was in ruins. Nothing was left intact, not even the bed. The blanket, caught in the whirlwind of saber energy, had been shredded to pieces, its fragments fluttering like snowflakes.

*This is bad!*

Even this fearless man couldn’t help but sweat. He had hoped his enemies were fools, but it seemed like he had overestimated them.

“Damn it!”

Mu-jeong cursed. He could speak after all.

“We’ve been tricked!”

The newcomer said, his voice grim.

They were right to be surprised. The figure lying on the bed, covered in blood, wasn’t a human. It was a dummy, its face carefully crafted, but its body a crudely stuffed sack of straw. It was a humiliating mistake for a seasoned assassin.

*Ha! You failed!*

Im Deok-seong wanted to gloat, but he couldn’t speak properly because of the poison.

*I prepared this just in case, but I didn’t think they would actually fall for it…*

Mo-gyeong, despite his brutish appearance, was a cunning man. He had good subordinates.

*Don’t die, Mo-gyeong… I need you…*

The newcomer spoke, his voice cold.

“It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have two bodies. Hey, you! He’s in here somewhere. I’ll hold him off. You go find him!”

Mu-jeong nodded and moved.

*Not if I can help it!*

Im Deok-seong swung his saber, forcing the newcomer back, then charged towards An Myeong-hu’s location.

“Damn it… This is embarrassing…”

He muttered, sweat dripping down his face. He was covered in cuts and bruises, and he was already out of breath.

An Myeong-hu’s real location was a beautifully decorated woman’s room. It was supposed to be the Sword Empress’s room, but An Myeong-hu had been using it. It was another simple but effective delaying tactic.

*I’m already this tired after running just ten li…?*

Ten li in the mountains was equivalent to fifty li on flat ground. He would have been called a monster if he were an ordinary person, but considering his status, it wasn’t that surprising. He was the leader of the Seventy-Two Bands of the Green Forest, the King of the Green Forest. The mountains were his home, his workplace, his backyard. They were a part of him.

He could normally run ten li, a hundred li, without breaking a sweat. But things were different now. He was carrying a burden.

*I never realized how hard it was to fight while carrying someone.*

He was used to being the attacker, not the protector. The protected were always on the other side of his blade. It felt strange to be in this position.

He had started his career as a bandit at the age of twelve. Forty years had passed since then. He wasn’t cut out to be a bodyguard. The burden on his back was distracting, slowing him down. He had almost been caught off guard several times because he had forgotten about the person he was carrying.

He wanted to put An Myeong-hu down and fight properly, but it was too risky. At least he had managed to injure one of his pursuers, slowing him down. But his determination was unwavering.

He had always lived a dangerous life, unafraid of blood and pain. He was brave, fierce, and savage. His teeth and claws were still sharp, despite his injuries. But he was getting tired, weakened by blood loss. He stumbled, losing his balance. It was a small mistake, but it was all his pursuer needed.

“It’s over!”

The masked man leaped forward, his sword raised, his voice filled with triumph.

“Die!”

He was certain that Im Deok-seong couldn’t dodge his attack. Im Deok-seong was tough, he might even survive. He was the man who had survived ninety-nine stab wounds. But the person on his back would surely die. But as he was about to strike, someone intervened.

### Starlight Beginning

The newcomer swung his staff, scattering starlight.

Clang!

The masked man was forced to defend himself, abandoning his attack on An Myeong-hu. He couldn’t avoid one of the strikes, and it grazed his side.

Im Deok-seong, regaining his balance, turned to thank his savior. The newcomer also turned, wanting to see who he had helped.

“Oh, thank…”

“Hey, are you…”

They stared at each other, speechless.

“S-Son!”

“F-Father!”

It was Im Seong-jin, his son, wielding the Starry Sky Staff. Im Deok-seong had stumbled into the Earth Trial area.

They were both speechless, reunited by chance.

“W-What are you doing here…?”

Im Seong-jin’s gaze shifted to the person tied to his father’s back. He looked at his father’s rugged face, then at the unconscious man’s face, his eyes narrowed.

“What’s that? Are you into human trafficking now?”