“Gasp!”
It was a struggle to breathe.
It had been an eternity since my stomach last churned like this, since my lungs felt ready to burst from my chest. My limbs, battered and broken, were as useless as over-boiled greens. Even my longsword, which once felt as nimble as a whip in my hand, now weighed as much as an iron gate.
As I fought to catch my breath, a violent spasm seized me from within.
“Uwaeeek!!”
A torrent of blood erupted from my mouth. The world spun, my vision blurring at the edges. Too much blood lost. It was getting hard to think.
Move. You have to move!
I bit my tongue, hard. The sharp, metallic pain jolted me back to my senses.
My legs pumped, and the scenery blurred into a stream of darkened green and brown on either side of me.
Just a little further…
Just beyond this forest lay a safe house I had secretly prepared. It was stocked with rare elixirs and medicinal herbs. If I could just make it there, I could mend this broken body and cheat death one more time.
It was then.
A figure blotted out the moonlight, dropping from the canopy above.
Shit. Perfect stealth.
A black sword materialized from the shadows, arcing toward my shoulder with the speed of a lightning strike.
Kang Min-hyuk’s eyes widened.
Sal-wang!
The strongest assassin in the southern Joong-gye, a phantom who waited for the perfect moment to strike.
Instinct took over. Kang Min-hyuk twisted his body, a single, fluid motion.
Schlick!
Before the masked man even hit the ground, a deep, fatal wound had been carved across his chest.
One of the three greatest assassins in the world, dead in a single exchange. Ordinarily, I might have savored the victory, but this was not the time. There was no room for sentiment when survival was measured in seconds.
Pabababak!
I don't know how long I ran.
“Hah…!”
At some point, Kang Min-hyuk skidded to a halt, his head whipping around to scan the oppressive darkness. A forest at night offered little visibility, and though my eyes could pierce the gloom better than most, the dense cedar trees swallowed the light.
‘….’
My ragged breathing suddenly ceased. In moments of extreme crisis, the body finds a strange, unnatural calm.
Kang Min-hyuk took a long, slow breath and closed his eyes.
After a moment, he spoke.
“Come out.”
His voice was quiet, but it carried. From the shadows ahead, a voice replied, laced with amusement.
“Amazing.”
Tap. Tap.
A woman emerged, making no effort to conceal her presence as she walked toward him.
Jiiiing.
Such was her incredible aura that the towering trees lining her path seemed to bend away from her, as if in supplication.
Kang Min-hyuk’s face twisted like a crumpled sheet of paper.
There were many people in this world he’d rather not see, but she was near the top of the list.
“Ma-ryeon (飛妖王).”
The woman smiled.
“It’s an honor that you remember me. It’s been what, five or six years?”
She was a peerless beauty, appearing no older than thirty, with an almost saintly aura about her. But Kang Min-hyuk was not fooled by appearances. She might look like she wouldn’t harm a fly, but in truth, she was a demented killer, said to suffer from insomnia if a day passed without murder.
Sreuk.
Ma-ryeon chuckled as Kang Min-hyuk leveled his sword at her.
“Ready to fight?”
“I don’t make a habit of quietly offering up my neck.”
“Why not make it easy on yourself? It’s not as if you could survive more than a few exchanges in your state.”
“One never knows the outcome until the blades have crossed.”
“Do you really need me to state the obvious?”
“It’s always good to be thorough. Perhaps I’ll be as knowledgeable as you when I reach sixty.”
Ma-ryeon’s face turned to ice.
Though she appeared to be in her thirties, her true age was over sixty. She maintained her youthful beauty through forbidden arts, and she was, of course, sensitive about her age.
Ma-ryeon snorted.
“You can’t afford to be so brazen when you’re about to die.”
“And if I beg for my life, you’ll grant it?”
“I might show you the mercy of not tearing your ribs from your chest before you expire.”
A truly cruel bitch.
Kang Min-hyuk’s eyes were bloodshot with fury.
“Alright, you want a piece of me? Come and get it, bitch.”
“Oh? Do you really think you have some secret plan?”
“What’s so scary about a sixty-year-old hag who only knows how to run her mouth?”
Ma-ryeon stared at Kang Min-hyuk, who spat insults as if he had nothing left to lose.
…This isn’t good.
A cold sweat trickled down Kang Min-hyuk’s back.
Ma-ryeon was one of the ten greatest masters in the world. To be in the top ten on the vast Joong-gye continent was to be nothing short of a monster.
Of course, Kang Min-hyuk was no different.
He, too, was known as the Sa-wang, and he was also counted among the ten masters.
The problem was that his martial arts were specialized for assassination, not for head-to-head combat. And after days on the run, his physical condition was at its absolute worst.
It was a fight with a foregone conclusion.
Unless, of course, he used one of the tricks that had saved his life so many times before.
Weeeeeee.
A blue energy began to shimmer along the blade of Kang Min-hyuk’s longsword. Ma-ryeon’s eyes filled with wonder.
The energy emanating from the sword was extraordinary.
To draw out that much power from a body that looked ready to collapse at any moment… he truly deserved his title as one of the ten masters.
But it wasn't his power that truly surprised her.
“So it was true.”
“What was?”
“That you were an assassin, deliberately raised by the Cheong-ui Dongmaeng.”
“…!”
Kang Min-hyuk’s face hardened.
Ma-ryeon smiled.
“I see now why Heuk-cheol Mun requested my assistance.”
While the Cheong-ui Dongmaeng walked the righteous path, Heuk-cheol Mun walked the path of corruption, blurring the lines of government and crime. And so the Heuk-cheol Seong-in himself had sent a request to Ma-ryeon.
“Your true energy is imbued with the righteous arts, the clean energy of the orthodox path. I’m certain it belongs to the Chil-dae Jeong-pa.”
Ma-ryeon was the inheritor of the teachings of the Ak-cheon, a legendary hero of the O-dae Sa-ga. Excluding the arts of the Hyeol-ma Gyo, which had secluded itself for over thirty years, her martial arts were the most sensitive to the techniques of the righteous faction.
“What difference does it make, now that you know?”
“It doesn’t change that you will die.”
Ma-ryeon’s eyes gleamed.
“But it can change many other things.”
Kang Min-hyuk did not ask what she meant.
He caught his breath and spoke.
“It was Heuk-cheol Mun that captured the Sam-jon and the Dan-hyeol Gak.”
Ma-ryeon smiled.
“That’s right. And the elites of the Geom-ma Pal-in you slaughtered over the last three days? They were all from Heuk-cheol Mun.”
“…”
“It’s truly amazing. We were curious how you managed to kill so many of our experts when the order was to capture you alive.”
It was no wonder Ma-ryeon was surprised.
The Geom-ma Pal-in were the eight pillars supporting Hwayang Heuk-cheol Mun. Though their numbers were small, each organization was composed of top-tier experts. He had single-handedly killed two hundred of them and escaped. Just a day before, he’d even butchered the Il-wol I-ma, a duo whose skills were said to approach the level of the ten masters.
Considering his grievous internal and external injuries, it was an unbelievable feat.
He was more than the Sa-wang; he was Death itself.
There was only one reason it could be possible.
“You definitely learned the martial arts of the old school. A secret technique, at that.”
Kang Min-hyuk did not answer. A denial would be pointless, and besides, she was right.
Glaring silently at Ma-ryeon, he suddenly burst out laughing.
“I see now. I know why a bloodthirsty bitch like you would waste so much time talking.”
“Oh? And what’s your guess?”
“It must be for the same reason Heuk-cheol Mun wants me alive. You want confidential information about the old faction’s martial arts. You want the Cheong-ui Dongmaeng’s secrets.”
Ma-ryeon smiled.
“You’re a smart one.”
It was a simple deduction for anyone who wasn’t a complete fool.
But Kang Min-hyuk had been fighting and running for three days straight without sleep.
To remain so clear-headed in a body on the verge of death was a feat few could manage.
But Kang Min-hyuk’s insight did not end there.
“Of course, you don’t plan on stopping there, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re planning to take the old faction’s secrets for yourself and screw Heuk-cheol Mun out of their prize, aren’t you?”
Ma-ryeon’s face hardened.
Kang Min-hyuk looked up at the sky and sighed.
“Why is there no loyalty left in this world?”
The Cheong-ui Maeng wore a mask of justice while secretly training assassins like him. They didn’t just train them; they threw them into a living hell where the only way to survive was to kill each other. Kang Min-hyuk had only been thirteen years old.
There was only one reason the Cheong-ui Maeng created such killers.
It was to assassinate the leaders of Heuk-cheol Mun and the Hyeol-ma Gyo, the other two powers of the Pung-un Sam-pa (江湖三勢). Their goal was to create a world ruled solely by the Cheong-ui Dongmaeng.
And Kang Min-hyuk, just as they’d wished, had grown terrifyingly powerful.
Ma-ryeon licked her lips.
“You are quick on the uptake.”
“Thanks for the compliment.”
For a moment, he looked almost smug.
Ma-ryeon tried to soothe him.
“I don’t need anything else. The Cheong-ui Dongmaeng’s confidential documents are nice, but what could I do with Go-jeol Cheong-sim? But…”
Her eyes sparkled with greed.
“The martial arts of the old school. Just give them to me, and I will spare your life.”
“I’m already a dead man. That’s not a very attractive deal.”
“Is it because of the blood clot?”
Kang Min-hyuk’s eyes widened.
“You know about the blood pressure?”
Ma-ryeon snorted.
“I am the successor to the Ak-cheon. I am well-versed in all manner of poisons and curses, not just the demonic arts.”
“…Right.”
“And with my skills, I can remove that blood clot from your body.”
The blood pressure.
It was the ultimate tool the Cheong-ui Dongmaeng used to control Kang Min-hyuk after he’d grown too strong. As long as that blood vessel curse lay dormant in his body, he could never betray the Cheong-ui Maeng.
Yes. As long as it was there.
Kang Min-hyuk chuckled.
Ma-ryeon flinched.
“What are you smiling about?”
“Hey, Grandma Ma-ryeon.”
“…”
“Did you really think I was only being chased by Heuk-cheol Mun?”
“What?”
Kang Min-hyuk gave his longsword a playful flick.
“I kept wondering why this chase felt so relentless. Three days… three days… yes. I was only chased by Heuk-cheol Mun for three days.”
“Then?”
“Today is the seventh day. For seven days and seven nights, I have been hunted by the Cheong-ui Dongmaeng.”
Ma-ryeon was horrified. His words, spat through gritted teeth, dripped with disgust.
Did that mean he’d fought off the forces of the Cheong-ui Dongmaeng and killed all those experts from Heuk-cheol Mun?
“Why would the Cheong-ui Dongmaeng…? Did you neutralize the blood clot?”
Kang Min-hyuk said nothing.
She was right. Seven days ago, he had deciphered the curse. The Cheong-ui Dongmaeng had known instantly. Like many poisons, the blood clot was linked; when the slave-curse died, the master-curse in their headquarters alerted them.
Shit.
He ground his teeth.
He had sacrificed thirty years of his life just to escape the hell known as the Cheong-ui Dongmaeng. He had discovered how to break the curse five years ago, but back then, he hadn't been confident he could survive their pursuit. He had spent those five years training, bleeding, and preparing.
And somehow, he had broken through the Cheong-ui Dongmaeng’s inescapable net in four days.
Who could have known that Heuk-cheol Mun would get involved in this mess, too?
What a fucking life. What a fucking world.
At first, there had been only lamentation.
At times, he’d thought about just giving up.
But now?
Saaaaaaaaaaaah.
Ma-ryeon took an unconscious step back.
A terrifying killing intent radiated from Kang Min-hyuk, who stood with his eyes closed, gripping his longsword. It was the aura of Sal-ju, the world’s number one killer, the secret master of the Chil-dae Jeong-pa.
Kang Min-hyuk opened his eyes.
Flash!
His gaze burned with explosive rage.
“The martial arts of the old faction? You’ll save me? Don’t make me laugh. Do you think I don’t see the greed in your eyes?”
Ma-ryeon swallowed dryly.
If they fought, she was certain she would win. But in the face of this overwhelming spirit, she felt a flicker of hesitation.
“I have lived in the hands of others for thirty years. I no longer care about my own life.”
Wooooow!
The light burning from his longsword intensified until the blade itself was lost in the glare.
“I will say this one last time. Walk away from here, now.”
“…”
“Do that, and I will spare your filthy life.”
Ma-ryeon’s face contorted into a demonic snarl.
“How dare a dying man make such bluffs!”
Kang Min-hyuk growled.
“You stupid bitch! I’m not the problem! The Cheong-ui Dongmaeng forces I shook off are catching up, and they’ve brought the Cheol-hyeol bastards with them!”
“What?!”
“Use your head, if you have one! You think Cheol-hyeol doesn’t know about your greed? They’re setting a trap for you as we speak!”
Ma-ryeon’s eyes wavered.
Her arrogance, born from her supreme martial arts, had blinded her. She had never considered that she could be the one walking into an ambush.
“Move! We find our own ways to live!”
“…”
“If you don’t get out of the way, we’ll all die here…”
“Don’t worry about me.”
Ma-ryeon grinned, a chilling sight.
As she slowly raised a hand, her perfectly manicured nails grew long and sharp, turning a blood-red.
“I am not a cornered rat like you. And I never let anyone who insults me live.”
Hahaha!
A thick, evil energy poured from Ma-ryeon’s body.
It was a presence far more distinct than mere killing intent. In the distance, experts who sensed the malevolent power began to converge on their location.
“You’re not going to get out of my way, are you? I can see it in your eyes.”
Flash!
Beyond the suffocating aura, a frenzied bloodlust erupted.
“Then die, you useless bastard.”
Kang Min-hyuk grinned.
It was a laugh mixed with every emotion imaginable—anger, sadness, desperation, and despair.
“I’ll prove my worth, bitch.”
Paaaaang!
Kang Min-hyuk shot toward her like an arrow.
Ma-ryeon lunged to meet him.
The sword and the claws of the two masters clashed head-on.
Quang!