As the three of them slipped out of the Namga estate, no one had yet discovered that the master of the house was dead.
But it wouldn’t be long before the body was found, so they hurriedly made their way out of the village.
“That was easier than I thought.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way without any more trouble.”
They walked briskly towards Luoyang, a bit faster than their usual pace.
During the journey, Tang Mujin felt a tightness in his chest.
It wasn’t a physical ailment. It was the memory of witnessing the death of the Namga master and the anxiety that someone might come after them for it.
Months had passed since he started following Gwi. Tang Mujin had seen people die by the sword several times. He was no longer so sensitive that he would dwell on it for days.
Yet, death hadn’t become so routine that he was entirely desensitized. He wasn’t sure if he ever would be.
But the somber mood didn’t last long.
Hong Geolge’s relentless stream of jokes lightened the atmosphere, making it impossible to stay downcast.
Within a couple of hours, the tension had dissipated, and they were able to enjoy dinner in a relatively normal mood.
The real issue arose afterward.
Just as Tang Mujin was about to spar with Hong Geolge, Gwi, who had been lounging with his chin propped on his hand, suddenly sat up.
“Looks like we’ve got company.”
“What kind of company?”
“Who else could it be?”
Without further explanation, Gwi slipped behind a tree, leaving Tang Mujin and Hong Geolge awkwardly standing there.
Moments later, the “guests” Gwi mentioned appeared.
Draped from head to toe in black cloth with only their eyes visible, they were the men in black.
Tang Mujin tensed up. It was his first encounter with them, and he had never heard of them showing up with good intentions.
Each of the men in black was armed, their hands resting on their weapons as if ready to draw at any moment.
They conversed among themselves.
“Didn’t they say there were three?”
“Yeah, there were three sets of footprints.”
“Let’s see… only two kids here. Where’s the old man?”
“Do you think you won’t age? Show some respect and call him an elder, you brats.”
Gwi emerged from the side, swinging his sword. In one swift motion, he decapitated one of them.
The remaining three men in black quickly retreated.
They scrutinized Gwi, and one of them recognized him.
“Shit, it’s Lee Chung! Who called him an old man?”
“Who’s Lee Chung?”
“The infamous Gwi, Lee Chung!”
At the mention of his notorious alias, the men in black abandoned any thought of resistance and turned to flee.
The name “Gwi” was far more feared than the mundane “Lee Chung.”
The three men scattered in different directions, running with astonishing speed.
The one who had recognized Gwi was the fastest and had already gained the most distance.
Gwi turned to Tang Mujin and Hong Geolge.
“I’ll go after the one in the middle. You two take care of the others.”
“Can we handle it?”
“You have to. If you fail, our journey will become a lot more troublesome. You won’t even be able to sleep properly.”
With that, Gwi dashed towards the center, and Tang Mujin and Hong Geolge each pursued their targets. Tang Mujin went left, Hong Geolge right.
Tang Mujin’s heart pounded, and his mind raced. Could he catch up to someone fleeing so quickly? Would he get lost in the forest at night? Even if he caught up, could he win?
The fleeing man in black moved with such speed that it seemed more like a four-legged beast than a human.
Yet, strangely enough, the distance between them was gradually closing.
“Am I really this fast?”
It seemed the training in the art of Jaunbo was paying off.
He recalled the first day he learned Jaunbo, struggling like a patient twisted by a strange disease.
Back then, he couldn’t cover much ground in a day, drenched in sweat by sunset. Now, it had become second nature, his body instinctively using Jaunbo the moment he needed to move quickly.
As the presence behind him drew closer, the man in black glanced back.
Their eyes met, and Tang Mujin could see the relief in the man’s eyes.
The man slowed his pace, catching his breath. Even through the mask, Tang Mujin could tell he was smiling.
“What makes you think you can keep up? We only ran because of Gwi, not because of you.”
The man in black took a few steps toward Tang Mujin, then suddenly closed the distance like lightning, drawing his sword in a single fluid motion. It was a swift, practiced strike.
Tang Mujin partially drew his own sword, blocking the attack. His stance was awkward, but his defense was surprisingly stable.
“Quick reflexes!”
The man in black continued his assault, forcing Tang Mujin to parry each strike.
His defense was solid, but attacking felt daunting.
It wasn’t that he hesitated or didn’t want to harm the man in black.
The problem was the apparent gaps in the man’s technique.
The openings were so obvious that they seemed like traps.
If he struck at those gaps, he feared he’d be met with the man’s mocking grin.
“Ha!”
Unaware of Tang Mujin’s thoughts, the man in black grew more excited, swinging his sword with increasing fervor.
But merely defending wouldn’t lead to victory. Tang Mujin steeled himself.
He resolved to retreat quickly if he fell for a feint and began to execute the techniques of the Jasim Sword.
Tang Mujin smoothly deflected the man’s strike and extended his own sword.
“Hup!”
The man in black recoiled in shock, barely dodging the attack. His reaction was so feeble it seemed almost comical. He staggered, then regained his composure and taunted again.
“So, the kid knows how to swing a sword!”
It seemed those gaps weren’t feints after all.
Tang Mujin began to counterattack, occasionally thrusting his sword as he blocked the man’s strikes.
As this pattern continued, Tang Mujin found himself shifting from defense to offense. It was a bewildering feeling.
“Am I really this good at fighting?”
The man in black was even more flustered than Tang Mujin. He barely managed to fend off Tang Mujin’s attacks before hastily retreating.
“Is he trying to escape?”
But Tang Mujin’s assumption was wrong.
The man in black, retreating, suddenly produced throwing knives from somewhere and hurled them.
Three knives. One missed, one was deflected by Tang Mujin’s blade, but the third grazed his side. The darkness had delayed his reaction to the man’s movements.
The man in black’s eyes curved into a crescent as he smiled with satisfaction.
“Looks like you’ve learned some swordplay, but it’s over now. Your side must be tingling, right?”
As he said, Tang Mujin felt a strange sensation in his side. The knives must have been poisoned.
The man in black widened the distance and continued.
“It’s a poison extracted from the Yongwon. In less than a moment, you’ll lose all feeling in your body. You’ll just lie there, eyes wide open, watching as a blade pierces your neck. It won’t hurt.”
He mocked Tang Mujin, who seemed to falter, then approached to threaten him with his sword.
All his actions were meant to force Tang Mujin to move, to make his heart race and spread the poison faster.
Tang Mujin calmed himself, breathing slowly as he parried the man’s attacks.
At the same time, he focused inward, observing the spread of the poison. He could feel it radiating from his side.
“But compared to the poison of the Chilbo Society, this is nothing.”
Tang Mujin carefully channeled his inner energy, drawing the poison into his dantian. Having recently dealt with a potent poison, the Yongwon’s poison was easily absorbed by the poison core within him.
The process felt remarkably natural. It was hard to tell if he was guiding the poison, if the core was actively absorbing it, or if the poison was seeking out the core.
As the fight dragged on, the man in black’s confident expression began to waver with doubt.
“Why are you still standing? Are you sucking on an antidote or something?”
“Why don’t you come and find out?”
If the man in black decided to flee again, it would be troublesome.
Tang Mujin slowed his pace slightly, then suddenly surged forward, closing the distance with explosive speed. At the same time, he unleashed a technique from the Jasim Sword.
“What the—!”
The man in black recoiled in terror, but it wasn’t enough. Tang Mujin’s sword pierced his abdomen.
It wasn’t a strike to the heart, but a stab to the belly.
The man in black staggered back, collapsing to the ground. Blood gushed from his abdomen and mouth.
“To think I’d fall to a mere kid…”
A wound through the abdomen is no ordinary injury. It wasn’t just a side wound; it pierced right through the center, where all the vital organs are. Even if a doctor were to see it immediately, survival would be unlikely.
The man in black, seemingly caught off guard by his impending defeat, looked up at Tang Mujin in disbelief.
His face was contorted with pain, flushed even in the dim light, with veins bulging on his forehead. His breathing was ragged and shallow, reminiscent of a consumptive patient.
He fumbled around his waist, eventually grabbing the sheath where the dagger had been.
With the sheath, he tapped lightly over his wound, as if hoping to numb the pain with the eternal poison it once held.
But there wasn’t enough poison left on the sheath to have any effect.
Gasping for breath, the man clutched his abdomen.
Tang Mujin watched him for a moment before approaching. The man closed his eyes and spoke.
“I know it’s shameless, but please, show mercy and end it quickly. I can’t stand the pain.”
Tang Mujin had no intention of sparing him. But there was no need for unnecessary suffering.
He crouched beside the man, placing his palm over the wound. The eternal poison, drawn from his own resolve, seeped into the injury.
“I asked you to kill me…”
The man, not comprehending the situation, panted heavily, but soon felt the pain begin to subside.
He lifted his head slightly to look at his abdomen.
Blood still flowed, and his limbs were weak. His breath was still labored.
But the pain was gone.
Realization dawned on him about what Tang Mujin’s touch had meant.
“You’re no ordinary novice… Thank you.”
With those words, the man closed his eyes and slowly embraced death.
Tang Mujin checked his pulse to confirm his passing, then turned away.