A little while back, when Hong Gyeong-rae was on the brink of being executed by fire, Nam Gong-myeong was still biding his time, hidden behind a statue of Buddha.
The Grand Protector remained vigilant, not leaving his post or allowing his focus to waver. His posture was as steady as ever. Yet, Nam Gong-myeong was in no rush.
“Everyone loses focus eventually. Especially if they stay still for too long.”
As more time passed, Nam Gong-myeong sensed a slight dulling in the sharp aura of the Grand Protector. He smiled in the darkness.
“Just as I thought.”
Nam Gong-myeong’s form melted into the shadows, reappearing atop the shoulder of the Buddha statue, crouched and peering down at the Grand Protector.
The Buddha’s hands, gently folded, almost completely obscured the Grand Protector’s head. But a person’s vulnerabilities aren’t limited to their head. Through the gap between the Buddha’s hands and body, the Grand Protector’s back was clearly visible.
If the opponent is defenseless, it doesn’t matter much where you strike. What matters is how deep the blade goes. Whether it’s the chest, neck, or back, if the blade pierces between the ribs and reaches the lungs, it’s over.
“Approach without him noticing, and strike once. Deeply.”
Nam Gong-myeong descended slowly from the statue’s shoulder, like a snail. Quietly, he approached the Grand Protector, his sword already drawn and inching closer.
“Almost there… almost…”
Just as Nam Gong-myeong’s sword was about to reach its target, he sensed a slight movement.
In the hall, only Nam Gong-myeong and the Grand Protector were capable of moving. Nam Gong-myeong’s gaze met the Grand Protector’s, who had turned around, startled.
“When did you—!”
The Grand Protector, sharper than most warriors, was caught off guard. Nam Gong-myeong thought as much, thrusting his sword toward the Grand Protector’s back.
It seemed like the obvious move, but it was also extremely risky. Drawing his sword with the Grand Protector right there meant exposing his own vulnerabilities.
The Grand Protector had two choices: strike Nam Gong-myeong’s exposed head or block the sword aimed at the Grand Protector.
The Grand Protector chose the latter, more out of reflex than calculated decision. His quick swing deflected Nam Gong-myeong’s sword.
Unfortunately, Nam Gong-myeong’s blade didn’t reach its intended target.
“At least a severe internal injury, at most, madness or death. The power from the elixir won’t be fully realized.”
Nam Gong-myeong believed he could achieve more, so he swung his sword again, taking advantage of the Grand Protector’s momentary confusion. Yet, even in his surprise, the Grand Protector skillfully parried Nam Gong-myeong’s attack.
The Grand Protector leaped forward, counterattacking, and their swords clashed several more times.
“The Grand Protector’s martial arts… something’s different.”
The techniques he used now were sharper and more fluid than those he had displayed during their previous encounter on Mount Wudang. His movements were flexible, yet his swordplay was strong and unyielding.
It was clear the Grand Protector had mastered two styles of martial arts. The one he was using now was likely the first he learned, as people tend to rely on their most familiar skills in urgent situations.
Nam Gong-myeong recognized the style from somewhere. During his days of hunting assassins with friends, some of those assassins had used similar techniques.
Nam Gong-myeong spoke up.
“Grand Protector, you must be from the Assassin’s Den.”
The Grand Protector didn’t respond, but sometimes silence speaks volumes.
Nam Gong-myeong sensed a deep anxiety in the Grand Protector’s eyes, a desire to check on the Grand Protector’s condition. But to Nam Gong-myeong, it seemed more like a personal anxiety than loyalty.
Sometimes, affection can be dangerous. Few things drive a person to risk their life more than deep affection. If the situation continued, it might push the Grand Protector to make a reckless move.
“I’m sorry, I can’t assist with that.”
“An assassin? No.” “Don’t lie!” “It’s just a hobby I picked up.”
With those words, Nam Gong-myeong’s presence vanished. Only the Grand Protector and the injured Grand Protector remained in the hall.
Outside the hall, Nam Gong-myeong hid among the bushes, watching the building. As expected, the Grand Protector didn’t follow him out. Instead, he chose to check on the Grand Protector’s condition.
Nam Gong-myeong finally let out a sigh of relief.
“Couldn’t steal the elixir, but this is the best outcome I could hope for.”
The path had been long, thanks to the martial artists checking on the Grand Protector, but the rewards were greater. If the Grand Protector had consumed the elixir and regained his strength, it would have been disastrous.
“The Grand Protector will have to rest for a while. It’d be better if his energy dissipated or he died.”
Now, all that was left was to find Hong Gyeong-rae and return to Mount Wudang. Nam Gong-myeong headed into the forest, following the distant sounds of people.
“Feels like autumn… this should be the right way.”
He caught a faint scent of blood.
“Blood? Did Hong Gyeong-rae fail to shake off the Left Protector?”
Considering Hong Gyeong-rae had left later, it wouldn’t have been easy to lead people to safety. But Nam Gong-myeong wasn’t worried about Hong Gyeong-rae’s safety. He was a resourceful and skilled individual.
Nam Gong-myeong moved toward the source of the blood scent.
The smell grew stronger. The air was heavy, and the lack of wind in the early morning kept the scent from dispersing. The thick morning fog made it hard to see.
The first body Nam Gong-myeong found belonged to a disciple of the Martial Arts Sect. His face was severely disfigured, as if something had struck him with great force.
Nam Gong-myeong nodded, almost approvingly.
“No point in giving villains a chance to repent… better they just die.”
His friends, especially Tang Mu-jin, who had once had his sword stolen by Nam Gong-myeong, would have found this thought absurd.
But Nam Gong-myeong was unapologetically subjective. In his view, his thefts were always for a good cause.
He stepped over the bodies, counting the dead.
“One, two, three… six in total. Not many. Did most of them escape?”
No, the scent of blood was stronger in another direction.
“Seems like there’s more prey.”
Nam Gong-myeong followed the strongest scent of blood. There, he found the cleanly severed body of a monk from the Precepts Institute.
His expression turned serious.
“This isn’t good.”
Hong Gyeong-rae was a meddlesome fellow. If the monks had been attacked by the Left Protector, chances were high that Hong Gyeong-rae got involved.
Nam Gong-myeong felt a twinge of concern but believed Hong Gyeong-rae would be fine. After all, he hadn’t found Hong Gyeong-rae’s body.
He sensed movement nearby. Gripping his sword, he approached the source. A group of people was carrying a pile of firewood somewhere.
Nam Gong-myeong approached them.
“Excuse me, may I ask you something?”
The sudden appearance of Nam Gong-myeong startled them. A young man, tense, responded.
“Are you… him?” “I’m Nam Gong-myeong, head of the Namgung family.” “The Namgung family!”
The young man and the others visibly relaxed. Nam Gong-myeong asked again.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help with that.”
Listening quietly, Nam Gong-myeong spoke with a bitter edge.
“I really, really dislike jokes like that.”
The young man was taken aback.
“It’s not a joke!” “Can you take responsibility for that claim?” “Responsibility… what do you mean?” “That I can believe your story about Hong Gyeong-rae’s death.”
Even if there was a hint of doubt, the young man, under Nam Gong-myeong’s intense gaze, spoke clearly.
“I saw the demon confirm Hong Gyeong-rae’s death and close his eyes. And this firewood… it’s for his cremation.”
The others nodded in agreement, saying nothing more.
Nam Gong-myeong’s heart sank. The evidence suggested Hong Gyeong-rae was dead. Yet, he clung to a sliver of hope.
“Hong Gyeong-rae mastered the art of feigning death, after all.”
Unlike other martial artists, Hong Geolgae was notorious for his shameless behavior. He might have survived by boldly using forbidden techniques right in front of the Left Guardian.
But there was something else that was troubling.
“Judging by the state of the firewood, it seems the cremation hasn’t taken place. Where is Hong Geolgae’s body?”
A man replied with a voice full of regret.
“Just as we were about to light the pyre, someone claiming to be Hong Geolgae’s master appeared and stopped the ceremony.”
“A master? Who was it?”
“He was a striking figure, tall and broad-shouldered. It was none other than the renowned Mapcheon. He said he came after reading a letter. He mentioned something about his disciple’s punishment being too severe, or maybe it was about a debt… Anyway, he confirmed Hong’s death and mourned deeply. He insisted on handling the funeral himself, so we had no choice but to comply.”
Before the man could finish, Namgung Myung’s hands began to tremble.
Mapcheon was known for his considerable achievements and mastery of various skills. It was unlikely that someone like him would recognize a forbidden technique or openly express grief over a disciple’s death.
Everything felt chaotic. Namgung Myung couldn’t make sense of it all. It seemed like he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.
No, he was sure of one thing. He couldn’t have been so careless as to let his guard down…
Namgung Myung turned his bewildered gaze away and noticed something. A green bamboo staff was propped against the pile of firewood.
He approached the stack and picked up the staff. The solid feel of it seemed to awaken his senses.
“This is…”
“As soon as Hong appeared, he clutched this staff and closed his eyes. In hindsight, I should have given it to his master, but in the chaos, I forgot.”
The green bamboo staff was one of Hong Geolgae’s cherished possessions. Despite his lack of material desires, he treasured this staff dearly. He carried it everywhere—while eating, sleeping, even occasionally while bathing. He never parted with it.
If Hong Geolgae were alive, he wouldn’t have left the staff behind.
To fully execute his Drunken Eight Immortals technique, Hong needed alcohol. For his Staff Technique, he needed the green bamboo staff. But since his destination was the Shaolin Temple, he hadn’t brought any alcohol, nor did he have the staff for his technique.
Without the Drunken Eight Immortals or the Staff Technique, all Hong had left was the Yellow Dragon Eighteen Palms. Even with all his strength, it would be difficult to withstand the Left Guardian. Could he possibly face him with just the Yellow Dragon Eighteen Palms?
Impossible.
The scene played vividly in Namgung Myung’s mind. Hong Geolgae, struggling to protect the monks of the Discipline Hall, using the Yellow Dragon Eighteen Palms against the Left Guardian, ultimately succumbing to a fatal blow. Dying as he coughed up blood.
It seemed unreal. Yet, at the same time, it was a fitting end for someone like Hong Geolgae.
Namgung Myung realized something too late. It wasn’t that he believed Hong Geolgae had survived; he had simply never imagined a scenario where Hong would die.
Now, not only his right hand but also his jaw trembled. His teeth chattered audibly.
A faint, white moan escaped Namgung Myung’s lips.
“Ah, ah…”
Soon, the small moan turned into a wail resembling that of a beast.
“Ah… Aaaah!”
Namgung Myung clutched the green bamboo staff with his right hand and howled like an animal. His voice was so filled with sorrow and grief that the villagers couldn’t bring themselves to approach him, instead watching from a distance.
The villagers bowed their heads, recalling Hong Geolgae’s heroic end. He had taken on the most dangerous role to save not only the monks but also strangers.
As darkness retreated and the sun rose over the mountain ridge, the morning mist nearly vanished, and Namgung Myung’s cries gradually subsided.
He used the green bamboo staff as a cane to stand up. With a deep sigh, as if to expel everything from his chest, he exhaled.
Hoo—
Namgung Myung looked at the spot where Hong Geolgae had fallen. Bloodstains had mixed with dust, forming dark clumps here and there.
He murmured to himself.
“In the end, the only thing I can do is seek revenge.”
Namgung Myung began to trudge toward the southwest, heading for Mount Wudang.