Episode 64: The Killing Veil

“Pack your things.”

“Are we leaving right now?”

“Yes.”

Gwi-ui was someone who never cared about others’ opinions. Yet, even he had no intention of staying in Jaewon to treat Baek Hyang-a while being near Baek Chuseo.

Of course, he wanted to see the treatment through to the end. But there was one problem: he feared he might unconsciously draw his sword and behead Baek Chuseo.

Baek Hyang-a had already survived the brink of death. All that remained was for her to take medicine for a month or two and slowly recuperate to manage her condition. There was no issue in leaving the follow-up care to Seop, the physician.

Dang Mujin and Gwi-ui placed the unconscious Baek father and daughter in the main hall of the Jaewon Baek family and left instructions for the medicine with Seop.

In the dark hours before dawn, the three of them departed from Jaewon.

Baek Chuseo awoke later than usual.

Feeling uncomfortable, he looked around and saw Baek Hyang-a lying beside him. The events of the previous night came rushing back.

His heart pounded in his temples, and his chest felt constricted.

Baek Chuseo let out a deep sigh and instinctively tried to regulate his breathing, but stopped. He feared he might fall into a state of inner turmoil.

Instead, he approached the sleeping Baek Hyang-a. It wasn’t out of any inappropriate desire. To be precise, he had never harbored such feelings for her. He simply wanted to check on her condition as a father and the head of the Jaewon Baek family.

He placed his hand gently on her abdomen and cautiously channeled his internal energy.

His control wasn’t as precise as Gwi-ui or Dang Mujin’s, but he could gauge the amount of energy someone possessed.

“The negative energy has weakened.”

At the same time, he sensed a vast amount of energy wandering within her, unable to settle in her core.

The amount was astonishing, almost comparable to his own, accumulated over decades of training.

If she could slowly dissolve the remaining negative energy and gather it in her core, the results would be significant. With steady effort, great achievements were certain.

Baek Chuseo felt a slight sense of loss, but it was overshadowed by a profound joy.

Though it might not reach the fame of the Sword King in the martial world, if Baek Hyang-a became a respectable martial artist, the Jaewon Baek family could rise to a prominent position.

Everything had turned out well. Baek Chuseo thought so and felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

“Mmm…”

At that moment, Baek Hyang-a let out a small groan, indicating she was waking up.

She slowly sat up, her eyes half-open, and looked around. Then she spotted Baek Chuseo.

He sat there, looking much the same as always. But for a brief moment, Baek Hyang-a’s eyes trembled, filled with clear aversion and fear.

Her expression quickly returned to normal, but Baek Chuseo knew. Baek Hyang-a was aware of everything that had happened.

“You’re awake?”

”…Yes. It seems your condition has improved, which is good.”

Baek Chuseo spoke with feigned calmness. Yet, his chest felt tight again, and his pulse raced even more than before.

He couldn’t bear to meet his daughter’s gaze. Desperately trying to steady his breathing, he feigned composure and left the room.

He thought he heard Baek Hyang-a say something behind him, but he couldn’t make it out.

Baek Chuseo walked out of the Jaewon Baek family’s gate. He kept walking until he reached a place where no one would see or follow him. The memory of Baek Hyang-a’s look of rejection resurfaced.

His heart churned with anxiety and fear.

He couldn’t be sure that Yi Gyun, the swordsman, would keep his mouth shut. Even if he did, the events wouldn’t simply disappear. At the very least, Baek Hyang-a would remember.

Every time she looked at Baek Chuseo, she would recall the horrific decisions he made. Their relationship could never return to what it once was. The once difficult but harmonious father-daughter bond was irreparably broken.

Perhaps because of this, Baek Chuseo finally managed to separate his thoughts about himself and Baek Hyang-a, and himself and the Jaewon Baek family.

Even if Baek Hyang-a honed her martial skills and successfully elevated the Jaewon Baek family, it wouldn’t be the result of Baek Chuseo’s efforts.

He remained incompetent, having achieved nothing, a selfish and despicable father.

Baek Chuseo regretted it all too late.

If only he had remained quietly incompetent, as he always had.

Or if he had succeeded in his plans without anyone finding out. Baek Hyang-a might have suffered, but she would have kept the secret.

Baek Chuseo knelt down, pressing his hands to the ground, gasping for breath.

Except for the endless resentment towards Yi Gyun, who had ruined everything, Baek Chuseo’s mind gradually found a semblance of peace.

He didn’t realize that this unfamiliar peace was the first step into a dangerous state of mind.

Baek Chuseo stood up and headed east of Jaewon.

Towards a nondescript tavern, Jowolru.

When he arrived at Jowolru, its doors were closed. It was too early for business.

But Baek Chuseo wasn’t disappointed. He entered a small storage room behind Jowolru.

Inside, there was a secret passage leading to a hidden space within Jowolru. This space was a hideout managed by the Killing Veil of Jaewon.

Ordinary people wouldn’t even know such a place existed, but someone like Baek Chuseo, who had lived in the area for a long time, inevitably learned how to contact the underworld.

In the room at the end of the storage, a man in black stared at Baek Chuseo.

Baek Chuseo only vaguely guessed that the man was associated with the Killing Veil. The branch leader, however, recognized Baek Chuseo immediately.

“Isn’t it the esteemed head of the Baek family? What brings you to the dark underworld?”

“Who are you?”

“You may call me the branch leader.”

Despite the unexpected visit from a righteous martial artist, the branch leader’s voice was calm.

There were plenty of martial artists who pretended to be righteous while secretly hiring assassins.

“I have someone I want dead.”

“Who is it?”

Gwi-ui Lee Chung. Baek Chuseo recalled the last words Yi Gyun had spoken to him.

—A dream doesn’t have to be grand to be excessive. If your abilities are lacking, even an ordinary dream can be too much.

It was a statement that negated Baek Chuseo’s entire life and efforts.

The most painful and horrific words he had ever heard, as if they were crushing his very soul. It would have been less painful to lose an arm.

“About ten or fifteen days ago, a physician named Yi Gyun came to Jaewon. He’s just over fifty, with graying hair.”

Baek Chuseo briefly recalled the two people who had been with Yi Gyun. But their faces were blurry, and they seemed like mere subordinates or errand runners.

Even thinking about them didn’t stir any murderous intent.

Baek Chuseo felt satisfied. Yes, the real enemy was Yi Gyun. He could afford to be magnanimous towards the lackeys. After all, he was a fair and generous martial artist.

However, the branch leader seemed unimpressed. Killing a mere physician wouldn’t earn much.

“If it’s just a physician, there’s no need to involve the Killing Veil.”

Baek Chuseo looked at the branch leader with cold eyes.

“He’s not an ordinary physician. That’s just a cover. He’s a martial artist, skilled enough to match me.”

In truth, he had been subdued after a few exchanges, but Baek Chuseo didn’t want to admit that to the filthy underworld.

Conversely, the branch leader thought it was a decent job.

‘If Baek Chuseo wasn’t killed or injured, the opponent’s skills must be on par with his.’

There was no need for the branch leader to get involved personally. Gathering the branch’s members for an ambush would suffice.

Moreover, the fact that the client rated the opponent so highly was appealing. It meant he wouldn’t haggle over the price.

“Understood. How will you handle the payment?”

Baek Chuseo took out a gold nugget slightly larger than his thumb and tossed it to the branch leader.

It was more than enough for the job, but Baek Chuseo promised even more.

“Consider it a down payment. I’ll pay the rest once the job is done.”

The gold was not a concern. As long as he could see Yi Gyun’s severed head, he would pay any price.

The branch leader smiled contentedly.

“Understood. I’ll have results for you within three days.”

Not long ago, Gwi-ui had traveled to the Sima family in Luoyang in just two days.

But that was when he moved alone, using his advanced movement techniques.

Dang Mujin’s skills weren’t yet on par with Gwi-ui’s, and to make matters worse, they had Dan Seol-young, who knew nothing of martial arts, with them. The three of them trudged towards Luoyang.

“Maybe when we have some time, I should teach you some movement techniques.”

“Really?”

Listening to Dang Mujin and Dan Seol-young’s conversation, Gwi-ui clicked his tongue.

“Don’t bother. What can someone with shallow understanding teach?”

“It’s better than knowing nothing.”

“You’re not wrong.”

In the end, they didn’t reach Luoyang before nightfall.

To make matters worse, there were no villages between Luoyang and Jaewon where they could stay, so they had no choice but to camp out for the night.

If it had been just him and Hong Geolgae, they would have simply thrown a ragged mat on the ground and sprawled out. But Dan Seolyeong was more meticulous and proactive.

“If we’re going to rest, let’s do it over there. The ground’s softer, and there should be fewer bugs.”

“How do you know that?”

“There are a lot of dragonflies. Where there are dragonflies, there aren’t mosquitoes or other pests.”

It wasn’t far, but as Dan Seolyeong had predicted, the spot was free of annoying insects.

She then cleared away the small stones and spread some leaves on the ground. It didn’t seem like a chore to her; she was just naturally diligent.

And that wasn’t all. Climbing a tree, she pulled down some branches and quickly fashioned a simple roof. It wasn’t the most elegant structure, but it would keep the dew off for the night.

Goeui glanced at Dang Mujin with a smirk. “You know, it just occurred to me that if I’d met Dan Seolyeong instead of you or Hong Geolgae back in Seongdo or Jueul Village, things might have been better.”

“Funny you should say that. I was just thinking it would’ve been nice if you’d taught me some of those skills.”

The three of them lay under the makeshift roof, gazing at the stars peeking through the branches.

Goeui closed his eyes and began his meditation, practicing the art of lying down while cultivating energy. It was called Wagogong.

Dang Mujin wished he could meditate so comfortably, but Wagogong was harder than it looked. To make matters worse, Goeui had no intention of teaching it to him. The reason was simple: it was disrespectful to lie down and cultivate energy in front of one’s elders.

Beside him, Dan Seolyeong busied herself with twigs and leaves, crafting small trinkets. Dang Mujin watched her nimble fingers at work.

He, too, made things in his spare time, but their creations were worlds apart. Dang Mujin focused on intricate, static objects—carving wooden figures or etching landscapes onto wooden panels.

Dan Seolyeong, on the other hand, was fascinated by things that moved. She made tiny bows that shot small twigs and even toys that spun when released. Of course, nothing moved for long—just a few breaths at most. But creating something that moved on its own was no simple feat.

Watching Dang Mujin carve a wooden figure, Dan Seolyeong spoke up. “If I had your skills, I’d make all sorts of things.”

“Like what?”

“Too many to count. Endless possibilities.”

“How about we split the work like when we made the wooden ship? You come up with ideas, and I’ll make them.”

“Deal!”

As they chatted, Goeui opened his eyes and sat up. “We’ve got company.”

“Company?”

“Guests in dark clothes. Dan Seolyeong, up the tree.”

Without arguing that she could fight too, Dan Seolyeong swiftly climbed a tree and hid, smart enough not to let pride get in the way.

Soon, six figures in black appeared. Unlike the last time they encountered such people, there was no exchange of words. Just the sound of heavy breathing through their masks.

The black-clad figures didn’t seem pleased with the situation either. Goeui drew his sword and spoke. “What, did you think no one would notice you sneaking around in the dark dressed like that?”

No answer came.

Dang Mujin braced himself, expecting them to charge with drawn swords. That’s how all his previous fights had gone.

But the black-clad figures didn’t approach. Instead, they simultaneously hurled poisoned daggers at Dang Mujin and Goeui.