Chapter 48

Chapter 48
## Chapter: 48

### Chapter Title: Setting Out on the Road (1)

—

“Man, this heat is brutal.”

Cheol Woo was sprawled out across a massive stone slab, his outer garment pulled wide to catch a breeze as he unhooked a canteen from his waist.

“Boss.”

He extended the water container toward Sima Geon.

“I’m alright.”

Sima Geon, perched nearby, kept his eyes fixed on the horizon for a moment before speaking.

“Things are running smoothly back there, right?”

“Huh?”

“The shop.”

“What’s there to fret about? Gramps is in charge. Honestly, it seemed to really click with him. Heh heh heh!”

Cheol Woo let out a deep chuckle, envisioning Hahu Gok wielding a butcher’s blade with the same intensity he once reserved for his sword.

It had been exactly five days since Sima Geon and Cheol Woo departed Soheung, having officially left the butcher shop under the supervision of Hahu Gok.

Hahu Gok’s aptitude for the trade was nothing short of remarkable.

He had matched Cheol Woo’s proficiency in a single day, and by the third, he was skillful enough to stand his ground against Sima Geon’s critiques without flinching.

Cheol Woo’s remark about the job suiting the old man’s hidden talents wasn’t just a joke.

“Still, the boss handing the keys to Gramps, and Gramps actually agreeing to stay behind… both of them are unconventional, to say the least. If I were in those shoes…”

Cheol Woo’s rambling grew louder, but he cut himself off instantly when Sima Geon raised a hand for silence.

There was no need for an explanation. Cheol Woo had already detected the sound of footsteps crashing through the forest.

The dense foliage rustled violently, and two individuals stumbled into the clearing.

A man in his mid-twenties appeared, struggling under the weight of an elderly man with hair white as snow. Both were drenched in blood.

The elder appeared to be in critical condition, slumped lifelessly against the younger man’s shoulders.

The youth, emerging from the brush in a state of delirium, froze when he saw Sima Geon and Cheol Woo on the boulder. He faltered, his legs giving out as he collapsed face-first, remaining motionless.

“…”

Taken by surprise, the two travelers exchanged a silent, confused look before slowly standing up.

“Doubtful a wild animal did that.”

Cheol Woo used the tip of his boot to gently nudge the young man’s ribs, clicking his tongue as he observed the numerous lacerations covering his skin.

“One, two… I’ve lost count. He’s been put through the wringer. Though, nothing looks like it hit a vital spot.”

“The old-timer is in worse shape. It looks like they did some emergency first aid, but he’s fading fast.”

Sima Geon’s brow furrowed as he knelt to inspect the elderly man.

“What’s the move?”

“Hydrate the kid first. He’s the one who’s going to have to carry the burden when he wakes up anyway.”

While Cheol Woo tilted the waterskin toward the unconscious youth’s mouth, Sima Geon propped the old man upright and settled into a cross-legged position behind him.

The surface wounds were severe, but the internal damage was far more perilous.

Chaotic qi was tearing through his meridians like a wildfire.

It needed to be quelled immediately.

Sima Geon placed his palm against the old man’s Mingmen acupoint, and a colossal wave of internal energy surged inward.

The wild energy inside the elder fought back against the intrusion. However, like a violent mountain stream being swallowed by the vast ocean, the turbulence was neutralized instantly, silenced by Sima Geon’s overwhelming force.

As Sima Geon’s qi anchored the chaos, a thin, steady thread emerged from the old man’s dantian. It began to guide the scattered energy back into its natural rhythm.

Recognizing that the old man’s body was instinctively resuming its cultivation breathing, Sima Geon slowly retracted his essence and stepped back. Further interference could disrupt the natural healing process.

“How’s he looking?”

Cheol Woo asked.

“Hard to tell. I put out the fire for now, but his foundation is shaken. He should survive the night, though. Hey, you have any golden sore medicine?”

“Are you really asking me?”

Cheol Woo gave a wry grin, spreading his muscular arms wide to show he carried little.

“Just checking. What about the boy?”

“A thousand tiny cuts, but he’ll live. Just passed out from sheer exhaustion. Should I slap him awake?”

“Let him be. He’ll come around on his own. Since we’ve already helped, we might as well show a little grace.”

“Fine. But what about the guys following them? They seem related.”

Cheol Woo gestured toward the treeline.

An irritating presence had been lurking there for some time.

The pursuers were trying to be stealthy, but Sima Geon and Cheol Woo had tracked their positions long ago.

“If they have a problem, they’ll show themselves.”

“And if they do?”

“No idea. I don’t know who’s right or wrong here. However…”

Sima Geon’s expression turned icy.

“This changes the tone of the conversation.”

The moment the words left his lips, a dozen arrows tore through the air from the shadows.

They weren’t aimed at the wounded pair—they were targeted directly at Sima Geon and Cheol Woo.

“How amusing.”

Cheol Woo smirked, swinging a massive arm with deceptive ease.

The majority of the arrows were batted away by the sheer force of his movement; the few that slipped past his reach were plucked out of the air by Sima Geon.

With the surprise attack failing, the pursuers abandoned stealth and charged from all directions.

Cheol Woo let out a sharp whistle as he counted the men encircling them.

Exactly twelve.

They varied in age, but every single one of them radiated a sharp, martial aura.

“Who the hell are you people?”

Cheol Woo asked with an arrogant tilt of his head.

There was no verbal response—only a piercing sword thrust aimed at his chest.

“Ha! You’ve got a death wish?”

His grin widening, Cheol Woo met the incoming blade with his bare fist.

The attackers and their companions froze in shock as the metal shattered upon impact, the sword reduced to shards.

“F-flee!”

A panicked voice cried out. But Cheol Woo’s counter was already in motion.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

A series of heavy impacts echoed as the attackers were sent flying backward simultaneously.

The archers in the rear released a fresh volley to cover their retreat.

Cheol Woo didn’t bother to turn around, completely unconcerned.

Sima Geon flicked the arrow he held in his hand.

It shot forth like a bolt of lightning, intercepting and knocking every incoming projectile out of the sky.

The archer at the back groaned, reaching for another shaft—until the most senior member of the group raised a hand, signaling a halt.

Ok Sayu, having stopped his comrades’ assault, stared intensely at Cheol Woo and Sima Geon.

Despite being surrounded, the two men were perfectly composed. Their display of power had explained why.

His juniors who had engaged Cheol Woo were now broken on the ground. They were still breathing—only because of their opponent’s restraint, not their own luck. And the ease with which the other man handled the arrows? It was a level of skill he couldn’t fathom.

‘I’ve made a grave error.’

Ok Sayu cursed his own impulsiveness, having assumed these two were associates of the assassins they were hunting.

Even a cursory glance at their demeanor suggested they were far from ordinary.

In a fight, there was zero chance of victory.

“So, are you just going to stand there? Come forward and speak your piece.”

Cheol Woo cracked his neck, the sound echoing in the silence.

“It appears we have made a mistake.”

Ok Sayu offered a respectful bow of apology.

“You shoot first and call it a mistake because you don’t like the vibe? You guys live a pretty pampered life, don’t you?”

Cheol Woo’s mocking tone made Ok Sayu’s expression darken further.

“Keep your mouths shut!”

“Senior Brother! Why are you bowing to them?”

His confused juniors began to grumble, but the cold realization of their situation only made Ok Sayu more resolute. The emotionless stare from Sima Geon made the hair on his neck stand up.

Ignoring his men, Ok Sayu turned with formal courtesy toward the unconscious youth and the old man.

“We have spent days pursuing the assassins who ambushed our teacher. Our urgency clouded our judgment. We ask for your pardon.”

At the mention of “assassins,” Cheol Woo’s eyes sparkled, and he shot a look at Sima Geon.

“I knew they had that scent.”

“What gave it away?”

“Just a feeling.”

Cheol Woo looked at the unconscious youth with a newfound sense of interest.

[Reminds me of how people used to look at us when we were kids.]

[Yeah, a similar aura. I get a familiar feeling from the old man, too.]

As they communicated through silent transmission, their lack of hostility toward the fugitives made Ok Sayu’s heart sink.

Assassins were the common enemy of the martial world. He had identified them as such, expecting these powerful men to step aside or assist—instead, they seemed almost sympathetic. This was a disaster.

“If you aren’t with them, then step aside. Unless you wish to be labeled public enemies.”

As Ok Sayu tried to find a peaceful way out, a sudden shout made him turn pale.

His third junior, Kang Sul—the most talented but also the most hot-headed of the lot—had barked the threat before Ok Sayu could intervene.

“Be quiet.”

Ok Sayu hissed, but the atmosphere had already turned frigid.

“Public enemies, is it?”

Cheol Woo grinned with predatory intent, his eyes scanning the group.

“That’s quite a title. I imagine it’s not handed out to just anyone. I suppose your master must be a big deal if assassins are after him.”

“Of course he is. The Eight Winds Sword…”

“I told you to shut up!”

Ok Sayu cut Kang Sul off with a freezing glare.

“S…”

Kang Sul swallowed his words, terrified by his senior’s rare display of fury.

“Please, forgive us. Our master’s life hangs by a thread—everyone is on edge.”

“Not my concern.”

Cheol Woo snorted, picking at his ear before letting out a sharp whistle.

“I thought ‘public enemies’ would be more formidable, but if they were taken down by mere assassins, they can’t be all that impressive.”

Ok Sayu’s face contorted in pain. If he was struggling to keep his cool, the others were reaching their breaking point.

Their legendary master had been insulted.

Their honor, which they valued more than their lives, was being trampled in the dirt.

Reason vanished, replaced by a blinding, white-hot rage.

“Die!”

Kang Sul charged first, his sword cutting a path through the air.

Just as the blade was about to hit Cheol Woo’s mocking face, it stopped dead. His fellow disciples froze in their tracks. Their eyes drifted to the limp body of Kang Sul—and to Sima Geon, who was now holding the man by the scruff of his neck.

‘When did he move…’

Ok Sayu, who hadn’t taken his eyes off Sima Geon even as Kang Sul attacked, looked as if he had seen a ghost.

“Boss, why’d you stop it?”

Cheol Woo complained, sounding genuinely disappointed that he didn’t get to finish the fight.

“That’s enough. They say their teacher is dying. You can’t blame them for losing their heads.”

“Should I get rid of them?”

“No.”

Sima Geon pivoted, tossing Kang Sul back toward Ok Sayu.

“My patience ends here. If you have a grudge, settle it after we’ve moved on. Now, leave.”

“They are killers who treat human life like garbage! Why are you protecting them?”

Jung Su, the bearded archer standing next to Ok Sayu, shouted in frustration.

Sima Geon glanced at the man’s bow, a faint, mocking smile touching his lips.

“That’s rich coming from you. You fired arrows without even confirming who we were. If we were just normal travelers, we’d be dead for no reason. You threw away your moral high ground the moment you loosed those strings.”

“Th-That’s…”

“I’ve heard it’s bad luck to abandon a pup that wanders into your yard. Even if it’s a mutt. So, get lost.”

Jung Su went quiet, unable to find a retort. Ok Sayu, his face grim, finally spoke.

“How far do we need to go?”

“Until I can no longer feel your presence.”

“Understood.”

Ok Sayu nodded curtly, signaling for his group to retreat. A few disciples scowled, but they obeyed his authoritative look.

As they gathered their wounded and the unconscious Kang Sul, Ok Sayu paused, then asked.

“May I know your names?”

“Do you have a death wish?”

Ok Sayu flinched at the absolute lack of emotion in the voice. He bit his lip and slowly led his men away.

Once they had completely cleared the area, Sima Geon gave a small nod. Cheol Woo immediately kicked the “unconscious” youth in the side.

“How long are you going to keep pretending? I know you’re awake. Stand up.”

The young man scrambled to his feet before Cheol Woo even finished the sentence.

“Assassins? Don’t bother. I don’t care to hear your life story.”

Sima Geon dismissed the youth’s frantic attempt to explain, continuing.

“You heard the conversation. You know what the situation is.”

“Yes.”

“Our involvement ends here.”

“I will never forget the mercy you have shown us.”

The youth bowed his head low to Sima Geon.

“Sure. Gramps should be waking up soon. You take it from here.”

The youth’s eyes immediately darted to the old man.

The elder—Heukam, a high-ranking assassin of the Blood Forest—remained in a trance, his internal energy still circulating through his healed meridians.