Chapter 385

Chapter 385
## Chapter 385. The Surprise Attack (3)

—

*Drip— drip—*

An eerie quiet blanketed the courtyard, broken only by the rhythmic thud of falling blood. The brilliant golden glow that had just illuminated the area like high noon now felt like a distant illusion; with the moon itself obscured, everything was plunged into an oppressive blackness.

*Plop.*

It seemed impossible for anything to survive in a pool choked with nothing but mire, yet a lone goldfish poked its nose above the surface, took stock of the intruder, and submerged once more. Exhaling softly into the heavy stillness, I directed my gaze downward toward the severed lower limbs of Bang-sa-won. He had hacked off his own legs with a blade just to close the distance between us. Encountering such fanatical resolve from these adversaries always left me conflicted about the true nature of the enemy.

At its core, martial arts served as an instrument for survival. Cultivating greater prowess was meant to prolong one’s existence, much like accumulating wealth or securing authority. Naturally, the more powerful a martial artist became, the fiercer their instinct to survive should be.

Yet these individuals defied that logic. For them, supreme martial ability and profound internal energy were merely expendable resources meant for a higher purpose, entirely divorced from personal survival. They threw their lives away as if tossing logs into a blazing furnace, watching them turn to ash without a second thought. As though it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

“*Phew*.”

Releasing a heavy breath, I unleashed a Great Sun Palm (*Dae-yang-jang*) to blast a small crater into the earth. I then collected the gruesome remains of what used to be Bang-sa-won and placed them inside. After hastily kicking dirt over the spot to hide the evidence, I surveyed the area. Amid the shards of shattered clay vessels, one undamaged bottle of wine caught my eye. Shaking it revealed a decent amount of spirits left inside. Logically, imbibing was a terrible idea when a fresh threat could arrive at any moment, but…

“……Would they even bother showing up after such a massive ruckus?”

The hesitation was brief; the impulse took over. A wave of revulsion washed over me, leaving me desperate to purge the grim thoughts from my mind by any means necessary.

“*Kuuu*.”

The liquid burned with an agonizing bitterness. It possessed no refined aroma whatsoever; it was simply a crude, harsh fluid meant for nothing but dulling the senses. Whether this was a reflection of Bang-sa-won’s poverty or a personal preference for cheap firewater, I couldn’t say, but even during my enlistment in the *So-jeong-dae*, I had never tasted a spirit quite this foul.

“…….”

I paused, considering whether to dump the rest onto the ground, but ultimately tilted my head back and drained the bottle. To wash down the foul taste, I directed a string of silent curses at the Ghost Five freak who had assumed Bang-sa-won’s identity.

“Chugging such toxic garbage, it’s a miracle he could even think straight. What an absolute clown.”

Only three days remained until Zhuge-so-myeong’s scheduled assassination. Out of the Ghost Five, I had managed to eliminate only two. In this current timeline where Je-geum-hak was no longer in play, how would those monsters adapt? I searched my memories for a figure among the Seven Demon Lords capable of stepping into Je-geum-hak’s role, but no immediate candidate emerged.

Je-geum-hak had been uniquely suited to infiltrate and target Zhuge-so-myeong because his personal demonic Qi could be completely suppressed, leaving no trace on the surface. The remaining Demon Lords, whose sinister energies inevitably leaked out through one avenue or another, could never pull off a stealthy infiltration the way Je-geum-hak had. This implied they were forced to proceed with the assassination utilizing only the capabilities of the Ghost Five…

With two of their roster already neutralized, could the remaining three successfully execute the plot? Or would they read the writing on the wall and retreat? My eyes drifted back to the patch of earth that had turned a grim, dark hue from the spilled blood.

“…….”

Indulging in a brief moment of wishful thinking, I ultimately shook my head. Those relentless zealots wouldn’t abandon their objective over a setback like this. If anything, it would only drive them to concoct an even more venomous strategy.

The path ahead of me was unmistakable. Every heartbeat mattered; moving a fraction of a second faster was the only way to safeguard Zhuge-so-myeong from his fate. Just as I resolved to break out of my stillness and stand up—

*Prickle.*

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up instantly, and my eyes snapped toward the front entranceway.

*Creeeeak—*

“……!”

A presence that had no business being here suddenly manifested. It was the exact same sensation I had encountered not long ago within the Silent Forest (*Muk-rim*). An overwhelmingly suffocating, foul aura began to constrict the air.

*Step, step, step.*

A silhouette advanced with measured paces, deliberately letting its footfalls ring out despite possessing the skill to move soundlessly. The figure strolled casually, casting an idle eye over the ruined state of the courtyard. Moments later, the moon drifted out from behind its shroud of clouds, casting its pale light directly upon a masked intruder.

Surveying the destruction, the masked figure locked eyes with me and let out a soft, mocking laugh.

“Weren’t you waiting for my arrival?”

The golden rule of any assassination was absolute stealth. Slipping in unnoticed, striking without a sound, and vanishing before anyone realized a crime had occurred. Because of this, I had reasoned that if the rest of the Ghost Five caught wind of the clash at Choyeol Manor, they would immediately abort and stay clear.

Seeking to rattle the intruder’s composure, I flung out a piece of information that had utterly paralyzed the previous two zealots.

“This marks the very first time I’ve heard one of the Ghost Five actually speak.”

Gripping the hilt of my weapon tightly, I began channeling the internal energy required for the Third Formula of the White Moon Heavenly-Dominance (*Baek-wol-je-cheon-sam-sik*), fully prepared to cleave him in two the instant he faltered.

Yet, the intruder didn’t betray a single opening. Instead, he replied with an eerie calmness, as though the revelation was old news.

“So you genuinely possessed knowledge regarding our group.”

“……!”

“The Demon Brain (*Ma-noe*) foresaw this. He explicitly stated that you would be aware of our presence.”

Why was the Demon Brain suddenly being brought into this? And how could he possibly deduce that I knew about them?

“Granted, it was quite a twist that you managed to put an end to I-ryeong…… or rather, Bang-sa-won.”

As I held my tongue, the masked man threw out another query.

“Are you a hidden bastard child of the Flying Demon Clan (*Bi-ma-jong*)? Or merely a rogue element who fled their ranks?”

A scathing retort rose in my throat, but I forced myself to remain silent.

“Word reached us that you played a pivotal role in wiping out the Blood Demon Clan (*Hyeol-ma-jong*). If that holds true, does it mean you carry the bloodline of the Flying Demon Clan?”

The exact mechanics eluded me, but it was clear that both this assassin and the Demon Brain had drawn a completely warped conclusion about my origins. Come to think of it, that brutal bastard Naeng-ok-hwan had spouted something along those lines in the past… Despite my best efforts to suppress information, intelligence regarding my actions had somehow leaked back to the Demon Cult.

Faced with this, should I set the record straight and declare myself a martial artist of the White Path who loathed their very existence? Or would it be savvier to string them along, extracting secrets while keeping them thoroughly bewildered?

The tactical calculation took only a fraction of a second.

“Does any of that matter at this point?”

I resolved to exploit the adversary’s misconceptions for everything they were worth.

“……So it is true. You really are a survivor of the fallen Flying Demon Clan?”

Of all the things they could have imagined, they pinned me as the progeny of a shattered demonic lineage.

“I already asked you. What relevance does that have now?”

*Slight—*

Drawing the Red Light Sword, I unleashed a wave of raw, unadulterated killing intent.

*Aaaaaaaaah.*

A ghostly, unidentifiable wail echoed through the air. Across the silent estate, the ominous crimson glow radiating from the Red Light Sword cast dreadful shadows over the surroundings. Yet, the intruder merely rubbed his chin in a relaxed manner, completely unbothered by the display.

“Have you been masking your true identity by masquerading as a student of the Orthodox factions all this time? And you finally emerged to seek vengeance because the Divine Cult made its return?”

Weighing my options, I chose to keep my narrative simple. After all, the Flying Demon Clan and the Tae-eul Sect shared the exact same grievance: both had been utterly destroyed by the machinations of the Demon Cult.

“I’ve had quite enough of you demonic degenerates. My only desire is to watch every last one of you burn to ash.”

“Hmm…… is that how it is? Do you care nothing for the remnants of the Flying Demon Clan who still draw breath?”

“What nonsense are you spouting?”

“You clearly lack insight regarding the inner workings of the Cult. A century and a half has passed since the Flying Demon Clan has been reduced to merely preserving its bloodline in secret.”

The assassin’s gaze locked onto mine, entirely devoid of warmth.

“The Demon Brain passed down word that since the treachery of the Blood Demon Clan has been dealt with, he intends to restore the Flying Demon Clan to its former glory this time around.”

Piecing together his statements, it appeared the Flying Demon Clan had been wiped out by the Blood Demon Clan in the past. These zealots had concluded that I was a fugitive descendant of that fallen faction. Given that the Blood Cult consisted of the remnants of the Blood Demon Clan, the historical puzzle pieces fit together perfectly.

I let out a deliberate, mocking sneer.

“Why on earth should I place my trust in a faction that betrayed us once before?”

The masked man tilted his head in mild amusement.

“How peculiar. Have you forgotten that defying the Divine Cult yields nothing but an early grave?”

His words didn’t quite make sense to me. How did he intend to resurrect a long-dead demonic faction?

“What exactly are you claiming will be restored to its original state?”

“Presumably everything that was stripped from you, and then some.”

I pushed further, hoping to pry loose some future events I wasn’t privy to, but he offered no further revelations. Instead, the man evaluated me with a sharp, calculating look.

“Are you inclined to return to the fold of the Cult?”

Believing I had sufficiently strung him along to disarm his immediate suspicions, I pressed for the critical information I required.

“If that’s the case…… should I simply fall in line behind you right now?”

“Hmm……”

“Or perhaps you require an extra hand to guarantee the success of this operation?”

“Are you implying you know the nature of our assignment?”

The details were permanently etched into my mind. The operation planned by Je-geum-hak in my previous existence carried a highly specific codename: ‘Turtle Hunting.’ The moment I uttered the phrase—

“*Hahaha!*”

The assassin erupted into a sudden, frantic fit of laughter. What brought this on…? His erratic behavior caused my eyebrows to knit together in deep annoyance.

“Ah, forgive me. It is simply too staggering and brilliant. The Demon Brain truly operates on another level……”

He wiped at the corner of his eye, as if the sheer hilarity of the moment had brought him to tears. Then, his tone shifted dramatically into an icy, spine-chilling register.

“The Demon Brain left explicit instructions. He warned that if you made an offer to assist and inquired about the specifics of the assignment……”

The man’s eyes gleamed with a psychopathic fervor.

“Execute him on the spot.”

His words cut through the air like a frozen blade. As I stood frozen in silence, a disdainful chuckle escaped his lips.

“Is it not a magnificent twist? Child of the fallen Flying Demon.”

The moment those words left his mouth—

*Snap— snap— snap— snap—*

Dark silhouettes began dropping onto the grounds of the estate from every direction. The sudden turn of events left me disoriented, and a flash of anxiety hit me regarding Dang-seo-hui, whom I had dispatched to watch over Zhuge-so-myeong. I worried that in my frantic attempt to alter the timeline, I had inadvertently sent an innocent soul to her doom.

‘Though, that logic certainly doesn’t apply to that bastard Yong-so-ah.’

Fixing my gaze on the masked leader, I curled my finger in a taunting gesture.

“If we’re going to dance, let’s get this over with quickly. I have someone I need to check on.”

The private quarters of the Chief Strategist were situated a short distance from the Bureau of Infinite Information (*Mantong-bu*). The structure itself was far from a grand estate; given that the department frequently required round-the-clock labor, a modest space to snatch a few moments of rest was essential. Initially, the Chief Strategist had intended to make use of the shared barracks designated for the scholars of the Murim Alliance.

However…

“A-ah, no…… absolutely not, such a place is far too meager to accommodate the Chief Strategist.”

“Hahaha……. Precisely! It would be incredibly restrictive……”

The ones truly terrified by the prospect were the scholars themselves. Spending their entire shifts under the intense scrutiny of their superiors was draining enough; they flatly refused to share their sleeping quarters with the ultimate authority figure of the alliance. Pooling their efforts, the scholars quickly drew up plans for a detached pavilion specifically for the Chief Strategist’s rest. Operating with unprecedented bureaucratic speed, they successfully erected a modest pavilion complete with a small pond right next to the *Mantong-bu*.

Standing directly before that pond, Yong-so-ah observed the structure with an unreadable expression. From within the walls, an intense, ongoing argument was echoing out.

“What do you think you are doing! Leave this instant!”

Zhuge-so-myeong, a man legendary for maintaining his composure under pressure, was practically roaring. Yet his tiny adversary, whose diminutive stature was clearly outlined against the flickering candlelight through the window, shot back with absolute defiance.

“Grandfather explicitly told me that I possess a talent for replicating the exact techniques of anyone who excels at what they do……-yo.”

“I am going to personally thrash that insufferable old dotard, the Poison King, the next time I see him!”

“The Chief Strategist……-nim should simply carry on with your business exactly as you always do……-yo.”

“…….”

Watching the silhouette of Zhuge-so-myeong tremble violently against the candlelit screen, Yong-so-ah tilted his head in thought.

‘Could it be the wind shaking the frame? No, that makes little sense.’

A moment later, the doors violently burst outward, and a small figure clad in a bright turquoise gown was forcefully ejected—or rather, launched—from the pavilion. The descending figure, seemingly bound for a painful crash, executed a bizarre twist in mid-air to stabilize herself, sliding gracefully across the dirt upon landing.

*Slide—*

Immediately following her exit, a harsh reprimand boomed from inside the room.

“Cross this threshold one more time, and I will personally see to it that you are permanently barred from entering the *Mantong-bu*, mark my words!!”

*Slam!*

The door rattled violently on its hinges as it was thrown shut. Dang-seo-hui, having just pulled off a flawless recovery, stared back at the now-silent pavilion with a crestfallen expression.

“Hmm…… at this rate, achieving the status of a legendary warrior is going to be impossible……”

Yong-so-ah, who had witnessed the entire theatrical display from start to finish, finally spoke up.

“……What drives you to behave in such a manner? The Chief Strategist is not an amusement for your entertainment.”

Hearing his voice, Dang-seo-hui directed her gaze upward toward him. She quickly turned away, wandering over to the edge of the water to crouch down. With her cheeks puffed out in a pout, she snatched up a slender twig and began twirling it through the water. After a tense pause, she murmured a soft question.

“Then what brings Yong-so-ah…… to this location?”

Though the sharp counter-question could have easily offended him, Yong-so-ah provided a straightforward reply.

“He represents an unpredictable variable. His volatile strategies introduce an element of future instability.”

As Dang-seo-hui manipulated the stick with her peculiar rhythm, the fish below began to gather in a swirling pattern. Trailing the tip of the twig, a solitary goldfish breached the surface, opening and closing its mouth with a dazed expression. Observing the display, Yong-so-ah delivered a sharp flick of his finger through the air. The sudden force caused the fish resting near the twig to lose its balance and plunge back down.

*Splash—*

The goldfish disappeared beneath the ripples once more. Dang-seo-hui shot a sharp glare at Yong-so-ah. In response, Yong-so-ah merely maintained his cold, stoic expression.

“Even the smallest beast possesses a spark of life. Tormenting it serves no virtuous purpose.”

“…….”

Dang-seo-hui remained in her crouched position, her eyes fixed on the water. From behind her petite frame, a question laced with genuine curiosity drifted over.

“Why do you spend your energy on such pointless endeavors?”

Pointless endeavors. Dang-seo-hui tightened her grip on the small branch.

“I won’t deny that Junior Jin represents an unpredictable factor.”

Refusing to back down, she resumed stirring the depths of the pond.

“Yet, Junior Jin’s maneuvers have consistently yielded brilliant outcomes that defied all conventional expectations.”

“…….”

Before long, Dang-seo-hui’s hand went still, and she spoke in a voice that was quiet yet unyielding.

“Unpredictability inherently breeds imperfection.”

“…….”

Dang-seo-hui raised her eyes to lock onto Yong-so-ah.

“Can you claim absolute certainty?”

Yong-so-ah met her direct gaze without flinching.

“I do not operate on uncertainty.”

“And were you absolutely certain back at the Maryeong Plateau, during the Jeong-si incident, and within the depths of the Silent Forest?”

Certainty…… absolute conviction. Mulling over Dang-seo-hui’s words, Yong-so-ah studied her silently before finally offering an answer.

“Those specific instances were likewise devoid of ‘uncertainty.’”

“I will grant you that. However, the reality remains that Jin-so-un managed to engineer a far superior resolution.”

“…….”

Continuing to disrupt the surface of the pond, Dang-seo-hui reached down to snatch up a stone roughly the size of her fist, tossing it into the air and striking it with her branch. The moment the wood connected with the flying stone, a web of fractures rippled through the rock, instantly reducing it to a handful of tiny gravel pieces that rained back down precisely into her open palm.

*Rattle, rattle.*

Manipulating the tiny fragments between her fingers like a toddler captivated by a newfound plaything, a gentle grin spread across her face.

“Besides…… spending time around Junior Jin is genuinely entertaining.”

“Does this all boil down to mere amusement for you?”

Dang-seo-hui shook her head in dissent.

“I happen to believe that the actions Junior Jin takes are far from pointless……”

Mid-sentence, Dang-seo-hui’s focus abruptly snapped toward a patch of deep shadow nearby. A beat later, Yong-so-ah shifted his attention to the exact same spot. He had picked up on the very same anomaly that she had detected.

“……An incredibly rare and foul manifestation of energy.”

*Rattle, rattle.*

The stone fragments dancing within Dang-seo-hui’s palm were ground finer and finer under her pressure.

“To penetrate this deeply into our territory…… these are exceptionally dangerous individuals.”

“I agree.”

“Do you likewise agree that Junior Jin’s instincts were entirely accurate?”

“…….]”

Despite the looming crisis, Dang-seo-hui kept her eyes trained on Yong-so-ah, but he refused to turn his head toward her. Sensing the approaching wave of malevolent and dark energy, Dang-seo-hui stood up straight and shifted into a combat-ready stance. Even as she prepared for battle, she managed to fire off one parting shot.

“Hiding from the truth is beneath someone of your stature, Yong-so-ah.”

Yong-so-ah offered no reply.