Chapter 148

Chapter 148
**Chapter 148**
**Chapter Title: The Escape and the Traitor**

“Boom!”

Baek Yang-hui was forced to deflect a sudden ambush instead of striking down Hyungsan Eumhyeol with his blade.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

He barely warded off the assault, yet his insides roiled violently, sending a rush of blood surging up his throat. Baek Yang-hui fixed his gaze on the peak experts surging forward with ferocious might and spat a single word thick with regret.

“Ah, you despicable cur.”

So he would not draw upon his own qi, but sacrifice his own men instead.

The four peak experts serving as his guards had detonated their qi reserves—an act more than powerful enough to compel Hyungsan Eumhyeol to beat a hasty retreat.

“Yang-hui, I am so sorry!”

A-du raced over in alarm, unable to break free from the foes he held at bay to intervene, but Hyungsan Eumhyeol was already fleeing for his life.

To charge into the black faction’s ranks now in pursuit would be nothing short of suicide.

“It is all right. He threw four peak experts away just to save his own skin—what could we possibly have done?”

Next time, he would cast a tighter net and hunt his quarry with far greater care.

“For now, let us finish them off.”

Though the four had unleashed their qi and temporarily widened the gap in strength, the moment Hyungsan Eumhyeol turned tail, every one of his followers was as good as dead.

It took time, but he cut down every last warrior Hyungsan Eumhyeol had brought, without losing a single man of his own.

*Truly, this must still be counted a resounding victory.*

The battle drew to a close; with their leader Hyungsan Eumhyeol in flight, such an outcome was inevitable. A mere forty-odd White Path warriors had stood against more than one hundred and twenty foes of the Black Path—and victory belonged to the White Path.

*It is a shame I could not take Hyungsan Eumhyeol’s life… or perhaps not.*

He felt less disappointment than he had expected, and when he paused to wonder why, the answer came clear.

*I grieve only that I could not end him cleanly in a single stroke.*

In his former life, Hyungsan Eumhyeol had insulted his father. He had longed to see the wretch taste searing regret and bitter resentment before he died; a swift, simple death felt far too merciful.

*There will be many opportunities yet. I have already gained all that I might here.*

Hyungsan Eumhyeol would live to watch everything he had built over a lifetime crumble away piece by piece, until at last he met a gruesome end. Of this, Baek Yang-hui was certain.

This was why he had forged an alliance with the Tang Clan through a ten-year vow, planning all the while from his rebirth to this very hour.

*Strengthen the main house and exact my revenge—two birds with one stone. And speaking of revenge…*

There was another target: the Namgung Clan. He turned his gaze toward Namgung Cheon-hu, who at that same moment turned his head to meet Baek Yang-hui’s eyes. Their gazes locked but an instant.

Baek Yang-hui smirked, the corner of his mouth lifting.

*So it was Hyungsan Eumhyeol’s faction after all.*

His certainty stemmed from a simple fact: he had sensed Hyungsan Eumhyeol sending frantic telepathic messages, as ardent as a suitor pleading with his beloved. Namgung Cheon-hu had not replied, but instead shouted something odd—perhaps he had anticipated the ploy. Regardless, Baek Yang-hui could sense telepathic communications as they were sent.

He had possessed no such ability in his past life, but his preternaturally sharp qi sense, honed alongside what he had learned from the Sound Demon of qi and resonance, had granted him this gift. He could not yet make out the words themselves, it was true.

*A telepathic exchange with his subordinate. Messages sent from Hyungsan Eumhyeol. Add all other circumstances to the mix…*

He had no irrefutable proof—not yet. Yet as circumstantial evidence went, it was as damning as a full confession. Namgung Cheon-hu’s actions from this moment forward would make the truth unmistakable.

*He cut down some seventy Black Path curs, yet lost half his Heavenly Covering Sword Unit in the doing. That must smart.*

Every member of the Heavenly Covering Sword Unit was a peak expert; Namgung Cheon-hu had lost ten such masters in a single day. When one considered that a single master of the peak realm could dominate an entire region, the loss was staggering.

*To undermine the main house now, he will have to deepen his treacherous ties with the Black Path filth.* He might call upon reinforcements from the main Namgung branch, yet such a course seemed unlikely. For a proud, preeminent clan such as the Namgung to admit losing ten peak experts in skirmishes with ragtag Black Path bandits from Jiangxi? To claim victory after such losses would be one thing; to send more men after suffering them would bruise their pride beyond bearing.

*I have truly gained all I might have hoped: I have checked further Namgung interference, stung the Honam curs, and laid the groundwork to catch them red-handed in their treachery hereafter.*

All the ingredients were in place; now only remained to fashion them into the sweetest of triumphs. Lost in thought, he turned his gaze to A-du, Zhuge Seol-ha, and his other allies.

“Young brother—this is a glorious victory.”

Gu-ak approached him, his twin axes stained dark with blood. With Hyungsan Eumhyeol in flight, the Black Path rabble had lost heart and scattered, leaving Gu-ak without a foe to face.

“Well fought, Brother Gu.”

His praise was sincere; Gu-ak had shone brilliantly. Moments before, he had fought with wild, unbridled fury, as though reliving his days in the Black Path. Thanks to his fierce stand, Baek Yang-hui had been able to stand as bait for Hyungsan Eumhyeol without fear for his safety.

“A-du, you too did excellently. My thanks to you both.”

A-du had more than pulled his weight. Meeting him on the road to the Sword King Hall had been a stroke of extraordinary fortune—what aid he had given ever since, and all freely bestowed!

*A peak expert I might command with naught but a cake? What a bargain.* And not merely any peak expert, either—he could hold his own against one foe, or even three, of equal standing.

“Think nothing of it. Forgive me, Yang-hui—the fault is mine.” A-du looked crestfallen, blaming himself for the guards’ sacrifice that had let Hyungsan Eumhyeol slip away.

“No cakes for you, then. You shall reflect on your conduct.”

“It is not so bad. We shall slay him next time. I shall even give you two portions!”

“Truly?” His gloom vanished instantly.

Baek Yang-hui chuckled and turned to Zhuge Seol-ha.

“And to you as well, little sister—thank you for all you did today.”

“…It was nothing.” Zhuge Seol-ha looked downcast, though her sorrow ran deeper than A-du’s. Baek Yang-hui understood her feelings at once.

“Seol-ha, this was your first taste of true battle. When swords clash and death surrounds you, few can fight with their customary skill. Do not judge yourself too harshly.”

“Yet Senior Brother fought flawlessly from the very first.”

*I have spent twenty years mastering the sword; that is all.* He kept the thought to himself, for it would sound like an excuse.

“You gave all that was asked of you, and more. There is no cause for reproach.”

Zhuge Seol-ha stared at the ground, kicking a small stone. This was not how she had imagined it all unfolding. She was the direct disciple of Pa-cheon Eum-hu, ranked among the Heavenly Martial Ten Lords—yet today she had failed to display her true skill, even though her sound arts were suited above all others to fighting many foes at once. She had loosed but a few resonant waves against the rabble she had been told to engage.

*Even if I am but of the first-rate realm… I was far too hesitant.* To be of the first-rate at her age placed her among the finest young talents in the world, yet her standard was Baek Yang-hui. He had reached the first-rate realm years before; at her age, he was already a peak expert who could stand against the leaders of great factions. He was not merely preeminent among his generation—he was without equal. And beside him, even A-du seemed a master beyond compare.

“When you speak of what was asked… you speak not as a master of sound arts, but as a daughter of the Zhuge Clan, do you not?”

He could not answer immediately—for in truth, she was right.

“You see? It is as I have said.”

“Still… I am sorry.”

“I tell you it is nothing. I must simply strive all the harder henceforth.”

Baek Yang-hui regarded her with genuine admiration. To recognize one’s shortcomings, and resolve to improve because of them, was no small thing.

*When we return, I shall find her a fitting gift—she truly bore more than her share of the burden today.*

“Now, everyone—we return!”

They would go back to the main house, bestow honors and rewards, and lay their plans for what lay ahead.

—

“Our losses stand at some twenty men. The Honam Black Path suffered more than seventy dead and are fully routed.”

As Baek Yang-hui finished his report, the council chamber erupted in cheers.

“A magnificent victory!”

“To defeat such numbers with so few—what a feat!”

“When the Young Lord altered our plans so suddenly, I wondered at his judgment, yet he has brought us such fortune!”

Then Baek Mu-ryang spoke, and the room fell silent; all eyes turned to Baek Yang-hui.

“And our own losses among the main house warriors?”

“Six. Most were recent recruits not yet fully trained in our joint formations.” In this context, “losses” meant lives lost; in the martial world of the sword, wounds were not counted as such unless they proved mortal.

“I see. First, let us honor those who have fallen.”

Baek Mu-ryang bowed his head first. Those gathered included not just warriors of the White Garment Gate, but leaders of the New Month Halls and the master of the Heavenly Covering Martial Hall—and all looked upon him with reverence and awe.

*What a father… he does not let the glory of victory blind him to the smallest sacrifice.* In the martial world, death was ever present; it was customary to celebrate triumph and speak no more of the fallen. Baek Mu-ryang would have none of it.

“Now, Hui-ya—tell us all of why you acted so suddenly.”

Baek Mu-ryang knew of the meeting with the leader of the Black Sentinel Hall, but the other elders did not. Baek Yang-hui recounted everything.

“Heavens above!”

“Such a reckless course…”

“To venture alone into the enemy’s camp—truly, the Young Lord’s courage is without equal!”

“I thank you all. Once I had learned what I must, I knew we could not simply wait. I acted as I saw best.”

He spoke freely because Namgung Cheon-hu was not present; all here were trusted allies, and there was no need for secrecy.

*When people are trusted, they give loyalty in return.* Their bond was new, it was true—but that did not matter. If word leaked to Namgung Cheon-hu, so much the better; he might turn it to his advantage, and unmask the traitor in their midst.

“Speaking of which—where is the Young Lord of the Namgung? Why has he not returned?”

“The Heavenly Covering Sword Unit fought at the forefront; many are sorely wounded. They will return once they have recovered somewhat.”

It sounded plausible—fitting for a young lord and his sworn retinue. Yet…

“Even were it not so, he would have matters to attend to elsewhere.”

A remark heavy with meaning.

—

Not far from the battlefield, within a manor house that served as headquarters for one of the Black Path factions Hyungsan Eumhyeol had gathered:

“Curse it all!”

He crushed the arm of his chair to splinters in his grip. Hyungsan Eumhyeol, master of water arts, stood with hair loose and disheveled; Baek Yang-hui had cut through his topknot, leaving it in disarray.

“Namgung Cheon-hu… of all people, I shall see you dead!”

His rage was not directed at Baek Yang-hui. That arrogant whelp would pay in time, but first—Namgung Cheon-hu.

*Dare you betray me? Lay such a trap for me?* He had never trusted him entirely, of course—but that was what made the defeat so bitter. Betrayal from one trusted might be forgiven; to fail despite suspicion was to stand revealed as a fool.

“Master?”

“I said I wish to be left alone!”

“…A visitor has arrived.”

“A visitor?”

Sensing something amiss, Hyungsan Eumhyeol bounded outside like a beast at bay. His instinct had not failed him.

“Namgung Cheon-hu!”

He roared with the full force of his qi, yet Namgung Cheon-hu stood unmoved, his countenance impassive.

“Hyungsan Eumhyeol. We must speak.”