Chapter 248

Chapter 248
**Chapter 248: Night of the Blood Assassins**

Baek Mu-ryang drew his blade and swept a wary gaze across his surroundings. Yet having only just burned away the heavy fog of intoxication moments earlier, his senses had not yet recovered their full sharpness. As a result, his reaction to the crimson-edged sword rising from his blind spot lagged just enough to matter.

“Father—look out.”

Yang-hwi shoved Baek Mu-ryang aside and drove his spear straight through the assassin’s throat. The weapon pierced clean through, tip emerging on the other side; it would be truer to say the man’s neck had been nearly severed in two.

Baek Mu-ryang clicked his tongue, equal parts surprise and approval. “Whi-ya, you could barely sense anything yourself, yet you caught that perfectly.”

“My senses have always been unusually keen,” Yang-hwi replied. He had just expelled a vast quantity of alcohol from his system; his perceptions were bound to differ from their usual razor clarity.

*This is why growing complacent is so dangerous… though ‘complacency’ doesn’t feel quite the right word,* he mused. Who could possibly have anticipated assassins would strike in a city where four of the Heavenly Martial Ten Supremes were gathered? It was a gambit even Yang-hwi had dismissed as unthinkable. Had he held even the faintest suspicion, he would have warned his father long before danger drew near.

*What are they thinking? If this escalates, every leading master within miles will converge here instantly.* Did they truly believe they could pull this off with total secrecy? And having failed the opening blow, they showed no sign of retreating—if anything, they must have assumed he would raise the alarm on purpose.

*Eight more, all at Peak Realm strength. I pray no additional reinforcements are waiting in the wings.* Caution was the only sensible course.

—Father, channel the Heavenly Harmony Origin Art at full power.

It was the supreme technique he had developed himself. By reversing its core principle—drawing in the ambient qi of the world from all six directions—one could perceive the very flow of energy with unparalleled precision. It was also the perfect distillation of Yang-hwi’s uniquely refined senses, shaped through years of martial insight.

—Understood, came Baek Mu-ryang’s reply.

—For now, let us engage lightly and observe their movements to learn their true intent. Is that agreeable to you?

—I am your father. I have never let my training lapse; you need not worry on my account.

Baek Mu-ryang’s sword flared with brilliant white light. Fierce energy surged around him, accompanied by the distinct, imposing aura of the Heaven-Covering Sword. As the faint cry of a hunting hawk seemed about to ring out, Yang-hwi sent a hasty mental message.

—For the moment, we must keep this quiet. Let no sound escape. If we are to uncover their full plot, we must let them believe they are succeeding at first. We can make all the noise we wish once we know what drives them.

He turned his voice outward then, sharp and unafraid. “What are you waiting for? Step into the open—all eight of you. I know you are there.”

Disturbances rippled through the qi all around them. Clearly they had not expected their hidden positions to be laid bare so easily. In the next instant, eight figures darted forward at breathtaking speed. They moved with peerless lightness skills, their stealth techniques utterly flawless.

*Impressive,* Yang-hwi admitted silently. *Skill worthy of genuine respect.* These were, after all, operatives of one of the Five Great Assassin Sects; it was hardly surprising they possessed formidable arts. He thought of Chudal, who had fooled masters of the Peak Realm while himself no more than First-Rate. *Perhaps I can draw their techniques out of them by force. The useful ones I will refine and pass along to Chudal—he would be delighted to study them.*

The assassins flowed forward like quiet streams, striking with the suddenness of lightning. And then all eight blades converged on a single target—Baek Mu-ryang.

*The despicable curs!* Rage flared in Yang-hwi’s eyes. He stepped instantly before his father and let his true aura erupt.

—Kkiiiaaaaa!

A majestic hawk took shape within the surging qi, spreading vast wings. Baek Mu-ryang stared in confusion. “Whi-ya… I thought we agreed to remain quiet?”

“It is quite all right. I have raised a qi veil to muffle every sound,” Yang-hwi assured him. He had trained under Yin Hu, after all; silencing an area was child’s play. He had held back from casting a wider, more obvious veil only because he feared it would startle the assassins into flight.

“And your plan to uncover their scheme?” Baek Mu-ryang pressed.

“Plans must change when the moment demands it,” Yang-hwi answered unashamedly. His expression hardened into a scowl as he fixed his gaze on his attackers. “You scum dare to set your sights on my father?”

The strategy had shifted. Their plot no longer mattered—he would crush every last one of them. He would leave one breathing, just long enough to make them speak.

—

“Listen closely. These are your orders, and they end here. Do you understand what is required of you?”

The speaker was a woman draped entirely in crimson, as though she had been born from blood itself. To look upon her stirred unruly desire; her voice reached into the heart and made one ache to offer comfort. And yet Seventeen Blood, elite operative of the Silent Blood Gate, pressed his forehead to the ground and trembled—not from fear, but from the overwhelming awe of standing before someone he had never dreamed he would meet.

“Lady Bloodblood, I shall carry out your command without fail,” he vowed.

She chuckled softly and extended a foot clad in pristine white. She rested it firmly against the back of his head. “No, you will not carry it out in the way you think, dear one. I am sending you to meet your deaths. You grasp that, do you not? You must not give in—you must fight with every breath in your body.”

It was no burden. To die in service to the high priestess who stood in the Blood God’s most sacred presence was to be reborn as a Blood Ghost, dwelling in eternal joy.

“Your task is simple. Provoke them to the utmost. Draw forth their true strength and make this spectacle burn bright.”

The weight lifted from his head. When Seventeen Blood looked up, Lady Bloodblood was already gone. He savored the brief, exalted encounter for a moment before his expression set once more into the disciplined calm expected of one of the Five Great Assassin Sects’ finest.

*I will fulfill the command. No matter what stands in my way.*

He deployed his subordinates and waited for the perfect opening. And then it came—two targets walking apart from others, with no escort. *The gods smile upon us,* he thought. They had not even headed for their inn, but instead toward a secluded mountain slope, as though they wished to view the night sky in private.

—From Yi-ho through Gu-ho, assume stealth formations and close the circle, he ordered. When their conversation stretched on longer than expected, he signaled his subordinate to strike. *Flawless. We struck at exactly the right moment, in the exact blind spot.*

Then it all unraveled.

“Father… some ill-mannered wretches are intruding on our time together,” the younger man had said. His subordinate had been cut down in an instant.

—She knew, Seventeen Blood realized. *She knew this would happen. Still… it changes nothing. I will obey until my last breath.*

He sent a second assassin; he too fell. Then the younger man spoke clearly into the darkness: “What are you waiting for? Step forward. I know eight of you hide there.”

*What?! He saw past my stealth as well?!* It was impossible. An operative of the Silent Blood Gate could slip past the guards of the greatest sects. How could a youth barely past twenty possess such extraordinary perception?

—It does not matter, he told himself. *Our true target is not the Heaven-Covering Sword Dragon.*

—All operatives! Strike! Kill the head of the Baek Clan!

The command had scarcely left him when a terrible, all-encompassing aura burst forth.

“You dare threaten my father?”

Hell opened before them.

—The Heaven-Covering Sword Dragon’s might exceeds every report. Fall back half a pace and maintain maximum stealth, he ordered. It was a prudent call—draw back just enough to gain space, yet remain poised to strike.

But… “Do you believe distance will hide you?”

A whirlwind erupted at the young man’s feet. One assassin cried out as he was pierced through.

“You will not find death easy. I will make every moment hurt.”

Pain meant nothing to those raised in the sect; they had been hardened against suffering from childhood. Or so it was supposed.

“Kraaaaaak! Kraaaaaaaaak!” Their screams were terrible to hear, carrying anguish that seemed to pass from them to anyone who listened.

“You claim immunity? Then die,” the young man jeered, and another fell.

*A monster… he is an utter monster,* Seventeen Blood thought. It was beyond all reason—such senses, and such cruel skill at inflicting torment upon those trained to endure it.

—Fall back one full pace! he commanded. It went against their instruction to fight until the end, but this was necessary; it was a strategic withdrawal that would let them complete their mission.

“Running away? Do you imagine I will not hunt you down one by one?” the voice rang out. The remaining six scattered in every direction, yet he spoke as clearly as though he stood beside each of them. He knew exactly where every last one was.

“Excellent timing. There is a new art I have been practicing.”

A premonition of icy dread seized Seventeen Blood—and then it was realized. Several pure white feathers drifted into view, launching themselves like daggers, swerving and pursuing with a life of their own.

*Air Grasp…!* It was common knowledge the Heaven-Covering Sword Dragon had mastered Vital Qi. But Air Grasp as well? And wielded with such deadly refinement?

“Guk!”

“Kruk!”

“…Uk!”

In the space of a few breaths, every subordinate lay dead. Seventeen Blood himself collapsed, feathers piercing both legs, unable to move as the young man approached.

“You are their leader—your qi betrays you. Am I correct?”

Seventeen Blood laughed hollowly. *Lady Bloodblood… you did not warn me we would not even be able to struggle…*

“I know you will not speak freely, but I must ask. Who sent you? You belong to the Silent Blood Gate—only your order employs qi of the Blood Cult in assassination.”

The young man waited a moment, then bared his teeth in a snarl. “First you will pay for your treacherous attack.”

Pressure struck key acupoints across his body, and fire tore through him—agony so intense his eyes bulged. *Why… why does it hurt…?!*

“You hide your suffering well… but your composure is cracking. Do you wonder why? Behold the nature of pure qi,” his captor said. Pristine, righteous energy flowed into him, yet it burned like poison, unraveling him from within.

“Kaaaaak! Kraaaaaaaaaaak!”

“Leader, try to maintain some dignity. You are making quite a racket.”

The torment seemed to stretch on forever, until at last it ceased. By then Seventeen Blood was ready to tell everything—he had been ready long before the end.

“Speak. Who hired you?”

“N-Namgung…”

“I knew it,” the young man growled. “Not that—what other orders were you given? Tell me everything.”

“You will not speak? Then it seems the lesson is not yet complete.”

“No! Wait—I will tell you!” Seventeen Blood squeezed his eyes shut, recalling Lady Bloodblood’s parting instruction.

“One final directive: if you are captured, do not conceal that the Namgung Clan is the patron behind this.”

“…What?” Confusion replaced anger on the Heaven-Covering Sword Dragon’s face.

Seventeen Blood smiled inwardly. His body was broken beyond repair, his muscles would no longer obey him, but his spirit was triumphant. *Lady Bloodblood… your will is done.* Then he felt the pull from deep within, and his soul slipped free of its mortal shell.

—

“One final directive: if you are captured, do not conceal that the Namgung Clan is the patron behind this.”

The words sparked a sudden, uneasy thought. *Someone is pulling strings… and I have walked directly into the center of them.* As he began to frame the next question, Seventeen Blood went still.

“Hm?” He pressed a hand to the assassin’s chest and poured in healing qi—but there was no life left to save. The man had died instantly, by some undetectable means, before he could intervene.

“Whi-ya… he is gone. I cannot tell how he took his own life.”

“I know. If it had been done through qi, I would have sensed the shift. It is a complete mystery.” Yang-hwi stared down at the body, his brow furrowed. This affair was far more tangled than he had imagined. He turned possibilities over in his mind, yet could not settle on his next move.

*Damn it… this is treacherous.*

Then Baek Mu-ryang spoke. “We should see to the remains first. If anyone chances upon this scene, there will be panic.”

Yang-hwi’s expression brightened. “Ah! That is it.”

“What has occurred to you?”

“It is not the perfect course… but it will serve.” Yang-hwi met his father’s gaze with a confident grin. “Father—thanks to you, I believe I know exactly what to do.”