Chapter 711: A Truly Pathetic Assassin
Darkness had descended.
Cha Iran looked at the darkened alley with cautious eyes. From within, she felt the stifled killing intent, and the air flowing around carried the omen of death.
Enemies were spread all around her.
Cha Iran carefully set Geom Mugeuk down.
She leaned his body against the wall and lightly covered him with a black cloth.
It was a concealment screen, the kind assassins always carried to keep from being spotted in such dark places. Thin and light, when folded, it was no bigger than a palm.
Fortunately, today she wore the black martial attire that matched Geom Mugeuk. It was easy to fight in and didn’t stand out in the darkness.
‘It’s almost as if you foresaw something like this would happen, isn’t it?’
She quietly moved deeper into the shadows.
Inside the alley, a martial artist stood leaning against the wall. He hadn’t drawn his sword, worried that the blade’s reflection might give him away, so he stood pressed against the wall.
Saaaak.
With the sound of flesh tearing, his throat was cut.
The one who covered his mouth and slit his throat was Cha Iran. Right now, she had become a perfect assassin.
After laying the martial artist’s body quietly on the ground, Cha Iran was about to return to where Geom Mugeuk was.
Shiiik!
A sword came flying out of the darkness. A hidden martial artist revealed himself, shedding his concealment. The exposed one earlier had only been bait to lure her into death—it was a trap from the start.
Cha Iran twisted her body reflexively to avoid the strike.
Pah-at!
The flying blade grazed her arm.
Puk!
The dagger in her hand pierced the martial artist’s throat.
After laying the corpse down quietly again, Cha Iran leapt back toward where Geom Mugeuk was. Though she had eliminated her opponent, if she had been even a little slower, she could have been injured. It was proof that these were not foes to be taken lightly.
‘They’re Hwa Do-myeong’s direct subordinates.’
Their martial skills were formidable, but more than that, as Hwa Do-myeong’s men, their concealment techniques were exceptional.
She removed the concealment screen covering Geom Mugeuk.
Heat radiated from his body, eyes still closed. Within him, he must have been fighting an intense battle.
“I believe you’re listening to me. Just endure a little longer.”
She hoisted Geom Mugeuk onto her back. To free her hands, she tore her clothes and strapped him firmly against her body.
The fastest way to reach the Divine Transformation Gang was to leap roof to roof using light footwork. But that would draw too much attention, making her the focus of attacks. Carrying Geom Mugeuk, she couldn’t afford to fight that way.
She began moving through the darkness once again.
As befitted the finest assassin, there was no sound of breath, no footstep, not even the faintest trace of energy in her movements. It was as if only a shadow drifted within the night.
Then suddenly, the moon, hidden behind the clouds, revealed itself.
As the surroundings lit up brightly—
The outline of a martial artist hiding in the shadow of a wall a short distance from her became visible. He also noticed her.
The martial artist drew his sword, preparing to release sword energy, but Cha Iran was faster.
Shiiiiiik!
Puk!
Her dagger flew straight and fast like light, embedding itself in his throat.
At the same time, a surge of sword energy came flying at her from behind.
Swaeeaeeek!
The sword energy filled the alley, and with Geom Mugeuk on her back, she kicked off the ground and leapt upward.
As her figure appeared in the air with the moon at her back, two martial artists, who had been concealed on the rooftops on either side, rushed at her as if they had been waiting.
The one from the left struck faster.
Swae-aeak.
Cha Iran stretched her body fully, leaning flat in the air. The sword grazed her face and missed. Reflected in the blade was her expression—utterly calm.
Kwaaak.
She seized the attacker’s wrist and twisted it, her body rotating along with his.
Puuuk!
The sword of the martial artist rushing from the right pierced through the chest of the one on the left. Using the left martial artist as a shield, Cha Iran simultaneously thrust out her right palm.
Puaaaang!
Like a downpour, her qi burst forth and slammed into the chest of the right martial artist.
Pupupupupu!
Holes punched through his chest, sending him flying into the distance. It was her unique palm technique, raining down like a midnight shower.
Heavenly Maiden Night Rain Palm.
Her hidden signature martial art had been unleashed.
Normally she only used concealed weaponry and never revealed this technique, but tonight she was showing everything.
In an instant, she dropped back down, blending into the alleyway.
Clouds once more veiled the moon, and the surroundings turned dark again.
After retrieving her dagger from the corpse, she swiftly moved on.
From Geom Mugeuk’s lips came a faint groan. The more violently she moved, the greater his suffering would be.
But moving safely and slowly would only be more dangerous. Even if it was risky, she had to increase her speed and break through.
As she turned into the next alley—
Four martial artists lying in ambush attacked her at once.
Puaang!
She struck the martial artist on the left with Heavenly Maiden Night Rain Palm, flung her dagger at the one on the right, and deflected the incoming sword from the front with the back of her hand while twisting her body to avoid the strike from behind.
Kwaaajik!
The martial artist hit by Heavenly Maiden Night Rain Palm was blasted backward, while the dagger buried itself precisely in the throat of the one on the right. She deflected the attack from the front, but the problem was the martial artist behind her.
Shiiiiik.
To protect Geom Mugeuk from being harmed, Cha Iran had no choice but to sacrifice one of her own arms.
Puuuk!
The sound of flesh tearing rang out.
But it was not from Cha Iran’s body.
Someone had charged in, snatching the assailant away and driving a dagger into his side in rapid succession.
Puk! Puuuk!
The one who subdued the enemy like that was First Beauty.
The martial artist who had attacked head-on was now besieged by two others.
Chaeng! Chaeng!
He managed to block the attack from Fifth Beauty on the left.
Puk!
But he couldn’t defend against the dagger that Seventeenth Beauty drove into his back.
Just as he gritted his teeth and tried to turn with his sword—
Puk! Puk!
This time, Fifth Beauty stabbed his back repeatedly.
Unable to endure any longer, the martial artist collapsed where he stood.
Their opponent’s martial arts skills had not been weak. If they let their guard down, they could just as easily fall.
The women exchanged only a glance.
The grateful look Cha Iran sent as she ran was met with a reassuring gaze that told her to entrust her back to them.
First Beauty directed Fifth Beauty and Seventeenth Beauty to take the right path, while she herself went into the left alley.
This was not a battle that favored groups moving together. It was a fight of shadows hunting shadows in the darkness.
Fifth Beauty and Seventeenth Beauty moved in pairs. Their steps were careful, for they never knew where hidden ambushes might lie. Cha Iran might evade such attacks, but for them, it wasn’t as easy.
From the direction First Beauty had gone, a scream suddenly rang out. Fortunately, it wasn’t a woman’s scream.
For just a brief moment, their attention faltered at the sound—
Swaeeaeeek!
A sword came slashing at Fifth Beauty in a sudden ambush.
In that instant, she deflected the blade flying out from the darkness.
Puuuk!
But another sword, its wielder shedding concealment, pierced into Fifth Beauty’s abdomen.
Chaeng! Chaeng!
Seventeenth Beauty threw herself in the way, blocking the follow-up attacks aimed at Fifth Beauty.
The two martial artists who had revealed themselves were fast and strong.
Even within the same faction, there were those of higher skill. The ones they faced now were far superior to those encountered earlier.
Chaeng! Chaengchaeng!
Seventeenth Beauty fought desperately to shield Fifth Beauty. It wasn’t out of loyalty to protect her, but without that determination, she couldn’t have blocked the combined assault of the two.
Thanks to her, Fifth Beauty was able to staunch the bleeding from her abdomen and rejoin the fight. But with her seasoned experience, Fifth Beauty knew instinctively—if things continued this way, both of them would die.
Fifth Beauty hurled herself recklessly at one of the martial artists. It was a desperate move of mutual destruction, dragging the enemy down with her.
“You crazy bitch!”
The words burst out in panic, for the attack was so threatening, an assault that disregarded her own life.
From that all-or-nothing attempt, Seventeenth Beauty found an opening.
At that very moment, the two women switched opponents mid-fight.
Shiiiik!
Seoeok!
The martial artist Fifth Beauty had aimed to kill was struck down instead by Seventeenth Beauty. But because Fifth Beauty had overextended with her reckless move, she was stabbed in the shoulder by the other opponent.
In the end, Fifth Beauty collapsed on the spot. The wound on her abdomen was already critical, and now the injury to her shoulder was just as severe.
Seventeenth Beauty had no time to check her companion’s wounds—the enemy continued pressing the attack relentlessly.
If she could plan her strikes carefully, Seventeenth Beauty could have killed him. But this battle was different.
Assassins were killers who struck from the shadows, not warriors adept at head-on clashes like this.
As Seventeenth Beauty faltered under the onslaught, a faint, strained word came from behind her.
“…Go.”
It was a plea to abandon her and escape.
But Seventeenth Beauty fought on. Even as her arm was cut and her thigh slashed, she refused to give in.
Kaaang!
The dagger in her grip was knocked to the ground.
Without hesitation, the martial artist thrust his sword toward her.
Shiiiiiik.
An assassin’s needle was clenched in Seventeenth Beauty’s hand. If the sword pierced her chest, she planned to seize the blade with one hand and throw the needle with the other.
Would it succeed? Unlikely. But even so, it was the only way to give Fifth Beauty the faintest chance to live. Just as Fifth Beauty had gambled on a mutual-destruction strike, Seventeenth Beauty resolved to sacrifice herself.
Puuuk!
The sound of flesh ripping echoed.
But it wasn’t from Seventeenth Beauty’s body. Nor was it the needle in her hand that made the sound.
A dagger had lodged itself in the martial artist’s throat.
Papapak!
When the dagger was pulled free, the man spewed blood and collapsed to the side.
Behind him stood a Faceless Swordsman. Seventeenth Beauty instantly recognized him—it was the Crescent Moon Faceless Swordsman.
Of all people, it was he who had saved her once again. She had hoped that if they met during this battle, it would be her turn to save him instead.
The Faceless Swordsman picked up her dagger from the ground and handed it back to her. It was the very dagger she had wished to give to him, but now he was the one returning it to her.
Yet this was no time to be consumed by personal feelings.
She hurried over to check Fifth Beauty’s wounds.
She pressed on the blood points to stop the bleeding and applied Golden Wound Medicine. Even so, Fifth Beauty’s face, drained by the blood she had already lost, was deathly pale.
Then the Faceless Swordsman handed her a small pill. It was an emergency medicine used only by Faceless Swordsmen in dire moments.
When Seventeenth Beauty slipped the pill into Fifth Beauty’s mouth, a hint of color returned to her pallid face.
The Faceless Swordsman pointed with his finger toward one side. It was the direction where the enemies had already been cleared.
“Take your companion and withdraw that way.”
It was the first time he had spoken to her.
Seventeenth Beauty bowed her head deeply.
“Thank you.”
Sadly, that was as far as their exchange went. Carrying Fifth Beauty on her back, Seventeenth Beauty ran in the direction the Faceless Swordsman had indicated.
Before turning the corner of the alley, she looked back once. The Faceless Swordsman had already vanished into the darkness.
---
Amidst many corpses, Cha Iran was gasping for breath.
“You certainly brought a lot of spectators.”
Hwa Do-myeong had said he would only be an onlooker in this matter, but in truth, he had staked everything on it.
She turned again to look at Geom Mugeuk, who sat propped against the wall.
They had tried to drag him away after seating him here, and in forcing herself to stop them, she had been cut in two places. Fortunately, the wounds were not fatal, but she had lost much blood, and her condition was poor.
‘Just a little further.’
The maze-like alleys had finally been left behind. Beyond that forest, not far away, lay the Divine Transformation Gang.
“Young Cult Leader, endure just a little longer! I’ll definitely take you there!”
But as she stepped out of the alley, Cha Iran stopped in her tracks.
Her expression darkened.
Before the entrance to the forest, more than twenty martial artists stood in formation, swords in hand.
They wore the same clothing as those she had fought earlier, but their eyes were sharper, their killing aura keener. They seemed to be the finest within their ranks.
Breaking through them in her current state would not be easy.
Among them stood Hwa Do-myeong.
And he was not alone. Behind him, three figures—two men and one woman—stood with bamboo hats shading their faces. They revealed no trace of energy, yet their very presence was enough to unsettle the nerves. By assassin’s instinct, she knew.
‘Dangerous ones.’
Hwa Do-myeong regarded her calmly.
“He must be heavy. Put him down.”
Cha Iran untied the cloth binding and carefully seated Geom Mugeuk down.
She looked at him.
It felt as though he might open his eyes at any moment and smile brightly at her. But Geom Mugeuk remained still, eyes closed, silent.
“Sorry, but it seems I’ve failed this commission.”
A faint smile formed on her lips, prepared as she was for death.
“Giving up the job, failing the job… truly a pathetic assassin I am.”
Still, Geom Mugeuk gave no reply.
After gazing at him for a while, she slowly stood and turned around. A dagger was in her hand.
“Do I get to choose the one who comes with me?”
Without waiting for an answer, Cha Iran pointed her dagger at Hwa Do-myeong.
“You.”
Chwaaaak.
Hwa Do-myeong unfolded his fan and waved it lightly. Had it been just the two of them, he would have hidden his face behind it. But before his subordinates, he was someone else entirely.
“Yes, I’m only a spectator at times like this, am I not?”
As if to allow no further mockery, Hwa Do-myeong gave a cold command.
“Kill them and bring the Young Cult Leader.”
The twenty-some martial artists began to step forward.
Just then, someone leapt in from behind.
The one who rushed ahead to block Cha Iran’s path was First Beauty. A few more assassins arrived behind her. The fighting in the alleys still raged, but First Beauty had brought a small number with her in advance.
Cha Iran knew. With only them, the situation could not be overturned. Hwa Do-myeong alone was formidable, but those three mysterious figures behind him radiated an even greater dread.
So she issued an order to First Beauty.
“Gather the others still fighting and leave this place.”
“No.”
First Beauty had no intention of retreating. For the first time, she disobeyed Cha Iran’s command.
Hwa Do-myeong’s voice rang out again, unchanged.
“Kill them all.”
At that moment, the moon broke free from the clouds again, casting the surroundings in brightness.
Compared to the approaching enemies, their side’s strength was far too meager.
And then—
First Beauty spoke to Cha Iran.
“I will follow your order.”
The sudden change in her tone puzzled Cha Iran, while Hwa Do-myeong sneered.
“Yes, the living must live on.”
But First Beauty lifted her head, as if to say it wasn’t for that reason, and looked upward.
Everyone’s eyes followed hers.
Atop a towering tree stood figures.
When had they arrived?
On the high branches of the great tree were Faceless Swordsmen. Some stood, some crouched, others sat astride the branches. Behind their masks, they silently gazed down upon the scene, eerie and dreadful.
Whiiik! Whiiik! Whiiik!
One after another, they leapt down from the tree.
Chak! Chak! Chak! Chak!
Even from such a height, the Faceless Swordsmen landed lightly.
Like a shield, they formed a line between Cha Iran and the assassins.
Hwa Do-myeong regarded them with a cold gaze.
He had dismissed the assassins before, but the Faceless Swordsmen could not be ignored. Not because they inspired fear, but rather because—
‘If they’ve come, then…?’
At that moment, a quiet voice came from behind Cha Iran.
“Young Cult Leader.”
Startled, Cha Iran and the assassins turned back. Somehow, Evil Smiling Demon had appeared, seated in front of Geom Mugeuk.
Under the cold moonlight, the white mask of Evil Smiling Demon glowed with a pale blue gleam. From within that icy visage, burning eyes shone out.
“Now that I have come, open your eyes!”