Chapter 50: Simple and Foolish
It felt as if the whole world had been painted black.
Seo Yu-gyeom briefly looked around before sitting cross-legged.
“Mm.”
A short sigh slipped out.
At the very last moment, he had tried to grab Jin Seong-un’s hand but failed. It was not simply falling—some strange force dragged him down beneath his feet.
By sensation, he felt as though he had fallen through at least one entire realm. Thanks to that, Seo Yu-gyeom immediately realized.
“A peculiar formation.”
Assassins were familiar with formations. After all, the targets they were hired to kill often hid within them.
Seo Yu-gyeom expanded his qi sense. Since not a single speck of light existed anywhere around him, using his eyes was meaningless.
Something was there ahead. It was not a presence—rather, his extended qi struck something as though it had been blocked.
As he approached, he saw it was a desk.
“……”
Seo Yu-gyeom let out a sigh and perched on the desk.
And at that moment—
His head snapped backward.
A sharp sting pricked his chin.
When he touched it with his hand, it came away hot and wet with blood. A dagger had grazed him without even the sound of air being split.
“This isn’t the formation of the Jaegal Clan, that’s for sure.”
The Jaegal Clan’s formations did not use swords or daggers like this.
As if to prove themselves descendants of Zhuge Liang, they summoned lightning, called down storms, or made spikes erupt from the ground.
Not this.
Seo Yu-gyeom tilted his head repeatedly. Several names flashed through his mind. He sorted through the famous formation masters of the era—those who might have sold their skills to the Black Path for coin.
Knowing who crafted the formation made it far easier to deal with. And if he managed to survive and escape, he planned to carry his Heaven-Slaying Dagger straight to that man’s heart.
True, it was only a transaction for money. But here, that same formation placed him at the brink of death.
That was the nature of Murim. The moment you got entangled, you had no right to complain about how you died.
While those thoughts ran through him, Seo Yu-gyeom felt his entire body bristle as though his hair stood on end.
Crackle—!
He began sprinting forward.
His speed was frighteningly fast. If he slammed into a wall he could not see, it would mean instant death.
He wildly scattered his qi sense forward, depending solely on it as he ran.
Shiiiik—!
From behind came a tearing roar of blades ripping through the air. The metallic whistling of flying weapons. And not just one.
Dozens, hundreds of blades rushed forward faster than even his own sprint.
“…Shit.”
A curse escaped him.
The sound drew closer and closer.
Seo Yu-gyeom abandoned running. He turned and gripped the Heaven-Slaying Dagger tightly.
He closed his eyes and held his breath.
Only hearing. Only qi sense.
He focused every shred of attention on them.
‘If only I were Jin Seong-un.’
The thought rose unbidden.
That monstrous sense, capable of hearing the clatter of pots from a noisy inn’s kitchen, or the heartbeat of a man walking across the room—
It was exactly what he needed now.
The roar of hundreds of blades filled the air, like waves crashing from an unseen ocean, bearing down on him with suffocating pressure.
The sound grew nearer.
Seo Yu-gyeom swung his Heaven-Slaying Dagger.
Shrrrak—!
A black crescent-shaped arc of saber qi burst forth ahead.
Kagang—!
The blades clashed against his saber qi in a cacophony of steel.
In the same instant, Seo Yu-gyeom twisted his body. His side hem flapped as a blade barely missed—had he been a moment slower, his stomach would have been pierced.
One strike of saber qi could not stop them all. He poured out arc after arc, yet some blades still slipped through the gaps.
Dodge, block, deflect, parry…
Seo Yu-gyeom did everything he could.
After batting aside nearly twenty blades, he felt his internal energy begin to run dry.
Maintaining heightened senses while releasing massive saber qi was no easy feat.
Thud—!
He bit down on his lip. A burning pain tore through his thigh.
Seo Yu-gyeom yanked out the blade that had pierced him. It was of an awkward length between a short and a long sword. He gripped it firmly in his left hand.
He would likely die here, but if by some chance he survived, he swore he would drive this very sword into the heart of the Saryonggang Leader.
Without time to soothe the pain, he ran again. He suspected the blades tracked his exact position and pursued accordingly.
If he stayed in one place, their numbers only multiplied. At this point, he knew whose formation this was.
Iron Artisan.
One of the most renowned formation masters of the era. His victims always ended up riddled with dozens of blades throughout their bodies.
Seo Yu-gyeom had once seen a corpse taken by Iron Artisan’s formation. The memory of that horrific sight gave him strength to run a little longer.
…
…
…
An interval of time passed.
Seo Yu-gyeom’s body had three more holes in it.
His eyes kept closing, so he let them stay shut. He could hardly see anything with them open anyway.
He swung his dagger by instinct.
Kang—!
He tried to deflect a blade, but his body was flung backward. He no longer had the strength to parry.
Panting raggedly, a thought struck him.
‘Should I have gone to the Hwa-un Trading Company first?’
Yes. No matter how he thought, he should have.
The Trading Company’s master—his elder sister—there was one question he had always wanted to ask her.
He knew she hated him. But had she truly forgotten what her father had done to him?
That had always gnawed at him with bitter injustice.
“The Gang Leader must already be dead.”
Up above, Jin Seong-un was there.
Seo Yu-gyeom believed that even if the entire Saryonggang came at him, Jin Seong-un would still prevail.
What was he doing now? Perhaps after tearing half the Saryonggang apart, he was already searching for a way to dismantle this formation.
The sight painted in his eyes suddenly made him laugh.
Every time that monstrously strong man showed a clumsy, immature side, it was simply hilarious.
But Iron Artisan was no careless fool. Unless Jin Seong-un was a master of formations, he had probably never even seen one before. Iron Artisan’s formations could never be destroyed with brute force alone.
Even if Seo Yu-gyeom died, the Seong-un Inn would be safe. Han Seong-chun’s skill was outstanding. Though it was regrettable that he had lost his son to the Food Butcher, the fact that he had come to Seong-un Inn was fortunate.
A flood of thoughts passed in the span of a moment.
Seo Yu-gyeom lay flat on the ground, gripping the Heaven-Slaying Dagger tightly.
‘As a so-called master.’
It had been a gift from the Vice Leader of the Deathshroud.
Whether or not the man had meant it as one, Seo Yu-gyeom accepted it as such.
Swaaaang—!
A blade sliced chillingly close above him.
Its trajectory drew nearer and nearer.
Soon, his body would surely be pierced all over.
With that thought, Seo Yu-gyeom gave up and drew in a deep breath. Since his killing intent had gone out of control, he had not truly slept in a long time.
He had feared that if he slept, he might accidentally kill No Sang-won, Han Seong-chun, or Seomun Ak.
Drowsiness weighed upon him.
His breathing grew faint.
Just before he drifted off—
Kang—!
The clang of steel rang from afar.
From the direction the blades had flown.
Seo Yu-gyeom lacked the strength to rise, so he only tilted his head up. There, something crimson came into view.
“…Huh.”
The red glow swelled larger and larger.
In an instant, the pitch-black space lit up like broad daylight.
It was a massive blaze of crimson flame. No—upon closer look, it was an unimaginably vast wave of sword qi in the shape of fire.
“Oh…”
The sword qi surged forward like a tidal wave.
Not a metaphor. It truly filled the space, crashing in with the force and scale of the sea.
Fwoooosh—!
The blazing sword qi swallowed every single one of the countless blades.
Overwhelmed, Seo Yu-gyeom clenched his eyes shut. Never in his life had he felt such a thing. Thanks to being born with the Heaven-Slaying Star, he rarely knew fear.
But now…
The sword qi swept across the entire space and vanished along with the hundreds of blades.
Darkness returned.
Step, step.
Someone approached.
Of course, Seo Yu-gyeom knew who it was. He was only bewildered as to how Jin Seong-un had come here.
The footsteps stopped before him. Seo Yu-gyeom still lay on the ground.
Fwoosh.
A small but steady flame bloomed in a hand—so tiny and precious compared to the earlier blaze. In Jin Seong-un’s palm.
Illuminated by the Threefold True Flame, Jin Seong-un gazed down at the prone Seo Yu-gyeom.
“Are you all right?”
“No… wait, you know formations?”
“You assumed I wouldn’t?”
“You… know?”
“I don’t.”
Seo Yu-gyeom let out a hollow laugh.
His doubts only deepened.
“This was Iron Artisan’s formation. You couldn’t have broken it with brute force. Did you make some deal with the Saryonggang Leader?”
“You just saw it yourself.”
“Saw what?”
“That even brute force works.”
“……”
Seo Yu-gyeom blinked.
Now that he thought of it, no blades had flown since Jin Seong-un appeared. That crimson, terrifying sword qi must have shattered the formation itself.
When he had learned of formations in the Deathshroud, they had taught him: a master like Iron Artisan’s formation could never be broken by sheer strength. Everyone in the world believed that. They called it common sense.
Seo Yu-gyeom studied Jin Seong-un’s blank face for a moment.
A man outside common sense.
“…So it does work.”
“Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“To treat your wounds.”
Jin Seong-un’s expression, rare in its concern, fell on Seo Yu-gyeom’s body. Holes marred his thigh, waist, shoulder, and forearm.
Though none of the wounds were wide, an ordinary man would have long since died.
“This sort of thing heals if you just spit on it.”
“Spit or medicine, that can wait. For now, let’s leave. I don’t think we should waste time.”
“True, who knows what else this formation might do.”
“That’s not it…”
Jin Seong-un trailed off.
Seo Yu-gyeom wondered, but chose silence. Being alive mattered more than questions.
Supported by Jin Seong-un, he walked on for a long while.
“What is this…”
The space itself had been torn open.
Together they stepped out, and light rained down from above.
A secret chamber. But unlike a dim candlelit room, it was lit bright as day. Perhaps the Saryonggang Leader had opened it while fleeing.
Regardless, Jin Seong-un’s hands were firm on Seo Yu-gyeom’s waist and shoulder.
Thud—!
They kicked off the ground and soared.
Seo Yu-gyeom’s eyes widened. As an elite assassin, he was confident in his lightness arts, but this felt like truly flying through the sky.
They burst out of a deep well in an instant.
And the scene before his eyes—
“…Wow.”
Now he understood why Jin Seong-un had been so insistent on haste. With such carnage, officials or Murim forces would soon arrive.
In this small chamber alone lay around twenty corpses, each torn or hacked apart.
Jin Seong-un had not seen them as people, but only as things to be killed.
Among the dead was the Saryonggang Leader.
Outside the room, the spectacle worsened. The long corridor was filled with blood and corpses. Not one body was intact. It was as if the legendary Blood Demon himself had descended.
“You’re not secretly a disciple of the Blood Demon, are you?”
“……!!”
Seo Yu-gyeom tossed the line in jest, but Jin Seong-un’s eyes flew wide.