Chapter 3

A day in the life of a second year martial artist

Although the youngest of the Four Heroes of Cheongha had been eliminated, reducing them to the Three Heroes of Cheongha, it was still a fight of three against one. Normally, a numerical advantage like that was considered a clear benefit, and that held true here as well.

The difference lay in their mindsets.

Overwhelmed by the superior numbers of his opponents, Ahn Seongil was gripped by fear and searched for a chance to escape. Meanwhile, the Virtuous Trio of Cheongha advanced, aiming to finish the fight quickly.

Momentum was crucial in battle. That fact was made obvious by the contrast between Ahn Seon-il, who kept retreating while barely managing to block their attacks, and the Virtuous Trio of Cheongha, who devoted themselves entirely to offense.

This continued for about twenty exchanges. In modern terms, a “stroke” in Murim was similar to a turn in a turn-based strategy game.

Ahn Seon-il thought,

‘Huh. This isn’t as difficult as I expected.’

Jo Gaksan, the eldest brother of the Cheongha Trio, thought,

‘Damn it. Is the gap between us and that wall really this wide?’

In truth, the ideal form of a joint assault was not three against one, but four against one.

After all, humans recognized four main directions: north, south, east, and west. A formation could only be called complete when all four directions were controlled.

This idea had been proven long ago.

Buddhism had the Four Heavenly Kings, and Taoism had the Four Auspicious Beasts. Since ancient times, dividing the world into four directions had been treated as natural wisdom.

In that sense, three was an imperfect number.

And worse, their opponent stood in a higher realm.

Late-Stage First-Rate and Early-Stage Peak Realm might have been separated by only a single step, but that step was a much taller wall than most people imagined.

Another ten exchanges passed.

Jo Gaksan met his brothers’ eyes. Through the silent understanding built over years of brotherhood, they communicated without words.

This is bad. We should retreat. We need to bring the youngest with us too.

Wise decision, Eldest Brother.

I was waiting for you to say that, Eldest Brother.

The content of their silent exchange was more pathetic than expected. But considering that Jo Gaksan bore the title of Eldest Brother of the Virtuous Trio of Cheongha, his decision was only natural.

In Murim, nicknames followed a much simpler logic than one might think.

Those at the First-Rate level were certainly respectable martial artists, but in the present-day Murim, there were simply too many people in that same realm.

Because of that, if a First-Rate Expert wanted an impressive moniker, they needed to accomplish something that everyone could recognize and admire.

However, since people were plentiful and heroic deeds were scarce, most monikers were usually made by combining three things: the region where one was active, a notable trait, and their general alignment.

Jeungyeo as the place of activity, Ugly for the ugliness of his deeds, and Devil because he was a villain.

Qinghe as the place of activity, Gale for his speed, and Virtuous because he was on the righteous side.

Thus, Jo Gaksan, the Virtuous Gale of Cheongha, was known for his storm-like swiftness. In particular, he was famous for his strategy of retreating like a passing gale whenever a fight turned against him.

It was a title bestowed by people who admired that quality in him.

‘But since the youngest isn’t coming up, he must have broken something.’

The youngest is hopeless. Third, you go take care of him.

What? Me again? Can’t second brother take care of him this time?

Hey now, third. Are you… talking back?!

Unfortunately, the youngest was already dead.

But news of his death had not reached them, because naturally, the dead do not speak.

Had the youngest told them, “I’m dead, brothers,” the brothers would have become furious over his death and fought to the bitter end.

After having a few holes opened in their bodies, they might even have managed to execute the villain and avenge the youngest.

But right now, they were only thinking of running.

Jo Gaksan barely managed to deflect Ahn Seongil’s sword, then suddenly shouted.

“Now! Yeonhaeng-gwisan!”

Ahn Seongil immediately halted his attack and leapt back.

He had no idea what Yeonhaeng-gwisan was, but it sounded dangerous enough to be some kind of technique.

However, Yeonhaeng-gwisan meant absolutely nothing.

It was just a nonsense phrase Jo Gaksan shouted to frighten his opponent, giving himself the chance to flee like a gale.

It was similar to how the dead Zhuge Liang managed to defeat the living Sima Yi with empty words.

It was truly a mysterious strategy.

And so, the famous Virtuous Gale proved the worth of his nickname.

The three men swiftly pulled away like a storm.

Ahn Seon-gil was left behind, blinking in complete disbelief.

When A-Qing reached the upper floor, she saw three figures sprinting away.

She glanced over the numbers above their heads, their karma.

Seventeen, nine, one.

They were low, but they were still positive. That meant they carried Righteous Karma.

They looked like decent people, so they probably weren’t the Ugly Devil of Jeungyeo.

A-Qing’s interest faded almost immediately, but the three men flinched as they passed her.

Her appearance was simply too abnormal. Anyone would be startled upon seeing a female swordsman covered in blood and smiling.

Moreover, she gave off a suffocating presence, like an invisible pressure was tightening around their hearts. Perhaps it was because her feral eyes held a sinister glint.

Even so, A-Qing did not meet the eyes of the Virtuous Trio of Cheongha.

Among martial artists, that was a wordless signal.

It meant, We have no business with each other, so let’s go our separate ways.

After the three men had passed by, A-Qing immediately located the villain on the upper floor of the inn. There was a man with an extraordinary number above his head.

376 Evil Karma.

That was a terrifying amount of accumulated wrongdoing.

In other words, he was someone she was allowed to kill.

No, killing him would practically be a public service. He was that much of a piece of trash.

When A-Qing’s eyes met Ahn Seongil’s, he quickly rolled his gaze upward, avoiding eye contact.

That, too, was a silent signal among martial artists.

Let’s go our separate ways.

An Seong-il did not want to get involved with A-Qing.

After all, wasn’t there an old saying in Murim?

Beware of children, women, and the elderly.

Of course, the saying did not mean those groups were especially dangerous.

If you removed children, women, and the elderly, the only people left were adult men, and everyone was already cautious around adult men.

So the saying really meant this: In Murim, never let your guard down around anyone.

An Seon-gil tried to follow that wisdom and avoid trouble, but unfortunately for him, A-Qing had business with him.

“Hey. You there. Old bastard. Are you that human trash called the Ugly Devil of Jeungyeo or whatever?”

It was a sudden, violent verbal assault. An Seong-il’s expression went blank. The insult was so severe that he doubted his own ears.

It was only natural. He was being cursed out by someone far younger than him, perhaps even younger than his daughter or granddaughter would have been.

“How dare a little bitch still wet behind the ears—”

“What? Bitch? Did you just curse at me? How dare you insult me so harshly. That hurt my feelings. Now I can’t hold back.”

Despite saying she could not hold back, A-Qing was grinning from ear to ear as she drew her sword.

Then—

“I’ve never seen such a crazy b…! Hup.”

An Seong-il shut his mouth.

Qi was flowing from A-Qing’s sword, unraveling like fine threads.

When Qi overflowed even after Sword Qi had been formed, the phenomenon was called Sword Threads.

It was a technique used by martial artists at the Late Stage of the Peak Realm.

Cold sweat poured down An Seong-il’s body.

The woman before him was a master far above him.

He had stepped into a life-or-death crisis.

The difference in their skill was overwhelming.

“Crazy? You insulted me again? Wow, this is so offensive. Ha, I’m angry. I’m really, really angry.”

“No, that is not what I…”

“If you had insulted my family or my parents, I might have endured it. But I cannot endure an insult toward myself. No questions asked! Die! My Moonlight Sword is hungry!”

Despite her almost playful movements, the tip of her sword split into three paths before he could even draw a breath.

Three streams of Sword Qi surged forward.

Ahn Seon-gil’s mind raced furiously.

Which one was real, and which ones were feints?

Life or death. There was no time to think.

Just as Ahn Seon-gil was about to stake his life on choosing an answer to that deadly three-way dilemma—

A chill ran through him, as if every hair on his body had stood on end.

All three are real!

In that instant, he understood that every one of the three strikes was genuine. It was the kind of heightened perception that appeared only when one’s life hung by a thread, or perhaps the result of all his martial studies concerning the upper dantian finally reaching fruition.

 

With all his strength, he twisted his body and knocked away the sword strike aimed at his heart.

He had only managed to block a single strike.

Yet he had already suffered two wounds.

The difference in skill was enough to drive him to despair.

It was not merely the gap between the Early and Late Stages of the Peak Realm. The woman’s sword art itself belonged to a higher level.

For someone so young to possess such ability, she had to come from an extraordinary sect.

Which meant that even if he lost, he would die, and even if he somehow won, pursuers would eventually come for his life.

In that case, there was only one answer.

He could not fight her. This was a doomed battle from the start.

“Wait! Great Hero! This is a misunderstanding! A misunderstanding! It’s a misunderstanding!”

“What misunderstanding? I heard you clearly. You offended me. Repay this humiliation with death!”

“No, no! That is not it! Great Hero, wait, just wait!”

“Great Hero? Do I look that old to you? How dare you bring up a woman’s age.”

“Y-Young Hero, please wait!”

“Young Hero? Is a lowly martial artist who just reached Peak Realm allowed to call a master like that? How dare you…!”

“Heroine! Please, Heroine! Just hear me out!”

“Heroine? Are there separate male heroes and female heroes among chivalrous heroes? Gender discrimination is throwing the world into chaos, so I shall cut away those chains right here.”

The woman’s sword kept flying at him.

At times, the strike split into three paths. At others, four. And when it finally divided into five, Ahn Seongil lost even the will to resist.

All he could do was plead desperately.

By then, around twenty exchanges had already passed.

The fact that he was still on his feet was a miracle in itself.

Then, as if everything up to that point had been a lie, her assault suddenly stopped.

“I’m only explaining this because you keep insisting it was a misunderstanding.”

“Yes, Great Expert. No, Young Expert. No, that is…”

“I had just laid out an expensive meal and was about to enjoy it. For me, it was a very special commemorative day. It was the happiest moment I’d had since entering Murim.”

“Uh, well… I apologize for causing a disturbance…”

“No, do you think I’m some murderer who kills people just because things are noisy? Something dropped from above, you see. And since we’re inside an inn, that means it came through the ceiling, right?”

A-Qing turned her head.

Ahn Seongil followed her gaze.

There was a wide hole torn through the floor.

Cold sweat poured down Ahn Seongil’s back.

So that was why she was covered in blood.

“Good. Now you understand why you have to die, don’t you?”

“P-Please spare me!”

“Hmm. What should I do?”

A-Qing dragged out the silence, pretending to think, before finally speaking.

“First, hand over your money. My food was ruined. My clothes were ruined too.”

“I-I’ll give it to you!”

“Ah, how can I endure this? This is too much.”

“Yes? What?”

“Again! Hand over your money!”

“I’ll give it to you!”

“I don’t need it!”

An Seong-il panicked.

What exactly did she want him to do?

Was she just playing with him after forcing him down to his kne—

Ah.

Ahn Seongil’s eyes turned lifeless.

The reason he had survived this long was simple. Even when multiple sword strikes flew at him at once, only one of them was ever aimed to kill.

If he avoided that fatal strike, he could somehow block or endure the rest with his body.

In other words, the woman had been playing with him the entire time.

With that careless grin on her face, like a cat tormenting a bird.

“I… I’ve been caught by a murderous demon…”

“Ah. You noticed?”

A Qing’s smile deepened.

“That’s why you should have lived kindly. This is all karma. Karma. My Moonlight Sword drinks only the blood of the wicked.”

A Qing raised her sword.

The villain, sensing the end, shouted furiously.

“Do you think you’ll be safe, you bitch? Fine! I’m a bad guy! But do you think you aren’t one too? I’ll go to hell first and wait for you there!”

“Hell? With how high my good karma is?”

An Seong-il’s world spun.

His collapsing body entered his sight.

As he died, he thought,

But how could a sword falling straight down cut off a neck?

What kind of absurd swordsmanship was that…?

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