40 — Chapter 40

The External Protection Troops fought desperately against the Gold-claw warriors.

Yeon Mujin wasn’t standing idly by either.

The wooden building they fought in looked like an old barn—spacious, with a high ceiling. Thick pillars and railings jutted out here and there.

Gu Ma-cheon moved from railing to railing like a monkey, knocking over jars in the corners to try to douse the flames.

But even that proved insufficient.

Because Yeon Mujin was interfering.

Yeon Mujin noticed Gu Ma-cheon’s intent and swept his gaze around, smashing every crate and pot that might hold water. Not satisfied, he tossed dry kindling into the blaze and fed the fire.

Gu Ma-cheon couldn’t bear it any longer.

“You madman! Do you want us to burn to death together?”

“Yeah, you cross-eyed fool! Let’s all be cremated together today!”

Yeon Mujin laughed, a sound that climbed like madness.

Gu Ma-cheon could have fled. The sensible move was to slip outside, wait, and deal with anyone who tried to escape.

But he couldn’t.

He was a renowned warrior in the murim world. He couldn’t accept losing to an unknown nobody. And Yeon Mujin’s deranged laughter rattled him so he couldn’t think clearly.

No matter. He could kill them all and leave before the flames spread.

Gu Ma-cheon prided himself on his speed.

“Alright then, let’s die together!”

Was madness contagious?

Gu Ma-cheon leapt between pillars untouched by the fire, employing his Night Thief Step. The flickering flames cast chaotic shadows like wind-stirred branches, but for him those faint shadows were nothing. He used the dark to stalk behind Yeon Mujin—one move, one strike, a dagger into that madman’s nape.

The Night Thief Step was peerless footwork, and he was a renowned warrior. A quick act of setting fires would never let him detect such an approach.

Three, two, one—the distance between them shrank.

Yeon Mujin, engrossed in stoking the blaze, didn’t notice him coming.

Now.

The moment Gu Ma-cheon leapt from the railing and brought his short blade down toward Yeon Mujin’s crown—

“Peekaboo.”

Yeon Mujin smiled, looking exactly where Gu Ma-cheon had been hiding.

The blade flashed in the firelight, like a burning sword.

Startled, Gu Ma-cheon reflexively threw his dagger.

Clang!

Yeon Mujin deflected it with perfect accuracy and sent it flying back toward Gu Ma-cheon.

It was an astonishing trick.

Whoosh!

“!”

Gu Ma-cheon twisted his head frantically. A thin line of blood appeared on his cheek. Yeon Mujin seized the opening and lunged.

Blades danced across Gu Ma-cheon’s vision.

Clang! If he blocked.

Clang! Another blade would come.

Clang! If he dodged.

Clang! Yeon Mujin aimed precisely where Gu Ma-cheon had just stood.

Clang! If he hid behind a pillar—

Crack! Yeon Mujin sliced the pillar clean through.

The building groaned under Yeon Mujin’s chaotic cutting. Pillars collapsed, flames leapt, and still that madman rushed him like a hunting hound.

“You madman! Seeing the flames, the Night Water Clan will come pouring in! Aren’t you afraid?!”

When Gu Ma-cheon shouted, Yeon Mujin stopped and said, “Damn! I didn’t think of that.”

How could anyone be so ingeniously insane?

Gu Ma-cheon had met eccentrics, but never someone this unhinged and unpredictable. Yeon Mujin extended his sword again—this time toward the brow.

“You idiot! Isn’t fleeing the sensible reaction?!”

“Why should I?”

“Members of the Night Water Clan will come! They’re allies of me!”

“So what!”

Do you really intend to die here?

Clang! Gu Ma-cheon parried and retreated with the Night Thief Step. Yeon Mujin peered into the shadows and said, “Thief. Do you know why I won’t run?”

Gu Ma-cheon, hidden in the dark, did not answer.

“Because I’ve drawn my sword. When a man draws his blade, he must abandon the fear in his heart. If I draw a sword, I will certainly kill.”

Yeon Mujin adopted a strange stance—a sword posture Gu Ma-cheon had never seen before.

“Why did you force me to draw my sword?”

Amidst roaring flames and a collapsing building, the question sounded oddly forlorn.

The Three Calamities Sword Technique—Raging Wind.

A wind blew.

When he realized what it was, it wasn’t wind but a sword gale—a blade wind that could shred cloth and take lives.

…!

The hairs on Gu Ma-cheon’s nape rose. ‘It’s dangerous!’ It wasn’t rational judgment but instinct, like a lamb sensing a wolf.

He didn’t ignore it.

Gu Ma-cheon pushed distance between himself and Yeon Mujin, abandoning the Night Thief Step in favor of the desperate urge to flee. He flung himself across the floor in a humiliating roll. That loss of pride at the last instant saved his life.

He lifted his face, splattered with sparks and ash, and looked back at where he’d stood.

“Ha…!”

A section of the roof had been blown away as if a huge beast had torn it off. In all his life he’d never seen anything like it. A cold premonition of death settled behind his neck.

The External Protection Troops and Im San—the Gold-claw warrior drenched in blood—stared at the overwhelming sight in stunned silence.

On a moonless night, darkness poured through the torn roof into the blazing interior.

‘We must flee!’

In that instant, renowned warrior Gu Ma-cheon ceased to exist. Promises to Un Ji-kang, pride as a famed warrior—everything vanished like grass before a blaze under the urge to survive.

Gu Ma-cheon ran with all his speed.

This was only the second time he’d used the Night Thief Step at full sprint. The first had been the day he killed the palace guards and left the imperial palace.

‘Damn! Damn! Damn! Un Ji-kang should be damned—he should’ve warned me such a monster would come!’

His expensive black garments were caked in dust; his hair was singed in places, making him look old and ragged. But even rolling in filth was better than a miserable death.

Gu Ma-cheon understood murim’s rule clearly: it’s not the strong who survive, but the survivor who becomes strong.

But Yeon Mujin wouldn’t let him go.

“Stop right there! You thief!”

Yeon Mujin chased him like a possessed mad dog. Sparks ate at his clothing; he looked like a firefly in pursuit.

Gu Ma-cheon fled in terror.

“Thief! Thief! The thief’s running! People of the village, catch the thief!”

Yeon Mujin cried out as if he’d forgotten they were in the enemy camp.

This was the most humiliating flight of Gu Ma-cheon’s life.

At his wits’ end, he emptied all his daggers at Yeon Mujin, vaulted the Night Water Clan’s wall, and leaped into Namsa Lake.

Heavy daggers are a burden when you must swim.

Splash!

He swam with every ounce of strength. Footwork and body-transformation techniques he’d refined his whole life carried him. Thieves favored paths people avoided—rugged mountain trails, deserted alleys, rooftops—and lakes were no exception.

After a long swim he finally regained breath and found the surroundings quiet.

At last he thought he’d shaken off the madman.

Exhausted, Gu Ma-cheon reached the nearest shore. He had no idea where he was, how far he’d come, or what became of the Night Water Clan men.

He couldn’t know any of that. But he did know one thing: he had survived.

…At least, that’s what he thought until a voice spoke.

“Did you remember an urgent appointment?”

…!

Gu Ma-cheon looked up at the voice above him in disbelief.

Impossible—Yeon Mujin.

His hair clung damp like seaweed to his face, shadowing Gu Ma-cheon’s haggard features.

Gu Ma-cheon croaked, “How on earth—”

“I’ve never lost a running race in my life.”

He had no strength left to lift a finger.

Gu Ma-cheon crawled, prostrated himself at Yeon Mujin’s feet, and bowed his head.

“Please spare me. We met only today, didn’t we? There’s no grudge between us, is there? If you save me, I won’t forget this favor and will repay you.”

“…”

“What do you need? Wealth? Honor? Women? I can give anything. I’m one of the richest men around. I can take what’s in anyone’s pocket. Name it and it’s yours. So please, please spare me once.”

“If you beg so…”

When Yeon Mujin showed signs of lowering himself, Gu Ma-cheon summoned his last strength and thrust out a dagger.

Clang!

Yeon Mujin bit down on the rising blade with his teeth, then kicked Gu Ma-cheon’s face and snatched the dagger. In the violent wrench, Gu Ma-cheon’s fingers were twisted the wrong way. His scream embroidered the surface of Namsa Lake.

“I’m sorry! Old Man’s worry wouldn’t leave my mind. Now I truly have nothing. Please spare me just once.”

“I was thinking of sparing you.”

Gu Ma-cheon looked up in servile hope.

“You were going to spare me?”

“I haven’t heard where you hid the sect leaders yet. If you tell me that, I’ll spare you. As you said, we’re strangers.”

Pth.

Yeon Mujin spat contemptuously and hurled the dagger deep to the bottom of Namsa Lake.

“Are you being honest?”

“Have you ever seen me say two things with one mouth?”

Gu Ma-cheon shook his head like a madman. Even if he’d seen it, he had to pretend he hadn’t.

He meekly revealed where he’d hidden the sect leaders—everything he knew. If only he could escape, he was even prepared to divulge the intimate secrets of his hidden lover.

Yeon Mujin listened in silence.

“I see.”

“Now, will you spare me? You’ll keep your promise, right?”

Yeon Mujin chewed his words, then said, “Why would I?”

That was the last sound Gu Ma-cheon heard.

His throat was severed in a single stroke.

Thud.

Yeon Mujin gazed at the nighttime view of Namsa Lake—hushed and still. Like clouds parting, the moon peeked down at the lake’s edge, as if everything that had happened was on the other side of the world. The deaths, the flames, the screams, the scent of blood and metal—all lay submerged beneath the tranquil shoreline, revealing nothing.

“I told you.”

Yeon Mujin muttered as he kicked Gu Ma-cheon’s severed head and body into the depths of Namsa Lake.

“I told you—on the day I draw my sword, I always kill someone.”