Toward Qingcheng Sect (5)

“There they are! After them!”

“Don’t let them escape! Absolutely do not lose them!”

We were still running through the night streets.

And I was pacing myself just enough so that they wouldn’t lose track of us.

To keep them focused on us, chasing relentlessly, I continued to play the part of the injured woman, leaning on Lady Jeong-yeon for support.

Of course, I didn’t actually put any weight on her, so she had no trouble moving.

The discomfort was mine.

When I had first been cornered into pretending to be a woman, I had felt deep despair.

“They want me to cross-dress?”

What kind of nonsense was this?

Just imagining it was mortifying.

But once the operation began, I realized the disguise wasn’t the issue at all.

With my frame altered by the Bone-Shrinking Art and a rain-cloak over me, there was hardly any need to act like a woman.

Lady Jeong-yeon’s surprisingly convincing acting carried the whole ruse; all I had to do was go along.

It was astounding how someone usually so quiet and composed could throw herself into the act with such realism.

But that wasn’t the real problem.

The real difficulty was something I hadn’t anticipated.

Physical contact.

— “Lord Seonu, lean on me a little more if we’re to look convincing.”

— “Eh? Ah… yes.”

From the start, she had insisted with complete sincerity that I stay close.

So from earlier, our bodies were pressed together, my arm draped over her shoulder, her arm wrapped around my waist.

For me, it was unbearable.

In both my lives—more than thirty years combined—I had only once ever experienced such closeness with a woman.

‘And even that was in this life, when I rescued Lady Tang…’

Then too I had been tormented by stray thoughts.

But back then, urgency left little room for distraction.

Now, with the enemies less threatening and a little space to breathe, my mind kept drifting.

Why were women’s bodies so soft, even trained warriors?

The gentle sensation distracted me so much I couldn’t focus.

I was ashamed.

Lady Jeong-yeon seemed intent only on fighting, but here I was, faltering over such things.

Pathetic, Seonu Jin.

How disgraceful.

Forgive me, my lady. Tch.

“Haaap!”

Jeong-yeon’s sword flashed mercilessly at the warrior blocking their path.

Once again, it was a form of the Emei Sect’s most aggressive art, the Annihilation Sword.

Chae-chae-chae-chaeng!

“Urgh—gahhh!”

Puhwak!

The guard collapsed, spraying blood.

It was astonishing.

He had seemed a first-rate mid-class fighter, even with greater inner strength than her.

Jeong-yeon could feel it.

Her martial ability, stuck at mid first-class for so long, had in this moment risen at least a step.

Every time she had crossed blades before, her head had filled with stray thoughts, hesitating her hand.

Seizing the moment, striking decisively—such things had always eluded her.

But now it was different.

‘No thoughts at all—my sword just moves instinctively.’

It was miraculous.

And more: the very sword art she was unleashing, the Annihilation Sword, was one she had barely ever practiced, avoiding it for being too aggressive, too risky in defense.

Now, it felt like floating, her heart pounding in her own ears, the act of cutting without hesitation exhilarating.

She didn’t know if it was genuine breakthrough or fleeting chance, but she knew the reason why.

‘Lord Seonu.’

The press of his iron-hard, muscular body against hers made her heart hammer ceaselessly.

It wasn’t a sudden feeling.

Though she prided herself on her restraint, Jeong-yeon had been captured from the first moment he saved her.

How could she not?

He was her savior; with a handsome face, untainted eyes, kind voice, and unfeigned consideration.

No part of him failed to disarm a woman’s guard.

And on top of that, he proved to be a skilled martial hero of chivalry.

Her junior sister Jeong-an, devoted to Hwa Yeong-bin, would never agree, but to Jeong-yeon, Seonu Jin lacked nothing compared to the Emei Sect’s idol.

‘No… perhaps he surpasses him.’

Unlike Hwa, always sorrowful, Jin was steady but also bright—so much more attractive.

And now, his body pressed wholly against hers.

That pleasant thundering in her chest had blown away her lifelong hesitation and cluttered thoughts. She almost wished time would stop.

But meanwhile, more Blood Cult warriors were catching up.

Even with her growth, it was more than she could handle.

“That bitch’s skill is impressive!”

“Strike together!”

“Uwahh!”

Three enemies surrounded and charged at once. Panic flickered on Jeong-yeon’s face.

But then, Seonu Jin’s voice touched her ear.

— Miss! Only fight the one on the right! Ignore the others!

The right?

Since Jin was on her left, it was indeed easiest to strike rightward.

Without hesitation, Jeong-yeon ignored two blades and focused solely on the rightmost.

Absolute trust.

“Haaht!”

Annihilation Sword, Second Form.

Heavenly Thunder Splits.

Shuhak!

Her sword became three bolts of lightning that stabbed forward.

A form that met the enemy’s thrust head-on, ignoring defense, to pierce first.

“Wha—?!”

The Blood Cult man started to defend, thinking no need to risk himself when he had allies.

But at that instant, from Jin’s rain-cloak, two more gleams darted out.

Pshuk!

“Ghhk!”

Cheng!

One throat was pierced. The other barely blocked—by sheer luck, not skill.

Shaken, he staggered back, chilled.

And saw his comrade struck by Jeong-yeon’s storming blade, blood spraying.

“Th-this—!”

He fell back, intending to regroup and attack with his fellows.

But just then, another streak shot from Jin’s cloak.

Pshuk!

Startled, he hurled himself aside.

He thought only of escape.

He didn’t even register what the hidden weapon was.

But the next instant, something buried itself in his neck mid-flight.

And he died instantly.

Puk!

“Ghhk!”

He couldn’t even comprehend what happened. He had dodged—yet he still fell.

He never realized the blade had changed course.

Jeong-yeon, finishing her opponent, turned toward Jin—and gasped.

The throwing blade had curved in mid-air to chase its target.

Like the legendary Flying Sword technique.

“Th-that’s—!”

Only when Jin reeled in the blade with the silver-thread tether did she understand.

Her eyes widened in wonder; she longed to ask.

But just then, a new figure leapt at them.

“You impudent wenches!”

A vicious-looking man, saber in hand, emanating a red glow of blade-qi—a peak master.

Jeong-yeon’s face paled.

Barely at the beginning of Peak Realm, but equal to her revered senior, the Emei Sword Phoenix Jeong-in.

From Jin’s cloak, three hidden weapons shot forth.

Pshushuk!

But the man barely blinked.

“Pathetic!”

Cha-cha-chang!

He cut down all three without slowing, his saber’s red qi descending toward Jeong-yeon.

Then Jin’s cloak suddenly unfurled wide.

Hwaaak!

The fourth of Jang Sansama’s lieutenants, Warrior Udo Hyo-ubu, scowled as his sight was suddenly blocked.

A troublesome trick.

Prudence would say retreat and clear his view.

But that annoyed him.

“Humph!”

Scoffing, he pressed on, unleashing his saber.

“Uwahh!”

Chuaaaak!

Like red lightning splitting into many bolts, a devastating strike.

Jeong-yeon, transfixed, saw her companion’s cloak shredded like paper.

Even as an enemy’s blow, it was fearsome and beautiful.

But then she saw—

Seonu Jin, back in his true form, rising beside her and thrusting his sword forward.

His handsome profile curled in a fierce grin, wings of radiant sword-light bursting outward.

It was like a scene from a tale.

The sword-light wings enveloped the falling foe. The peak master’s eyes turned startled.

He slashed wildly, desperate.

And the next instant—Jeong-yeon couldn’t follow.

Shuk!

Or maybe she saw—a single flash of light.

Then Jin’s sword was through his heart.

She stared blankly.

What had just happened? It was as though the middle steps had been cut from time.

Only the start and end remained.

The answer came in another’s voice:

“One Breath, One Kill? A Diancang disciple?”

Jeong-yeon turned, startled.

A harsh-faced middle-aged man smirked at Jin.

The aura pouring from him made her skin crawl.

And not only him—the men at his sides were also formidable.

Jin looked calmly back, as though expecting him.

“Not a formal disciple, but close enough. And you—are you a Blood Cult demon?”

Unshaken, Jin faced him with cool composure.

But then, in Jeong-yeon’s ear, his true voice sounded, urgent.

— A master beyond me. His cultivation must be over eighty years. We must flee with all our strength. On the count of three, climb onto my back. Ready? One, two…

At the same time.

Bi Sayoung and Jeong-an had located what they suspected was the women’s prison.

Deep within the Mountain Sword Sect, near the main hall—unlike the other buildings, two guards stood watch.

Not watching outside, but watching to prevent anyone from leaving.

It had to be the place.

Jeong-an asked nervously,

— Young master Bi, what now?

Bi Sayoung gauged their strength.

Both were about mid-to-high first-class—around his own level.

And Jeong-an was said to be mid first-class too.

Normally, charging would be unwise. This was the enemy base; the smallest stir could summon dozens.

But now, it might work.

Seonu Jin had drawn nearly everyone away. The area was clear.

Bi Sayoung focused on the terrain and presences, then whispered.

— Miss, listen carefully….

Moments later, Jeong-an, heart pounding, crept around to the flank of the sentries.

Bi Sayoung’s plan was that if she ripped off her mask and rushed them, he would handle the rest.

Why her mask had to come off, she didn’t know. But she wanted to try.

She would trust him.

Taking a deep breath, she counted to three in her heart, then burst forward.

‘One, two, three!’

Pahpak!

Though it was a flank, the distance was enough that the guards spotted her immediately.

“Huh?!”

“An intruder!”

Chang! Chang!

Their sabers flashed. But then their expressions twisted oddly, eyes fixed on her.

She didn’t know why.

But she never had a chance to ask.

Because at that moment, Bi Sayoung struck like lightning from behind.

Puhwak!

Both throats slashed, their heads spurting blood as they flew.

They likely never even realized they were dead.

Jeong-an stared with round eyes—then squealed in delight.

“Kyaah! Young master Bi, amazing! Truly the Storm-Responding Hero!”

Flustered, Bi Sayoung turned aside, coughing.

“Humph. Hmph. It was just a sneak attack. Let’s move.”

But he couldn’t stop the smile tugging his lips upward.

Then—

A chill pricked the back of his neck. He flung himself aside.

Pahpak!

Shuak!

Dead on. A blade split the space he’d just left.

Such clean precision made his heart lurch cold.

“Ho… your skill is nothing, but your instincts and footwork are sharp.”

The intruder’s eyes gleamed greedily as he swept them over Jeong-an.

In that instant, one hand slashed at Bi Sayoung, the other grabbed Jeong-an’s neck and sealed her acupoint.

She hadn’t even realized.

It was Myeong Dae-sul, second of Jang Sansama’s lieutenants.

By chance, they had run into him as he came to fetch women.

With her point sealed, Jeong-an managed to cry out,

“Young master! Run! He’s a master!”

Bi Sayoung already knew. He had crossed blades with peak masters before.

This one was at least early Pinnacle, maybe higher.

Still, he clenched his teeth and leveled his saber.

“I won’t leave the lady behind.”

Myeong Dae-sul smirked, letting go of Jeong-an’s neck and aiming his saber at Bi Sayoung.

His blade blazed with a long red aura.