Mount Hua was in Shaanxi Province, and the Zhuge Household was in Hubei Province.

Fortunately, the two provinces bordered each other.

The Zhuge Household lay east of Mount Longzhong.

Which meant that once they rounded the mountain in front of them, they would be there.

“Are you all right, Soyak?”

Eunsong glanced back at Soyak as she followed behind him.

Despite her small, slight frame, Soyak kept trudging after him without complaint.

“…I’m fine, Master.”

“Good. But if it gets hard, tell me at once.”

Soyak nodded.

Her problem was her low stamina.

She was not suited to long battles, and for the same reason, forced marches were hard on her too.

What internal energy reinforced was physical ability.

Superhuman strength. Superhuman reaction speed. Sword Qi sharp enough to cut steel.

But stamina depended wholly on how well the body itself had been trained.

And the problem was that, up until barely three or four months ago, Soyak had only been a maid.

“…Ugh.”

Sweat beaded across her brow and ran down her cheeks.

She kept fanning herself with the cheap folding fan Eunsong had bought her during the journey, but it did little good.

At last, unable to keep watching, Eunsong stopped walking.

“Did I not tell you to speak up if it got hard?”

“…”

She did not want to become a burden.

Especially not now, when this trip to the Zhuge Household was half for the sake of her joining the Reverse Heaven Society.

Even until now, theirs had never been merely a simple relationship between master and disciple.

They shared the same enemy.

But to stand with the Reverse Heaven Society…

meant standing as an equal not only beside her master, but beside every other martial artist within it.

People who shared the same ideal.

People who stood with the same cause.

People trying to free the martial world from the grip of Alliance Leader, Sword Sovereign Namgung Ak.

Of course, almost all of them probably included—

had personal grudges against the current Martial Alliance as well.

But they did not stop at being individuals consumed by resentment.

They were the kind of people who used that resentment as the force that would pull the trigger on revolution.

And if she wanted to stand with them…

then at the very least, she could not become dead weight.

“Get on my back.”

“B-but…”

“Soyak. You always forget.”

“…What is this unworthy disciple forgetting now?”

She sounded genuinely aggrieved.

No one had ever told her in her life that she had forgotten something they had taught her.

Her eyes clearly said she had no idea what he meant.

Eunsong let out a soft laugh, crouched down, and brought himself level with her.

Then, narrowing his eyes, he laid it out one point at a time.

“You are the disciple, and I am the master.”

“…Yes.”

“And you are still only fourteen, Soyak. So what possible reason could there be that you cannot ride on your master’s back?”

Soyak’s mouth snapped shut.

She had nothing to say.

There was nothing strange about a fourteen-year-old disciple riding on her master’s back.

If anything, that was far more ordinary than the reverse.

“I know you’ve grown very strong, Soyak.”

“I’m still lacking.”

“I know you feel that way. But no one in this world can live entirely alone, without ever burdening anyone else.”

Eunsong plucked the fan from her hand.

Then he started fanning the back of her neck, where sweat was pouring down.

The fine black strands that had been stuck to her cheek fluttered loose.

“One day, you become a burden. Another day, you become the one carrying the burden and help someone else. That is how people live. If you try to shoulder everything alone, take responsibility for everything alone, lead everything alone, and keep moving forward alone…”

FLICK.

Eunsong folded the fan shut in one hand with practiced ease.

Then he pressed it back into Soyak’s hand and said,

“You turn into someone like the Sword Sovereign. He was the same way.”

“…Ah.”

Soyak instinctively shrank back a little and frowned.

It was the kind of reaction that only came out when she truly hated something.

Seeing that, Eunsong chuckled and turned his back to her.

“So get on.”

“…I’m worried I might be heavy.”

“You?”

Eunsong asked it in a tone of utter disbelief.

The question on his face was whether she truly thought that.

The problem was that Soyak answered in all seriousness.

“I’m… much heavier than a sack of rice.”

“…Most people weigh more than two sacks of rice.”

“But even one sack of rice is already very heavy…”

“Just get on.”

“…Yes.”

In the end, Soyak only blinked a few times before climbing onto Eunsong’s back.

Eunsong was not a large man.

Compared to Eun Jeong, his fellow disciple and the standout among Mount Hua’s second generation—Mount Hua Sword Dragon Eun Jeong—

he was actually closer to lean and slight.

Even so, to Soyak, his back was more than broad enough.

Though that was also because Soyak herself was so small and thin.

“Comfortable?”

“Honestly… yes.”

“I see. So riding on your master’s back is comfortable, is it?”

“…What?”

Soyak’s voice shook for an instant.

Eunsong’s joke had landed like a direct blow to the pit of her stomach.

She nearly sucked in air the wrong way and hiccuped.

“Don’t take it so seriously. I’m joking.”

“…That kind of joke is cruel.”

“You should get used to it. Your master was always a bit cruel.”

By the time they had circled around the foot of Mount Longzhong—

a line of martial artists in pale-colored uniforms was blocking the road.

Every one of them wore a longsword at the waist.

“Halt!”

The shout rang out like thunder.

Among them, the only one with a red collar stepped forward.

Looking more closely, Soyak saw the character Zhuge embroidered over the left side of his chest.

All of them, however, wore red bands around their sleeves.

“Martial artists of the Zhuge Household, I take it.”

Eunsong smiled lazily and greeted them first.

“That is correct. At present, the Zhuge Household is strictly restricting all outside visitors.”

“But this is not Zhuge Household land.”

He was right.

Unless the Zhuge Household had somehow bought up every road leading to Mount Longzhong, they had no reason to block passage here.

“There has been… an incident. We are restricting access while it is being investigated.”

“What sort of incident?”

“Before that, I would appreciate it if you would identify yourselves.”

Eunsong narrowed his eyes.

These men already knew he had come from Mount Hua.

He had made it this far wearing Mount Hua robes embroidered with plum blossoms, after all.

So that was not a real request for identification.

It was, in effect, an order to leave.

If he had any sense, he was supposed to turn around and go back.

But Eunsong only smiled and ignored the hint completely.

“I am Eunsong, a second-generation disciple of the Mount Hua Sect. I have come to see the Internal Affairs Pavilion Lord of the Zhuge Household.”

“You mean… Miss Zhuge Yeon?”

“Yes.”

The martial artist with the red collar hesitated for quite some time before letting out a sigh.

Then he finally explained.

“Since you are a guest of Miss Zhuge Yeon, it was my mistake not to recognize you sooner. Please forgive the discourtesy I showed earlier with your broad generosity. However… at the moment, it is truly difficult for us to admit outside visitors.”

“Would it be all right for you to tell me what the problem is?”

“Well, you seem like the sort who would hear it from Miss Zhuge Yeon anyway, so I may as well tell you.”

He stepped closer.

Then he lowered his voice until it was barely above a whisper.

“At present, the First Young Master and the Second Young Master are competing for the position of heir.”

“That is the sort of thing that happens in any great household.”

“It is. But…”

The martial artist swallowed dryly.

His expression made it clear that something ugly had happened.

“Someone killed one of the Second Young Master’s men and hanged the body from a tree here.”

It was indeed ugly.

*****

The corpse had been laid out on the ground.

It was obvious he had died without ever realizing the moment death came for him.

There was no pain in his expression.

“Merciful.”

“…The killer’s hand was not wholly vicious. And yet…”

“Yes.”

“I cannot help but think this was the work of an assassin.”

The martial artist with the red collar was Danmok Il.

He was the commander of the Red Sleeve Corps, the Zhuge Household’s martial arm.

Though the Zhuge Household was generally considered a step below the other Five Great Households and Nine Great Sects in martial strength—

Danmok Il himself was still a master standing at the brink of Apex, one who had mastered the Great Heavenly Star Art and the Ascending Heaven Flying Dragon Sword.

Even so, not even he could have killed that man so cleanly in a single stroke.

The blade had cut into the back of the neck and driven deep.

It had pierced straight through the throat, then withdrawn without so much as the slightest tremor.

It could only be called an exquisite technique.

“…I think it really was an assassin’s work, Master.”

“You see it that way too, Soyak?”

“Yes.”

Having experienced it herself, she was all the more certain.

The attack she had endured when Eunsong stood guard over her.

The attack Seol Yegang had used on her.

And even the sword wound carved into Cheonjeong’s chest.

Assassins favored the thrust.

Because it was the fastest, surest way to kill in a single instant.

A slash could certainly kill if it landed properly, but…

it gave itself away.

The edge cutting through empty air. The sound. The fractional delay created by the curved arc of its path.

A martial artist of sufficient level could respond to that.

That was why Byeoksagok, the former Night-Heaven Hall Lord, had become famous for the Myriad Ghost Heavenfall Sword.

Because when that sword swung, it made no sound and tore no telltale edge through the air.

But most assassins could not master the Myriad Ghost Heavenfall Sword.

So they killed with a thrust.

The problem was—

that the victim had been a martial artist at the entrance to Apex.

He had not been drunk. He had not been drugged.

On top of that, the Zhuge Household’s Lesser Heavenly Star Art and Great Heavenly Star Art sharpened the five senses far more than most other arts.

In other words, Zhuge Household martial artists were not easily taken by surprise.

So if someone had pierced through all of those senses, killed him, and then hanged the body from a tree…

then at the very least, it was someone equal to or stronger than the dead man.

Possibly stronger still.

And judging by the lack of any trace left on the ground, the killer’s footwork or movement art had to be extraordinary as well.

“Young Hero Danmok Il.”

“Yes?”

“This child and I first have business with the Internal Affairs Pavilion Lord of the Zhuge Household. However… if the Internal Affairs Pavilion Lord permits it, I would like to offer my help in resolving this matter. Would that be acceptable?”

“If the young lady permits it, what more could I possibly say? If you would help us, I would be grateful.”

Eunsong smiled and gave a cupped-fist salute.

Then he beckoned Soyak closer…

and passed by them toward the main gate of the Zhuge Household.

Once they had gone far enough that voices would barely carry—

Eunsong spoke to Soyak as if in passing.

“There was killing intent clinging to the wound.”

“…I felt it too.”

“That sword art, then.”

The Soul-Slaying Sword.

A martial art of the Kill Veil.

A vicious sword art that left behind dense killing intent and let it gnaw through the acupoints, just as it had in Cheonjeong’s wound.

“It seems this will not be easy to resolve.”

Chapter 99

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