"Hah."
A group of martial artists was approaching from the distance, surrounding us as they closed in.
They weren't the Tang Clan martial artists I'd been expecting. Their attire and weapons were all different, and not a single one among them wore green martial robes.
The only common thread was the killing intent they couldn't quite suppress. But that alone was enough to guess who they were.
"I thought they'd come a little later than this."
"Young hero Cheon? What are you talking about all of a sudden, in the middle of a meal?"
Tang So-wol wiped the crumbs from the corner of her mouth and walked over to me. Then she saw them. The shadows coming to kill her.
"Surely not?"
"That's right. I don't know where they caught our trail, but it seems we've been found out."
"Let's leave this place at once. They don't seem to have spotted us yet, so if we go now…"
"No. We're already surrounded. It's true they don't know our exact location, but that's precisely why they're tightening the encirclement while holding formation."
"It's too early to conclude we're surrounded. Let me first go check the situation in the rear."
"It's because the martial art I've mastered is rather peculiar. I'm quite sensitive to killing intent. …And right now, killing intent is vibrating from all directions."
They had probably raised their Aura in advance so they could strike at any moment, not knowing where Tang So-wol might be spotted. What I'd felt was the killing intent mixed into the energy they'd carelessly let slip.
"…You could even do something like that?"
"Even more than that is possible."
As I shrugged my shoulders and said that, Tang So-wol's eyes narrowed.
"If what the young hero says is true, then fleeing is already too late. In that case, we need to come up with a plan quickly."
"Plans or not, there are only two options. Either break through the encirclement somehow and run, or take down all of them right here. For the record, I don't recommend the latter."
"Why not?"
"The purple poison-nurturing herb hasn't been fully absorbed yet. If you can't use your poison art, even if we break through the encirclement, we won't be able to shake off our pursuers. In the end, we'll be caught once our stamina and internal energy run out."
"That's… true, I suppose."
Poison is a highly efficient weapon. Even just scattering it carelessly while running would be enough to slow the pursuers' feet to some extent.
But right now, using poison art was out of the question. Tang So-wol was a genius of poison, not of hidden weapons, so she wouldn't be able to bring out even half of her true skill.
Tang So-wol knew this well herself, which was why she nodded so readily.
Of course, I was confident I could get myself out of this in one piece either way, but I wasn't confident I could protect Tang So-wol safely while fleeing.
My internal energy had only just barely crossed the threshold of first-rate. Against the kinds of people who'd driven Tang So-wol to the point of risking her own death, it was woefully insufficient—unless they were a bunch of nobodies.
The Crazy Wolf Life-Stealing Art was the culmination of my Enlightenment, a martial art perfectly suited to me, and since its foundation lay in Unorthodox Sect techniques, even if it lacked purity, its energy accumulation speed was considerable… but there simply wasn't enough time. It hadn't even been half a year since my regression, after all.
In that situation, if both Tang So-wol and I were to survive, there was no room for choice.
Perhaps it was because it was the easiest outfit to throw hidden weapons from. I asked Tang So-wol, who was in the middle of changing into the Tang Clan's martial robes, even if only the outer layer.
"How many hidden weapons do you have left?"
"Most of them were used up fighting young hero Cheon, so I only have about thirty percent of what I normally carry. If it were one or two, maybe, but it's far from enough to deal with all of them."
"Only throw your hidden weapons when you absolutely must. If you run out, throw a rock lying on the ground."
"Then what will young hero Cheon do?"
"Go out and cut them down."
"…Will you be all right?"
"Hard to say. If someone has my back, I think I might be."
"You do have a way with words… Don't worry. The Tang Clan's Hidden Weapon Art can kill a man with a brick."
"People die from a brick hitting them wrong, too."
"Tsk! Just nod your head quietly, would you?"
"…"
I'd said something true, so why was I getting scolded for it?
It felt a little unfair, but I'd learned before the regression that arguing at a moment like this only made things more annoying, so I just nodded.
"Hmph! Good. Just trust me! …Still, I never imagined there'd be a fool who'd actually go after the Tang Clan's bloodline."
"People sometimes act with their hearts instead of their heads, so it can't be helped. So, does that mean you believe not just me, but my story as well?"
"I'm not foolish enough to deny what I've seen with my own eyes. In that sense, is there anything else you'd like to say? I'm willing to believe everything now."
"There isn't… no, wait."
After catching my breath, I stepped forward.
"Never stand in front of me."
"Why not?"
"Because it's dangerous."
I'm still more accustomed to fighting alone than fighting alongside someone.
***
The fact that we could spot them with the naked eye meant, conversely, that they could see us too.
Before long, the ones who spotted us rushed quickly toward the cave entrance. Most of them were rabble at the Third-Rate to Second-Rate level, but a few were radiating a rather menacing Aura.
A burly man with a fierce look, an axe slung over his shoulder. A hunchback with abnormally long arms. A woman with heavy makeup and revealing clothes. And one assassin who hid his appearance but couldn't fully hide his Aura.
So about four first-rate martial artists. Adding in the rest of the rabble, that made nearly thirty people in total.
That was enough force to rival any decent Unorthodox Sect, but I didn't think Tang So-wol before her regression would have been unable to flee from them.
Back then, unlike now, she would have actively used her poison art and had plenty of hidden weapons. I'd heard there was definitely one more thing, but…
As I was racking my memory, a man in dark-red martial robes walked out from among them. The others parted ways on their own accord with each step he took.
"…Indeed. This will be a tough fight."
A body as gaunt as a dead tree. But his Aura was sharp, and his stride showed not a single trace of wavering.
An old saber hung at his waist, and oddly enough, a long scar ran across one side of his face, crossing over his eye.
The Aura I felt was likely at the early stage of Peak Realm. However, it was strangely unstable, suggesting he hadn't fully reached the Peak.
This was a common state among Unorthodox Sect martial artists whose internal energy was turbid and whose depth of Enlightenment was shallow. I knew it well, having once been such a half-baked opponent myself.
Of course, that didn't mean he was someone to underestimate. He might be lacking compared to others of the same rank, but there was no disputing that he was a bona fide Peak Realm master.
There was a reason these men, who would ordinarily only burn with vengeance in their minds and never dare to think of fighting the daughter of the Tang Clan, had risen up.
Clearly, that man was the focal point. They must have thought that no matter how promising a rising talent he was, a young man of twenty couldn't possibly defeat a Peak Realm martial artist.
The Hundred-Kill Blade Master, who had been silently watching me with his one remaining eye, spoke.
"I'll say this first. I have no intention of harming you. Our goal is only the daughter of the Tang Clan."
"Tsk. A life spent chasing an impossible goal. How pitiful."
My sneer drew no reaction from the Hundred-Kill Blade Master. He simply studied me from head to toe, then softened his Aura slightly and spoke.
"From the look of you, young brother, you're not a guard for the Tang Clan. Have you ever heard the alias Hundred-Kill Blade Master?"
"Not at all."
"That's fair. It was my master's alias, and he passed away over twenty years ago. Now I'm the one who claims it."
For the first time, the edge in the self-proclaimed Hundred-Kill Blade Master's voice softened.
"To be honest, my master wasn't a good man. He tested his martial arts on innocent commoners to make up for his lack of talent."
"Now I understand the origin of the alias. He was so dull that he needed to kill a hundred men before he could call himself a blade master—and his character was just as rotten."
"…I won't deny it. My master was a bastard of the highest order."
The Hundred-Kill Blade Master let out a snort and nodded, but before long, the longing in his eyes gave way to a blazing fervor.
"But… even so, he was my master."
"…"
"He gave me food when I was an orphan with no one in the world, gave me a place to sleep, became my family, and passed down every bit of his martial art, learned through blood and sweat."
Anger pressed down and bottled up. That heat, threatening to burn even the man himself, must be the privilege of the avenger.
"The Tang Clan called my master a villain and dared to say they would make him pay for the atrocities he committed in Sichuan Province."
I kill those who try to kill me. I had lived by that simple principle alone, yet the Karmic Debt of the martial world weighed heavily upon me.
"So my master gagged me and cut out one of my eyes. So that I would be seen not as his disciple, but as a commoner he had kidnapped. So that I could survive."
There is no such thing as a perfectly evil person in this world. No matter how heinous someone is, they are still someone's family, someone's friend, someone's lover.
"Even as I watched my master be brutally murdered before my eyes, I had to bow my head and thank his killer. Because that was the only way I could survive. Because that was what my master wanted."
He is no different. His master died, so he seeks revenge. What a simple and just reason that is.
"I know. I know that my master was the one at fault, and that the Tang Clan did the right thing. …But even knowing that, the thousand fires burning in my chest refuse to go out."
I am no different either. Even if she does not remember me, I raise my sword to protect the woman I hold in my heart. Who would dare condemn me for that?
"So step aside, young brother. I do not know what kind of man you are, but surely you too have people you hold dear, and people who hold you dear. I do not wish to create more men like me."
A proposal so pure it borders on naive. I cannot speak for others, but that man is clearly speaking from the heart. Perhaps he is someone far removed from being a villain.
But it does not matter. When two martial artists who have drawn their swords have no intention of backing down, there is ultimately only one thing left to do.
I turned around to see Tang So-wol watching me with anxious eyes. I glanced at her.
Sreung.
I drew my sword. Just that alone sharpened my mind, and what needed to be done became clear.
"I appreciate the offer, but I refuse. I have my own reasons."
"…I see."
I took a step forward toward the Hundred-Kill Blade Master, who nodded heavily. Tang So-wol, on the other hand, took a step back, hiding her hands within her wide sleeves.
The Tang Clan's unique stance, making it difficult to tell when a hidden weapon might be launched. At this, the others behind the Hundred-Kill Blade Master drew their weapons in unison.
In an instant, the atmosphere turned hostile. Under the pressure of an attack that could come crashing down at the slightest provocation, I swung my sword.
Swoosh!
A single line drawn on the floor, a short distance from my feet.
"Cross this line, and you die."
The moment those words ended, a dagger came flying through the gaps between the branches.
Whiiish-!
The blade was painted black to hide even the glint of reflected light… but the killer intent behind it couldn't be concealed, making its trajectory plainly visible.
I swung my sword toward the dagger flying precisely at the center of my brow. The blades clashed, sending up small sparks, but neither was deflected away.
That was because I pulled my sword back in time with the dagger's speed, twisting it slightly to distort its trajectory.
The dagger followed the sword like it was stuck to it, guided by the Mystery of Flow. I spun in place, and the blade returned along its original trajectory at the same speed it had come.
"Cough!"
A short death rattle, and the man in black fell from the tree. His own dagger was embedded in his chest, his neck snapped.
A wave of shock poured out from all directions. Even Tang So-wol had frozen in place, and I couldn't help but curl my lips into a grin.
"Of course, even if you don't come over, you'll die."