Chapter 63: War Is the Way of Deception (4)

Night-Heaven Hall safe house.

Henan Branch.

“How did it go.”

“There’s a reaction. And Number Seventeen seems to have betrayed us.”

“Doesn’t matter. That bastard has a parasitic poison planted in him anyway.”

It wasn’t planted only in Seol Yegang.

It was planted in every Night-Heaven Guest.

Only a single person—

Only the Night-Heaven Hall Lord, Byeoksa Gok, was the exception.

“The moment he tries to spill secrets, he’ll die. He knows that well.”

“...Yes.”

“And what about transferring that girl?”

“They say she’s on the way. She hasn’t arrived yet, but it seems she’ll reach us within three days.”

“Three days... that’s a brutal forced march.”

He wasn’t worried.

He was delighted.

Three days inside a jolting carriage.

They’d probably have to eat and drink in there, too.

The hardened Night-Heaven Guests would have no problem.

But an artificially crippled, sickly girl?

By the time she arrived, it was obvious she’d be so exhausted she couldn’t even resist.

‘I’d like to enjoy that bastard’s expression when he sees it.’

So he dared betray them?

Byeoksa Gok had always assumed it would happen someday, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t disgusting.

No—rather than disgusting, maybe pathetic was the word.

Good.

It had been quite a while since he’d shown a proper example of what betrayal earned.

If he killed both girls right in front of his eyes, he would learn.

What kind of place Night-Heaven Hall was.

And what kind of person Byeoksa Gok was.

But he didn’t know.

He didn’t know who was coming toward him.

A Night-Heaven Guest who had been guarding outside entered the inner room.

Then, kneeling on one knee, he asked in a trembling voice.

“Hall Lord. Were there any other Night-Heaven Guests scheduled to visit today?”

“What? There shouldn’t be.”

In the first place, Night-Heaven Hall’s safe houses were for them alone.

Even if someone was of Namgung, unless they were core members of the clan lord’s own household, they didn’t know the safe houses existed.

That was how secretive Namgung’s shadow group was.

“...Someone is walking straight toward this place.”

“What did you say?”

Byeoksa Gok frowned.

That couldn’t be.

The location of a safe house was impossible even to guess.

Even its very existence was not known.

“Is it Shaolin?”

“No. It’s a swordsman wearing a white silk outer robe that’s frayed to hell...”

“Are you sure he’s coming here?”

“He hasn’t entered the formation yet, but... yes.”

Byeoksa Gok clicked his tongue.

It had to be some chance passerby.

The instant he stepped into the formation, he’d lose his direction and wander out somewhere else.

That was what Byeoksa Gok thought—

And in that moment, a scream rang out from outside.

A voice he recognized.

One of his Night-Heaven Guests.

“Everyone, draw your blades!”

Byeoksa Gok drew the dark-iron curved sword from his back.

They’d been had.

A frontal assault on the lair of assassins whose specialty was ambush and infiltration?

This was what happened when you believed, absolutely, that the safe house could never be exposed.

‘Damn it—if it were Shaolin, we’d have been prepared from far off!’

He’d taken the intruder for a helpless traveler who’d simply lost his way.

From the scream, it seemed the formation had been broken through in an instant.

‘But how?’

Questions with no explanation flooded his mind.

Byeoksa Gok shook his head and flung the thought away.

Now wasn’t the time.

“Everyone, hide. The moment he comes in, strike together—an all-at-once ambush.”

“Yes!”

“Understood!”

“We receive the order!”

The three elites he kept closest nodded.

And Byeoksa Gok slipped into the shadows with them.

The men outside would be wiped out.

Even if Namgung was not as proficient in formations as the Jegal Clan—

Could you call it a “safe house” if you set a formation so flimsy it could be pierced this easily?

There were only two kinds of lunatics who would try to break in.

Either someone with internal power so overwhelming they could forcibly crush and rupture the formation—

Or someone who had stolen information from within.

But Byeoksa Gok could not—

He did not, at all, at all—

Imagine that the intruder would fit both.

*****

Shaolin, the abbot’s room.

Because Abbot Gwanggyeong had spread inner power to cut off sound, the surroundings felt muffled and heavy.

And in the silence, Gong-eop, Abbot Gwanggyeong, and Cheon Soyak were looking at Seol Yegang.

But he couldn’t open his mouth easily.

“First... there’s something I need to say.”

“Yes. Go ahead, benefactor.”

Abbot Gwanggyeong began brewing tea to ease the atmosphere.

A rich, fragrant scent quietly spread through the abbot’s room.

Only after Seol Yegang took a sip of the warm tea did he begin.

“First: for certain reasons, I cannot speak accurately and directly.”

Abbot Gwanggyeong’s brow twitched.

Then he drew a vast amount of bright, upright inner power of Prajna Great Ability into his eyes.

A capability earned through extreme cultivation of Prajna Great Ability.

The Heavenly Eye.

The power to see what cannot be seen with ordinary sight.

Gong-eop had it too—though not to Abbot Gwanggyeong’s level.

That was why he could drive out the killing intent that had seeped into Cheonjeong’s bones.

And what Abbot Gwanggyeong saw—

Was a horrific, dreadful sight.

“...Namo Amitabha. Benefactor... you have swallowed a parasitic poison.”

“It’s a measure to prevent me from exposing internal secrets. By evil arts, it has been branded to react to certain words.”

The suffering a parasitic poison inflicted went beyond imagination.

Even Gong-eop recited a Buddhist invocation, his face heavy with pain.

If it awakened, it would be safe to say death would not come cleanly.

“Amitabha... Then how do you intend to give us clues?”

“I’ll have to speak as indirectly as possible. With gestures. Even so, it should be enough. Because it’s a famous place.”

“...A famous place?”

Soyak asked back.

Seol Yegang nodded bitterly.

What he was about to speak of was Namgung’s shadow.

Night-Heaven Hall.

“Only the sun does not rise in the heavens.”

The parasitic poison inside him began to stir.

But it did not wake.

Because he had not spoken ‘that word’ clearly.

A prohibition laid in a complex, cunning way.

It did not react only to the words “Namgung Clan.”

Even “the ruling family of Anhui” made it stir.

Even “the greatest clan under heaven” made it stir.

They had bound nearly every imaginable phrasing into the prohibition.

“In the high heavens, the moon rises too. And even at night, there are guests who watch over the earth.”

Sun and moon—he meant the Sword Sovereign.

His dual nature.

The heavens—he meant Namgung.

And the guests who watched the earth at night.

Those were the Night-Heaven Guests.

“In broad daylight, the One-Under-Heaven Corps steps out. But at night, the guests move.”

At that point, Gong-eop and Abbot Gwanggyeong’s brows rose.

Connections formed.

The One-Under-Heaven Corps was the Alliance’s enforcement arm.

The martial world—and the Martial Alliance—were, in truth, under Namgung’s domination.

And he had clearly spoken of “the heavens.”

Across the Nine Provinces of the Central Plains, there was only one martial art that used “the heavens” as its symbol:

Namgung’s Sky-Vault Unfettered Sword.

“We were those guests.”

“...So you mean... an assassin group operated by the Namgung Clan...”

The parasitic poison writhed again at the words “Namgung Clan.”

Even though Seol Yegang himself hadn’t said them.

Seol Yegang felt it instinctively.

If he affirmed that statement, the parasitic poison would awaken.

“...I cannot answer.”

A clever evasion.

If it wasn’t, he could simply say it wasn’t.

When someone cannot bring themselves to say yes, they say they cannot answer.

When they must avoid a statement that harms them.

And what would harm Seol Yegang right now?

A statement that would awaken the parasitic poison.

That line had to be read as: I cannot say it’s true.

“...I see. Benefactor Seol Yegang, you may step out.”

Further conversation on this would be impossible.

Abbot Gwanggyeong sent Seol Yegang out.

Then he let out a pained breath.

“Haaah... Namo Amitabha....”

“Abbot—could he have been deceived?”

Gong-eop was shocked as well.

It seemed hard for him to believe.

Because the Martial Alliance had never once treated Shaolin unjustly.

“If what he said is true, it means the Namgung Clan condoned and overlooked all of this! Abbot!”

“Calm yourself, Gong-eop. I had long suspected there would be such a group.”

Abbot Gwanggyeong exhaled deeply.

Then he looked at Soyak with pitying eyes.

To be marked for death by the Namgung Clan—the greatest power—at such a young age.

It was pitiable beyond words.

“Benefactor Soyak.”

“Yes, Abbot.”

“Shaolin also has an organization called the Rakshasa Unit.”

Soyak blinked.

Rakshasa.

A being once called an evil demon—later revered as a guardian of the Buddhist faith.

“It is not so secret, either. It is an execution unit that tracks and digs out Shaolin’s Public Enemies. I will not deny it.”

“...Yes, Abbot.”

Gong-eop listened in silence.

The ones who kept the Killing Precept open at all times and carried iron staffs.

They were the Rakshasa Unit.

And an armed group like that likely existed in any mid-tier sect as well.

“So I believed there would be such groups elsewhere too. Organizations that quietly, secretly handle the unsavory work of great sects and clans... How could they not exist? It would be stranger if they did not.”

“...Abbot—are you saying you find them acceptable?”

Unable to endure it, Gong-eop spoke.

Abbot Gwanggyeong did not scold him—he shook his head.

“Shaolin’s Rakshasa Unit has never, not once, harmed a young and pitiable girl because she was ‘a threat’ to Shaolin.”

Light flashed in Abbot Gwanggyeong’s eyes.

Even as he spoke, his anger rose.

At those who did things beneath human.

And at this martial world they ruled.

“Even if she were the family of a Public Enemy who swore vengeance upon Shaolin.”

Abbot Gwanggyeong rose slowly from his seat.

His inner power still cut off sound.

“This is, unquestionably, wrong.”