North Sea Martial Arts Warrior - Chapter 7

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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7. The Trap Within the Mirror

Crack!
The blast shook the ground beneath their feet.
Ice Fang Valley.
The fiercest breath of the Northern Sea keened through this place.
Sheer cliffs rose on both sides, jagged as the fangs of some primordial beast, their edges interlocked so tightly that wind screaming through the gap shrieked like the dying. Here, Ice Thunder Blasts detonated in rapid succession.
“It’s a trap.”
Taikan’s voice cut low as he hurled himself forward.
The shock wave from the explosion drove all five of them sprawling in different directions.
“Clan leader!”
Garkan whirled his Iron Chain, batting aside fragments of rock as he planted himself between the debris and Airak.
Yet Airak didn’t flinch. His gaze remained fixed on the cliff face above, where he sensed the killing intent that lurked within the darkness.
“There’s no time to dodge. The trap is already sprung.”
The ground rumbled.
An avalanche cut off their retreat. And immediately after, a second calamity began.
Screech. Screeeech.
Enormous pillars of ice erupted from the ground beneath them.
Dozens, hundreds of them—transparent, their surfaces polished smooth as mirrors.
The Ice Mirror Realm.
Everything around them had become glass.
Their reflections multiplied into thousands. There was no way to tell where the path lay and where the walls stood.
“Welcome, Martial Warriors. You have come to your tomb.”
A voice echoed from the void. Han-a, leader of the Bing Xue Dan.
Taikan’s fingers settled on his bowstring.
“The Ice Mirror Realm. Even Bing Gong forbids it as a secret technique. Once this is unleashed, this land becomes a wasteland of death for a decade to come. There’s only one way out—destroy every pillar.”
“So you do know a thing or two? Anything else I should learn?”
Harku asked.
“It distorts light, warping vision. The wind currents are twisted too. Everything becomes an illusion.”
“So your bow is useless then.”
“Half right, half wrong.”
Taikan closed his eyes.
There was no trace of panic on his face. If anything, the corners of his mouth curved upward slightly.
“I can’t read the wind, but I can read the vibrations.”
He kicked off his shoes.
The moment his bare soles touched the ice, his expression shifted.
“Three. Left side, three paces. Two are circling behind the mirrors, and one is hanging from the ceiling.”
“Are you a ghost?”
“No. In truth, blind archers shoot well. With proper training. I only trained for about three years.”
“…That’s insane.”
“I’ll take it as a compliment.”
Harku let out a sharp laugh.
His eyes rolled back. The whites flushed crimson, his pupils contracting to pinpricks.
“Just give me their positions. The rest is my work.”
A sharp whistle.
An assassin burst from within the mirror.
The strike came from behind Harku, threading perfectly through the gap where light refracted—a flawless ambush. The assassin’s lips curved into a smile. Success. But Harku had already turned to face him.
“Too slow, you rat.”
The assassin’s eyes went wide.
How? The angle was impossible to see.
“I can hear your heartbeat.”
A sharp ring.
The Twin Fang Blade split the assassin’s throat.
Before the head had even hit the ice, Harku was already charging toward the second assassin.
Blood sprayed across the mirrors. Crimson stains spread through the maze of glass.
“Good. Now I can see where you’re hiding.”
Harku’s nostrils flared.
Blood. The scent jolted his senses fully awake.
“There’s no point running. I can see every bloodied footprint you’ve left.”
“A monster! It’s a monster!”
“Monster? I’m just a hungry dog. And you’re dinner.”
“Second: the ceiling. Third: five paces to the right.”
The moment Taikan spoke, Harku launched himself upward.
He scaled the mirror pillar, pushed off the wall, and rocketed vertically. The assassin hanging from the ceiling gasped in shock.
“How did you—”
“Quiet.”
The Twin Fang Blade pierced straight through the assassin’s chest.
He planted his feet against the ceiling and kicked off again, twisting mid-air to hurl himself at the assassin to the right.
“P-please… spare me…!”
The crack of a breaking neck.
Two corpses crashed to the floor.
“That’s three. What about the rest?”
“Nineteen left. Twelve are hiding below ground, seven moving behind the mirrors.”
Taikan nocked three ice arrows.
“I’ll handle the ones on the move.”
He raised his bow with his eyes closed.
Vibrations rippling through his soles—he had reached the point where sound alone guided him to his enemies.
Twang! Twang! Twang!
Three arrows streaked through the spaces between mirrors.
They did not strike the glass. They found the gaps with perfect precision, the arrows embedding themselves in the throats of the hidden assassins.
“Gack!”
“The arrows curved! How are you hitting anything with your eyes shut—”
“If I can’t read the wind, I read the vibrations. If I can’t read the vibrations, I listen to their breath.”
Taikan spoke with calm certainty.
“Darkness like this is nothing.”
“The basement is yours, hunchback.”
“Understood.”
Arko pressed his palm against the floor.
Even without shadows, he had other methods.
“Shadow Treading isn’t the only art of assassination.”
His gaze turned sharp and cold.
“Toxic Smoke.”
Black vapor coiled from his hand. In that instant, it seeped through the cracks in the floor and descended into the basement below.
“Gack! What is this stench!”
“It’s poison! Hold your breath!”
The assassins shrieked and bolted upward.
But it was already too late. Even a single breath of the Toxic Smoke seized the muscles.
“There they are.”
Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!
Three assassins collapsed, poison darts lodged in their necks.
The remaining nine tried to retreat.
“Running only makes it worse.”
Arko flicked his finger.
Click.
An assassin mid-flight convulsed and dropped.
“The faster your heart beats, the faster the poison spreads. Stay still. Move and you die.”
“H-help…!”
The remaining assassins froze.
Arko approached them slowly, driving a poison dart into each assassin’s throat, one by one.
Meanwhile,
“Monstrous strength! Keep your distance!”
“Throw the chains!”
More Iron Chains flew through the air, but Garkan did not flinch. In fact, the more the chains pulled taut, the wider his smile grew.
“Much obliged. You’ve just told me exactly where you are.”
“What? What are you saying!”
Crash!
Garkan seized the Iron Chain and yanked it with all his strength.
Four Assassins flew up into the air.
“Aaaaagh!”
Garkan swung the Iron Chain, shattering three mirror pillars in succession. Then he descended upon the Assassins.
The remaining two tried to flee.
Garkan hurled the Iron Chain.
Clang!
The crack of breaking necks echoed through the air.
“If you want to lay a hand on my chieftain, you’ll have to kill me first. If you can’t manage that, get out.”

* * *

“Master! They’re counterattacking!”
One Assassin cried out in panic.
“Three dead on Taikan’s side!”
“Harku took down four!”
“Arko’s side too! Four more!”
“Garkan crushed three!”
Han-a’s face drained of all color.
Half of the twenty-three had vanished in an instant.
“No… they were supposed to be trapped, and yet…?”
“Master! What do we do!”
“Shut up! Go for Airak! Kill him and this is over!”
Han-a ground his teeth together.
Those four are strong. But Airak hasn’t lifted a finger yet. If the leader dies, the followers scatter. Isn’t that the first rule of assassination?
“Send all remaining men at Airak!”
As the order fell, the twelve surviving Assassins charged at Airak as one.
Whoosh! Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!
The sound of ice cracking rang out, and mirror-bright ice walls rose up on all sides. A barrier of frozen ice unfolded like a prison, locking the four of them inside.
“Chieftain!”
Taikan cried out.
The four of them couldn’t breach the layered ice walls all at once. They couldn’t reach Airak. But they weren’t worried. There was no one in this world who could stand against Airak. Still, since Airak himself had to move, they could only offer their regrets.
Airak spoke softly.
“Don’t worry. What can a few insects do?”
From within the mirrors, from the floor, from the ceiling—twelve Assassins rushed toward Airak.
Airak walked forward.
Through the center of explosions and blood and screams, as if nothing were amiss at all.
Whoosh!
An Assassin’s blade touched Airak’s neck. Or so he thought.
Clang!
A clear, ringing note of metal.
The Short Sword bounced away. The Assassin’s wrist snapped back.
“Gyaaaaah!”
A sound like something had been struck—no, the Curved Blade had already moved.
“Keep going. You’re rather cute when you play around like this.”
Airak spoke softly.
The Assassins attacked again.
Airak’s eyes swept across them. Those cold, expressionless eyes.
“Keep trying.”
Airak took a step forward.
Crack-crack-crack!
All the mirror pillars within a ten-zhang radius fractured at once.
“Before my patience runs out.”
The Assassins couldn’t meet Airak’s gaze and stumbled backward, gripped by terror as if they’d encountered a beast.
Sweat beaded on Han-a’s brow as well.
The fear his subordinates felt was transmitted to him.
‘This is what a Martial Warrior truly is… damn it, I made a terrible mistake. I knew nothing of Martial Warriors. The legends were all wrong. This monster… he’s a god of death that should never be engaged.’
“Do you really think you can escape?”
The corner of Airak’s mouth twisted.
“Did you truly believe you could attack me and walk out alive?”
Whoooooosh…!
The air itself screamed.
White frost bloomed around Airak’s body. The illusion of a house-sized ice wolf gaped its jaws behind him.
“Kill him! If we don’t kill him, we die!”
Han-a shrieked.
The remaining assassins threw themselves forward in a final, desperate charge.
And then… it began.
A flash that froze the ice wall even harder, smoke that flowed like a phantom.
Elite assassins… demons of the Bing Xue Dan who had seen every battle under heaven… were swept away like fallen leaves caught in a gale.
Thwack! Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!
Six to eight strikes per target, minimum… neck, chest, lungs, back… blood fountaining from all directions… the moment a shadow flicked past, flesh erupted.
The legend of the Martial Warrior is true.
“Couldn’t you leave a few alive for interrogation? If they won’t talk, we can always crush it out of them.”
“Not necessary.”
Airak shook his head.
“There’s nothing to ask. I already know who sent them.”
“Bing Gong?”
Taikan asked.
“Yes.”
“Then this trap as well…?”
“The Ice Mirror Realm is a secret art of Bing Gong. It couldn’t have leaked outside.”
Airak’s eyes gleamed with cold light.
“There’s a traitor within.”
Four wolves gathered around Airak.
Drenched in blood, yet their eyes burned sharp. Even caught in a trap, they showed no sign of panic. Truthfully, an attack like this… compared to the assaults of Ice Demons and Ice Masters, it was child’s play.

* * *

“I’ve made a terrible mistake…”
Han-a muttered to himself.
“My Lord! What do we do!”
“Silence! Let me think!”
Ten thousand gold coins were not the issue. It felt like he’d opened the gates of hell with his own hands.
“We must flee!”
“Flee? To where? Once that man starts investigating the Ice Mirror Realm… it’s only a matter of time before he comes for us.”
There… in the distance… Airak was visible.
In that moment, Han-a felt a bone-deep cold that froze his very marrow.
“Ah. I see. Nowhere to run. That man… he’s already figured us out. If it comes to this… maybe fighting is better? At least it’ll be quick. Heh! I’m losing my mind.”
Han-a murmured.
He understood now. This was Airak’s time. If he counterattacked… there would be no resistance, no escape. He had already mapped out every martial master of the Bing Xue Dan scattered across the terrain.
Was the counterattack coming?
Above the snowfield stained red with blood, five wolves’ fangs turned toward the hunter’s throat.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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