North Sea Martial Arts Warrior - Chapter 70

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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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70. The Sword Cannot Be Drawn.

The spring road stretched long and open.
Cheok Mu-yeong and his party urged their horses toward Hwa-san.
Already the fourth day… The grass along the roadside lay short, and the sunlight was lukewarm. The crowing of roosters from the village they’d passed yesterday still lingered in their ears.
A peaceful journey.
“Brother, where does this road end?”
Cheok Ha-rin poked her head out from the carriage and asked.
The unfamiliar meadows fascinated her. Everything was a new world.
“It leads all the way to Hwa-san.”
“What does Hwa-san look like?”
“Rocks stand up like swords. A treacherous mountain.”
Cheok Mu-yeong answered tersely, eyes fixed ahead.
“Like swords? Really?”
“I went there when I was young, but it seems you don’t remember.”
“Is that so?”
Cheok Ha-rin spoke with a bright smile.
The Attendant and Maidservant laughed softly at the sight.
“The young lady is acting like a child again.”
“You! Are you teasing me?”
“Not teasing, miss—simply stating fact.”
The Maidservant lowered her voice as she spoke.
The Guard Warriors had relaxed their shoulders too. After days on the same road, it was only natural. No one sensed danger ahead.
The spring sun lay lightly on their shoulders.

Far off at the foot of the mountain.
One shadow was slightly darker than the others.
Two men stood at the edge of a rock’s shade. One of them kept his gaze fixed on Cheok Ha-rin’s face, unmoving.
The corner of the Man in Gray Clothes’ mouth rose.
His Subordinate caught sight of that expression and drew a sharp breath.

“Brother, that rock over there looks like a tiger.”
Cheok Ha-rin pointed, raising her hand. The Maidservant covered her mouth and laughed.
“Doesn’t it look like the tiger’s sitting on a horse?”
The Attendant chimed in from beside her.
Cheok Mu-yeong relaxed his mouth slightly, still facing forward. Was she enjoying herself that much? It was just a plain rock—he saw neither tiger nor horse.
“Does every passing rock look like a tiger to you?”
He answered as if teasing her.
“Half a day’s journey remains to the next village.”
A Guard Warrior reported from beside him.
“Slow our pace. There’s no urgency anyway, and if it costs us a day, we’ll take it leisurely.”
Cheok Mu-yeong smiled, watching his sister marvel at the world around her.
“Understood.”
The Guard Warrior answered curtly and withdrew.

The two men at the mountain’s foot watched the procession of Martial Artists intently.
The earthy smell from the mountain drifted faintly up through the grass blades.
The Man in Gray Clothes opened his mouth.
“I have to have that woman.”
His Subordinate looked at him.
“It’s too dangerous. She’s the daughter of Heaven’s Greatest Swordsman.”
His eyes would not leave Cheok Ha-rin’s profile. The rumor of the Greatest Beauty of Central Plains had proven true—this fact alone had carved itself into his gaze.
“The rumors aren’t lies, then.”
He let the words slip as if muttering to himself. His Subordinate’s protests never reached his ears.
“If I get her pregnant, I’ll have to take her as a wife. Then I could inherit Heaven’s Greatest Swordsman’s art too. This is heaven-sent fortune.”
Fantasy spread its branches. The Subordinate’s jaw tightened.
“What about Cheok Mu-yeong? Men like us can’t even get close to him.”
The subordinate was trying to talk sense.
“He’s the Inspector General. The Inspector General of the Murim Alliance. If his sister were violated, he’d kill half the world and call it even.”
“So?”
“Forget Cheok Mu-yeong—he has guards besides. There’s no way.”
“No way? There’s always a way.”
The man ran his tongue across his lips.
His hand grasped his sword, then released it. Those drunk on their own designs never see beyond the frame. That was him now.
He lowered his voice and spoke with finality.
“We use the Dark Soul Scheme.”
The subordinate asked briefly.
“You’re really going through with it?”
“Quiet. Heaven’s handed us this chance!”
Seven words—a decision made.
The conspiracy had found its name. The Dark Soul Scheme. A plot that bound shadow and spirit.
“Go!”
“You’re really doing this?”
“I said the Dark Soul Scheme. We try it, and if it fails, we flee.”
“Madness! We won’t die natural deaths. I’ll go ahead and stake out the location.”
“Those bastards will rest at Nogunjjeom. The owner, old No, is already in my pocket.”
“The Mi-hon-yak?”
“Used it before? Why the questions?”
“Should we dissolve it in the tea, or the food?”
“Fast and clean. In the tea. And also in the food. They’re too strong otherwise. The food gets only a boost. There can’t be any mistakes. Understand?”
“If we slip up here, my head rolls too.”
The shadow left the mountainside and descended to the road below.

A modest inn stood by the roadside.
A sign reading “Nogunjjeom” and run by the No family swayed in the wind. Two men sat across from each other at an inner table. Two of his subordinates.
“Today?”
The owner asked in a hushed voice.
One subordinate wordlessly placed a pouch resembling a fragrance sachet on the table.
The smell of cooking oil and liquor drifted from the kitchen.
The owner reached for the pouch with trembling hands.
“If this works, then my family will really be…”
“Don’t ask. You know nothing about this. Just do as you always do.”
“…Yes, I understand.”
The owner hesitated a moment, then nodded. The bargain was struck.
“…Please don’t let blood stain my hands.”
“Blood? It’s just one woman. We touch a girl and it’s done. When has the Flower-Colored Gentleman ever killed anyone?”
“Just… one more thing. Which household does the lady belong to…?”
“You don’t need to know. From here on, you truly know nothing.”
“Yes, I understand.”
The owner nodded. He didn’t even know exactly who he was serving or what he was about to do.

As the sun began to set, the party reached Nogunjjeom.
“Nogunjjeom? Brother, I’ve never seen an inn like this. So this is what a roadside inn looks like.”
Cheok Ha-rin gazed curiously at the weathered sign.
“For those traveling far, it’s a useful place. A cheap night’s rest.”
Cheok Mu-yeong entered without suspicion.
The smell of tea reached his nose first. The owner greeted the party with excessive courtesy, more than other innkeepers.
“Welcome, welcome. I’ll show you to a table inside.”
“Two at front, two at rear.”
Cheok Mu-yeong issued a brief two-part order.
“Yes.”
The guard warriors split into pairs, taking positions at the entrance and inside.
The attendant wiped Cheok Ha-rin’s cup beforehand.
The owner’s gestures—more solicitous than usual. Yet suspicion never came. On peaceful days, we see only peaceful hands.

In the kitchen, the subordinate dissolved a handful of black powder into the tea kettle. Then he stirred it with his hand.
A faint smell of powder rose and then faded.
“You mixed it into the food too?”
“Mixed it in. We didn’t have enough, so just a little.”
Another subordinate answered briefly.
The powder lost its color inside the tea. The Mi-hon-yak dissolved precisely into the liquid. It melded completely, becoming indistinguishable from the tea itself.

The dishes arrived in sequence.
A bowl of broth, a plate of steamed dumplings, and a pot of tea were set down.
“Dumplings, brother!”
Cheok Ha-rin’s face lit up at the sight of the steaming dumplings—a look Cheok Mu-yeong had never seen from her before.
“First time eating dumplings on the road? They’ll taste quite different from what you’re used to at home.”
Cheok Mu-yeong answered curtly.
The attendant set a small cup before Cheok Mu-yeong and stepped back.
Cheok Ha-rin bit into a dumpling and smiled softly.
“It’s delicious!”
“Eat slowly. The dumplings aren’t running away.”
Cheok Mu-yeong replied.
“You should eat too, brother.”
“I am.”
“The broth is warm. The tea is good. Everything tastes wonderful. Pour me another cup of tea.”
The maidservant beside her picked up the pot and poured into the cup. She tasted it first herself, only then pouring it into Cheok Ha-rin’s cup.
This was the custom long observed in martial families like Cheon Geom Mun.
“The tea is excellent, Miss,” the maidservant reported softly.

The guards at other tables began eating as if famished. Since they’d left the capital and entered the mountainous terrain, inns had become scarce.

The maidservant’s cup fell from her hand first. It slipped from her grasp and spilled across the table.
“…Miss, I apologize.”
Those were the last words that left her lips.
Her eyes clouded over, and she slumped against the chair, losing consciousness.
“Chan-a!”
Cheok Ha-rin called out to the maidservant, but there was no answer.
Another attendant saw what was happening and tried to rise, only to collapse as well.
A guard warrior jumped to his feet. But his knees buckled even as he reached for his sword. Another fell after him. A third man’s head dropped forward while still seated.
The poison moved methodically through them, claiming each body in turn.

Cheok Mu-yeong’s hand went to his sword hilt.
“Mi-hon-yak!”
“…Mi-hon-yak?”
Cheok Ha-rin set down her cup. Her hands went rigid.
“Vomit what you’ve eaten. Breathe deeply.”
He spoke low and urgent.
Only then did the word Mi-hon-yak take shape in his mind. Of course. They’d been ambushed at this inn.
Under normal circumstances, it would have been impossible. But his guard had melted away the moment his sister set foot in the world for the first time.
He examined his own body from within.
The source of the dizziness was unmistakable.
The last guard warrior fell like a rotting tree, his sword half-drawn.
“Ha-rin,” he called to his sister quietly.
“…I understand, brother.”
“Lower your Dan-jeon. Deep.”
“I’m doing it.”
Cheok Mu-yeong watched the set of his sister’s shoulders and the rhythm of her breathing with steady attention.
“Don’t waver… just keep going.”
“…Yes.”
Cheok Ha-rin clenched her teeth and answered.
Cheok Mu-yeong did not rise from his seat. He could have drawn his blade immediately and gone straight for the kitchen. But that path meant leaving his sister alone.
He chose protection instead.
Whoosh!
His True Qi suppressed the poison’s venom. But how long could he hold it back?

Cheok Ha-rin’s brow creased.
Vertigo rose from deep within her chest.
As if wielding the Yeon-hwan Sam-geom… she gathered her Internal Power and steadied her breathing. The first layer of the Mi-hon-yak pushed back. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead.
“I can endure this.”
She spoke tersely to Cheok Mu-yeong.
“The Mi-hon-yak drags you from perfect clarity into unconsciousness in a heartbeat. Clench your teeth. Bite your tongue. Focus on the pain.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Cheok Mu-yeong watched his sister’s lips turn pale, his own brow tightening.
His sister, once as guileless as a child, had become a Martial Artist in the face of attack. She drew her Internal Power steadily, resisting the Mi-hon-yak with composed determination.
‘The Seol-ryeon-gwa must be helping…’
The Seol-ryeon-gwa his sister had taken possessed a resistance that repelled substances harmful to the body. It warded off poisons—and the Mi-hon-yak as well.
It would be more accurate to say that Ha-rin’s endurance so far stemmed not purely from Internal Power, but from the Seol-ryeon-gwa. But how long could she last?
‘Show yourself. Quickly. We need to end this.’
The two straightened their backs.
“Elder brother, someone’s coming.”
“I know. Don’t think about it—focus on your True Qi!”
“Yes.”
“No matter what happens, stay exactly where you are.”
“…Yes.”
“The door’s opening. Wait.”
Cheok Ha-rin drew more Internal Power up from her Dan-jeon.
Cheok Mu-yeong kept one hand on his sword hilt and regulated his breathing. The Mi-hon-yak’s effect surged like a tidal wave. His head spun violently.
The inn door trembled slightly.
Then the Man in Gray Clothes stepped inside. His footfalls sounded lighter than usual. The spring air from outside drifted through the gap and faded away.
“See? This is how it goes.”
The picture he had drawn. The perfect image, rendered exactly as he had conceived it.
He nudged the fallen Guard Warrior with his foot.
The Guard Warrior did not stir.
His gaze shifted to Cheok Ha-rin. The corners of his mouth lifted.
“Still holding out. How fitting for a lady of Cheon Geom Mun. Kee-kee-kee!”
He laughed to himself.
“But Cheok Mu-yeong’s still conscious?”
The Subordinate who had followed him spoke quietly.
“So? What of it? The moment he moves, his True Qi will surge and he’ll lose consciousness. Those two… they’re already in the palm of my hand.”
For the first time, he turned his gaze to Cheok Mu-yeong.
Cheok Mu-yeong’s hand rested firmly on his sword hilt—the posture of one ready to draw at any instant.
“That one looks dangerous, doesn’t he? Kee-kik! Looks like he’s planning something. In a situation like this, well… waiting works just fine. Time’s on my side. I’ll have some tea and wait. Kee-kik!”
He sat down in a chair.

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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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