Return of the Sword Emperor - Chapter 13

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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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Chapter 5: Sarim (3)

“It’s begun.”

Im Sang, cutting off retreat routes as he headed toward the battlefield, caught the sound of cursing and the sharp ring of metal clashing—confirmation that the fighting had started.

“It seems we’ve drawn them deeper than expected.”

Im Je gauged the distance roughly, then spoke with evident satisfaction.

“Good. Once we eliminate those idiots quickly and pull back, this commission will be a spectacular success.”

Seven members had fallen into the trap. If they managed to eliminate every last one of them, an enormous sum—seventy taels of gold—would fall into their hands.
Even if the attack failed, it didn’t matter.

‘A single kill would be enough for a full year’s living.’

Of course, he had no intention of settling for so modest a return.

“We should hurry a bit more.”
“Ha! After all, they’re caught in the poison…….”

Im Sang, mid-laugh, suddenly threw himself flat and dragged Im Je down with him.
Clamping his hand over Im Je’s mouth, Im Sang shot a sharp glance to the subordinates standing uncertainly nearby, signaling them to hide immediately.

“Someone’s coming this way.”

Im Sang pointed to the forest on the left, tension etched across his face.
True to his words, someone was approaching rapidly.
Despite tearing through undergrowth so dense it was choked with brush and tangled growth, the speed was extraordinary.
The figure was running not along the ground but through the air itself.
Bounding off the vegetation as if skipping across it—the Chosang Bi, the highest level of lightfoot technique!
The speed was so tremendous that the eyes could scarcely follow it.
Im Sang’s face hardened like stone.
He had been reassured by the pathetic reconnaissance of their target, but the sudden appearance of a master capable of performing the Chosang Bi was an unforeseen variable he’d never accounted for.
Yet the figure that emerged from the forest vanished in an instant.
When Im Sang confirmed that the direction in which he’d disappeared was precisely where his subordinates lay in ambush, he fell into troubled thought.

‘Our eyes definitely met for just a moment.’

Brief as it was, the eye contact had been unmistakable. The hair on his forearms, bristling taut, was proof of it. And instinct was screaming a warning.
Contact meant death.

* * *

‘So there was an ambush on this side too.’

Even as Dokgo Jin moved with the speed of a bird, he did not miss the hiding place of Im Sang’s group. Yet since he could not determine the situation of the Bokma-dan members caught in the ambush, he pressed forward without stopping.
Eliminating enemies was important, but minimizing casualties among the Bokma-dan was far more critical.
Dokgo Jin’s judgment was sound.
Though the Bokma-dan had belatedly sensed the enemy’s ambush, they were not adequately prepared, and the surprise attack plunged them into crisis.
Yet the Bokma-dan, the elite of Jeongmu-maeng, possessed formidable martial prowess.
More than twenty assassins of the Gwisalgak unleashed a barrage of hidden weapons from all directions, yet the Bokma-dan repelled them with surprisingly minimal losses.
The problem lay with the two who had inhaled the poison.
Poisoned, they could barely maintain control of their bodies, and in protecting them, the Bokma-dan’s overall combat strength naturally weakened.
Yet they were able to hold their ground thanks to Man Gyun’s prowess.
Man Gyun’s performance—reassuring panicked comrades, securing their safety, and confronting the assassins who rushed forward like demons—was nothing short of extraordinary.
Not even half a moment had passed since the attack began when twelve assassins had fallen, and seven of them had been killed by Man Gyun’s hand alone.
Yet in his efforts to slay the assassins and save his comrades, Man Gyun himself had sustained considerable wounds in the process.
In particular, Dan Hong Gyung, deputy commander of the Second Bureau, used his subordinates as bait and launched a coordinated assault, leaving deep wounds on Man Gyun’s chest and thigh.
Dokgo Jin arrived at the battlefield just before Man Gyun, whose movements had slowed drastically due to the thigh wound, suffered a fatal blow from Dan Hong Gyung’s attack.

“Keh-heh-heh! Die!”

It was the moment when Dan Hong Gyung, who had lost an arm to Man Gyun’s counterattack, twisted his mouth in a grotesque grin and drove a blade thin as a skewer toward Man Gyun’s heart.
Screeeee!
A blade whistled across the battlefield with a chilling sound.
Dan Hong Gyung flinched in terror as the sword hurtled toward him, twisting his body out of its path.
The blade grazed past Dan Hong Gyung’s nape and pierced through the chest of an assassin who had been hiding behind Yi Cheon-hu, about to strike.

“Gack!”

At the sudden cry from behind, Yi Cheon-hu’s head snapped around.
His eyes caught the sight of an assassin collapsing, panic-stricken.

‘Who…?’

The answer came at once.
A figure leapt over the hunched form of Man Gyun.

‘Dokgo Jin!’

The monstrous newcomer who had brought shame not only upon himself but upon the Bokma-dan itself.
That unlucky face had never looked more welcome.
Dan Hong Gyung had no time to stanch the blood trickling down his nape—he immediately unleashed Hidden Weapons.
Five poison-tipped darts cut through the air at Dokgo Jin.
Dokgo Jin twisted his body slightly and swept his arm once, neutralizing all five darts in a single motion.
Landing on the ground, Dokgo Jin drove straight into Dan Hong Gyung’s guard.
Dan Hong Gyung, his face drained of color, tried desperately to evade, but Dokgo Jin’s speed was overwhelming.
Thud!
A dull, heavy impact.
Dan Hong Gyung’s limp body flew three lengths and crashed into the earth.
There was no scream.
The moment Dokgo Jin’s knee shattered his jaw, Dan Hong Gyung’s consciousness simply severed.
Having dispatched Dan Hong Gyung in an instant, Dokgo Jin immediately moved to find the next assassin.

“Gack!”
“Argh!”

One cry after another.
Each time Dokgo Jin moved, the assassins fell helplessly, unable to mount any real resistance.

“R-run! Scatter!”

At someone’s shout, the assassins—already gripped by terror—bolted without looking back.
But the Bokma-dan had no intention of letting their enemies escape; those enemies had aimed at their lives and the lives of their comrades.
Yi Cheon-hu and Hong Yu-gwan, exhausted and covered in wounds from protecting the poison-stricken Baek Tak and Jeon Cho, unleashed the Noh Ho Sung technique and pursued the assassins.
In the end, not a single assassin who had attacked the Bokma-dan managed to escape.
They were all killed by Milgeom-dan members who came rushing to the battlefield.

“Are you all right?”

Yu Seol-ran asked, her face etched with concern.
Man Gyun, binding the wound on his thigh, let out a bitter smile and nodded.

“I can manage.”
“Who were they?”

Yu Seol-ran prodded the body of a dead assassin with her foot, still in a crouch, and asked.

“We’ll need to confirm it, but I suspect it’s rather obvious.”
“Obvious?”
“The ones who attacked the escort convoy headed to Chamhoe Pavilion. They were acting under Madoryun’s orders, I’d wager.”

At the mention of Madoryun, Yu Seol-ran’s brow creased.

“It seems he has no intention of letting the prisoner pass through unmolested.”
“As the Protector of Madoryun, this is the most significant prisoner bound for Chamhoe Pavilion in recent years. Still, there’s no need to worry overmuch. The Amhyang-dae operatives have their eyes peeled, watching Madoryun’s every move, so his men won’t dare act too openly. These rabble they sent — that’s proof enough of his constraints.”

Man Gyun rose slowly to his feet, his features twisting as pain flooded back into him.

“Had Madoryun laid an ambush himself, we’d never have stood face to face like this.”

‘If we’d only conducted proper reconnaissance, we wouldn’t have found ourselves in such a dire predicament.’
Yu Seol-ran, having accurately assessed the attackers’ capabilities while dispatching the fleeing assassins, forced down the words that had risen to her throat.
Man Gyun, catching the bitter knowledge in her measured gaze, wore an embarrassed expression.

“Captain, are you all right?”

Yi Cheon-hu approached with a weary face, having surveyed the team and assessed the damage.

“I’m fine. What about the rest? Those who took poison?”
“Fortunately, none of them are in mortal danger. However…….”

Seeing Yi Cheon-hu’s expression, Man Gyun felt a chill and raised his voice.

“What is it? Speak.”
“Baek… Baek Tak took a dart.”

Yi Cheon-hu lowered his gaze.

“What are you saying? I know he was wounded, but he was alive just moments ago.”
“The wound was more severe than it appeared. He lost too much blood…….”

Yi Cheon-hu could not bring himself to finish.

“Ah……”

Man Gyun exhaled a deep sigh, unable to bear the weight of regret and despair.
Yu Seol-ran, watching him wrestle with guilt, withdrew slightly.
As she stood there awkwardly, finding no words of comfort, Woo Gon approached—the Bokma-dan operative who had been helping to clear the battlefield.

“Captain, we’ve finished tidying up.”

Yu Seol-ran nodded lightly, her eyes sweeping over the gathered corpses of the assassins.

“No prisoners, it seems.”
“There was one wounded, but he cut his own throat before we could do anything.”
“I should have kept at least one of them alive for questioning.”
“The situation was what it was. No helping it now. We’ll have to rely on Dokgo Jin.”

At Dokgo Jin’s name, Man Gyun, who had been despondent, lifted his head sharply.

“Now that I think of it, I don’t see that friend anywhere. I should at least thank him—where did he go?”
“He mentioned there were some who slipped past on the way here. He went after them.”

Yu Seol-ran’s expression was not pleasant as she spoke.
Dokgo Jin had made his announcement unilaterally and vanished before she could say a word in response.

“They say he carries himself like a leader.”

Woo Gon, who had been about to defend Dokgo Jin, closed his mouth quietly the moment he caught the sharp edge in Yu Seol-ran’s gaze.

* * *

“Gahhk!”
“Nngh!”

At the succession of death cries echoing behind him, Im Sang’s face hardened into a rigid mask.

‘I should have fled at once.’

Watching Dokgo Jin closing the distance at a terrifying pace, Im Sang felt the sting of deep regret—he should have trusted his instinct and run the moment they first met, rather than hesitate to confirm the ambush’s results. Greed had blinded him, and now death itself was at his heels.
He glanced at Im Je beside him, paralyzed by fear and running in blind panic, and realized the moment for a final choice had arrived.

Im Sang had stopped twenty paces back.
The moment Im Je halted, Im Sang’s voice rang out sharp and resolute.

“Father!”
“Entrust Gwisalgak to you.”

The Grim Reaper closing in would never be satisfied with his life alone. Without buying time, his son’s life was forfeit too.

Even if Gwisalgak was merely a third-rate sect, it held traditions as its master, and revealing a client’s identity was unthinkable.
Im Sang recalled the middle-aged man who had commissioned the work. On the surface, he had nothing to do with Madoryun, yet from the moment he’d accepted the commission, Im Sang had inferred the connection.

“It doesn’t matter. I have no desire to know.”

At Dokgo Jin’s indifferent tone, Im Sang’s eyelids twitched.

‘I must buy as much time as possible.’

Now, having accepted death, the killing intent that radiated from Im Sang’s entire being was sharper than it had ever been.

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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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