Chapter 722: When Going Out, Maintain Your Dignity (16)

Veins bulged up on Youngban’s face like a demon’s.

The cords standing out all over his craggy face looked ready to burst at any moment.

“You—bitch—!”

Minor Water Witch, my ass.

Minor Water Witch, he says. As if it made any sense that, the moment the signal flute cut off, the Minor Water Witch would suddenly show up right there, butcher his men, and run. If you want someone to at least pretend to doubt, you need to put in the effort to make up a believable lie.

Of course, the vanguard squad that didn’t know Qing had stolen the signal flute could only gape at the sudden appearance of the “Minor Water Witch” and think, How can something like this even happen?

But to Youngban, who had been chasing Qing the whole way, that Minor Water Witch act didn’t land at all.

On top of that, Youngban had watched with his own eyes what was being done to his men, so it was only natural his rage would swell up and explode into sheer murderous fury.

“I’ll fucking kill you!!”

Youngban cut straight between his subordinates, a harsh wind screaming as he shot past and away.

“Youngban! You must calm yourself!”

One of the rear-squad members streaked past a beat later, shouting after him.

The ones left behind were a scattered mess, accompanied by dying groans.

My guts... pick them up... put them back in...

Save me, please save me. Help me...

Grrrk...

Two men with their intestines out, one man’s crotch soaked scarlet, foaming at the mouth.

Vanguard captain Jang Cheonho’s face sank deep into bleak despair.

Even so, he had just enough judgment left to know they had to help Youngban.

“Jin Baekho, escort the wounded. The rest, we go to Youngban.”

The problem was that even Jang Cheonho, giving those orders, had no idea what the hell was going on.

They had only followed the sound of the signal flute, and somehow the Minor Water Witch showed up out of nowhere—why was this random Minor Water Witch butting in, why was Youngban shouting Heavenly Flower Sword and chasing after the Minor Water Witch’s back?

More than anything, where had the original target gone?

****

Mandarlo slammed his foot down and took off.

He was dressed head to toe in black, with a black cloth wrapped to hide his hair, his face below the nose covered by a mask, and the upper half showing eye sockets smeared with ash.

To anyone looking, he was just a run-of-the-mill assassin sprinting somewhere.

And in this chaos, assassins were hardly in short supply, so the commoners only watched with anxious eyes and quickly pretended not to see, turning their gazes away.

The assassins themselves didn’t pay any particular attention to a “colleague” dashing off somewhere.

So Mandarlo, who’d been glancing around nervously at first, now drove his feet without hesitation and unfolded his lightness skill.

Once the immediate danger of being ambushed faded, he even had enough leeway in his head for other thoughts.

He could still feel the Heavenly Flower Sword’s rough touch, scooping up ash from the brazier and smearing it across his face—a stubborn, workmanlike slathering that left scratchy ash grit grinding against his whole face.

Thanks to that, his face still throbbed, burning and stinging.

‘All right. Put this guy’s clothes on and head back to the inn. With assassins swarming everywhere, if you pretend to be an assassin too, nobody’ll find you suspicious. Go tell the kids—no, the instructors. I’ll slip out on my own. Somebody has to round up the cadets who came out on leave.’

‘...Why, why go this far? Isn’t it simpler to just hand me over?’

SMAAACK! Mandarlo’s head snapped backward.

All she’d done was flick her fingers, but it was a blow strong enough to wrench his neck.

Mandarlo grabbed his forehead with a howl.

Qing clicked her tongue.

‘This is one ridiculous little shit. To be blunt, I don’t exactly like our dog-bone brat here, you know?’

Her gaze, as she said it, seemed to flick upward for some reason.

‘You’d better know how lucky you are. I’m only cutting you slack because you’re just eighteen and not even at full adult age yet. Hm? Hold up. You’re not, like, on the run for some capital crime, right?’

Mandarlo jumped.

‘Of course not! Ahem. I am perfectly upstanding...! I have never—ah, probably—incurred such a grudge that someone would want to kill me over it.’

‘Look at this guy, not even sure. Anyway, you’re saying no, right? I’ll take your word for it.’

‘What?’

For a moment, the Heavenly Flower Sword grinned.

A mischievous grin, like a bratty boy about to start trouble.

‘I’m an instructor, and I’m your guardian. It’s only natural I protect my cadet, isn’t it?’

‘But—’

‘Enough. Besides, from what I’ve seen of the martial world, anyone who can carpet the whole area with assassins like this doesn’t have such a thing as “being wronged” to begin with. Kid, you are very lucky.’

Even without knowing the exact going rate for an assassin, to bring in this many, a wagon of gold wouldn’t be enough.

Someone with the means to finance that kind of operation wasn’t the sort of person who would have “some terribly unjust grievance” against a spoiled young master whose bad karma only ran a bit high.

And from what she’d seen so far, the Sichuan noble brat was a funny little shit, a yellow-sprouting brat, a scrawny bastard with a trash personality at best, but he hadn’t quite made it all the way to full-on son of a bitch yet.

Just look at that ridiculous “assault roleplay” he’d staged. Even with that forced-drunkenness kink, he hadn’t actually forced anyone, which meant there was still room for rehabilitation.

‘So hurry up, change, and shove yourself under the bed. Even if they find you, they’ll just think you’re some assassin lying low. From there on, you handle it yourself. I’m not spoon-feeding you everything. Ugh, my back...’

Qing let out an exaggerated old-person groan as she stood up.

It was a meaningless old-man act, like the constant muttered snatches of song—signs of mental aging. But Mandarlo’s face went blank for a moment.

Because only now, at that groan, did he really see Qing’s blood-smeared state.

There wasn’t a single patch of her clothes left in their original color; it looked like she’d been dipped in blood and pulled back out.

And Qing had a bad habit of just taking light attacks straight to the body instead of bothering to dodge them. When your body’s that tough, you don’t need to go to the trouble of getting out of the way.

To a stranger’s eyes she would have looked like a total ragged wreck, and on top of that, she still had a long needle stuck right into the center of her chest.

‘Th-there.’

‘Ah. No wonder it kept pricking.’

‘A-are you all right?’

‘You’re a million years too early to be worrying about me.’

‘You mustn’t take it so lightly! The poison—’

‘If there was poison, I would’ve noticed ages ago. Enough. Worry about your instructor.’

With that, the Heavenly Flower Sword punched through the wall and slipped cleanly into the neighboring house.

Mandarlo bolted straight out toward the main street.

The Heavenly Flower Sword had told him to lie low and come out later, but after seeing her in that state, there was no way he could calmly hide for his own skin.

Women, after all, were the ones who pouted and made a fuss over the tiniest scratch, and yet there she was, her entire training robe soaked in blood, telling him to take care of his own body—how could he choose self-preservation and stay hidden, leaving an instructor like that out there?

Mandarlo sprinted straight for the main tavern street. The other instructors would be there; he had to hurry and beg them to go save the Heavenly Flower Sword.

****

The Heavenly Flower Sword herself was having the time of her life.

“Hey! People of the town! The assassins are chasing down the Minor Water Witch! Assassins are hunting the Minor Water Witch! How’s the poor Minor Water Witch supposed to live like this!”

Qing was flat-out sprinting.

Behind her, enraged shouts boomed loud enough to shake the air.

“Stop right there! If you don’t stop this instant, I’ll kill you!”

Youngban wasn’t actually expecting an answer.

This was what came out of a man’s mouth when rage hit the top of his skull—what you’d call, in technical terms, the reflexive yelling you do when you’re pissed as hell.

Qing tossed an answer right back.

“Oh! So if I stop right now, you’ll spare me!?”

“You bitch!! I’ll kill you!!”

“If you’re just gonna kill me even if I stop, why the hell are you telling me to stop!? Wow, you run a real shitty business, don’t you!”

“Shut up! Stop there, I said stop right there, Heavenly Floooower Sworrrd!”

“I am not the Heavenly Flower Sword! I am the famous Minor Water Witch! What part of me looks like the Heavenly Flower Sword to you!”

“Silence! Who do you think you’re mocking!”

“Is somebody else chasing me right now besides you? Hey, you. Yeah, you, asshole!”

“I’ll fucking kill youuu!!”

“Oh, listen to this. This snot-green old bastard’s got nothing but rude speech at the end of every sentence! Hey, how old are you, huh? You still got baby blood wet on your skull! Snot-green old punk with no manners!”

“Grrraaaaaaah!!”

Youngban’s eyes rolled back white.

This was formless toxic art—the ultimate poison that seeped straight into the human heart.

“Killing a few assassins, crushing a few bugs, and suddenly the big boss of the assassins is after me! You pathetic little maggot! Ah, right, assassins are the kind of scum who’ll stab mommy and daddy both if you pay them. Hey! Name your price! How much is it! I’ll buy your mommy and daddy’s lives! Let’s see, will three coppers do?”

“You—you dare!”

“Oh, you looking down on three coppers!? Three coppers gets you dumplings and soup! Ah, maybe there’ll even be change left over!”

“Uwaaaaah!!”

Youngban let out a beastly scream and cranked his speed up another notch, chasing after the “Minor Water Witch.”

His legs were already moving beyond their normal limit, and as even more inner power poured down into them, it spilled out through his Gushing Spring Points; his meridians ached and were starting to tear little by little.

But Youngban, eyes gone completely red with wrath, could no longer feel anything except the Heavenly Flower Sword’s back in front of him.

The Heavenly Flower Sword’s back was getting closer.

From ten feet to five, to half of that.

Two feet, one foot—at last, Youngban raised his sword high and—SHWEEECK!

In that instant, the ground exploded under the Heavenly Flower Sword’s feet.

Her back suddenly sprang away, opening up a gap of a full foot in the blink of an eye.

VOOOONG—Youngban’s sword carved through empty air.

And in his ear, a taunting voice rang out.

“Wow! I almost died! So close! So close!”

“Diiie! Just die already!”

“God, would it kill you to ask a little more politely? Then I might even hold my breath and die for you!”

“Grrrraaaah!”

“Fine! Fiiine, I get it! I’ll hold my breath and die for real. Inhale! Exhale! Inhale! Exhale! Inhale! Exhale! ...Sorry! Not happening!”

Someone listening in might have said she sounded excited, and they would have been right.

Wow, I can’t even see his face, but I can feel how pissed off he is. I can feel it blazing behind me. Wow, I made that guy that mad! I can control his emotions!

“Gggguuuuaaaah!!”

Youngban’s hand whipped up.

His arm stretched far back behind his head, like a Western thunder god hurling lightning, and with that brutal speed layered with the full force of his rage, he flung the blade—SWEEEEECK.

The sword, weighted with steel-qi, shot in a straight line like a beam of light toward Qing’s back—

THUMP.

Qing’s arm, bent at some grotesque angle, snapped back and caught the flying sword headed for her back.

It was a skill that defied belief.

How could a human shoulder twist around like that? Her elbow had gone beyond the normal limit of the joint, bending backward; in that state, she snagged a steel-qi-charged sword mid-flight.

And not just any sword—one thrown from behind, where she had no eyes. How could anyone catch such a fast projectile like that?

But Qing could.

Thanks to Oil-Drill Training, her joints bent in ways that were downright creepy, and thanks to Awakening Divine Art, the air she read around her might not cover a vast area, but it had no blind spots.

Besides, a master’s sword only has true power in the master’s hand; once it leaves that hand, it’s nothing more than a thrown projectile relying on brute strength.

And, more importantly, Qing was a master herself.

That was when Youngban’s complexion suddenly turned chalk white.

Obviously, even if Qing could sense what was behind her, she didn’t literally have eyes on the back of her head, so she had no way of seeing that expression.

Unaware of Youngban’s state, Qing kept up the taunting.

“What the hell, this thing’s cheap as hell! Why don’t you use a decent sword! You broke-ass bum! You call this junk a sword!?”

“H-how dare you! Hand it over this instant! Do you even know what kind of sword that is!”

“What kind of sword? Just from a glance, it’s a total piece of crap!”

“Y-you! You! You little—!”

Youngban’s eyes flushed a furious blood-red.

Qing tilted her head.

What’s this? That really hit a nerve. He’s seriously upset. Is this his beloved sword? Some kind of family heirloom?

Her eyes gleamed.

The reason didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she’d found his reverse scale.

“Look at this! It just bends right over!”

Qing lifted both arms high, one hand on the hilt and one on the blade, and folded the sword in half.

It held out doggedly until hilt and blade were nearly level, so it was clearly a fine sword—but bending and breaking a sword wasn’t something that demanded masters or prodigies or anything of the sort.

Any strong laborer who could apply force in the right direction could fold and break a sword; no martial arts required.

Blades are weak against bending force. Put weight on it and bend it, and not even a legendary sword, not even a legendary sword’s grandfather, can withstand it.

Youngban was horrified.

“Stop that at once! You bitch! Do you have any idea what that sword is!”

“Nope!”

Qing poured on more strength, and the hilt and blade bent past horizontal until they were almost touching, the whole thing looking like it would snap at any second.

Youngban bellowed.

“Stop!! You impudent wench, that was a Heavenly Grace blade, bestowed by His Maj—”

SNAP. The blade broke clean in half.

A strangled shriek ripped out behind her.

And in that same moment, Qing thought:

...Huh.

His Majesty? The Son of Heaven?

Still sprinting without a break, Qing glanced at the two pieces in her hands—two fragments that had once been a single sword—in her left and right.

Ah, fuck, I’m screwed.

If he’d said that just a little earlier...