Chapter 126

Chapter 126

A secluded forest far from the city. Cha Unhyeop stepped into a reed field, a place rarely visited by people.

“Just to be sure, I’ll ask one more time.”

Step.

Cha Unhyeop stopped and turned to look at Un Hyang.

“Are you not willing to return quietly?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

Swish.

Un Hyang drew her sword as a firm rejection. As expected. Cha Unhyeop sighed.

“Why do you dislike home so much?”

“Home? You call that place my home?”

Snorting in disdain, Un Hyang shook her head.

“Not a chance. I’ve never considered that place my home.”

“Your thoughts do not matter. If the place where you were born and raised isn’t home, then what is?”

“That place—”

Shaking her head, Un Hyang swung her sword side to side as if to dismiss the conversation.

“No, forget it. What good does it do arguing with you?”

“I cannot understand you.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“Un Hyang.”

Recalling memories from long ago, Un Hyang closed her eyes tightly.

“Do you know why I hate that place so much?”

“It is the fate given to you.”

As she slowly reopened her eyes, Cha Unhyeop came into view.

A follower of Un Cheon-guk.

A high-ranker known by the title of Heavenly Thunder Sword. He stood there, ready with his sword to drag her back.

“This time, let me ask you, master.”

Un Hyang’s tone turned courteous. Cha Unhyeop sensed the impending fight and sharpened his magic.

“Speak.”

“You’re not planning to just leave, are you?”

It was a desperate plea.

But.

“Of course not.”

He too could not back down.

“Sigh. I figured as much.”

With a sigh, Un Hyang’s sword turned crimson.

“So you’re insisting on dying by my hand.”

“...Everyone, get ready.”

Swish.

Clang.

The martial artists drew their swords. They were different from the previous ones. Unlike the riffraff who had come with Muhwi, these were Shinryeonseong’s elite.

Dozens of elite martial artists. Their sword tips all pointed at Un Hyang.

But then.

Whoosh!

Suddenly, Un Hyang, scattering fierce winds all around, darted towards Cha Unhyeop.

Boom!

Clang!

The two swords clashed fiercely. Un Hyang, who had swiftly reached Cha Unhyeop while weaving through the martial artists, flashed her eyes.

“How about we skip the fodders and settle this between us?”

“Being out in the world for so long has made your tongue sharp.”

Clang-!

Un Hyang swung her sword, deflecting Cha Unhyeop’s attack.

Sling—.

Whack-.

Bamboo stalks were sliced and scattered. Hundreds of bamboo shoots were cut with a single stroke, each blade forming a ripple.

Ssss—.

A thin cut appeared on Cha Unhyeop’s cheek. He couldn’t avoid or block all the attacks, and one had slipped through.

Thud-thud-thud—.

The severed bamboo tops fell like rain. When the trees that had been obscuring the moonlight toppled, the surroundings brightened instantly.

And under that moonlight, the martial artists targeted Un Hyang from all sides.

“Stop—!”

But at that moment.

Flash—.

Blue lightning surged from Cha Unhyeop’s palm, pushing Un Hyang far back. Crashing through bamboo trees, she tumbled across the ground, kicking up dust.

“Ugh....”

Quickly regaining her balance, she clutched her abdomen.

It felt as if her insides were tangled. The electricity coursing through her body made her feel paralyzed. The minor wounds inflicted by the sword were also a problem.

‘It’s the same pattern continuously.’

The minor wounds and now this major one. All were inflicted while she was dealing with other martial artists.

“They picked some sophisticated bait this time?”

Bait.

That was the role of the thirty Shinryeonseong martial artists. They were there only to support Cha Unhyeop.

But part of that “support” role was also to divert Un Hyang’s attention.

“They are not just any disposable pawns.”

Tap-.

Cha Unhyeop approached Un Hyang. His eyes were filled with sorrow. More than ten martial artists of Shinryeonseong had already lost their lives, so it was only natural.

“The deaths of these men won’t even be recorded in history. They will merely become fertilizer, buried in the ground.”

“Yes, it’s unfortunate.”

“So—”

“So why don’t you stop now? At this rate, they’ll all die.”

Un Hyang was confident. There were seventeen Shinryeonseong martial artists still alive. She was confident she could kill them all.

Cha Unhyeop knew that Un Hyang’s words were not mere bluster.

However.

“Even if that were the case, you wouldn’t win.”

The problem was Cha Unhyeop himself, more than the combined force of the thirty martial artists.

Even if she managed to kill them all, as long as Cha Unhyeop was alive, she couldn’t claim victory.

“Are you saying it’s okay for them to all die?”

“It would sting my heart a bit. But what can we do? They are martial artists under Shinryeonseong, carrying out their mission.”

“That’s just a senseless death.”

“It might be. But you know as well as I do that we cannot back down.”

Cha Unhyeop was right. Returning would lead to the same result. If they went back now, they would all be killed by Un Cheon-guk.

“Then let’s have a fair one-on-one match!”

“You know as well as I do that Shinryeonseong has its roots in the dark arts.”

“Oh, really!”

Boom! Crash!

Every time their swords clashed, the sound of thunder roared. Cha Unhyeop felt his wrist tense up several times over as he marveled at Un Hyang’s skill.

‘That was true.’

Before coming here. Cha Unhyeop had been confident that he alone would suffice. But Un Cheon-guk had persuaded him otherwise.

“Take about thirty men with you.”

It was a baffling request. No matter how much of a genius she was, Un Hyang was just a subordinate disciple. She was neither an active player nor a martial artist—just a manager.

“Even I alone am more than enough.”

“No. It has to be excessive. It must be overly excessive.”

“I understand it’s an important mission, but—”

“No. It’s not about importance. It’s about whether it’s enough.”

Enough. Understanding those words, Cha Unhyeop couldn’t help but feel his pride wounded.

“I am not the weakling I once was.”

“I know. Cha Unhyeop, the Heavenly Thunder Sword, is a splendid title.”

“You don’t even care about me, so how do you know—”

“It’s not because I don’t know you, but because I don’t know her.”

Those words startled Cha Unhyeop even more. Un Cheon-guk, who never admitted ignorance, said he didn’t know.

“She’s a talent crafted by the gods. I cannot fathom how much she has grown.”

A talent crafted by the gods. Un Cheon-guk’s reserved praise. Even though she was his blood, he never used such words lightly.

“So take them with you. And if you’re ever in doubt, use them as bait without hesitation.”

It was no small shock. Cha Unhyeop, in his first clash with Un Hyang, reached the same conclusion.

One-on-one wouldn’t be easy.

‘A talent crafted by the gods...’

A genius. Amid countless geniuses, as if chosen by the heavens to possess that title, that was Un Hyang.

Slash—!

Another martial artist who tried to sneak up on Un Hyang was cut in half by her sword. And in that brief opening.

Cha Unhyeop, once more, thrust his sword charged with blue electricity.

Clang—!

“Gh-...”

Un Hyang staggered once more. Her wounds increased. Just like clothes soaked in drizzle, or a stone step eroded by raindrops, she was gradually crumbling.

‘But...’

And looking at her with pity.

‘The heavens granted you talent but took away your fate.’

Cha Unhyeop gripped his sword tightly. Now he felt confident he could take her down alone.