The Heaven-Slaying Sword - Chapter 54: Chapter: Escort Agency, Fate (4)

Gwak Chil was a third-rate martial artist.

From the day he first picked up a wooden sword when he was very young until now, he had always been a third-rate martial artist.

Because he lacked the talent.

The problem was his cursed talent, which would never allow him to be like those chivalrous heroes he admired wandering the martial world.

Nevertheless, Gwak Chil longed for them.

He was a man who was deeply immersed in the romance of martial arts and chivalry.

Fortunately, even he possessed a talent to express his own chivalry and righteousness.

Gwak Chil was a natural storyteller, and he was also an excellent writer.

While unable to fight for chivalry with the sword, he sought to uphold it with the brush.

And that was the story behind the birth of the non-canonical text called [Tales of the Martial Heroes].

“I will tell the world about the chivalry I believe in through this book!”

In his younger days, he set out into his own martial world, under the pen name, Gwak Chil-pyo.

Writing all sorts of cool stories of chivalrous heroes, such as the tale of the Sword Hero and Benevolent Hero, he elevated his name.

Thus, he gained a title.

Brush Hero Gwak Chil-pyo.

It was a title full of romance of upholding chivalry with a brush.

Perhaps that was what sparked Gwak Chil’s greed.

He sought to tell even more romantic and heart-stirring chivalry.

And that was how the Demonic Hero, the greatest mistake of Gwak Chil’s life, came into the world.

Gwak Chil just wanted to declare.

That chivalry lives and breathes in the hearts of all people, that things like status, position, and the life that one has lived were not important at all.

It truly was a pure dream, and that was why the dream was torn down by reality.

Reality was just a little bit crueler than he thought.

–Gwak Chil is advocating for demonic practitioners!

He didn’t know where the rumors started, nor did he know how it spread.

What was certain, however, was that at some point, the reputation of Tales of the Martial Heroes which he had devoted his life to, plummeted to the abyss due to those inciting rumors.

Gwak Chil was afraid that the people who had always supported him had turned their backs on him. He was horrified at the thought of being captured by the Martial Alliance, and even more so frightened of being criticized.

So he hid.

He chose to put down the brush he had held all his life and live in silence.

It wasn’t an easy choice.

Nevertheless, it was one he had to make.

Time, in its fairness and generosity, eventually dulled Gwak Chil’s feelings somewhat, and his passion was naturally among the things that time had numbed.

That was how twenty years passed by.

“I-I’m sorry–!”

Mok Riwon shouted while kneeling down, his face so full of embarrassment that the person watching him felt sorry instead.

Gwak Chil smiled through the tears.

“No, I’m not crying because of Great Expert Ink Dragon.”

The old man’s tears were ugly, but no one here considered them so. A smile bloomed from amidst his sorrowful and touching cry, eliciting a glow of sympathy from the onlookers.

“I’m merely reminiscing over old times.”

He roughly wiped his tears with clumsy movements.

“…Indeed, I’m simply remembering the past. Gathering together and talking like this reminds me of my childhood.”

“A-Are you fine?”

“I’m fine. Mm, far too fine.”

Gwak Chil laughed while shrugging his shoulders.

The old man now realized that he wasn’t a sinner, crying and laughing with bitterness and relief.

“I’m sorry for showing my unsightly appearance. In that case, could you talk a bit more about that tale?”

“By tale, you mean…”

“The Tale of the Demonic Hero of course. I’d like to hear Great Expert Ink Dragon’s opinion some more.”

He still didn’t have the confidence to reveal that he was Gwak Chil-pyo.

How could a writer who ran away without finishing his story be proud of himself?

However, he still wanted to be comforted.

His words carried such warmth that Gwak Chil shamelessly made such a request.

At that, Mok Riwon smiled brightly.

“Sure! I can do it all night!”

“There’s no need to do it all night, we have to travel tomorrow too.”

“Oops!”

When Mok Riwon made that sound, those who were with him burst into laughter.

He scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, then slowly opened his mouth.

A certain tale of chivalry that continued through the long night, sitting around a campfire, contained the longing of a boy who had yet to grow up.

* * *

Tang Hwa-seo was watching Mok Riwon from afar, and that was why she asked him.

“Why did you make that escort cry?”

“I didn’t make him cry!”

Mok Riwon defended himself, deeply shocked.

What followed was, of course, a long explanation.

Luckily, Zhuge San was there to have his back this time around. The story itself seemed quite reasonable, so she was satisfied.

“It seems you had a fun time. That’s a relief.”

“It was extremely fun!”

Mok Riwon chattered away into the night.

He told her about how he had a lot in common with the man named Gwak Chil.

From promising to share stories over drinks again tomorrow evening, to telling them that they would set up their own tents from now on.

Tang Hwa-seo chuckled at that, spending the late night happily.

That was how the second day of the escort mission ended.

* * *

In the mountain pass connecting Anhui to Wuhan, there was a fairly large mountain home.

It was a hideout for bandits.

However, unlike what usually came to mind when one said mountain home, the sight unfolding there was strange.

It was too desolate and bloody to call it a bandits’ hideout.

The wooden fences were all collapsed.

Structures serving as houses were crumbling and swaying, along with red blood dripping everywhere.

It was the same even by smell.

Instead of the stale smell of unwashed men or the stench of feces flowing from the outhouses that should be present in the typical mountain home, the only thing wafting was the scent of blood and corpses.

There were people sitting on the ground.

“Boss, I’m here.”

A man in a black martial arts uniform bowed deeply.

Then, the one who received the greeting looked up.

The man’s attire was also unusual.

Wearing the same black martial arts uniform as the man who had just bowed, his appearance was strikingly different. He was so lacking in cleanliness that even the most diligent search wouldn’t reveal a trace of tidiness in his disheveled state.

His unkempt hair flew in all directions, the white of his eyes were entirely blood red, and his patchy beard gave him the appearance of a madman.

“Ink Dragon, huh? What ridiculous name.”

The man laughed.

“How can it not be ridiculous for a demon to pretend to be a dragon?”

As his lips moved, the man’s yellowed teeth were revealed.

And the head of the neat man paying his respects lowered even further.

“You are absolutely correct.”

“Indeed, it’s unjust, is it not? Why should only we be called demons when such a person can become a dragon?”

The man’s laughter grew louder.

Although there was a sense of grievance in the words he uttered, the man looked truly delighted.

“I also want to be a Fist Dragon, not Fist Demon.”

He rose to his feet.

“So I just need to fix this unjustness.”

The red qi in the whites of his eyes intensified.

Fist Demon Pae Woongchu.

He let out a breath that was stained with joy, and then looked in the direction of the main road.

* * *

The escort mission entered its fifth day.

Even today, as the tension of the escorts was gradually loosening in the midst of the escort convoy continuing without any particular danger, Mok Riwon was walking around looking particularly happy.

“Young Lady, did you know?”

“Know what?”

“I heard that night pearls are actually made by breaking a huge jade into equal size and then selling them! I thought they were all the same size from the beginning!”

“Certainly, if you’ve never seen a large night pearl you might think that.”

“Have you seen a large night pearl before?”

Mok Riwon’s eyes widened as she chuckled.

“Didn’t I grow up in a well-off household?”

Of course, her family home was filled with nothing but bad memories, but in terms of wealth and status, the Sichuan Tang Clan was one of the best in the martial world.

Therefore, Tang Hwa-seo had seen her fair share of treasures.

After realizing it, Mok Riwon nodded his head with an oops.

“I see… I thought Young Lady would be surprised, what a shame.”

“Is that also something that man Gwak Chil told you?”

“Yes, he knows many things!”

“It must come from years of experience, he must have seen many things in his lifetime.”

It was a recurring conversation for the past few days.

When the sun set, Mok Riwon ran to Gwak Chil and heard various stories about the martial world from him, and then later on he would tell Tang Hwa-seo in the morning.

Among them, there were stories that she knew, and some that surprised even her, so the things they talked about were quite diverse.

“Well, even considering that, the man Gwak Chil seems to know quite a lot. Even for me, that was the first time I’ve heard the story of the fox spirit beast with the snow-white tail in Hebei.”

“Mm! That story was really interesting! How about Young Lady joins us today? He’s very good at storytelling, so you’ll be much more engaged than listening about it from me.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind this either.”

It was an invitation that had been rejected and offered again several times the past few days.

The leisurely journey in a peaceful atmosphere was especially special to Tang Hwa-seo.

Only five more days and this journey would be over.

While feeling a strange sense of regret at that thought.

“…An enemy.”

Mok Riwon said, his expression turning cold.

Upon hearing him, Tang Hwa-seo quickly expanded her qi detection.

…There.

A group was caught in her qi wave.

As soon as she realized sensed them, she shouted.

“Enemies–!”

The escort convoy froze, and while making puzzled expressions, began to draw their weapons as they saw the nearby bushes shaking.

Boom!

Boom!

Boom!

The drums rang.

“It’s the enemy!”

“Be on guard! Defensive formation!”

The shout of the escorts filled the surroundings.

As all of that was happening, one person ran out ahead of the others.

It was Mok Riwon.

Schwiing–

Mok Riwon drew his sword and dashed to the front of the convoy, an ink-black qi already flowing out of his body.

Killing intent.

There was killing intent, but it was unlike any other – thicker than any Mok Riwon had ever felt before.

His heart pounded violently.

His breathing quickened beyond normal, and his thoughts sharpened, focusing intently on a single point.

It’s different.

The feeling was too strange to be merely killing intent.

An overbearing heaviness accompanied the sense of danger.

If he had to describe it in words, it would be comfort.

Mok Riwon stepped forwarded with doubts in mind, his instinct guiding him as he thrust the sword with all his might.

Boom!

There, a blood-red qi was expanding out, targeting the front of the convoy.

Mok Riwon repelled it with his own qi.

Then, a suspicious man popped out of the bushes.

“Nice to meet you–!”

The suspicious man who appeared with disheveled hair fluttering about clenched his fist and swung at Mok Riwon, who deflected it with the flat side of his blade.

The moment the distance between the two closed, the instant their eyes met.

…Demonic qi.

His instincts told him.

This is the qi of a demon.

At noon on the fifth day of the escort mission.

Mok Riwon met a demonic practitioner for the first time in his life.

***

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