Chapter 7

Gwimyeong came to his senses at the sound of clear water.

Gwimyeong was startled.

'Huh! Did I lose consciousness?'

Even more shocking was that he couldn't remember how he had lost consciousness. Fragmentary scenes flashed through his mind, and his head ached as if it would break.

'Let's stay calm for now.'

Gwimyeong calmed his mind.

The title of the best in the world was not given to just anyone. He was the one who had endured in a latrine for ten days and finally succeeded in assassination.

His mental strength was second to none in the Jianghu.

His shoulder was burning as if it had been scalded. How much blood had he lost? The fact that he could feel pain was a good sign. If his nerves were completely severed, he wouldn't even feel pain.

Gwimyeong didn't open his eyes rashly.

The scene that would unfold before his eyes wouldn't change anyway. No matter the situation, it was better to delay revealing that he had regained consciousness as much as possible.

As he concentrated, his memories slowly began to return. Even as his head ached as if it would break, testimonies about Jeok Leegeon flashed through his mind.

And, and a sinister voice echoed in Gwimyeong's heart.

Ah! That's right. He had heard a voice from behind.

At that moment, Gwimyeong turned around without a moment's hesitation and threw a deadly hidden weapon. It was someone who had approached his back without a sound. That meant they were far more skilled than him.

Good heavens! Such a master.

Only a surprise attack was the way to survive. That judgment was definitely right.

'But.......'

His head ached as if it would break again.

A vision of something flying towards him flashed through his mind.

It was faster than any weapon Gwimyeong had ever encountered in his life.

'I was hit by that.'Doo doo doo.'

Again, he heard the sound of water. It was the sound of pouring tea into a teacup.

'Who is it?'

Hoping that it wasn't the worst-case scenario, Gwimyeong slightly squinted.

The blurry vision gradually became clearer.

Three people were sitting around a table, drinking tea.

Gwimyeong closed his eyes tightly again.

How wonderful it would be if there were burly idiots with their shirts off, sitting around and spouting obscene jokes, or torturers trying to intimidate him by heating up iron needles, but reality was different from Gwimyeong's wishes.

'Damn it! This isn't good.'

He couldn't see clearly, but he had a feeling that they were all old men. Moreover, the one sitting with her back turned was clearly an old woman.

They knock someone down and then drink tea elegantly? That meant only one thing. Masters! Damn it, three of them.

With the intention of checking his condition first, Gwimyeong squinted again and looked down at his right shoulder, where he felt the pain.

Gwimyeong almost screamed.

What was stuck in his shoulder was something he had never imagined even in his dreams.

It was a sickle.

The crude and heavy sickle, with its bluish-steel sheen, was piercing through his shoulder and stuck in the wall behind him.

'Could it be that the thing that flew at me back then was this sickle?'

The mental shock of not being able to avoid such a crude and large sickle shook Gwimyeong's mind.

At that moment, a thought struck his mind like lightning.

'Could it be!'

No sickle in the world could pierce his shoulder.

Except for one sickle.

The cursed demon sword.

The Twin Demon Sickles.

The unique weapon of Yang Hwa-young, the infamous witch who had terrorized the Jianghu with two sickles sixty years ago.

Yang Hwa-young was the most extraordinary woman in Jianghu history. It was rare enough for a woman to use a sickle as a weapon, but what was truly amazing was her earth-shattering Martial arts.

She was said to be the most trusted and favored by the previous Demon God, and she was a legendary woman known for her extreme demonic Martial arts and cold temperament, and was called the Supreme Demon Empress, one level above the Six Demon Lords.

The legendary witch of Jianghu history, Yang Hwa-young of the Twin Demon Sickles.

'Could it be... her?'

As if to prove it, another sickle was hanging from the old woman's waist. She was well over a hundred years old, her back was bent, and she was wearing a headscarf like the village women. With a sickle at her waist, she looked exactly like an old woman who had come out to work in the rice paddies.

That's why he was even more certain.

'Huh! Is it really her?'

What rice-weeding old woman in the world could have made him look like this?

The hairs on his body stood on end, and Gwimyeong was filled with fear.

He bit down on his trembling teeth until they were about to break. Tears welled up in his tightly closed eyes.

And one question that preceded pain, anger, and fear.

'Why is she here?'

Then he wondered about the identities of the other old men with her.

He squinted again.

Gwimyeong's eyes caught sight of a sword standing next to another old man.

A single pattern engraved on the scabbard.

That thunderbolt pattern he had seen on Jin I-bong's wall.

The thunderbolt engraved on the scabbard was not for decoration, but for only one person.

The only person who could unleash real thunderbolts when he drew his sword.

'Could it, could it really be the Thunderbolt Sword!'

His trembling body was telling him. It was the real Thunderbolt Sword.

'Then the fake secret manual wasn't fake?'

Gwimyeong was breathless. The sound of his pounding heart echoed in his head like thunder.

Trembling, trembling, his teeth chattered without him realizing it. It was all over. If it was them, they would have known he was awake from the start.

Gwimyeong opened his eyes. As expected, no one even glanced at him even when he opened his eyes. Gwimyeong was terrified. He felt the trembling of a survival instinct that sensed death.

The Twin Demon Sickles and the Thunderbolt Sword.

The absolute masters who represented justice and evil.

Why were they all here together?

A chivalrous person who hated evil to the extreme and a witch who never forgave righteous people were sitting side by side, drinking tea. It was an unbelievable sight.

Then the remaining old man said politely.

"Would you like another cup?"

He had never seen him before, but Gwimyeong knew who he was. The precise movements of pouring tea into the teacup. The cold demonic energy flowing from his sharp eyes. He looked like he could kill a person with just his eyes. He was definitely the demon sword Cheon Mu-ak who had gone to kill Jeok Leegeon at the end.

If he was the demon sword, then the two people in front of him were certain as well. There was no one in the Jianghu right now who the demon sword would personally serve tea to.

Yang Hwa-young of the Twin Demon Sickles, a member of the Jianghu Ten Great Masters of the previous generation.

Naeng Isang of the Thunderbolt Sword, a member of the Jianghu Ten Great Masters of the previous generation.

Cheon Mu-ak of the demon sword, a member of the Jianghu Ten Great Masters of the current generation.

It was truly unbelievable that these three people were sitting side by side, drinking tea.

'This is ridiculous! What on earth, what on earth is going on?'

Dozens, hundreds of doubts soared like flames. As those flames burned white, one conclusion suddenly popped out.

'Could it, could it be that they're all on the same side?'

What if this whole thing was a collaborative scam?

What if the young brat Jeok Leegeon was just a smokescreen?

What if three peerless masters were gathering to rob the rich people of the Central Plains?

The amount was hundreds of thousands of nyang. No matter how great the Twin Demon Sickles were, wouldn't she want to swing her sickle at a pile of gold?

Once he got to that point, he couldn't think of anything else.

"Come to think of it, it's already been twenty years."

It was Yang Hwa-young who broke the silence. It wasn't an old voice. It was as vivid as that of a young woman. He could immediately feel how profound her inner energy was.

"It's already been that long."

The one who answered politely was the Thunderbolt Sword.

"You've aged a lot."

"You haven't changed, senior."

There was familiarity in their conversation.

No, no, no matter how I think about it, this doesn't make sense. Yang Hwa-young and Naeng Isang are playing senior and junior? With such a friendly attitude? The strongest people in the world are doing this just for money?

"Why did Leegeon leave for Hubei?"

At that moment, Gwimyeong perked up his ears.

Leegeon? So that Jeok Leegeon guy really exists?

"How would I know what that black-hearted guy is thinking?"

Then Yang Hwa-young chuckled. She seemed to be in a good mood thinking about Jeok Leegeon.

"What are you going to do now?"

"Let's go too. We don't have anything to do anyway, do we?"

Then Yang Hwa-young looked at Cheon Mu-ak.

"Aiya, what are you going to do?"

Aiya, the demon sword is in a position to be called a child. If it weren't for this crazy situation, I would have been so moved that I would have danced.

"I'll join you."

It was a short answer.

Yang Hwa-young's eyes narrowed. She seemed to have a lot to say, but she just gave a subtle smile.

"You'll have to do all the errands now..."

"I will."

Then Yang Hwa-young smiled at the Thunderbolt Sword.

"You're finally free from being the youngest, aren't you?"

The Thunderbolt Sword smiled. Yang Hwa-young's words about being the youngest and the oldest between just the two of them were funny.

The Thunderbolt Sword had been watching her temperament by her side for the past twenty years. She, who had been so cruel and cold, was now showing a friendly side that was quite talkative and laughed often. It was all thanks to one person.

Yang Hwa-young said with a bright smile.

"If it weren't for that child... our lives would have been so boring."

"That's right."

"So, I was thinking... this time, I should pretend to give in to his wishes. Twenty years old is an adult now. Yes."

"If senior gets involved, the Jianghu will be shaken up again."

"That's right. But I'm already over a hundred years old. The laws of the world don't mean anything to me. I believe those children will understand."

Gwimyeong sensed that 'those children' were referring to others besides Jeok Leegeon. Of course, he couldn't guess who they were.

Even the leader of the Martial Alliance was just a child to Yang Hwa-young.

Yang Hwa-young glanced at Gwimyeong.

"Young child, would you like a cup too?"

Thin, long eyes visible between the wrinkled wrinkles.

The energy emanating from her eyes was terrifying enough to make his legs go numb.

Gwimyeong was certain that he would die. Death was whispering in his ear. To use his last moments wisely.

Instead of answering that he would drink the tea, Gwimyeong muttered.

"...Supreme Demon Empress of the Twin Demon Sickles."

"Yes. That's me."

"...Thunderbolt Sword."

Naeng Isang silently nodded.

"...Demon Sword."

Cheon Mu-ak sent a murderous aura.

Once he had confirmed it directly, Gwimyeong's mind calmed down.

"Why didn't you kill me?"

Yang Hwa-young calmly replied.

"I promised not to kill anyone without his permission."

Gwimyeong was confused.

'Him? Who is he talking about?'

Who in this Jianghu could dare to give permission to the Twin Demon Sickles? Could it be the Demon God? If it was the Demon God, he wouldn't use that expression.

Gwimyeong asked with a glimmer of hope.

"So, you mean you're going to spare me?"

After taking a sip of tea, Yang Hwa-young nodded.

"I won't kill you. Instead, I'll destroy your dantian and sever the tendons in one of your legs."

Gwimyeong laughed. That meant giving him pain worse than death.

Yang Hwa-young smiled faintly and added.

"Of course, I've heard that assassins aren't afraid of death."

She was telling him to kill himself.

Yang Hwa-young was once a notorious witch who had terrified the world. He fully understood her cruelty. No, he was so grateful that she was even answering him.

What Gwimyeong found strange was the Thunderbolt Sword.

"I'm just surprised that Senior Naeng is with the Demon Empress."

The great chivalrous hero Naeng Isang who had echoed throughout the Jianghu.

He didn't answer.

Yang Hwa-young answered instead.

"Time... makes even chivalry tired."

Then Naeng Isang looked at Yang Hwa-young and said.

"The power of time isn't just that, is it?"

If he had changed, it meant that Yang Hwa-young had changed a lot as well.

It was truly an incomprehensible answer for Gwimyeong.

Gwimyeong really wanted to live. He wanted to live and tell everyone this story.

Yang Hwa-young said coldly.

"Well, let's go. It's a shame, but there's no place for assassins in that child's Jianghu."

Her face was smiling, but her eyes were as cold as ice.

"I have one question to ask before I die."

"What is it?"

"Who is this Jeok Leegeon? Did Senior Naeng use Shapeshifting?"

He had heard in the conversation earlier that he had gone to Hubei. But no matter how he thought about it, he seemed like a non-existent person. If Naeng Isang had stepped in, then the words of the manor manager's son that thunder had roared must be true.

The three of them laughed at the same time. It was a laugh of denial.

"You've investigated, so you'll know, if it's you..."

Yang Hwa-young asked with a meaningful smile.

"Could you easily imitate that child?"

Those words only brought more confusion to Gwimyeong.

"Then are they your disciples, seniors?"

Yang Hwa-young also denied the thought that they might be joint successors with a hollow laugh. Damn it, then who the hell is he?

Jeok Leegeon.

Now his head ached just hearing that name.

"Anyway, I envy him. To enjoy the glory of being protected by masters like you."Exactly--

Gwimyeong bit down on the poison hidden behind his molars."

He had never imagined until this morning that he would use this. There's a saying he sometimes says when killing a client. There are times when unexpected days come in life, and today is that day. Damn it, I never thought it would be his own.

"Cough."

Looking at Gwimyeong spitting out black blood, Yang Hwa-young said quietly.

"Why do you think we're protecting that child?"

Yang Hwa-young's appearance was becoming blurry as she looked at him. Gwimyeong strained his eyes to avoid losing consciousness.

"What... do you mean?"

The last bit of true energy was spat out. Gwimyeong's head drooped forward. He heard Yang Hwa-young's words in his ear. It was a word that Gwimyeong would regret even in death, a word he could never understand.

"...He's a child who doesn't need our help at all."