Assassination of Heukgeom Noya
They said he was behind the imperial palace.
They said he was an old man whose age could not be known, and that he was as swift as the wind.
He did not appear before people.
He controlled everything from behind the palace, where it could be seen but not reached.
Ordinary people did not even know of his existence, and aside from a few at the pinnacle of power, almost no one knew him.
From the high edge of a roof, Soun looked down at the countless ranks of Imperial Guards moving like ants.
With the disturbance in the bedchamber, everyone was rushing there.
The assassin had already left, yet they poured in endlessly.
It seemed a futile procession.
By sight alone, there was no way to know where Noya's hideout lay.
Behind the palace stood dozens of pavilions and towers.
More than ten were three stories tall.
For a moment, he even considered chasing through them one by one and smashing them all.
He had no intention of wandering the night streets searching blindly.
Someone would carry news of the emperor's death.
He would follow that one.
That was why he had killed the emperor first.
To Soun's eyes, the Imperial Guards were extremely well-trained soldiers.
Fully armed, holding short blades and small shields, they advanced in tight formation—eight ranks, no, nine—surging toward the bedchamber like a tidal wave, careful not to harm comrades beside them.
Black dots filled every open space of the palace.
The steady clatter of boots across wide blue stone slabs filled the night sky.
Soun searched that flow for something different.
If the Guards reported to their commanding officers within the palace, then elsewhere, a report would also go to Heukgeom.
Something moving against the current—different—that was his target.
He had been told it was not within the palace proper, but behind it.
He sensed that strange presence from the bedchamber now moving swiftly against the flow.
It was not the presence of an ordinary soldier.
It was fishy, sinister, dark, and secretive.
The scent of an assassin.
It felt similar to the Heukgeom warriors he had first encountered at Yuga Manor.
Their direction differed.
They cut against the raging tide of soldiers, moving tight along the walls, so fast their steps were nearly invisible.
It was the movement of one who had mastered concealment.
Running opposite the ordered surge of countless Imperial Guards, yet somehow not drawing notice—it was almost unnatural.
Soun followed them with his eyes.
He leapt above the Guards flooding into the rear gate of the bedchamber, grabbed a crossbeam likely placed in preparation for such emergencies, spun once, landed lightly on the opposite side, and sprinted.
The guards at the rear gate did not stop them.
They knew him.
Clad in black night garb, hurrying toward the back, yet none mistook him for an assassin.
They saw him as one of their own.
The movement was different.
The direction was different.
When the emperor is assassinated, one runs inward to protect him.
They were running outward.
'It's them.'
Soun inhaled deeply and launched himself.
He stepped on the edge of a pavilion roof and flew like a night bird above them.
No—he flew.
He crossed a great distance in a single leap.
One bound carried him dozens of zhang.
The two men passed more than ten gates without interference, exited the outer palace gate, and crossed the broad bridge over the moat.
Behind it stood a high wall enclosing several connected siheyuan courtyards.
They pushed open a small side door beneath the wall and entered.
Directly opposite the northern palace gate beyond the bridge stood that structure.
Several buildings surrounded a tall central tower.
Unlit and dark, its form was indistinct.
'There.'
Soun leapt across the moat from a slanted rear angle and cleared the adjacent wall.
There was no need to pass through the same door.
Perhaps because the alarm had already sounded, two long, narrow blades shot toward his back the instant he landed inside.
They had anticipated such intrusion.
Pressed flat against the wall, waiting for him to drop.
Fast and vicious.
They struck the moment his foot touched ground.
Another man would already have been skewered.
Soun twisted, evading both blades, drew his sword, and slashed.
Two waists were severed.
He had countered so urgently that too much force entered the strike.
They collapsed without even time to scream.
Below the wall he looked up at the three-story tower.
Perhaps power always wished to display itself in height.
Though only three stories, it rose like six or more.
It declared itself.
Inside the outer courtyard, beyond another wall, stood the inner three-story building.
Men in black emerged one by one from rooms leaning against the wall.
For a moment he thought he had been discovered, but they moved elsewhere.
It was not because of him.
It was because of the alarm from the palace.
They poured out, forming defensive ranks—highly trained men.
They felt like those he had faced at Yuga Manor.
Soun stepped on the courtyard well, leapt to the inner roof eaves, and propelled himself toward the three-story tower.
He touched the second-story eave and leapt again.
The man from the palace was already running toward the main entrance.
Soun was faster.
Though something was wrong, confirming the details would take time.
He still had a window for surprise.
He leapt to the top roof, grabbed the eave, spun, pushed open the paper-paneled window, and entered.
He moved freely, like a bird, like a squirrel.
The moment he burst inside, he felt one presence to each side.
He filled his body with soft wind and dropped low the instant he entered.
As expected, two blades swept in from left and right, cutting high and low.
They had not sensed him—yet struck like ghosts.
But to Soun their movements were clear.
As if seen in slow motion.
He rotated midair, landed low, and swept his blade left and right.
Two sword arms flew.
One arm severed entirely, another up to the shoulder.
Blood splattered against the white paper lattice.
One screamed in pain.
Or perhaps not pain—perhaps shock that what had been attached was gone.
Soun drove his sword deep into the screaming man's chest.
The trembling life faded.
The scream ended.
In the brightly lit chamber stood a large table.
An old man sat alone behind it.
No worry.
No surprise.
Soun glanced around and understood why.
Two beneath the table.
Four unseen behind him.
Two at the door.
Five at his back.
Hidden so well ordinary senses would miss them.
He trusted them.
This formation had clearly been prepared for such attacks.
One presence was dark and heavy, yet carried undeniable strength.
For an ordinary martial artist, it would be overwhelming.
Even Soun felt slight tension.
The old man's ordinariness itself felt like confidence.
His eyes burned red like an active volcano.
Immense force gathered within him.
Heukgeom Noya.
Leader of Heukgeom.
One who divided power three ways.
There were rumors even the emperor treated him cautiously.
Some said he stood above the emperor.
The man who had led Soun here rushed in and knelt.
"The Emperor has passed.
It was assassination."
The old man's expression was strange.
It was not hard to guess the murderer stood before him.
Without a word, the messenger lunged at Soun with a killing strike.
A ruthless, all-or-nothing attack.
If it failed, he would be finished.
The blade drove straight for Soun's chest.
Soun twisted aside and drove his knee into the man's abdomen.
His entrails churned.
He collapsed.
Noya did not move.
"Are you Noya? Heukgeom's Noya?"
"And who are you, to assassinate the emperor and come here…"
"You ask before answering. An elder without courtesy."
Soun had no desire for dialogue.
No value in it.
"I am merely a powerless old man…"
Soun read the massive flow gathered at the old man's dantian.
Oversaturated internal force, dangerously compressed.
No enlightenment.
Only accumulation.
Drugs, strange methods, forced cultivation.
Power gathered beyond harmony.
A balloon waiting to burst.
'For creatures like this… my world collapsed…'
He felt emptiness.
"Your name is not in my records…"
"No need for questions. I am wind. No name for pigs like you."
Soun raised his sword.
A tidal surge of force spread wide.
Noya struck with both palms from his seated position.
Dark energy burst forward like a torrent.
At the same time, weapons from every hidden direction shot toward Soun—not at him directly, but at every space he might evade into.
Perfect coordination.
No collisions.
No interference.
There was nowhere to dodge.
No way to block all.
Soun gathered his sword before his chest and leapt upward, smashing through the roof.
Below, more than ten streams of force collided and exploded.
The weaker were blasted back.
The stronger killed allies.
Soun's sword carved two crossing arcs in midair.
Blue sword energy tore downward.
The entire upper half of the three-story tower collapsed.
At the center, Noya's twin palms met the descending force.
The immense energy stored within him detonated.
His body swelled grotesquely.
Soun descended in unity of sword and self.
One stroke.
The blade cut through the overfilled body.
A sound like bursting leather.
Noya exploded outward, unable to contain his own accumulated force.
His greed ended in ruin.
Soun watched the scattered energy dissipate into the air.
He sheathed his sword.
The tower had completely collapsed.
The central structure caved in.
Bodies fell lifeless.
Heukgeom warriors rushed in too late.
Soun leapt down from the second floor and left the siheyuan stronghold of Heukgeom.