Chapter 64 After a long while, Seonhye finally spoke again.
"…In that case, Sect Leader. I apologize, but I do not believe I can carry out that role."
"State your reason."
"The manual containing the secret art of the Purple Haze Divine Art is certainly a precious treasure of our Mount Hua Sect. But in the end, it is still only a martial manual. How can we kill people over a single book? I am not fit for such a task. Please entrust it to another senior brother."
"Hm."
The Sect Leader swallowed a sigh and turned to Yeo Il.
"And Yeonwu?"
Yeo Il answered calmly.
"I share the same thoughts as Seonhye. I refuse."
"…Very well. Your hearts are deep. It cannot be helped."
"Thank you for your understanding, Sect Leader."
"It is cold. Warm yourselves before you return."
"Yes."
Seonhye lifted her teacup, her expression still tense.
Yeo Il's hand gripped her arm firmly.
"…Senior Sister? Do you have something to say?"
Yeo Il stared at her in silence, then shook her head and drank her own tea.
When the two cups returned to the table—
"I am sorry."
Gulp.
Seonhye spat out whatever she had held in her mouth.
"I regarded you both as precious talents who would one day lead Mount Hua… It pains me that you must wither before even blooming. Yeonwu. And Seonhye."
"…Ugh."
Red blood splattered across the floor.
Seonhye's body collapsed limply atop it.
At the same time, urgent shouts rang out from outside.
"An intruder! The enemy has appeared! Everyone, rise!"
"Assassins!"
In Yeo Il's vision, Seonhye's body trembled convulsively.
"W-why…?"
No answer came to her final question.
Her faint breaths slowly ceased.
Seonhye—third-generation disciple of the Mount Hua Sect and junior sister of Yeonwu, Yeo Il's other identity—died just like that.
Their bond had lasted only two years.
[Hello, Senior Sister! It's my first time meeting you. I'm Seonhye. I heard there was a hidden disciple of our late master, and I've been looking forward to the day we would meet!]
[Why?]
[…Pardon?]
[I'm curious why you were looking forward to it. The other senior brothers do not show me open hostility, but they do not show me favor either.]
[Th-that's not some grand reason…]
[…]
[I-it's just that… I've never had a senior sister before… It's really nothing special, is it?]
Yeo Il recalled Seonhye's face, flushed red like plum blossoms during their first meeting, then slowly bent and closed her eyes.
"You did not drink the tea, Yeonwu."
The Sect Leader's gaze settled upon Yeo Il's untouched cup.
"It would have been better for you to die instantly as well."
He looked at her with a bitter expression.
Though the Sect Leader offered no explanation for the sudden tragedy, Yeo Il easily grasped his intent.
He wished to completely control the flow of information regarding the martial manual.
Even if it meant accepting—no, forcing—the sacrifice of innocent disciples.
"…What cruel fate! To think that Salmak would launch a sudden assault upon Mount Hua at such a moment. It seems the sinner must indeed face heaven's punishment. But do not worry, Yeonwu. As I must protect the disciples, I shall end this swiftly—"
The moment she overturned the table, Yeo Il sprang up and shattered the lamp that illuminated the room.
Whii—
Darkness swallowed the surroundings, broken only by the commotion outside.
"They are no ordinary foes! The children… the children are in danger!"
"Send reinforcements to the West Pavilion at once! I will settle things here and follow!"
Yeo Il lowered her body, evading the trajectory of sound.
Each time she turned her head, the opponent's form, which should have entered her sight even faintly, blurred and vanished.
The movements of a seasoned master exploiting the smallest opening could not be easily halted, even by Yeo Il.
To Mount Hua Sect Leader Baek Chung, who still did not know her true identity, her swift reactions seemed nothing short of astonishing.
"Impressive."
A sincere murmur scattered into the cold air.
As an attack—surely intended as a decisive blow—shot toward her solar plexus, Yeo Il deliberately slowed her response.
Seizing that instant, his hand burrowed beneath her chin and gripped it tightly.
Baek Chung clicked his tongue, confident of victory.
"What a pity. That I must end a genius like you with my own hands…"
Just before he twisted her neck—
The grip around Yeo Il suddenly lost its strength.
Bathed in the flickering yellow lantern light from outside the window, the gleam of a sharp blade flashed.
At the appearance of a new presence in the darkness, Baek Chung quickly distanced himself from Yeo Il.
"Who is it?"
Step.
A figure in black naturally took position beside Yeo Il, confronting Baek Chung.
The black-clad figure tossed a sword, held in the hand that did not grip a weapon, toward Yeo Il.
When she unraveled the old cloth plastered with talismans, a smooth scabbard emerged.
Yeo Il slowly grasped the ice-cold hilt and drew the blade.
Woooong—
In the pitch-black darkness, the blade revealed itself with a faint glow.
"…Moon Sword!"
Moon Sword One Kill.
The owner of the Moon Sword. The One Kill of Salmak.
Counted among the world's famed blades, the Moon Sword was so named because when wielded by its master, it shone white like a full moon.
Yet it was also a demonic blade that drove unworthy wielders into heart demons; ordinary people could not even dare touch it.
The only one in this world who could wield the Moon Sword was Salmak's One Kill—Yeo Il.
Upon realizing her true identity, Baek Chung's final composure shattered.
"Yeonwu… how could you… how could you be the Moon Sword…?"
Yeo Il spoke evenly.
"Do not be so startled, Sect Leader."
"..."
"If you need it to be easier, think of it as killing because you tried to kill me."
The black-clad figure and Yeo Il attacked simultaneously.
Realizing too late in the firelight pouring through the window, Baek Chung rushed toward the door, but was intercepted repeatedly.
"You scoundrels! Stand aside at once!"
Face darkened with fury, he targeted Yeo Il more persistently than the black-clad figure.
He was Baek Chung, Sect Leader of Mount Hua.
Even the two of them together found him difficult to handle.
Sharp blades grazed dangerously close to cloth and flesh.
As sword wounds accumulated, the resonance of the Moon Sword climbed through her veins and began to stir within her mind.
At that moment, red blood began to drip from beneath Baek Chung's nose.
"…This."
Not only his nose—both eyes were red and swollen.
It was the effect of the Hongyu incense lit by the black-clad figure.
Just as Yeo Il prepared to halt her breathing to mitigate the poison—
"Senior Sister Yeonwu!"
"..."
"Where are you, Senior Sister Yeonwu! We must move at once!"
Baek Chung, covering his nose and mouth with his sleeve while searching for an opening, widened his eyes.
"Bang Woo, stop! You must not open the do—"
Seizing the opportunity, a swift blade pierced Baek Chung's chest, and a familiar shadow fell beyond the paper door.
"Sect Leader? Are you there?"
Just as the owner of the shadow hurried to open the door—
Crash!
Yeo Il kicked the door open, knocking Bang Woo down.
She immediately grabbed his collar and hurled him as far away as possible.
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