Chapter 07 …
The Heartless Spear, Gong Myeongdo
Jin A-seol had an incredulous expression.
“People say that the greatest martial artist in the world retired fifty years ago. His name was the solitary master, Cheon Nam-yeon.”
Hearing the name Cheon Nam-yeon from Jin A-seol felt strange to him. It was probably because it was the first time he’d heard the name of Cheon Nam-yeon being called the greatest through someone else’s mouth.
“The solitary master was one of the three masters who personally taught me.”
“Who’s this ‘solitary master’?”
“Cheon Nam-yeon, the solitary master!”
Smack!
Without realizing it, Jin A-seol clenched her tiny hand into a fist and hit Geom-ryeong in the stomach.
“Ugh!”
Even though her punch was neither strong nor painful, Geom-ryeong groaned and instinctively bent his back like a shrimp.
He did it to match her mood.
“I can tolerate anything, but I cannot let anyone disrespect his name,” she said angrily.
“Master Cheon Nam-yeon and Master Yak-bing are my idols. So if you ever want to lie to me in the future, just say you were a disciple of the ghost master Gu Young-cheol instead.”
Geom-ryeong pouted.
“Alright, I’ll do that.”
Watching Jin A-seol huff and puff, he couldn’t help but lower his tail. Yet, he felt oddly pleased.
He never thought hearing the names of the three people who had raised and taught him from someone else’s lips could feel so good.
‘Ghost Master, you really should have done better when you were in the martial world,’ he thought.
Gu Young-cheol, the ghost master he had challenged as a heretic, was feared in the martial world—not revered like Cheon Nam-yeon or Yak-bing.
“But, A-seol!”
Jin A-seol glared at Geom-ryeong.
“Brother, you really are the greatest martial artist in the world.”
Smack!
Perhaps because it was a full moon, the moon shone unusually bright.
Geom-ryeong was sitting on the roof of a detached building of the Kangnam Biao Bureau, drinking wine and gazing at the moon.
The only alcohol he had tried back on Heukam Island was fruit wine made from strange fruits. Compared to the wine he was drinking now, it didn’t even compare; this wine was sweet and delicious.
“Solitary Master! Today, A-seol called you her idol. Hearing that made me feel so happy,” he said, a faint smile forming on his lips.
“But I guess it’s not Ghost Master. She told me to only say I’m a disciple of Ghost Master from now on.”
In the round moon, faces appeared and disappeared.
“I don’t usually feel this way, but today I miss them terribly.”
A distant sadness settled in Geom-ryeong’s eyes—caused by the deaths of the three masters.
“I know. We can’t see them again. But don’t worry! Today, I’ll just let myself miss them like this.”
He lifted the wine bottle to his mouth.
“Don’t be too upset, though. They’ll remain forever in my heart.”
Geom-ryeong stood on the roof.
“And being taught by the greatest martial artist in the world is enough reason to be proud, right?”
The paths of Wangak Mountain were not particularly rugged. The mountain had no deep valleys or streams, but the trees were dense beyond description.
A group of people ascended the mountain, guided by the cries of birds.
They were members of the Kangnam Biao Bureau.
Jin A-seol and the Heartless Spear, Gong Myeongdo, walked ahead, followed by the Biao messengers and guards.
“Do you think they’ll give up the tribute so easily?”
“Mountain thieves don’t give up easily. But don’t worry—they’ll comply out of respect for my reputation,” Myeongdo replied confidently, his tone a bit rude.
Though Jin A-seol didn’t like his impolite manner, she felt slightly reassured by his confidence.
Myeongdo wasn’t a renowned master, but he was known to be superior to Ak-jeong of Wangak Mountain.
Of course, if all the mountain bandits attacked at once, the outcome could not be guaranteed. But she believed they wouldn’t act recklessly.
‘Even if we suffer a loss, if we deliver the tribute quickly and return, showing that we are making every effort to maintain our credibility, the loss can be recovered,’ she thought as they walked.
Myeongdo stopped walking.
“Why?” Jin A-seol asked.
“Strange. Normally, the Nokrim members would have appeared by now…”
Indeed, they were near Wangak Mountain, yet no scouts were in sight.
“Let’s walk a little further and have the messengers stay alert,” he instructed.
The messengers tensed slightly and scanned the surroundings. The guards looked uneasy and hesitant.
“Let’s go,” Myeongdo said, taking the lead.
Despite his rudeness, he knew his duties and moved with responsibility.
As they approached Wangak Mountain, no one came to greet them. When they drew closer, the compound came into view.
Myeongdo frowned.
“Why?” Jin A-seol asked.
“It smells rotten,” he said.
“Rotten?”
Neither Jin A-seol nor the others noticed any odor.
“Something must have happened here. Be careful.”
Myeongdo opened the door to the compound.
Screech!
Inside, bodies lay scattered, already decomposing.
“Ugh!”
Jin A-seol, the messengers, and the guards gasped and covered their noses against the stench.
“What happened here?” Jin A-seol asked.
“We need to check inside,” Myeongdo said.
He walked among the corpses.
‘Hmm…’
He examined them but found no external injuries. All seemed to have died the same way.
‘Internal injuries?’
He found Ak-jeong, the leader of the mountain thieves, in his quarters, vomiting blood, dead like the others.
“All died from internal injuries. But I can’t tell how they were killed,” Myeongdo muttered, narrowing his eyes.
Though vomiting blood indicated internal damage, there were no marks to show how it was inflicted.
He thought hard but couldn’t come up with an answer.
“Outside too, no signs of a fight. Why would such a master attack Wangak Mountain…”
Though Wangak Mountain belonged to the Nokrim, its presence was minor. Wiping out such a small band wouldn’t make a name in the martial world. Who knows why such a powerful person would do this? Perhaps there’s something else going on.
“Gong Myeongdo!” Jin A-seol called cautiously, entering Ak-jeong’s quarters.
She had come to report that the tribute had been found.
“The tribute’s been found… ugh!”
Seeing Ak-jeong dead again shocked her.
“They were already dead, just like outside,” Myeongdo explained.
Jin A-seol calmed herself and nodded.
“We found the tribute. We should leave before staying here becomes… dangerous.”
Myeongdo understood. There was nothing more to learn by staying.
“Understood. We’ll leave shortly. Prepare yourselves.”
Jin A-seol nodded and went outside.
Myeongdo noticed a small safe inside, now empty.
“Did the master who killed them take their valuables? Haomun’s doing? Why?”
Haomun, like Nokrim, was part of Heukdo but had a different nature. Originally established for self-interest, it evolved into a martial sect.
“I don’t know,” Myeongdo muttered, shaking his head as he left Ak-jeong’s quarters.
Outside, Jin A-seol had prepared to leave with the tribute, gathering other items as well.
Since the items had no owner, she thought it fair to keep them to cover the costs of hiring Myeongdo and treating the injured Biao members.
“We’ll leave for Gwangju. Once we arrive, you will be rewarded accordingly,” Myeongdo said to the guards and messengers.
“Let’s go,” he said, leading the way. Jin A-seol followed, with the carts carrying the tribute and the horses trailing behind.
