Chapter 61
Yeol carefully scanned her surroundings.
“If the bridge had been destroyed long ago, word would’ve already spread throughout the Martial Alliance.”
But she hadn’t heard a thing before arriving here. Considering how quickly they had rushed over, that could only mean the bridge had fallen less than half a day ago.
“They can’t be too far.”
It didn’t take long for her to find a carriage abandoned on the roadside.
Even at a glance, it was a fine, high-quality carriage—but the inside was completely empty. Not even the horses remained.
That only increased the likelihood it belonged to Seol Seorin, since there was plenty worth stealing.
But the situation wasn’t good. The rain had grown heavy, washing away all tracks. Even so, there was one thing that stood out.
“They bled quite a bit.”
A puddle of red blood had pooled, leading toward the forest beside the road. Following the trail, it wasn’t long before a corpse appeared among the wet grass.
Jin Cheong-ak crouched down, inspecting the back of the man’s head, and said coldly,
“He’s dead.”
Yeol nudged the body with the tip of her boot, flipping it over.
Jin Cheong-ak examined the wound quietly before murmuring,
“This wasn’t an ordinary fighter. Let’s see… judging by this, he was killed instantly, without a chance to resist.”
A clean sword mark was left across the neck—so precise that life must’ve ended in a single strike.
Someone killed him on the spot, but an instant kill couldn’t have moved this far by itself.
“Someone moved the body here.”
And deeper inside the forest, another pool of blood awaited, as if guiding them onward.
The killer had left a trail that would easily expose itself upon closer inspection—likely due to excessive confidence in their own skill.
Yeol could picture a formidable expert moving calmly through the woods, much like the Blood-Sucking Sword Demon once did.
“And Seol Seorin would’ve been carrying quite a few silver coins, too…”
Yeol turned, walking in the opposite direction of the blood trail.
Jin Cheong-ak glanced at her and asked, “And our second destination?”
“The inn.”
Instead of returning to the Martial Alliance, they followed the road in reverse, tracing the path the carriage must have taken earlier. Eventually, a small village appeared.
In the quiet darkness, only one building still had its lights on—a riverside inn. Through the mist, she could faintly make out soaked wagons parked nearby, likely belonging to merchants who hadn’t managed to cross the river.
“Welcome! This is the Strong Wind Inn!”
Even at this late hour, the inn boy’s voice was bright and lively.
He bustled between the kitchen and the tables as though serving many guests, but in truth, there were only three patrons in the entire place.
The reason was obvious.
One of the tables was piled so high with food and drink that it looked ready to collapse under the weight.
Seated before it was a drenched, ragged old man, shoveling food into his mouth nonstop, while the boy hurried back and forth carrying even more dishes.
“Hehe, there’s still plenty more to come, sir! Please, take your time!”
Merchants were good judges of people.
When an unremarkable old man wandered in and ordered that much food and wine, any proper innkeeper’s first instinct should have been suspicion.
“But if he’s being served everything without question, it means he already paid upfront.”
From her seat at the far end of the room, Yeol extended a hand toward Jin Cheong-ak.
“Money.”
He gave a disbelieving laugh.
“Money? What makes you think a poor bodyguard like me has any to give you?”
“Credit at Chuihyangwon.”
With a sigh, he dropped two silver coins into her palm. Yeol lifted a hand, calling the inn boy over.
“Yes, miss! What would you like to order?”
She handed him a coin. The boy hesitated, looking startled.
“Ah, um… are you also ordering… at random, by the amount you’re paying?”
“Also?”
At her question, he glanced nervously toward the old man’s table and whispered,
“Yes, miss. Oddly enough, that old gentleman over there did the same thing earlier—paid first, then told me to just bring food and drink worth the cost.”
“How much?”
“Three! He gave me three silver coins! That’s enough to feast for days and still have money left over!”
I’ve lost already, Yeol thought.
But she wasn’t one for reckless spending—mainly because it felt like a waste.
“This isn’t for food.”
“Eh? N-not for food… then what for…?”
“For repairs.”
“…….”
“Any remaining balance—bill it to Chuihyangwon.”
Before the boy could respond, Yeol rose from her seat.
Every eye in the quiet inn followed her as she walked—raindrops still dripping from her cloak—to stand before the old man’s table.
The white-haired elder, eating with refined grace despite his shabby appearance, slowly lifted his head.
He wiped his greasy fingers neatly, poured himself another drink, and took a smooth, confident gulp before narrowing his eyes at Yeol’s veiled face.
“Hm. Judging by that jawline, quite the beauty, aren’t you?”
His tone was so calm and dignified that the compliment didn’t sound lecherous—just factual.
“There’s nothing more delicate than a beauty soaked in rain. If you’re hungry, why not sit? Fate, perhaps—let me treat you.”
Even his hand, gesturing to the chair opposite him, was immaculate, with not a speck of dirt beneath the nails.
Yeol wordlessly sat down.
“Inn boy! Another cup here!”
“Y-yes, sir!”
“At this hour, everyone here’s in the same boat. Tell me, young lady, are you also trying to cross the bridge?”
Yeol remained silent. The old man poured her a drink himself.
“I hesitate to say this upon first meeting, but your frame—your bones—are exceptional. One of the finest martial foundations I’ve ever seen. Were you planning to compete in the Martial Alliance tournament?”
“……”
“Shame things went awry. But what can we do? Heaven’s will is unfathomable. Best to accept fate with humility.”
Talkative old man.
With a soft clang, Yeol placed something onto the table, pushing aside a few plates.
A sword—an ordinary, plain long sword.
The old man’s endless chatter stopped instantly.
His eyes, which had been gentle moments ago, turned cold as he examined the weapon from hilt to sheath.
A low chuckle escaped him.
“How rude.”
“……”
“To place such a filthy sword atop the dinner table… Did no one teach you it’s improper to draw a blade during a meal?”
The air around him thickened. His aura sharpened.
Yeol feigned tension, rising slightly and bowing her head.
“…Forgive me. I acted rashly. I hadn’t realized I was in the presence of someone so extraordinary. My eagerness got the better of me.”
Could it be that he didn’t recognize the Blood-Sucking Sword Demon’s blade?
Then he’s no member of the Eight Demons. Likely a high-ranking rogue cultivator or a demonic sect master, at most.
Still bowing, she spoke clearly, one word at a time.
“I wish to apologize for my impulsiveness. May I at least learn your name, sir?”
The old man scoffed.
“Impudent girl! State your own name first!”
Yeol glanced briefly toward Jin Cheong-ak before replying,
“My name is Ye Sogun, eldest daughter of the Ye clan.”
She felt no reaction from Jin Cheong-ak—he remained perfectly still. Yeol waited, ears open, for the old man’s response.
“Ye clan? Never heard of it. Where is this Ye clan from?”
His tone was casual, indifferent.
Not the Demonic Sect, then.
That eliminated several possibilities—leaving only the Wandering Sovereigns.
“My family is humble and unremarkable. I hesitate to name it aloud. Now… may I finally know your esteemed name?”
The old man took another drink, then spoke in a deep, commanding voice.
“Listen carefully.”
“Yes.”
“I am—”
Before he could finish, Yeol seized the moment—flicking her wrist and unsheathing the Blood-Sucking Sword Demon’s blade in a single motion.
A flash of sword energy shot straight toward the old man’s face.
From nearby, Jin Cheong-ak’s exasperated voice sighed through the rain.
“Tsk tsk… fell for it again, did you.”
