Chapter 65
Dangerous Kiss
Bang-woo, who had quickly composed himself, sprang to his feet and, upon recognizing Yeo-il, immediately lowered his guard.
“…Senior Sister?”
When their clear eyes met — not filled with hostility but with relief — the short, fleeting moments of their shared past flashed through Yeo-il’s mind like a lantern slide.
[“Tch! Bang-woo, you unlucky bastard… You think you’re something special? Once you’re out in the martial world, guys like you are nothing but common riffraff! Stop acting all high and mighty!”]
[“…That friend of yours sure is loud every single time.”]
[“Ah, Senior Brother Bang-woo? Yeah… He’s not on the best terms with the others. Guess you could say he’s a bit too rigid.”]
[“He’s got the face of a stubborn man.”]
[“Right? It’s not that he says anything wrong — he’s just too blunt. You know how that rubs people the wrong way. And since he’s also the most skilled among us, that makes him a target of jealousy…”]
Their first meeting.
Seon-hye’s awkward smile as she spoke.
[“Bang-woo. Stop following me.”]
[“I just don’t understand, Senior Sister Yeon-woo. How can someone at your age reach such a realm? How do you even train for that…?”]
[“Through spiritual cultivation.”]
[“Is it… facing-the-wall meditation?”]
[“No. You just have to overcome a past where you lost your parents and friends in a village reduced to ashes.”]
[“…”]
[“I’m joking.”]
That moment — when the usually emotionless boy, who showed nothing but cold indifference outside of swordsmanship, had looked completely lost for the first time.
[“Stop staring.”]
[“…Yes. My apologies, Senior Sister Yeon-woo.”]
[“What are you staring at anyway? You like my face that much?”]
[“Huh? No, it’s not that… Your scar, I mean…”]
[“You don’t like seeing my scar? Want me to cover it?”]
[“No, absolutely not! Please don’t ever do that.”]
[“Then what?”]
[“…Senior Sister Seon-hye said she admired that scar of yours. I just thought of that.”]
That day, when Seon-hye had stuck her tongue out playfully while standing close beside Bang-woo—
[“Idiot. When did I ever say that? You’re the one who kept bringing it up!”]
[“…I never did.”]
[“You did! You totally did! Senior Sister Yeon-woo, you know how much he adores that scar of yours? Last summer, Senior Brother Poong-woon said something about your scar, and this guy practically flew at him like a tiger—”]
[“Be quiet. I challenge you to a duel, Senior Sister Seon-hye.”]
[“What? No way!”]
Those noisy days, when the two of them chirped and quarreled around Yeo-il like restless little birds.
[“Bang-woo.”]
[“….”]
[“Just listen. As you’ve probably guessed, you’ve fallen into deviation — qi deviation. My voice won’t last much longer.”]
[“….”]
[“I’ll help you balance your qi. Focus with all you’ve got.”]
That night — when, in the process of breaking through the tangled energy inside him, Yeo-il’s consciousness brushed against Bang-woo’s lips and glimpsed the dark pain hidden in his heart.
“Senior Sister Yeon-woo… I’m so glad you’re safe…”
Ye-il never once thought that sentiment suited her.
“Bang-woo! You mustn’t come closer! Hurry… hurry and run!”
“…Master?”
“Cough… Foolish boy! I told you… not to come near…”
“Master! Open your eyes, please, Master!”
Looking down at Bang-woo, who was desperately shaking his teacher’s cooling body, Yeo-il swallowed the words that had reached her lips.
That I’m not someone worth your grief.
“Damn it, what is this… Senior Sister Seon-hye? No… it can’t be… Senior Sister Seon-hye!”
She wanted to tell him that countless disciples — and innocent lives — had perished at the hands of that wrinkled old man’s very fingers. That under the sacred name of Mount Hwasan lay a truth buried in blood and deceit.
But that day would never come.
“Senior Sister Yeon-woo.”
Ye-il tightened her grip on the Moon Sword as she looked into Bang-woo’s eyes — eyes that held the purest, rawest despair she had ever seen.
“Why… why is that vile mark engraved upon your back…?”
Once was enough to let him go.
Ye-il swung her sword. Bang-woo instinctively drew his blade to block.
Each time she moved, the torn fabric over her back — slashed open by the sect leader — flapped, scattering drops of blood. On her bare skin blazed the symbol that had thrown the martial world into chaos:
The mark of the Slaughter Demon Sect — a black dragon.
“…Why.”
Bang-woo gritted his teeth until blood seeped from his gums, pushing himself upright. His trembling legs held firm only through sheer betrayal.
“Why! Why do you wield the Moon Sword?!”
His strikes came for her shoulders, her chest, her waist — fierce but unfocused. The blade trembled so violently that its edge was dull, its power chaotic.
“…Tell me it’s a lie.”
Then the Moon Sword’s glow illuminated him.
Tears glistened in his eyes as he pleaded.
“Tell me it’s all a lie… say it’s a misunderstanding— damn it all!”
What warrior could be weaker than one who’s lost his calm?
Tap.
With a light strike, Bang-woo’s eyes fluttered closed and his legs buckled beneath him.
The man in black who had stopped him — the Red Dragon in Black Blade — stood there holding a small jar, meeting Ye-il’s gaze in silence. After a long pause, he finally spoke.
“As always, witnesses must live.”
“…”
“If you’re not here to kill, then leave. I’ve already checked the contents. It’s genuine.”
His figure vanished soundlessly into the storm of snow, like a gust of wind swallowed by the blizzard.
Soon after, Ye-il sensed movement nearby — disciples likely coming to check on their master’s unusually silent state.
The Moon Sword’s glow faded.
She looked once at Bang-woo, once at Seon-hye, and then began to walk — away from Mount Hwasan.
A place she would never return to.
Fortunately, the rain stopped before dawn.
Leaving the inn, Ye-il and Jin Cheong-ak waited for the river’s current to subside before crossing.
Beneath the collapsed bridge, sturdy ropes connected both sides of the gorge for emergencies. Thanks to that, Ye-il managed to cross the weakened flow with Seol Seo-rin in her arms.
As the faint light of dawn crept over the mountain ridge, they decided to rest inside a cave.
“The Moon-Sword Assassin…”
Who on earth had taken up the name she had long abandoned?
Inside the damp cave, Ye-il and Jin Cheong-ak looked at each other, as if they had wordlessly agreed to speak.
“Jin Cheong-ak.”
He frowned slightly, perhaps surprised that she had spoken first, and nodded.
Ye-il recalled her memory of Bang-woo.
“When I fell into qi deviation…”
“…”
“You said you broke through my meridians yourself — and glimpsed my past. You couldn’t resist it, could you?”
Jin Cheong-ak tilted his head, looking amused.
“My, my. You’re finally bringing that up? You usually avoid even mentioning it. Curious about what I saw?”
“Not really.”
“Didn’t think so. You’ve experienced it yourself, haven’t you?”
So he had seen even that far. Jin Cheong-ak really was insufferable.
He gazed at the fading drizzle outside and replied quietly,
“Maybe it’s different for you, but I couldn’t resist it. It was like being dragged under — sinking endlessly, like I’d fallen into a swamp…”
A swamp, huh? That was quite different from her own experience.
Ye-il had cut through Bang-woo’s memories simply because they interfered with her effort to clear his qi flow — any hesitation could’ve endangered them both.
But Jin Cheong-ak not only absorbed all my memories, he even succeeded in breaking through my meridians afterward.
He was, by all rights, a man worthy of the title savior — though she had no intention of ever calling him that.
“So, Ye-il,” he said with a faint, shadowed smile, “don’t go blaming me for knowing you too well. You know I risked my life for that too.”
Then, with a teasing lilt:
“Or… do you hate this Jin Cheong-ak so much that you’d rather blame everything on me? Is that it?”
