TWSV 61

Chapter – 61

“Lord.”

A small skiff cut through the mist.

Jumun-gyu, seated at the bow, flicked water with his fingertips.

“Do you know the saying Chilshin-wira (漆身爲癩), Lord?”

Moyong Hwi, holding the oar, glanced back at him.

Chilshin-wira—to lacquer one’s body and disguise oneself as a leper in order to take revenge.

It originated from the tale of Yu Rang, the assassin recorded in The Biographies of Assassins.
As the commander of the Imperial Guard who had protected the royal house his entire life, Moyong Hwi could not possibly be unfamiliar with it.

The question was deliberate.

“What would you think of me becoming the Crown Prince of Yan?”

The oar slicing through the water halted.

Jumun-gyu’s voice continued from beyond the mist.

“Yu Rang coated his body in lacquer and swallowed charcoal to change his voice, yet he was satisfied with merely slashing his enemy’s sleeve before killing himself. A fool. If I were him, I would never have stopped there.”

“The Crown Prince of Yan is the son of a traitor.”

“I know.”

“You would become your enemy’s son?”

“I’ve lived my entire life as someone else already. You need not worry.”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“Lord.”

The hand that had been flicking water rose to touch Jumun-gyu’s face.

“Look at the bigger picture. With nothing more than this skin, everything can be reclaimed.”

A faint smile curved his lips.

“I will become him.”

Countless unspeakable events followed.

—T-the Prince of Yan at Hong Gate…
—…

An aged man over a hundred years old could not possibly hold back tens of thousands of martial masters and soldiers harboring treason.

—Are you a martial artist? You show signs of qi deviation in your later years.

Swallowing the backflow of blood, Moyong Hwi wandered the world for over a decade in search of the descendants of the lord he failed to protect.

—…Lord?

After many twists of fate, he managed to find the late emperor’s second son rather than the eldest.

—It’s the Imperial Army! They’ve defected as well!

The Yongle Emperor had spread eyes and ears as far as the frontier under the pretext of a grand expedition to hunt down his nephew’s descendants.

There was no time—
No time to gather allies,
No time left for Moyong Hwi.

—We seek revenge. Will you join us?

By chance, he encountered a group with similar goals.

They spoke of poisoning the Tang Clan during the Huanglin Assembly, where both civil and martial officials would gather.

—What will you do?

Though their purposes differed, their objective was the same.

After much deliberation, he joined them—but at the end, everything went awry.

—Contact with Poison Valley has been cut. The Bishop orders a change of plans.

With barely a month left until the decisive day—

—We may have to wait another ten years.
—…

Death’s blade was already pressed against Moyong Hwi’s throat.

Neither of them had time.

—Have you forgotten the doctrine?

Had the Tang Clan’s poison been used as planned at the Huanglin Assembly, the execution of the Chilshin-wira scheme would have been far easier.

—But our real goal was never the world’s justification first.
—It was you.

In the end, they succeeded in capturing the Prince of Yan—the one whose face Jumun-gyu would take.

—Why did you sheathe your sword?
—I received a request.
—A request?
—A dying wish from an old friend. To protect his descendants, no matter what.
—…
—Take him. Before my heart changes.

The Crown Prince of Yan became the son of a traitor.
The traitor’s son became Crown Prince.

Had Jumun-gyu, already transformed into the Crown Prince, been sent into Ilgeol’s arms, the lifelong dream of restoring the throne would have been realized.

—It’s a lie.
—Hm?
—That man is deceiving us.

Bishop Jinhwa.

—Suspend the Huanglin Assembly. Focus solely on recovering the Seven Great Treasures.

The child he had feared all along was about to ruin his life’s grand design.

—The Crown Prince himself… is not the Crown Prince.
—…!

He had to be killed.

Even if everything had to be sacrificed.

“Puhk.”

Moyong Hwi wiped the blood pouring from his nose.

His life would end soon regardless.
His dantian had been destroyed twenty years ago.

“Damn it! You still have innate qi—!”

BOOM!

With a strike filled with his very soul, Yong Sobek was blasted through solid rock and buried within.

Ilgeol still believed the child in his arms was the Crown Prince.
He would die before letting the heir come to harm.

That left only one target to silence.

Kill the child, finish Ilgeol—
and the restoration of the throne would be complete.

“How did you know?!”

The opposite foot struck Gang-gu’s chest.

BANG!

“Ugh!”

Gang-gu was flung through the stone wall, tumbling until he barely caught himself on a massive tree.

His arm, which had blocked the kick, was grotesquely swollen.

“Ahh…”

He knew Moyong Hwi’s next attack would come immediately.

Even so, he couldn’t avoid it.

It hurt—terribly.

“…!”

The old beggar was already charging at him, sword drawn.

The momentum was terrifying—but running wasn’t an option.

—Grandfather.

Gang-gu had often wondered—

—Why do the heroes in your stories always save their strongest move for last?

The scholarly old man of the village had laughed.

“So the story has enough length, and a proper beginning, middle, and end.”

“Enough!”

Now was not the time for such thoughts.

From the very beginning—
Use the strongest move appropriate for the situation.

Gang-gu thrust both hands forward.

“Sa—!”

Moyong Hwi’s eyes flashed as he closed in.

The technique looked crude at a glance—but the energy swirling within the boy’s palms was anything but.

Daylight dimmed.
Sound vanished in an instant.

The child’s hands swallowed everything beyond the cave.

Cold sweat ran down Moyong Hwi’s spine as he realized the technique.

“Yi-hua Jie-yu Divine Art (移花接玉神功)…?!”

Grinding his teeth, he forced his qi into reverse circulation.

Bones shattered.
Teeth broke.

Yet his sword still aimed for Gang-gu’s hands.

Woooo—

Radiant light leaked through the gaps between the boy’s fingers.

Samra (森羅).

“Sa-al…!”

But—

“!”

Moyong Hwi barely diverted the trajectory.

The blade skimmed past Gang-gu’s hand, heading for his throat.

“Late Emperor—!”

He poured everything into that single strike—for the true heir who would bear the hardest fate of all.

Just as the golden current was about to pierce the child’s slender neck—

“…Not that. Bori.”

The light scattered like an illusion.

Gang-gu spun and drew his sword in a flash.

A pure white blade pierced directly into the diverted path.

A shortest, straight thrust.

It had been aimed for this moment from the start.

“Ridiculous!”

Moyong Hwi detonated every last drop of qi.

Five jang of sword energy erupted.

Then—

BOOOOM!

Sword met sword.

The shockwave tore through the mountain.

Gang-gu was blasted back more than ten steps.

Moyong Hwi pressed forward.

If he cut the child down now, the Chilshin-wira scheme would succeed.

“…!”

Something felt wrong.

Instead of pushing, his sword felt as if it were being pulled.

Beyond his will.

A sensation he knew too well.

“No…”

His sword energy twisted wildly.

“Do—Doutian Xingyi (斗轉星移)…?!”

The blade crumpled midair.

Disbelief filled his eyes.

Impossible.

He was the first—and last—to ever master it.

Even the Moyong Clan had joined the rebellion only for the chance to learn it.

Then how—

“Don’t tell me…”

He had used it once—only once—before the Prince of Yan.

Had the child learned it just by seeing it?

Bishop Jinhwa’s final words echoed.

—What are you afraid of?

Now he knew.

“This… this was it.”

What heaven-defying talent.

“Puhk.”

Blood poured from all seven orifices.

The old body collapsed.

Kneeling, barely holding on, he spat black blood.

“I kept my promise… so…”

With his final strength—

“Do not… seek His Majesty…”

His head fell.

Thus ended the life of a supreme master who had protected the imperial house for a lifetime—the first commander of the Imperial Guard.

Gang-gu clasped his hands solemnly.

“May you find peace in your next life.”

He rushed to the collapsed wall.

After digging for some time, he found Yong Sobek buried beneath.

“G-Grandfather!”

Bloodied eyes blinked.

“Why are you shouting—hurry up and pull me out…”

Yong Sobek was still holding the Prince of Yan.

Aside from minor wounds, the child was unharmed.

Moyong Hwi’s calculations had been perfect—Yong Sobek had protected him with everything he had.

“Damn it. Had I known he was such a bastard, I’d’ve dropped him earlier.”

Lying spread-eagle, Yong Sobek panted.

He glanced at Gang-gu.

Then spoke unexpectedly.

“The one who attacked the emperor first was that deposed bastard’s father. He tried to strengthen imperial authority by checking his brothers and uncles.”

He was worried about the boy.

“The current emperor is no saint either. He slaughtered children in Jiangsu under the lie of a plague.”

Gang-gu was kind-hearted.

Yong Sobek feared he would blame himself.

After a long silence, the boy replied—

“It’s providence.”

Yong Sobek exhaled softly.

“…Yes. Providence.”

Perfect.

“I give up. You’re not a vessel I can fill.”

“What?”

“I’m giving up on making you my successor.”