“Show me, uncle.”

Had Hwi been excited, Geom Mugeuk might have tried to stop him—but he remained calm as ever. This battle was neither impulsive nor driven by emotion.

To a loyal man who had lived his life as a guard, it was a solemn warning to assassins and the inevitable clash of two diametrically opposed destinies.

“Show them that assassins have no place but hell, uncle.”

The moment Geom Mugeuk finished speaking, Hwi leapt forward without hesitation.

Hwi, who had always seemed only to parry attacks, now charged headlong at his enemy.

The Salwang also met him blade to dagger, refusing to dodge. His eyes were even more transparent now, filled with an emotion impossible to name—yet one thing was clear.

He acknowledged his opponent.

Ka-ang!

Their weapons met with a clear metallic ring.

Both were unseen warriors of the hidden world, moving in secrecy to achieve their aims. This was their duel.

Hwi’s swordsmanship was the peerless art passed down to the Demon Sect’s head bodyguards: Ma-ryeong Suho Sword Technique (마령수호검법). It was based on swift cutting sword art, honed for guards who must react to ambush at a moment’s notice.

In contrast, the Salwang wielded the legendary art of the Deathly Emperor, the king of assassins three centuries past: Assassination Dagger Technique (암살비격술). Known as a myth among killers.

Hwi pressed forward fiercely.

Geom Mugeuk had always seen him serene—today he discovered this raw ferocity. Hwi fought like a reckless warrior who never gives ground.

Sparks flew as sword met dagger.

Assassination Dagger Technique likewise prized speed, making their exchanges invisible to the eye. Any lapse would spell death.

Chwah!

Hwi’s blade drew a half-circle through the air, aiming to cleave the Salwang in two.

Ka-ang!

The Salwang parried and immediately thrust three daggers, each seeking vital points.

Hwi’s blade leapt upward in defence, then drove down in a rapid counter—three stabs raining upon the Salwang.

The Salwang slid back, evading with equally astonishing footwork, his technique worthy of his reputation.

The Salwang hunted Hwi’s life; Hwi sought to sever the Salwang’s body. Their weapons, forged with murderous intent, played a swift and deadly duet.

Cheng! Cheng-cheng! Cha-chae-chae-chaeng!

Flames sparked at each clash, as if fireworks burst around them.

It was a dazzling showcase of defensive sword art against assassination technique.

They brushed past each other, vaulted, advanced, retreated, collided, and fell—bodies and blades moving in perfect blurs. Blood sprayed as edges grazed flesh.

How had the Salwang lived quietly with such mastery? And how had Hwi’s art become so splendid?

Under Hwi’s ferocity, the Salwang was on the back foot.

He had never struck first—Hwi’s usual restraint seemed to say:

“We only spared you.”

Momentarily disconcerted, the Salwang revealed surprise at Hwi’s strength. Myeongshin, watching, realized he had survived their fight only because of Hwi’s might.

Yet the Salwang was no ordinary foe—he had blocked every blow thus far.

It was a truly even match.

Though Geom Mugeuk hoped and believed Hwi would prevail, he remained tense.

‘Uncle!’

Had the opponent not been the Salwang, he would not feel this anxiety.

Would he leave it all to Hwi? Absolutely not. The instant Hwi was in danger, he would intervene—no hesitation, even if Hwi later scolded him.

Hwi and the Salwang: their lives were incomparable. Not for a thousand Salwangs would he trade Hwi’s safety.

He recalled his father’s words:

“If you lead Hwi, you bear responsibility.”

And in this moment, he truly did.

‘I will take responsibility, Father.’

Then—

Shiiik!

Someone ambushed Geom Mugeuk from behind.

Cha-aeng!

Geom Mugeuk whirled, parrying with his sword, and made a “shh” gesture.

“Wait a moment! This is the critical point.”

He looked back to Hwi and the Salwang’s fight.

It was indeed a desperate moment.

Something burst from the Salwang’s hand.

Papapak!

A small cylinder, the thickness of a finger, slid from his left hand and fired poison needles.

Cheng-cheng-cheng!

Hwi deflected the needles with his sword and vaulted upward. Anticipating a follow-up, he turned defence into offence mid-air.

Papapapak!

The Salwang, unfazed, evaded. Hwi had foreseen this ruse, for it was odd for an assassin to fight head-on like this.

Only then did Geom Mugeuk turn to the hidden assassin behind him.

His sword was already embedded in that man’s heart—Geom Mugeuk had killed him without looking back.

Turning, he surveyed the street. People peeked from windows, spectating the battle. Many were likely assassins prowling for opportunity.

Geom Mugeuk said to Myeongshin, “Come, let us go!”

He meant to eliminate every assassin. They could not predict how these killers might interfere, so it was best to cut them down swiftly.

Yet even now, Geom Mugeuk’s senses were on Hwi’s fight.

Though he appeared to watch only one side, he perceived both—a mastery only true experts wield.

“Very well,” Myeongshin said, still incredulous that he stood allied with the Demon Sect’s Little Pill Master against the Salwang. Just days ago such a life was unimaginable.

‘Yes, I must carry out the contract I accepted.’

They strode forward together.

Some onlookers—surely assassins—pretended to gawk but were ready to strike.

Shik-shik-shik-shik!

Myeongshin’s daggers whizzed by, but—

Pook!

Geom Mugeuk’s sword, least expected, found its mark.

“Choose them all!” Geom Mugeuk called.

Myeongshin nodded—their gesture signified severing ties with the Underworld and all its assassins.

Then something cascaded from the upper floor.

Chwaa-reu-reu-reuk.

Star-shaped hidden blades littered the street below—spikes ready to slow pursuers. Step on one, and its poison would paralyze.

But these were no ordinary blades.

“Be careful where you step!” Geom Mugeuk warned.

“Out of my way!” Myeongshin shouted.

At that instant, the blades on the ground exploded outward.

Pak-pak-pak-pak-pak-pak!

Spikes rocketed in all directions—no one would expect a hidden-blade trap to detonate.

But Geom Mugeuk, forewarned, dodged with ease.

“Surely you made these too?”

“I’m afraid I did.”

“Save this technique for me later!”

“If we survive this.”

Geom Mugeuk bounded up to the floor above—the very spot where he’d scattered the blades.

Kkwa-jik.

He smashed through the window and flew into the room.

Shiiik!

A dagger from beside the window grazed his face.

The moment he shattered the glass, he sensed the knife. And beneath the bed, another hidden blade aimed at his ankle—a perfect ambush.

Pook! Pook!

Geom Mugeuk was already standing on the bed, his sword driven into the mattress.

But the room’s traps were not done.

A cupboard burst open, revealing another assassin.

Shik-shik-shik-shik-shik-shik!

He wielded a miniature repeating crossbow, firing bolts with tremendous force.

Puk! Puk! Puk! Puk!

The wall by Geom Mugeuk exploded with holes.

Yet simultaneously, the assassin slumped; a dagger—one Myeongshin had gifted—protruded from his forehead.

Looking back out the window, Geom Mugeuk saw two ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) assassins attacking Myeongshin from below.

They were not common killers but elite assassins of the Silent Blade—posing as cloth merchants and shophands: the Black Shadow Twins.

They struck Myeongshin from both sides, disguises irrelevant against him. Killing him was the only way to preserve their cover.

Myeongshin was wounded in the arm, yet he proved the merit of having earned the Second Greatest’s rank not by chance.

On the rooftop beyond, Hwi and the Salwang continued their invisible clash.

Geom Mugeuk watched neither weapons nor bodies but their eyes.

‘They can win.’

Hwi’s skill was like an unbreakable battlement. The Salwang must have felt it most keenly.

The Salwang fired a volley of hidden blades to widen the distance.

At that very moment!

The Salwang’s dagger glowed white.

‘Danger!’

Geom Mugeuk sensed the Salwang was preparing a great technique. Just as he moved to intervene, he glanced at Hwi—unpetrified, calm.

A silver radiance shone from the Salwang’s dagger tip.

The next instant!

Sswaa-aaaaang!

Dozens of silver deadly energies rained upon Hwi.

Flying Sword Light Rain (비검광우), one of the secret moves of Assassination Dagger Technique.

Against this, Hwi’s sword began to trace patterns in the air.

Cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-chak!

Geom Mugeuk saw the sword-walls forming before Hwi—like a spider’s web spun in moments: the ultimate defence of Ma-ryeong Suho Sword Technique, the Guardian Sword Wall (수호검벽).

He had never seen Hwi erect such a barrier.

Kwah! Kwaang! Kwah-kwah-kwah! Kwah-kwah!

The silver energies shattered against the sword-wall, scattering like fractured light. The attack was blocked.

The Salwang, surprised that Flying Sword Light Rain could be stopped, finally admitted:

“Cult leader’s guard.”

And truly admired:

“Better than the rumors.”

Hwi stood silently, sword lowered.

Then—

Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!

A dozen assassins fell to the ground on either side of the Salwang—each clearly of exceptional skill.

As though his sole aim were to kill Hwi, the Salwang charged forward with them.

Even against one Salwang, the battle had been razor-thin. Now multiplied by a dozen.

Yet Hwi did not falter or flee. A guard must remain calm in such moments.

He thought of his master standing behind him, of his Little Pill Master. In that conviction lay twice, thrice his strength.

“Assassins belong in hell!” Hwi repeated the words Geom Mugeuk had spoken earlier—yet now they rang with greater weight.

He grasped his sword with renewed vigor and charged. He would not retreat: behind him stood his master, his leader, and his pride as head of the Demon Sect’s guards.

Just then, Geom Mugeuk’s voice came from behind.

“Do not be lonely, uncle! We are on your side!”

In the next heartbeat—

Ssssssssst.

The assassins charging Hwi froze in terror.

For at their flanks, something had spread out like wings.

Terrifying fiends—demons born of Geom Mugeuk’s Nine Flames Martial Arts Grand Extermination.

All but the demon cloaking Hwi duplicated and unfurled at his sides like wings.

Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa!

The demons charged with Hwi.