Even if he’d just called him a drinking companion, Seodaeryong would have been moved—but Jangho had said “precious,” and that word carried extra weight.

Seodaeryong was deeply touched. A taciturn man’s unexpected kindness carried several times its usual strength.

Though it felt out of place with blood from the fallen masked man pooling at their feet, he spoke nonetheless.

“When we return, I’ll buy you a drink.”

He wanted to spend the night at a tavern with Jangho.

Ever since they’d met, Seodaeryong had admired Jangho. Watching him sit in silence, drinking steadily, he’d seemed utterly composed. Even the scar on his face added to his allure.

In hindsight, Jangho had been a landmark for Seodaeryong—proof that he could become a true martial artist.

‘I want to be like that.’

Oddly, the Little Pill Master was less attainable. Geom Mugeuk performed feats no ordinary person could imitate, walking a path beyond reach. Jangho, by contrast, was a realistic goal.

“I wish Ian were here, too,” Jangho said, and Seodaeryong felt a pang of longing.

“Indeed. I wonder what she’s doing.”

One thing was certain: she’d be growing stronger by the day.

“When I return, there’ll be plenty to discuss that night—both for you and me.”

Their reverie broke as screams and clashing weapons echoed from afar.

Seodaeryong jumped. “Shouldn’t we hurry?”

“Yes—let’s go.”

“I worry for our men’s safety.”

Seodaeryong wanted to run, but Jangho remained calm. Their mission today was to protect Seodaeryong above all.

And Jangho believed—

Those screams belonged to enemies.

Their massive frames weren’t born of mere appetite.

They were forged by bone-shaving effort, merciless training, and battlefield experience.

“We’ll be fine—we are the Magun, after all.”

Pride in his corps and unwavering faith in his men shone in Jangho’s voice.

Seodaeryong was witnessing what his last loyalty should be: not to the Chungcheong Pavilion investigator or the executioner’s blade, but to those who stood by him now.

“When we return, those puny Pavilion men will start hellish training.”

He’d lead by example.

He’d ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) learned much fighting the masked men today.

Unleashing Myeolma Do Hyeolpung consumed vast inner strength—and nearly cost him his life when he failed to manage it. He now knew firsthand that misjudged qi control could mean death.

‘I’ll train until I die. Sleep when I’m dead!’

Walking onward, Seodaeryong found himself surrounded by Magun.

On tiptoe amid their huge frames, he grinned at Jangho. “Yesterday I was surrounded by Extermination Corps warriors, today by the Magun. Ever had a life like this?”

Juwol held nothing back.

He charged masked men at the front. Though he resented Jeonha-gun’s orders and misjudged the situation, his loyalty and concern for his men burned fiercely.

Huaak!

His sword pierced a masked man’s throat. Without pause, he deflected a flying demonic blade.

He’d never gained his position by bribery or flattery.

“Cover the rear! Block the left!”

Roaring orders, he led his men in battle.

He could hardly believe it: so many protectors being attacked?

‘Demonic cult bastards!’

He was certain the attackers were Demonic Martial Artists—no other group would dare such a deed. Attacking the Martial Alliance division was tantamount to declaring war.

He shouted to a division warrior fighting ahead. “Watch yourself!”

Behind him, someone lunged a sword at Juwol’s back—yet the assailant wasn’t a masked man, but a Martial Alliance warrior in uniform.

Too late to dodge.

Shraaak! Kwang!

The attacker’s ribs shattered as a hulking Magun burst forward, smashing him aside with his massive body.

Those huge figures moved with blinding speed.

Another Magun vaulted into the air far off, swinging his sword mid-flight. A masked man firing demonic blades from a tree fell with the branch.

Today’s ambushers were of two kinds: masked assailants and those disguised in Martial Alliance garb.

‘Cowards!’

They’d struck from behind in Martial Alliance uniforms, killing their own. Such subterfuge worked because warriors from many divisions and branches had gathered—no one could tell friend from foe.

At first, the disguised attackers gained ground—but when the Magun joined the fight, the tide turned.

They first eliminated the masked men. They paid no heed to disguised foes, cutting down those who wore masks.

Jeonghyeok of the Extermination Corps noted their skill rivaled his own elite warriors. Many even surpassed them.

No wonder—only the best Magun were deployed here.

As Juwol watched the Magun battle, he nearly lost himself in admiration—until a blade whistled from behind.

He twisted away, but despair seized him. ‘Too late!’

Pook!

A sword in Martial Alliance uniform stopped inches from his face. The attacker fell—and Jangho stood behind him.

“Thank you.”

Jangho had saved his men from raining demonic blades—and now himself.

Seodaeryong’s gratitude, great though it was, met only a nod from Jangho.

The Magun with him surged forward, and with their aid, the hall was secured swiftly.

Once all masked assailants were eliminated, rooting out the hidden enemies proved easy.

“Form by division! Branches, gather!”

Disguised foes were revealed and cut down. Few were captured—those who failed to escape slit their own throats without hesitation. They were supremely trained.

By dawn, all enemies lay dead or fled.

The Martial Alliance warriors began cleaning up. The wounded were led away to heal, and the dead gathered.

Juwol exhaled. Without the Magun, losses would have been catastrophic—but they’d kept casualties minimal.

He turned to Jangho. “Thanks to you, we thwarted the cult’s attack.”

At that moment Seodaeryong intervened.

“Today’s attackers weren’t Martial Artists. They tried to kill me—did you know?”

Juwol looked at Jangho, incredulous. Jangho nodded.

“They truly sought to kill him.”

Juwol nearly said it could have been a ruse—but he’d never believed it wasn’t the cult’s doing. No other force would dare such a brazen strike.

Who else but the cult could attack a fully manned Martial Alliance division?

“Then who were they?”

Seodaeryong answered quietly. “Those who wish to sow discord between you and us.”

Juwol sighed and ordered his men. “Confirm the identities of the dead.”

“As you command.”

He turned to Seodaeryong. “You cannot leave until we uncover who’s behind this.”

“Even if you ordered it, I wouldn’t go.”

He had to stay until the Little Pill Master returned.

Jangho said, “We will remain until the Extermination Corps leader returns.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

In Juwol’s softened gaze lay the weight of a life debt.

He then asked Jeonghyeok with concern, “Do you think the master is safe?”

Attacking the Martial Alliance itself meant Jeonha-gun’s fate worried him.

Seodaeryong gave an enigmatic smile—one Juwol could not understand.

“Since someone even abandoned their right arm to follow, he will be fine.”

“There it is.”

Before them lay the villa.

Geom Mugeuk and Jeonha-gun stood some distance off, deep in the forest—far enough that the sign on the gate was barely visible.

Hyangsu Villa.

A quiet retreat far from civilization.

“I have operatives covertly investigating the villa. Results should arrive soon,” Jeonha-gun said.

“How did you learn the division chief was held here?” Geom Mugeuk asked.

“As you know, we’ve been searching all of Junggyeong for the missing division chief and his household,” Jeonha-gun replied.

No bodies had been found at Yunmyeong Manor, so hope remained that they lived.

“There were many people there that day, so I had every apothecary in Junggyeong watched—just in case they needed healing herbs.”

Soldiers on the search had long awaited this news.

“They bought large quantities of herbs for treating serious wounds. We traced the purchases, scoured nearby areas, and found this villa. We confirmed a Yunmyeong Manor martial artist was here.”

With that, there was no question: whether rescue or trap, they had to investigate.

“I pray the division chief and his household live. Let us begin the rescue at once.”

“But is this truly a rescue?” Geom Mugeuk mused.

Jeonha-gun met his gaze. “You find this timing—Yunmyeong Manor’s lord appears just as Chief Seo is captured—suspicious?”

Jeonha-gun admitted he, too, felt the oddity, but this was their sole lead. They must proceed even if it was a trap.

At that moment, an Extermination Corps messenger arrived breathlessly.

“Junggyeong division has been attacked.”

Jeonha-gun’s eyes widened. He’d expected trouble but not an assault on the division itself.

“What happened?”

“Reports say dozens dead or wounded.”

He clenched his jaw. While he and the Extermination Corps were absent, disaster struck. If this was deception—if there is nothing at the villa—

“What of those in the prison cell?”

“They survived.”

Geom Mugeuk exhaled in relief. Though Jangho and the Magun were dispatched, the unpredictable nature of martial affairs weighed on him.

“The attackers?”

“All killed.”

Jeonha-gun glanced at Geom Mugeuk. The fact the division chief lived and the enemy was eliminated indicated the Magun had performed superbly.

“Your judgment was correct. Thank you.”

Without their aid, losses would have dwarfed this. As always, the Little Pill Master’s insight proved unfailing.

“So this place was bait.”

He surmised they’d used the captured division chief to lure them here.

But Geom Mugeuk disagreed. “Perhaps not.”

Jeonha-gun asked what he meant.

“If this were the true conspiracy—”

Geom Mugeuk paused. “If we sounded an attack on the division, war won’t erupt. Our sect and the Martial Alliance aren’t that careless. But consider this: the damned deaths at Yunmyeong Manor and Daejeongmun…”

He let the thought hang: the Extermination Corps leader’s death.

“It would be another level entirely if those events were preparation for your demise.”

The disciple of Hyeolcheon Doma destroyed Yunmyeong Manor and Daejeongmun, then investigating men died at the cult’s hands—if it was all engineered…

Jeonha-gun stared at Geom Mugeuk in shock. The Demon Sect would be furious, too: their disciple died under Martial Alliance custody.

The two sides would clash—and the cult might scheme further.

“If my theory is correct—”

His deep gaze swept to the silent villa. “Someone there awaits, ready to kill both you and the Extermination Corps.”