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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: cyno
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The spark of resurgencehas not been extinguished.
First-class assassin of the Blood Edge.
White Blade Lord of the Murim Alliance.
Namgoong Bin’s hidden blade.
The commonality between these three titles? They were all, at one time, hunters.
Seasoned hunters who always stood in the position of predators, eliminating their targets wherever and whenever.
Yet now, the White Blade Death King was trembling.
His narrow, slit-like eyes, which had remained sharp even in the presence of the Sword Venerable, Blade Venerable, and Water Venerable, were now wide open.
“Speak. We’ll talk after your punishment.”
“…….”
“You know the rule—to leave the main sect, you must forfeit one of your limbs. You’ve preserved them well until now, so hand it over.”
How could anyone answer so readily when told to choose which of their own limbs to lose?
For a martial artist—especially an assassin like the White Blade Death King—limbs were indispensable.
An assassin without a sword uses a dagger; without a weapon, they use their nails; without arms, they use their teeth.
The moment even one limb is lost, the balance of all the martial arts they’ve honed shatters.
No stance will ever be perfect again.
That’s precisely why the Blood Edge’s condition for leaving the sect is severing a limb.
If they won’t live by the blade, then they must dull the blade itself.
Compared to crippling the meridians like other martial sects, this punishment is far lighter—yet in a way, it’s even crueler, leaving them permanently disabled and unable to leave the martial world.
“Are you afraid?”
“C-Can’t you just… let me go?”
“An assassin’s blade must never carry emotion. No matter how pitiful you act, I won’t show mercy. Hurry up and hand it over.”
“Ugh…….”
Finally, the White Blade Death King offered a part of his body.
A part that, even if severed, wouldn’t disrupt his physical balance.
“……Cut this, please.”
As he presented his lower body, Hong Lian frowned, her delicate brows twisting as she shut her eyes tightly.
“Do you not know what ‘limbs’ mean?”
“It’s more precious than any limb.”
“Disgusting. I don’t want to dirty my blade with that.”
“…….”
“I vowed only to lay eyes on my dear enemy’s, yet you dare make me break that oath? Pull your pants up before I skin you alive.”
“I-I’m serious about this…….”
“Playing clever, are we? Fine. I’ll do it myself.”
His desperate ploy had been rejected.
Before he could fully despair, the dagger in Hong Lian’s hand blurred—
Thud.
A sound far heavier than when Namgoong Bin’s ear had fallen echoed as something hit the ground. The White Blade Death King collapsed, clutching his right arm.
The veins bulging on his forehead betrayed the agony he was enduring.
“Tsk tsk. Should’ve known better than to act recklessly. Be grateful I only took your right arm. I considered your years of loyal service as both an assassin and a spy for the Murim Alliance.”
“G-Ghhaa…! Th-Thank you……!”
“No need. I spared your leg so you can still deliver my message to Namgoong Bin. Had I taken it, you wouldn’t have been able to walk.”
“…I-I offer my deepest gratitude for the Sect Leader’s boundless wisdom…!”
“Tsk. Empty flattery. Now, let’s finish our conversation.”
Plop—
Hong Lian sat cross-legged in front of the White Blade Death King, who was still bleeding profusely on the ground.
“Why did you flee the main sect? Why did you join Namgoong Bin’s ranks?”
Her voice carried no killing intent—only pure curiosity. Gritting his teeth, the assassin answered.
“I… swore to live by his blade! If I had left the Blood Edge through proper channels… I could never have become his true weapon! I had no choice……!”
“I see. Then why did you return? To run away again?”
“O-Once the Sect Leader’s eyes were on me… I knew I couldn’t escape! If I hid longer and was caught… there’d be no going back……!”
“Hmm. A slippery little eel, aren’t you? A wise decision.”
“…….”
An uncomfortable silence followed.
For Hong Lian, it was time to ponder her next question. For the White Blade Death King, it was time to swallow dryly.
Restlessness.
An occupational hazard for assassins who’d lived their entire lives under orders.
Hong Lian, one of the rare assassins who gave orders rather than followed them, had never experienced this.
“Does your master know you were once an assassin of the main sect?”
“No. I couldn’t reveal that.”
“He’ll find out soon enough. What’s the point? Still, don’t go blabbing about the Blood Edge’s secrets. If you do, I’ll separate your head from your shoulders and serve it to your master in a stew.”
“…Understood.”
“Then, even knowing you’d be caught, you came to the main sect to request the Sword Saint’s assassination on his orders?”
“Yes.”
“Such loyalty. To obey even knowing this would happen. Does Namgoong Bin have some hold over you I don’t know about?”
“…….”
“No need to look so tense. I couldn’t care less about that trash.”
With neither side hiding anything, the interrogation didn’t last long.
Swallowing nervously in the uneasy silence, the White Blade Death King hesitantly asked:
“A-Aren’t you going to ask… more?”
“About what?”
“Why… I serve my current master…….”
“Not interested. Why should I care about the affairs of insignificant worms?”
“Ugh…….”
“Just deliver my message to that bastard. A few misplaced words won’t matter, but the meaning must be exact.”
“…Yes. Speak.”
Thanks to decades of experience, the bleeding from his severed right arm had already stopped.
His complexion was slowly stabilizing—
Until the words that flowed from Hong Lian’s pink lips reached his ears.
“First, thank you. Thanks to Namgoong Bin, that man… the Sword Saint remained unmarried.”
“……? Wh-What do you mean……?”
“But gratitude is gratitude. From now on, quit your scheming. I don’t appreciate my future husband’s reputation being tarnished. Well? Can you remember that much?”
“W-Wait… You knew…? That our master was the one who brought down the Sword Saint……?”
“I didn’t. Not originally. But recently, I heard something interesting from a cute sister-in-law. And not long ago, Namgoong Bin himself requested the Sword Saint’s assassination. Who stood to gain the most from his downfall, whether in power or wealth? None other than Namgoong Bin.”
“……!”
‘This is bad…!’
The White Blade Death King’s pupils shook violently.
The worst possible scenario had unfolded.
‘What do I do……?’
The Sword Saint was someone who had to be brought down with extreme caution.
A flawless hero, through and through.
That’s why, even now, they were meticulous in silencing all loose ends.
‘Damn it all…!’
The Sword Saint’s resurgence.
Namgoong Bin’s greatest fear.
The masses loved raising heroes, tearing them down, and then lifting them back up again.
They were ugly like that. They adored seeing a hero who once soared the heavens fall to the mud—
And then, paradoxically, they’d worship him again once he rose back up.
At least, that was Namgoong Bin’s belief—and the White Blade Death King agreed.
They had succeeded in bringing down the Sword Saint, once the greatest martial artist in the land, without him even drawing his blade.
But just as those who rise by the sword may fall by it, the Sword Saint—who fell by rumor—could just as easily rise again by rumor.
And even if he remained in disgrace, the masses would still worship him in times of crisis.
Hadn’t the Three Venerables themselves come seeking his help not long ago?
They’d even mentioned that the Divine Monk, now in seclusion, still believed in the Sword Saint’s innocence.
So, they killed everyone who knew the truth.
Anyone who wasn’t Namgoong Bin’s true subordinate was given a fabricated death.
But… what about the Death Saint before him?
‘We can’t kill her.’
Even if they threw everything they had at her, even if the Nine Sects and Five Great Families joined forces, they might still lose.
An ambush? Poison? How?
Even if they tried, nothing would work on the Death Saint—the undisputed greatest assassin in the world.
‘Tch……!’
Though she was one of the Five Peaks like the Divine Monk, the latter was manageable.
He was in seclusion, and even if he believed in the Sword Saint’s innocence, he didn’t know their identities.
But from what she just said, the Death Saint was different.
She knew exactly.
And with a reputation no one could ignore, the moment she spoke, the tables could turn.
Especially with the Blood Cult’s recent activities stirring unrest.
‘Sigh…….’
The White Blade Death King racked his brains desperately—
But Hong Lian’s next words, spoken softly, froze him in place.
“I hear it. The sound of your scheming little mind at work.”
“……!”
“Before I crush your skull and deliver it to Namgoong Bin, go and deliver my message.”
“Ghh…! Y-Yes…!”
His composure shattered, the pain of his wound flaring anew as he staggered to his feet.
Clutching the Death Saint’s message, his retreating figure looked pitiful in a way he couldn’t quite place.
Hong Lian watched him go, murmuring to herself:
“It seems our reunion will be delayed a little longer…….”
With a coquettish tone unbefitting the Death Saint, she added:
“Will you forgive me for this, my dear enemy?”
****
Clatter—
Having stayed at the Namgoong Estate for so long, Yoo So-eun’s frail body flinched at the unfamiliar jostling of the carriage.
Namgoong Sua, who had been quietly watching her, handed over a freshly poured cup of tea.
“Just made it. It’s warm. Drink.”
“Ah… Mm… Thanks.”
Despite the smooth journey, Yoo So-eun seemed strangely fragile.
Sua sighed worriedly before asking:
“You’ve been troubled lately, haven’t you?”
“Huh? N-No… I’m fine…….”
“Think of this trip as a chance to rest. We’re not just going to the Seven Blossoms Tournament—we’ll stop here and there to relax too.”
“Huh? Sua, shouldn’t you be training? Aren’t you pushing yourself too much for my sake?”
“……That’s not it. Just drink your tea. Seeing you like this makes me anxious.”
Slurp—
As Yoo So-eun obediently sipped, Namgoong Sua leaned out the window, gazing outside.
Instinctively, her eyes turned toward Taiyuan in Shanxi.
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