At Bu Eunseol’s words, Namgung Un, who had been lying down, sprang to his feet.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Crossing his arms with a confident expression, he said, “Sure, my martial arts may not match Brother Seol’s, but I’m not so weak as to fall to those Valley of Hidden Death rats.”
“Have you ever fought assassins?” Bu Eunseol asked.
“No, but… what’s so special about cowards who only strike from behind?”
“Assassins are strong. Especially in the mountains, they’re nearly invincible.”
“Hahaha! Invincible assassins?” Namgung Un laughed.
Bu Eunseol replied coldly, “Large-scale battles in the mountains are different from dueling. Especially at night, in the depths of a dark forest.”
During his time in the Hell Realm, Bu Eunseol had experienced all manner of battles. Fighting multiple enemies in the mountains at night was a perilous situation where one’s life could be snuffed out at any moment.
And if the enemies were assassins? No matter how skilled a martial artist, their life would almost certainly be forfeit.
“Battling assassins in the mountains will grant you greater insight than fighting martial artists in the martial world a hundred times over,” Bu Eunseol said in a low voice. “If you survive, that is.”
“If what you say is true, we’re as good as dead,” Namgung Un replied.
“We’ll see.”
Seeing Bu Eunseol flash a toothy grin, Namgung Un’s face twisted in unease. “Are you saying scouts will really come here?” Instead of answering, Bu Eunseol gave a faint smile, and Namgung Un felt as though a dark reaper loomed behind him.
“Oh, I think I’ve gotten myself into trouble.” Shivering, Namgung Un flopped back down. “Damn it. I came to gain martial world experience, not to die.”
Around the third watch of the night, when even the chirping of insects had faded, the Munlight was shrouded by clouds, and the world was cloaked in silence.
If the assassins from the Valley of Hidden Death were planning a sneak attack, this would be the perfect moment. Bu Eunseol stood rigidly, while Black Leopard remained by his side. Namgung Un, seemingly asleep, was snoring loudly.
Suddenly, Bu Eunseol’s eyes gleamed in the darkness. “They’re coming, as expected.”
As Black Leopard tilted his head, Namgung Un, sensing something, quickly got up.
Rustle, rustle. It sounded like the chirping of insects or the brushing of cloth against branches.
“Judging by the sound of their steps, there are at least twenty,” Black Leopard said, pressing his ear to the ground.
Bu Eunseol stood calmly and said, “No need to wait. Strike first.”
“Me?” Black Leopard swallowed hard.
He knew well the terror of assassins, especially those from the Valley of Hidden Death, who were seasoned in night raids and might be immune to hidden weapon techniques.
“Forget about defeating them,” Bu Eunseol said. “All you need to do is hold them off.”
“Hold them off… and that’s enough?”
“Yes. As long as you can.”
“Understood.”
At Bu Eunseol’s words, Black Leopard took a deep breath, deployed his movement technique, and stretched out both arms toward the approaching figures. Thin, round hidden weapons flew chaotically.
It was the Flying Flash Blood Chain, a hidden weapon technique taught to him by the Tang Clan.
Whirr! The Blood Chain created dozens of shadows, but then, their spinning slowed visibly.
What? Black Leopard’s eyes widened as he watched. They’re hitting the branches!
Crack! With a short scream, one of the Valley’s masters, struck in both shoulders by the Blood Chain, collapsed. Despite using the Tang Clan’s ultimate hidden weapon technique and striking first, he couldn’t even take down one properly.
“There!” The assassins, spotting Black Leopard, drew their swords and began to surround him.
Normally, he would have fled using his movement technique. But following Bu Eunseol’s order to hold out, Black Leopard stayed, pulling out throwing knives and hurling them.
Clang! Ting!
The Valley’s masters, reading the knives’ trajectories, easily deflected them.
“Surround him!” Like true assassins, they launched hidden weapons while restricting Black Leopard’s movements.
Clang! Clang!
Black Leopard drew daggers in both hands to deflect the incoming weapons, but it wasn’t enough. Within moments, he was surrounded, unable to move. Without the movement technique Bu Eunseol had taught him, he would already be dead.
“Hm,” Bu Eunseol said, watching the scene. “Now’s the time.” He pointed at Namgung Un, who was standing idly. “Help him.”
Namgung Un frowned, pointing at himself. “Me too?”
“Didn’t you say you wanted real combat experience?”
“Well…”
“It’s a good opportunity. Facing seasoned ambushers in the dark of night.”
“Ugh,” Namgung Un hesitated. Fighting assassins in the mountains didn’t appeal to him. “Brother Seol, I’m a member of the Namgung family, you know.”
“Are you scared?”
“Scared?” Namgung Un’s eyes flashed as he shouted, “Who said I’m scared?” Spitting into his hands, he gripped his Golden Needle Sword. “I just don’t want to stoop to fighting those rats.”
“You’ll see once you fight,” Bu Eunseol said sternly. “The terror of a dark forest.”
“Just watch!” Rushing down the hill where Black Leopard fought, Namgung Un swung his Golden Needle Sword wildly. “Take this!”
Crack! Boom!
Each swing felled surrounding trees, but despite the tremendous force, most of the Valley’s masters surrounding Black Leopard remained unscathed.
“What are these guys?”
The assassins didn’t seem to dodge, yet his Sky-Soaring Sword kept missing. He swung furiously at them, but few enemies fell. Upon closer inspection, they were using the trees and rocks to skillfully evade his sword techniques.
“Damn it!” Namgung Un cursed, frustration boiling over. “You rats! Stop hiding and fight fair!”
The Namgung family’s Sky-Soaring Sword was designed for one-on-one duels against masters, not for battling multiple enemies in a dark forest.
Crack! Thud!
His sword techniques repeatedly struck trees and rocks. Unaccustomed to the darkness, Namgung Un even accidentally aimed at Black Leopard’s position.
“Young Master! It’s me!”
“S-Sorry,” Namgung Un apologized.
Having always fought alone, he had never coordinated with others. In his panic, his movements kept overlapping with Black Leopard’s.
“Damn it.” As he paused his sword, the Valley’s masters seized the opportunity, swinging their blades.
Swish! Swish!
The assassins scattered and regrouped, cornering Namgung Un and Black Leopard. Despite their full efforts, the rugged terrain and darkness made them helpless against the assassins’ tactics.
We’re going to die like this. In his panic, Namgung Un couldn’t even muster a tenth of his true skill. Watching Namgung Un struggle, Black Leopard’s mind raced. What if I stop attacking and focus on disrupting their movements? Having followed Bu Eunseol, Black Leopard had grown to analyze battle situations strategically and devise plans.
“Young Master! I’ll stop their movements!” With that, Black Leopard distanced himself from Namgung Un, circling the assassins.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Seizing an opportunity, he unleashed a barrage of hidden weapons—not to hit the assassins but to restrict their movements.
“Now!” he shouted.
“Got it!” Namgung Un replied, swinging his sword as the assassins, unable to use the terrain, were exposed.
Unlike before, he didn’t use the Sky-Soaring Sword but instead struck at their openings with desperate precision.
“Argh!” This time, the assassins suffered significant wounds from his sharp techniques.
I see. Regaining his composure, Namgung Un stopped swinging wildly, targeting the assassins’ movements with precise killing strikes.
“Gah!” Screams erupted continuously. Encouraged, Black Leopard threw his weapons with even more fervor.
The assassins tried to ambush Black Leopard, but Namgung Un blocked their attacks like an iron wall.
“Not bad teamwork,” Bu Eunseol said, nodding from a distance.
As the two held their ground tenaciously, the Valley’s assassins began to falter. Namgung Un broke free from rigid sword forms, unleashing freeform killing strikes, while Black Leopard targeted weaknesses and the flow of battle with his throws.
“Battling assassins in the mountains will grant you greater insight than fighting martial artists a hundred times over. If you survive, that is.”
Bu Eunseol’s words echoed in their minds simultaneously. They finally understood their meaning. If they survived this battle, their skills would surely advance to the next level.
“These damned goblins…” the assassins growled, grinding their teeth.
Namgung Un and Black Leopard’s relentless resistance, like vengeful spirits, had thwarted their plan to scout the barracks’ size.
“Retreat!” With an exasperated cry, the Valley’s assassins withdrew, vanishing into the opposite darkness.
“Ha… ha…” Namgung Un and Black Leopard panted heavily, exhausted.
“I thought we were done for,” Namgung Un gasped.
“Tell me about it,” Black Leopard agreed.
A chaotic battle against assassins in the deep, dark mountains at night—neither the precision of swordsmanship nor the speed of hidden weapons had been of any help.
Watching from above, Bu Eunseol said calmly, “Now you understand the difference.”
Fighting multiple enemies in a dark forest was a clash of killing intent, distinct from dueling with martial arts.
“Indeed,” Namgung Un said, leaning on his blood-So-aked Golden Needle Sword like a cane as he caught his breath. “But I really don’t get it. Why didn’t my family train us for this?”
“They didn’t need to,” Bu Eunseol replied, staring into the dark forest. “A direct heir of a noble family fighting multiple enemies in the mountains at night? That only happens when the fate of a sect or family is at stake.”
“I suppose so,” Namgung Un said, sheathing his sword and smacking his lips. “So, Brother Seol, you’ve fought battles where a sect’s fate was on the line?”
Bu Eunseol fell silent.
To become one of the Ten Demonic Warriors in the Hell Realm, he had fought countless life-or-death battles against prodigies. Such training was nearly unprecedented in martial history, experienced only by those who survived the Hell Realm.
“Young Master, will the ambush succeed?” Black Leopard asked, his expression worried. “If they sent scouts here, the Blade Tyrant Sect must have a clear grasp of our movements. I doubt the ambush will work.”
Black Leopard understood Bu Eunseol’s character well. If he had believed the mercenaries’ ambush would succeed, his personality wouldn’t have allowed him to stay calmly guarding the barracks.
“To launch an ambush, you need to read the battlefield like the back of your hand. But the Heavenly Tremor Sect planned this too hastily,” Bu Eunseol said, looking north where the mercenaries had gone. “They’ll likely fail miserably.”
Black Leopard nodded silently, then said something curious. “Young Master, you seem to know everything. Even with extensive martial world experience…”
“It’s not martial world experience,” Bu Eunseol replied, turning away.
Back then, Pyeongan was teeming with dying martial artists. He suddenly recalled the past. Pyeongan was a place of constant conflict between orthodox and unorthodox forces. Countless martial artists and spies fought and died there.
As a mercenary, Bu Eunseol, alongside Bu Zhanyang, had always deduced the causes of their deaths. This was akin to daily studying and analyzing the strategies and habits of martial artists.
“Rest for now,” Bu Eunseol said, lying down in the bushes and closing his eyes.
At dawn, the sound of footsteps approached the barracks. Figures emerged, soaked in blood, their eyes vacant.
“…” Black Leopard and Namgung Un, resting against a rock, stared at each other, mouths agape.
Bu Eunseol’s prediction had been chillingly accurate.
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