At the same time, the merchant ship, riding the tailwind, began to slow down.
The chained ships were equipped with fire arrows and stone cannons capable of sinking distant vessels. They forced ships to stop in the middle of the river to collect tolls, preventing any approach to the checkpoint. If anything seemed amiss, the fire arrows and stone cannons at the checkpoint would sink the ship instantly.
Whoosh. Thud.
A dozen men boarded the ship from the patrol boats on either side.
“Hm.” Among them, a burly man with a dark complexion stepped onto the deck.
It was Muk Jeok, the Murderous Axe Demon, the leader of the water bandits responsible for this checkpoint.
“North Wind Sect, huh,” Muk Jeok said, addressing a middle-aged man on the deck.
The man, Bang Juk, was the North Wind Sect’s strategist and the ship’s commander. Muk Jeok spoke familiarly, “What brings you here all of a sudden?”
The Black Alliance, originally a ragtag band of bandits, now possessed forces surpassing most martial sects. As a key figure in the Black Alliance’s leadership, Muk Jeok spoke informally to Bang Juk and everyone passing through, without restraint.
“Suddenly? It’s the usual business,” Bang Juk said with a grin, signaling a crew member to bring a chest to Muk Jeok.
Muk Jeok nudged the chest with his foot, and the silver inside gleamed in the moonlight.
“Judging by the amount, it’s salt,” he said.
The Black Alliance collected tolls uniquely, based on the value and profit of the goods being transported, rather than a fixed amount.
“That’s right,” Bang Juk replied.
“Hm.” Muk Jeok frowned, rubbing his forehead. “The Alliance is currently engaged with Majeon’s forces.”
“I know. That’s why we came with just one ship to quickly handle urgent cargo.” Muk Jeok let out a low groan.
Normally, the Qinghai Seven Sword Sects’ ships moved in groups under cover of night to transport salt. Sending just one ship showed considerable deference to the Black Alliance’s wartime situation.
“That’s tricky,” Muk Jeok said, rubbing his forehead again. “The Alliance Leader ordered that not a single ship pass through Sword-Rune Plain.”
“If I turn back now, I’ll be in trouble,” Bang Juk said, signaling the crew member again.
Another chest filled with silver was placed before Muk Jeok.
“Is this enough sincerity?”
“Hmm.” Muk Jeok groaned.
The North Wind Sect had sent a single ship out of consideration and even offered extra payment. Sending them back now would mean making an enemy of the North Wind Sect, deeply rooted in Qinghai for generations.
“Fine,” Muk Jeok said after a moment’s thought, nodding. “But given the situation, we’ll inspect the ship thoroughly.”
A seasoned water bandit from the Janggang Waterway Bandits, Muk Jeok knew ship structures and operations better than anyone. No matter what tricks the North Wind Sect might pull, they couldn’t escape his scrutiny.
“If anything seems off…” Muk Jeok’s eyes gleamed with menace.
A single gesture from him could sink a merchant ship like this in an instant.
“Alright,” Bang Juk said, nodding under Muk Jeok’s menacing gaze. “Go ahead and inspect.”
Muk Jeok began examining the ship with hawk-like eyes.
He was looking for any sign of a large Demonic Sect force. But nothing suspicious stood out. In fact, it couldn’t. The ship’s structure was transparent, and hiding a large force on such a small vessel was impossible.
“Hm.” Yet Muk Jeok didn’t stop his inspection.
An inexplicable sense of unease nagged at him—a water bandit’s instinct honed from years on the river.
“Wait.” His gaze suddenly fixed on a young man in the cabin.
Tall, lean, and pale, he didn’t look like a sailor.
‘You can disguise your face, but not your height or aura.’ Years of banditry had given Muk Jeok an eye as sharp as a fortune-teller’s.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
The young man trembled, clearly frightened. “I’m a physician heading to the Red-Yellow Medical House in Sword-Rune Plain.”
“A physician?” Muk Jeok’s eyes flashed.
‘Martial artists often disguise themselves as physicians.’ Martial artists were well-versed in human anatomy and often learned some medical skills for injuries.
They frequently posed as physicians to conceal their identities.
‘I have ways to weed them out.’
“Oh, a young physician! We’ll be seeing you often,” Muk Jeok said with a smile, extending his massive hand.
As the physician looked puzzled, Muk Jeok grabbed his wrist, targeting his pulse.
‘No matter how well you disguise yourself, you can’t hide your internal energy.’ Even the best disguise couldn’t conceal the presence of internal energy. Knowing this, Muk Jeok injected powerful internal energy into the young man’s pulse.
“Argh!” The young physician leapt in pain.
With no internal energy to resist, the forceful injection felt like needles piercing his meridians.
‘Not him.’ Muk Jeok immediately withdrew his energy.
Even those who reached great realms couldn’t completely hide traces of internal energy. This young man was genuinely a physician with no martial skills.
“Are you done?” Bang Juk asked.
Muk Jeok didn’t respond.
No matter how closely he looked, there was nothing to fault, yet the unease lingered.
“Hmm.” Scrutinizing further, his eyes flashed.
‘That could be it.’
Pointing at one of the crew members, he said, “You, come here.” A burly, rough-looking man grumbled as he approached.
“What is it?”
“Your palm.” When Muk Jeok spoke curtly, the man, puzzled, extended his hand.
Thick calluses, formed from years of sailor work, were clearly visible.
‘Was I too paranoid?’
“What’s this about?” the crew member asked indifferently.
Muk Jeok grinned.
His rough demeanor and boldness in front of Muk Jeok marked him as a seasoned sailor.
“Nothing. Go back.” Turning to Bang Juk, Muk Jeok nodded. “Nothing unusual. You may pass.”
Muk Jeok returned to his patrol boat.
Soon, a mechanical clank echoed through the night sky. The chained ships parted, creating space for one ship to pass.
“Phew.”
As the ship passed through the opened checkpoint, the man on the deck—the same crew member Muk Jeok had inspected—sighed and tossed aside the towel on his head.
It was Won Semun.
“Guess a lifetime of banditry sharpens your instincts,” he said.
The other crew members, crouching nearby, began tossing aside their towels.
They were all Death Shadow Corps members.
“That sharp bandit knew they’d inspect us like this, but he couldn’t fool the Captain’s eyes,” one said.
Bang Juk coughed, his face flushing.
Initially, Bang Juk had been confident the North Wind Sect’s flag would grant easy passage.
But Bu Eunseol predicted Muk Jeok, a former water bandit, wouldn’t let them through easily. Since hiding fifty men from Muk Jeok’s keen eyes was impossible, they disguised themselves as sailors. They placed a young physician in the cabin to confuse Muk Jeok’s instincts and meticulously applied calluses to the disguised members’ hands to mimic real sailors.
“Good thing this is a merchant ship smuggling salt,” one member said. “Yeah, the number of crew members didn’t seem suspicious.”
At that moment, cooks emerged from the galley, chatting.
As they wiped their faces, they transformed into spirited young men—the heirs of the Qinghai Seven Sword Sects, including Guyang Cheongjeong. Despite Bu Eunseol refusing additional troops, they had volunteered to board the ship.
“Where’s the Captain?” Han Seowung asked.
Won Semun let out an “Ah.”
“Someone go get the Captain and the new captains from the hold.” At his shout, a member rushed to the ship’s hold.
Though Bu Eunseol had reached the realm of Return to Simplicity, Myo Cheonwoo and Yoo Unryong carried the distinct aura of peak-level masters. Even with perfect disguises, they couldn’t escape Muk Jeok’s sharp eyes, so they hid in a hollowed-out section under the cabin floor, using the Breath-Holding Technique.
“No need,” Bu Eunseol said, as if he’d anticipated their approach.
He, Myo Cheonwoo, and Yoo Unryong were already on the deck. The Seven Sword Sects’ heirs approached Bu Eunseol.
“You’ve worked hard.”
“You all did too.”
“What did we do?” they said modestly.
Bu Eunseol smiled, looking at the ship’s stern. “If you hadn’t worked together, we couldn’t have evaded the Blood Flame Blade Sect’s surveillance and moved discreetly.”
He had long sensed the spies sent by Do Cheonlin.
For this plan to succeed, the fifty Shadow Corps members had to move undetected.
When the Seven Sword Sects’ heirs asked, “Is there nothing we can do to help?” during their meeting, Bu Eunseol had replied, “Of course, there’s something more important.”
That was to move the Death Shadow Corps without being noticed by Do Cheonlin’s spies.
It was nearly impossible, but with the Qinghai Seven Sword Sects’ cooperation, the situation changed. They created decoy forces disguised as the Shadow Corps, moving them to different locations.
The spies fell into confusion, allowing the Shadow Corps to board the North Wind Sect’s ship undetected. Even the cunning Do Cheonlin couldn’t have imagined Bu Eunseol receiving the full support of the Qinghai Seven Sword Sects.
He was likely unaware of this situation entirely.
“Once we reach Sword-Rune Plain, return immediately on the ship,” Bu Eunseol said.
The heirs waved their hands. “What are you saying? We came this far; of course, we’ll fight alongside you!”
“Exactly. We’ve been training our martial arts for moments like this!” As they chattered excitedly, Guyang Cheongjeong stayed back, watching from a distance.
She knew Bu Eunseol had no interest in her. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t reach that distant figure.
‘Cheong-mei.’ Weiji Un, observing her, gave a bitter smile inwardly.
All the Qinghai Seven Sword Sects’ heirs liked Guyang Cheongjeong. Their ability to unite was largely because she was their central figure.
‘It’s for the best.’ Though her pain was unfortunate, Bu Eunseol’s clear boundary was a relief to them.
“It’s almost dawn. We’ll reach Sword-Rune Plain soon,” Bu Eunseol said coldly, tossing aside the cloth he’d been wearing. “Prepare yourselves.”
“We obey!” The Shadow Corps members bowed solemnly.
A fierce battle of blood and flesh was imminent.
***
As the rising sun dispelled the darkness, the Black Alliance’s elite guarding the coast blinked in disbelief.
At dawn, a single merchant ship docked at the coast, where three hundred soldiers stood vigilantly. Fifty armed martial artists disembarked and strode toward the outpost.
“Madmen.” The Black Alliance bandits sneered.
“No need to ask who they are. Kill them,” the outpost leader commanded.
His subordinates fired long arrows from powerful crossbows. The arrows, launched skyward, rained down like black droplets toward the martial artists.
“What?” The Black Alliance bandits were stunned.
The fifty martial artists were so skilled that the fierce arrows caused no significant damage.
“Fire the stone cannons too!” the flustered leader ordered. Stone cannons shot from spring-loaded devices behind the outpost, filling the sky.
But it was too late.
The stone cannons were designed to attack ships, not individuals. The fifty martial artists, using lightning-fast movement techniques, had already approached the outpost, rendering the cannons useless.
Clang! Clash!
“Argh! Aaaagh!” Screams and the clash of weapons echoed across the distant sky.
The fifty martial artists’ relentless assault felled the Black Alliance bandits like straw. Though only fifty in number, their martial prowess and tactics were unprecedented. Despite using varied techniques and weapons, their attack and defense were flawless. Watching from afar, it was as if five massive weapons alternated between offense and defense.
“Ugh.” The outpost leader bit his lip.
Over two hundred bodies piled around the defense zone, and the battle had lasted less than a quarter of an hour.
“Report that enemies have invaded!” he shouted.
The response was despairing: “The main stronghold is under attack by the Blood Martial Corps.”
“What?” The leader’s face hardened. “So they sent a separate unit to strike in sync with the main stronghold’s assault?”
He gritted his teeth.
Their prowess was so overwhelming that they could break through and reach the stronghold in no time.
The only option left was to fight to the death, holding them back as long as possible.
