Chapter 19
Around then, things started getting weird.
Inns that were practically begging for customers began kicking people out, one by one. Some even locked up with guests still inside.
This all went down less than fifteen minutes after they hit the street.
"All the inns shutting down and turning away customers at this hour? Something's definitely off, right?"
"Yeah, no kidding."
Namgung Hee-myung, agreeing with Seol-yeong, picked up the pace, carrying Yeo-il as if she were nothing.
They hauled ass through the now totally deserted market.
"Namgung Hee-myung?"
At the call from not far away, Namgung Hee-myung stopped running.
Their eyes were fixed on a figure gradually approaching from behind.
"Damn... I knew it!"
The woman who approached them, her voice tired, looked utterly terrible at first glance.
She was limping on one leg, and you could see her wince in pain if she tried to move any faster.
Namgung Hee-myung, figuring they must know each other, asked, sounding confused, "Are you behind all these inns closing down?"
"Yeah. I started the rumor. Told everyone a ghost was coming, to lock their doors and keep quiet..."
The woman paused and cautiously asked, "Who's this with you?"
She seemed to be asking about Yeo-il.
"This is my little sister, Namgung So-yo. What the hell kind of ghost are we talking about?"
At his answer, a sigh of despair escaped from the woman's lips.
"Oh, crap... your sister, and she's blind..."
"Watch your mouth."
At Namgung Hee-myung's cold rebuke, the woman readily admitted her mistake.
"Sorry. I'll apologize properly later for mouthing off, but you need to get out of here, now!"
"Leave? I thought you needed help?"
"If you were alone, Hee-myung, I would, but not now! Forget I said anything, just go!"
And just like that, she was gone – vanished into thin air.
"A ghost, huh."
Yeo-il squinted, watching her go, and Chang-a, riding piggyback on Seol-yeong, whispered.
"She looks really sick..."
Was she even worse off than they thought? Namgung Hee-myung's face was grim, watching from the side.
Didn't you say martial artists should protect the weak, bro? I was just trying to live up to that.
The words suddenly popped into his head.
Protecting the weak. The kind of thing you believe when you're young and naive, but also the kind of thing you ignore when you're young and naive.
A past filled with nothing but sin. Her childhood, lived without any beliefs or purpose – it was nothing like Namgung Hee-myung's.
"I'm fine, Hee-myung."
Perhaps that was why. The reason why she was bothering to get involved in an incident that would be of no help to her.
Yeo-il closed her eyes again and opened her mouth.
"What do you mean, you're 'fine' all of a sudden?"
"What do you think? We gotta help her."
"..."
"We should catch up to her before it's too late. Isn't helping the weak, like, the Namgung family motto? I mean, she's got this vibe, this strong aura, but she's clearly hurt."
Namgung Hee-myung sighed briefly.
"So-yo, listen. I came along to keep you safe, since you can barely take care of yourself. How can you say that? We don't know what kind of trouble we'll get into if we just jump in."
"Exactly."
"Because I know exactly what it's like to be weak."
Those words, spoken as Namgung So-yo, not Yeo-il, seemed to calm him down a bit.
"Fine. But don't come crying to me if you regret it."
Namgung Hee-myung took off, with Yeo-il on his back, running like hell. They caught up fast – you could hear the surprise in the woman's voice.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Looks like you're in trouble. We'll stick with you. Where to?"
Even though Namgung Hee-myung was being kind of gruff about it, the woman remained ice-cold.
"Are you crazy? Don't you get it? You'll be busy enough protecting your sister! Just leave me and get out of here..."
"Too late. My sister's a softie. Sorry."
"What...!"
"Hang on tight if you don't want to fall off. Your arms work, right?"
Namgung Hee-myung set Yeo-il down and scooped the woman up, bridal style. Then, he shifted his weight, so it looked like he was carrying her on his back.
"Damn, he's good."
He's carrying two women and he's not even breathing hard, not slowing down.
And he's keeping pace with Seol-yeong, making sure she doesn't get left behind. The guy's a natural-born martial artist.
How long had they been running like that?
Suddenly, the woman spoke in a tired voice.
"...Thanks, kid. I owe you big time."
After a short, dry cough, she also greeted Yeo-il.
"Sorry for the late intro, Miss Namgung. This isn't exactly the best time, but... I'm Yu-rim, from Mount Hua. I lost two of my martial brothers, and I've been traveling through Hubei Province alone."
"You lost your brothers? You mean all the Mount Hua Sect fighters got taken down?"
"Yeah... that's right."
You could see the pain on Yu-rim's face, remembering what happened. Namgung Hee-myung asked, careful but firm, "What the hell happened? And who's this 'ghost'?"
At that moment.
A chill, way too cold for summer, ran down their backs.
"I am the ghost."
A raspy voice, like metal scraping, echoed through the mountains.
Namgung Hee-myung stopped dead in his tracks at the voice, which had a weird, mocking tone.
The second his feet hit the ground, Yu-rim drew her sword, ready for anything.
Seol-yeong finally caught up. The three fighters formed a circle around Chang-a, who was scared stiff, and Yeo-il, who was holding her hand.
"Nothing like a good old-fashioned manhunt."
This creepy laugh, sounding ancient, echoed all around them.
"Put in a little work, and look what I snagged..."
Then, an old man stepped out from behind the trees. White hair braided down his back, probably a bit over six feet tall, with freaky red eyes that made his cheeks look sunken.
And the vibe he gave off was seriously off.
Pure, unadulterated bloodlust.
"That psycho old man is the 'ghost'?"
Namgung Hee-myung asked, pissed off, and Yu-rim just sighed and nodded.
"Blood-Devouring Sword Demon."
Just those words, and Namgung Hee-myung's face went white.
"Blood-Devouring Sword Demon... one of the Eight Ghosts?"
The old man cut him off with a smirk.
"You got it. I'm the one and only Blood-Devouring Sword Demon, one of the Eight Ghosts."
Just hearing the name made you smell blood. Yeo-il clicked her tongue.
"Some of the Eight Ghosts are still kicking?"
Way back when, the Demonic Sect, the Black Path, had these eight badasses called the Eight Ghosts.
They weren't actual ghosts, just called that because they were ruthless, totally without morals, and didn't think twice about killing.
Bottom line: Seol-yeong, Namgung Hee-myung, and Yu-rim were way out of their league.
