CH 18
At the western edge of the Central Plains lay Xinjiang's Heavenly Mountain.
This place, home to the Heavenly Demon Sect and commonly called Tian Shan, held five wondrous sights capable of enchanting any beholder.
The Eternal Snow Peak, where pure white snow bloomed year-round - when fully accumulated, avalanches cascaded for four straight days.
The Great Stone Forest, a maze of narrow, elongated rock formations reaching 3 li (approximately 1,200 meters) in elevation - so dense one could vanish forever with a single misstep.
The Water Paradise, where dozens of waterfalls tumbling through the woods calmed even fiery tempers.
The Heavenly Demon Hall, a centuries-old labyrinth carved into sheer cliffs.
And finally, the fifth wonder:
A vast hot spring lake encircled by mountains, its center holding a solitary island without bridges. Named Heavenly Island for the cloud-like steam rising from its waters.
This was where she resided.
The owner of a cozy manor beside a small dock.
The Heavenly Demon's adopted daughter who recommended Jang I-seo to the Seven Star Palace.
The Third Princess, Sa Haeryeong.
It was she.
In a secluded garden veiled by mist and foliage lay a turquoise hot spring encircled by stone walls.
"Hmm."
Sa Haeryeong dipped her alabaster toes into the water. Perfect temperature. As she gradually submerged herself from knees to slender waist to chest, accumulated fatigue dissolved like rising steam.
It had been ages since she'd enjoyed such peace within the palace walls.
Recent intensification of sibling rivalries left her feeling ten bodies wouldn't suffice.
This return to the Three Star Palace marked her first homecoming in fifty days - need more be said?
"Narak."
Yet even this sweet respite proved too luxurious. Barely immersed, she summoned her aide.
"You called."
Narak materialized behind her like a ghost, bowing deeply.
Drip. Drip.
Water cascaded down her nude form as she stood. A subtle surge of internal energy lifted every droplet from her skin into hovering spheres.
Whoosh!
Her wrist flicked, sending the droplets showering into bushes with precision beyond mere expulsion - true mastery of control.
Swish!
Sa Haeryeong swirled a nearby cloth around herself, bare feet brushing past Narak as she spoke:
"That child. How fares he?"
That child. Only one in blood-soaked Tian Shan earned such casual address.
Her youngest brother, the Seventh Prince Mao.
Narak followed, answering calmly:
"He appears to have emerged from the Slaughterhouse as anticipated."
The Slaughterhouse! So she'd known they'd surface at Yuehua Village.
"That threshold he must cross to stand alone. Remain under the family's shadow, and he'll rot eternally in that well. Jang I-seo must realize this by now."
Few knew Maixin's close ties to the Sa brothers - she numbered among those few.
From Mao's descent into recklessness to the assassination threats surrounding his circle - she knew everything.
Yet she'd sent Jang I-seo as his aide regardless.
Entering her chambers, she casually shed the cloth and changed. Narak waited silently, head bowed.
Trust permeated their silence.
Now robed in red-and-black splendor, hair elegantly tied, Sa Haeryeong settled into a chair:
"Did Sa Do-cheol move personally this time?"
The Slaughterhouse's master and Sa brothers' leader.
Had he acted, Jang I-seo and Mao's defeat would be certain. Narak struggled to comprehend - why nurture them while offering no aid?
"Only executive Makgui appears involved."
A faint smile graced Sa Haeryeong's lips.
"Fortune smiles. But fortune follows skill."
"We shouldn't relax. The Sa brothers are acknowledged by Elder Council and Five Dragon Hall. No spy - however skilled - can easily stop a 7th-grade demon. Especially given Jang I-seo's tainted energy..."
Narak recalled their meeting - Jang I-seo's chaotic, irregular qi proved him incapable of reaching pinnacle mastery.
Maggui had shattered that barrier long ago.
"Conventional methods can't defeat pinnacle experts. True. But I need no nest-bound fledgling - give me a hawk that fights even in freefall."
"Even to death?"
"That remains unseen."
Narak tilted his head in confusion. Sa Haeryeong smirked.
She might have agreed - before witnessing.
'I'll take left three.'
'Fine. I'll handle right four.'
At Chuseon Pavilion's ambush, Jang I-seo had faced more opponents yet finished first - shielding her up Yongpi Mountain.
While not definitive proof, his movements defied her comprehension.
In battle, superior energy grants advantage but not victory. Decisive factor? Whose blade pierces the heart first.
"If you faced him, Narak - how long?"
"Meaning Makgui?"
Narak's eyes, which rarely showed any change in expression, were filled with doubt. It was something he had never thought about before.
Why? Because the opponent was that pathetic.
Considering that he was the youngest leader of the Gwangryong faction, known to be the most radical among the Oryong faction, the question could indeed be considered rude.
But after a moment of thought, Narak answered honestly.
"If Makgui strikes first, it’ll take ten moves. Otherwise, just two."
"As expected... I see."
Sahaeryung’s smile deepened at Narak’s confident words, a reflection of her pride in her advisor.
She turned her head slightly and said,
"Even if it takes Jang Yi-seo a thousand exchanges, as long as he can defeat Makgui, then I can look forward to it, right?"
The Seventh Prince, Mao.
The moment that child becomes a steadfast ally and rises to the occasion.
"Jang Yi-seo. I hope you don’t let me down."
Sahaeryung’s sincere cheer echoed through the Sanso Palace.
– Wolha Village, Chilsogung.
"Clear it."
Two words spat out from Mao’s mouth.
"Kyaaaaaaah-!"
At the same time, a scream resembling a bird’s cry erupted from Makgui’s mouth. Boom! Sound waves violently spread in all directions.
An invisible weapon that, upon reaching the ears, ravaged the inner ear, inflicting fatal injuries!
Indeed.
The signature technique of Makgui, the assassin with a braided queue, was not martial arts but a sound-based internal energy attack that shook the mind—a pinnacle master’s sonic assault.
His bulging muscles and flashy attire were nothing but a ruse to lull opponents into complacency.
This was why Narak had said the fight would last over ten exchanges if Makgui struck first.
Moreover, upon closer inspection, his subordinates had already plugged their ears. A truly cunning ambush.
"Kuh."
As expected, Mao—closest to the attack—felt his ears ring and the world spin.
He crumpled to his knees.
Only his ocean-deep internal energy allowed him to endure. Anyone else would have already collapsed, ears bleeding.
No...!
But staying conscious changed nothing.
In a daze, he pitifully watched Jang Yi-seo, soon to be the assassins’ prey. But then—
"Order. Received."
With indifferent eyes, as if unfazed, Jang raised his right hand.
And then.
『White Thunder』
Crack! A bolt of white lightning tore through the sound waves and streaked across the battlefield.
"Kyaaaaah...!"
Thud!
The dagger pierced Makgui’s gaping mouth mid-scream and burst through the back of his skull.
One move.
Thump!
Makgui, ranked sixth in the Dosalbang, fell backward without even closing his eyes. Dead instantly.
"Wh-what?!"
The assassins panicked as if facing a monster.
But it was too late. Everything unfolded in a heartbeat.
Ping!
Jang Yi-seo caught an arrow from the roof with his left hand, spun, and hurled it back along its trajectory.
Thud!
The rooftop assassin’s forehead split.
Clutching the pure-white dagger after dispatching Makgui, he mercilessly stabbed five assassins charging from both sides—feet, sides, chest, neck—without hesitation, swift as lightning.
Thud.
Assassins collapsed like dominos around Jang Yi-seo, who stood unmoved.
Most astonishingly, none could even scream. Even Mao, watching, forgot to breathe.
Why? Too fast. Too sudden. Like a thunderclap.
"You... you..."
Just like that, it ended.
Mao, still kneeling and stammering, barely managed to mutter.
Step. Step.
He watched Jang approach.
This man—a mere 7th-grade ghost, a social climber—had boasted he’d cling to Mao and reach the top.
"What... are you?"
Mao’s eyes trembled uncontrollably.
As he stared up at Jang, now inches away, a blinding halo engulfed the man’s silhouette.
Jang smirked faintly.
"Advisor Jang."
What?
"I promise."
What?
"The Little Sect Leader. I’ll make it happen for you."
Ah...
Jang extended his hand. Mao stared, entranced.
An ordinary hand—neither large nor small. Yet for reasons he couldn’t fathom, he yearned to grip it tightly.
"Let’s climb together."
Jang smiled brightly.
"Jang Yi-seo..."
For the first time, Mao properly spoke his name.
Click.
Their hands clasped.
An indescribable new bond flashed in their eyes.
"Prepare yourself if you don’t want to fall."
"You’re the one who needs to prepare. Even the Sect Leader gave up on me."
"Just showing off, aren’t you?"
They shared a quiet chuckle.
Jang Yi-seo—Amgak’s top agent and Murim Alliance spy.
Mao—the Demon Sect’s Seventh Prince, its greatest delinquent.
Two who should never have met, now sharing the same path.
Destination: Little Sect Leader.
Deadline: Until achievement.
The advisor’s journey begins.
#Still Just the Two of Us (1)
