A Tale Of A Scribe Who Retires To The Countryside [EN]: Chapter 79

79. The Dragon Plays in the Clouds

Sasu-yeon’s condition was critical. Thanks to Son-bin’s embrace, she appeared to have no external injuries, but her internal energy was utterly disrupted by the powerful impact.

“Lady Sa!”

Son-bin called out, but she remained unresponsive. After vomiting blood, she lay unconscious in Son-bin’s arms, her face pale.

“Lady Sa…….”

“Don’t move her.”

Just as Son-bin was about to touch Sasu-yeon’s face, Shin-ui’s voice stopped him. Shin-ui, who had been examining Namgung-hoon, knelt beside them, taking Sasu-yeon’s wrist.

“Hmm.”

After checking her pulse, Shin-ui lightly tapped a few of Sasu-yeon’s pressure points. Sasu-yeon groaned softly but didn’t regain consciousness.

Shin-ui instructed Son-bin to gently lay Sasu-yeon on the ground.

The sight of her pale face and closed eyes was etched painfully into Son-bin’s memory.

“How is Lady Sa…?”

Son-bin asked, his gaze fixed on Sasu-yeon. Shin-ui, with a stern expression, replied,

“The cold has penetrated deep into her bones. She was already in a precarious state, and the impact has completely disrupted her internal energy. If this continues…”

Shin-ui bit his lip.

“There’s no hope.”

Son-bin gritted his teeth. After a moment, he asked,

“Is there really no way?”

Shin-ui frowned, considering the possibilities. But his conclusion was firm. He shook his head.

“No. All we can do is hope she regains stability. But…”

Shin-ui looked up. Countless gazes were directed at him, or rather, at Sasu-yeon and him. Among them were men wearing the red dragon uniforms [members of the Blood Dragon Clan, a powerful and ruthless group].

“It’s doubtful that will even be possible.”

He likely wouldn’t allow Sasu-yeon to rest. Han-wol wore a bitter smile.

Woo-oong.

Han-wol’s sword, cloaked in a chilling red aura, hummed softly. He took a step towards Sasu-yeon.

“Stop!”

A young man in ornate clothing blocked his path. The handsome young man fearlessly raised his sword towards Han-wol.

“I am Jegal-hwi of the Jegal Clan. I will not allow anyone to harm Lady Sa.”

Ching!

Another young man stepped forward, drawing his sword and facing Han-wol.

“I am Hyeonryeon-hu of the Hyeonryeon Clan. I, too, will protect the Sword Saintess.”

“Gongson-gak of the Gongson Clan. I will join you.”

“I’m Moryong-rin of the Moryong Clan.”

Ching.

A lovely young lady in a light pink dress drew her sword.

“If anyone harms the Sword Saintess, I won’t stand by and watch.”

Chaechaechaeng.

Swords and blades gleamed in the hands of other young men and women. All the younger generation present drew their weapons.

“How dare these people defy the Great One!”

The younger generation of the Demonic Faction [a group often at odds with the Righteous Faction] couldn’t stand idly by. They, too, drew their weapons and stepped forward.

Chaechaechaeng.

The sharp energy emanating from the swords and blades filled the banquet hall. The tension was palpable, and the situation was on the verge of exploding. It seemed inevitable that blood would be spilled in Deungwang Pavilion.

“Hmph.”

Han-wol laughed. Standing amidst the drawn swords and blades, he appeared relaxed, almost as if he were enjoying the spectacle.

“Sin-wol.”

“Yes.”

Sin-wol, who had been glaring at the younger generation of the Righteous Faction [a coalition of martial arts clans and sects dedicated to upholding justice and order] with a bitter smile, responded.

“Escort our brothers outside, along with these brave young friends who have drawn their swords for me. I will finish things here and then join you.”

Only Sin-wol truly understood his intentions. But everyone could sense his purpose.

“But, Great One! We too…”

One of the younger members of the Demonic Faction began, but he was cut off.

“Do you want to waste time and be captured by the Namgung Clan, suffering humiliation?”

Han-wol’s tone was firm.

“You have much to do. Remember, you defeated the Namgung Clan. No matter who slanders you, that is the truth. A clear fact you have confirmed with your own eyes.”

At Han-wol’s forceful words, the younger generation of the Demonic Faction nodded almost unconsciously.

Sasu-yeon claimed it was a hidden weapon, but no one saw it, and there’s no evidence. It’s possible it’s a fabrication used by the hypocritical Righteous Faction.

“Still, we can’t leave the Great One alone…”

Han-wol smiled, holding back a laugh. He said softly,

“This is enough for me. Sin-wol, go.”

“Yes.”

Sin-wol obeyed his command.

As Han-wol’s will was unwavering, the younger generation of the Demonic Faction began to leave the banquet hall, following Sin-wol. Only Han-wol remained, a lone Blood Dragon Clan warrior.

“Now that I’m alone, the situation is much more advantageous for you.”

Han-wol sneered at the younger generation of the Righteous Faction.

“Come at me.”

“Taa!”

Jegal-hwi charged at Han-wol with a shout. True to the Jegal Clan’s reputation, his sharp and dazzling swordsmanship flew towards Han-wol.

Boo-oong.

Behind him, Hyeonryeon-hu of the Hyeonryeon Clan unleashed a powerful blade strike. Although they had never trained together, their attacks perfectly complemented Jegal-hwi’s.

As disciples of prestigious clans, their combat senses, honed over years of training, were truly exceptional.

“Good.”

Han-wol smiled slightly as his sword began to emit an even stronger red aura.

“Very good.”

Kwaang!

His sword drew a red arc through the air, followed by the groans of the two men.

“Keuk.”

“Ugh.”

“But it’s only good, nothing more.”

“Taa!”

Gongson-gak of the Gongson Clan thrust his sword forward without hesitation. His sword, imbued with the unique and formidable inner strength of the Gongson Clan, ruthlessly aimed for Han-wol’s weak points.

However, Han-wol simply neutralized Gongson-gak’s attack with a single swing of his sword.

Kwang.

“Ack!”

Following Gongson-gak, who fell while spitting blood, was Moryong-rin’s sword.

Kaang!

“Hoo, the young lady’s sword is quite heavy.”
Han-wol said, facing Moryong-rin’s sword.

“But it’s still not enough.”

Kwaang!

Moryong-rin was thrown back along with her sword, her face pale from the single clash.

However, Han-wol stood there, undisturbed, as calm and dignified as an insurmountable mountain.

“Is this all? Is there no one who can surprise me?”

As the disciples of the prestigious clans were easily defeated, no one stepped forward. They realized Han-wol was right when he said he was enough on his own.

Even if all the younger generation present attacked him, they couldn’t defeat him. The hope of evacuating others in a chaotic melee had vanished.

“No one?”

Han-wol smirked.

“They call it the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, but there are no dragons or phoenixes, only loaches and sparrows [a derogatory comparison, implying they are weak and insignificant].”

It was a harsh insult, but no one could refute him.

The red energy swirling from his sword and the scattered figures of the prestigious clan disciples clearly showed the difference between them.

Han-wol slowly looked around the banquet hall. The murderous intent in his eyes terrified ordinary people, and even the younger generation holding swords gritted their teeth.

Everyone sensed death.

“Now, shouldn’t you come out?”

Han-wol suddenly said, looking towards Sasu-yeon. People were puzzled, as the Sword Saintess Sasu-yeon was still unconscious.

Seuk.

The person who stood up was a young man dressed as a scholar—the Sword Saintess’s lover.

People thought he was mistaken. But Han-wol smiled.

“Yes, I’m talking about you.”

Han-wol was clearly looking at the young scholar. Despite Han-wol’s murderous aura and killing intent, the young scholar stared straight into Han-wol’s eyes.

‘Hmm?’

Han-wol frowned slightly. The burning rage he expected was absent from the young scholar’s eyes.

There was no anger, confusion, fear, or even sharp tension.

The scholar’s eyes held a firm resolve.

“Hmph. At least your eyes are the best.”
Han-wol said with a sneer, unaware that his sneer was slowly disappearing.

“I wonder if your skills match your eyes. Shall we see?”

Was it a warrior’s instinct? Though he spoke mockingly, Han-wol’s eyes blazed fiercely.

Son-bin turned and looked down at Sasu-yeon. Her pale, unconscious face was etched in his heart.

“Please wait for a moment.”

Son-bin said to her. There was no reply, but it didn’t matter.

“This time, I will protect you.”

Jeobeok, jeobeok.

Son-bin walked out among the younger generation, who stepped aside with a mixture of belief and doubt.

The Baekro sword hanging at Son-bin’s waist hummed softly.

*

*

*

Seuk.

The old man appeared like a ghost.

There wasn’t even a hint of his presence, and the Blood Dragon Clan warrior almost thought he was hallucinating.

But it was no mistake. This place should be empty except for them.

Ching.

The Blood Dragon Clan warrior who spotted the old man drew his sword without hesitation. The other Blood Dragon Clan warriors who noticed the old man also drew their swords.

Dozens of warriors, their faces covered below their eyes, drew their swords simultaneously from the darkness, instantly filling the air with tension.

Murderous gazes and sharp blades gleamed coldly.

“Heul.”

The old man laughed softly. Standing with his hands behind his back, he appeared to be leisurely admiring the night scenery.

“You cover your faces, yet you openly wear your clan’s uniforms. What contradiction is this? Is ignorance in vogue these days?”

The Blood Dragon Clan warrior’s eyebrows twitched.

“Who are you?”

The low, sharp voice, filled with force, was enough to intimidate listeners—if the opponent wasn’t Nam-ak Nogun.

“Tsk. Young man, you’ve learned the bad habit of putting strength into your voice first. Besides, you have no basic manners for addressing an elder. That’s why you should have had a good teacher when you were young. A very good teacher who doesn’t hesitate to discipline even annoying kids. Heulheulheulheul.”

The old man laughed as if he had said something funny, but none of the Blood Dragon Clan warriors joined him.

The warrior who had demanded the old man’s identity frowned, glancing at his subordinate.

“Is he a person of interest?”

The subordinate stared intently at Nam-ak Nogun before slowly shaking his head.

“No. He is not among the high-ranking figures of the Namgung Clan, nor is he among the participants from the Five Great Clans and Four Righteous Sects.”

“Not among them?”

The Blood Dragon Clan warrior’s eyes narrowed.

‘This isn’t good.’

Even at a glance, the old man was no ordinary person.

How could someone joke around while facing dozens of warriors with drawn swords, exuding killing intent?

The fact that such a person wasn’t on the list of people of interest meant only one thing.

‘He’s a threat.’

He sensed the need to retreat, but he couldn’t.

Seuk.

The Blood Dragon Clan warrior held out a hand, stopping his subordinates from acting rashly.

As the subordinates looked at him with surprise, the Blood Dragon Clan warrior slowly spoke to Nogun.

“If you want to pass, we will open the way. If you do not antagonize us, we have no intention of antagonizing you either.”

“Hoo.”

A strange light flashed in Nogun’s eyes.

“You’re quick to assess the situation. Well, you need that much sense to survive on the edge of a blade. But…”

Hooo-oong.

Even though there was no wind, Nogun’s sleeves began to flutter. Nogun’s eyes turned cold.

“If you have the will of a martial artist, you should speak with your sword. That’s why I hate cunning bastards.”

Woo-oong.

A tremendous force poured out from Nogun—a force they couldn’t possibly handle. The Blood Dragon Clan warriors’ faces hardened.

‘Keuk.’

The situation was irreversible. They had only one choice.

Eudeuk.

The Blood Dragon Clan warrior gritted his teeth, commanding as if squeezing his lungs.

“Attack!”

“Taaaa!”

With fierce shouts, the Blood Dragon Clan warriors charged at Nogun all at once. A reckless attack that disregarded defense, not caring for their own bodies.

The attack, which seemed capable of destroying everything in front of them, was a desperate gesture, like a human struggling for the last time in the face of terror.

“Yes. That’s probably the best you can do—throwing your lives away like moths to a flame.”

Nogun said quietly, as if reciting.

“That’s why I hate guys like you.”

Nogun’s hand moved slightly.

Beonjjeok.

A streak of intense light cut through the darkness.

*

*

*

Sabak.

At the small sound of fabric brushing, the Blood Dragon Clan warrior turned his head. A girl with her face covered by a veil was walking slowly.

Her small and frail appearance made it seem as if an unfortunate girl had lost her way and entered a place of death.

Ching.

The Blood Dragon Clan warrior drew his sword. Other warriors had noticed the girl, but they didn’t bother to draw their swords.

They thought it would be over quickly. Even if the girl noticed them and ran, they could throw a flying dagger at her.

Sabak, sabak.

However, the girl walked straight towards them, without looking around or hesitating.

She quietly moved towards dozens of Blood Dragon Clan warriors exuding a fierce aura, as if taking a walk.

“I’m sorry, but…”

A slightly rough voice came from the girl.

“I’m not yet skilled in using Poisonous Energy Art.”

The Blood Dragon Clan warriors didn’t understand what she was saying.

But one thing was clear: a terribly eerie energy emanated from the approaching girl.

An energy that even the trained warriors of the Blood Dragon Clan frowned and groaned at.

Chichiching.

The Blood Dragon Clan warriors drew their swords and blades all at once. The sharp energy they emitted seemed capable of tearing the girl’s skin.

However, the girl didn’t stop.

“No, it’s not just Poisonous Energy Art. It’s only been a short time since I actually started learning martial arts.”

In her head, unleashing martial arts felt clear and accessible. All kinds of secret manuals and martial arts books had been her only friends until now.

But unleashing that martial art with her own body was a refreshing and surprisingly unfamiliar experience. She had cried in surprise at how her body could move in this way.

But she still felt lacking. Seeing Son-bin’s sword dance, a sword path beyond beauty and awe, made anyone realize their shortcomings.

“So…”

Sabak.

The girl stopped and raised her hand towards the Blood Dragon Clan warriors.

Her small, white fingers, revealed from within her sleeve, began to be dyed a deep blue-green jade color.

Woo-oong.

“If you don’t dodge, you might die.”

The girl, Dang Morya’s, eyes glowed green beneath her veil.