His grandfather had been obsessed with ‘survival.’

More precisely — not his own survival. His grandson’s.

He had never understood why.

From his earliest memories, he had been made to hold a sword. To follow his grandfather’s strict training without question.

He hadn’t particularly resented it. Holding a sword was genuinely enjoyable, and growing stronger brought him a deep sense of joy. He had even made a quiet vow — to one day live the life of a wandering hero, the kind his grandfather would describe on the nights he drank too deeply.

And the day he first told his grandfather that vow——

He saw him truly angry for the first time.

That was probably when it started.

The day the sword stopped being fun.

He trained relentlessly — but this strength had nowhere to go. He wasn’t even permitted to step in when older boys in the village picked on the weaker children.

[If that’s all it amounts to, why are you learning martial arts at all? What use is strength that can’t protect anyone!!]

The day his grandfather’s contradictions reached their peak——

So did the frustration that had been piling up inside him.

Just as he had been shaken by his grandfather’s anger the first time, the old man seemed genuinely thrown by the sight of his grandson talking back. That stunned expression had never left Seo Woojin’s memory.

That night, deep in his cups, his grandfather had said——

He was sorry.

He was so very sorry.

Seo Woojin had asked what there was to be sorry for. But his grandfather had only wept in silence for a long time.

Then, just before he fell asleep——

[Woojin. There is only one reason you learn martial arts. To protect yourself. Even if you cannot protect anyone else — you learn so that at least you yourself may be protected. But even that strength must always be a last resort. Against a stronger enemy, running must always come first.]

And that night, for the first time, he told him about the hidden passage in this house.

He had been building it with his own hands, every single day since they had settled here. That was what he said.

That was how deeply he had been consumed by it.

By ‘survival.’

Seo Woojin took the torch waiting at the entrance and descended.

And kept descending.

The bottom refused to appear.

He couldn’t begin to fathom how much time and effort it had taken to hollow out a passage this long.

Then, after some time——

The stairs ended. A small open space unfolded before him.

Objects were arranged throughout it. Emergency medicines including wound-sealing powder sat alongside neatly folded changes of clothing. Various tools for disguise were laid out across a surface, and forged identity tablets rested nearby.

“What on earth……”

He had never been down here before.

The shock was only natural.

What had his grandfather been running from? What had frightened him so deeply?

Seo Woojin hung the torch on the wall and crossed to one side of the room.

Two swords rested on an old desk.

One was a worn blade, heavy with the marks of time.

[Do you know what this sword is? Kuhahaha. It was forged by none other than the Sichuan Tang Clan themselves! Made to honor the chivalry of the Sword Saint! Hm? Who is the Sword Saint, you ask? There is such a person. A stubborn, pigheaded fool.]

He couldn’t recall exactly when his grandfather had said that — drunk and boasting. He had wondered where the sword had disappeared to. Apparently it had been down here all along.

Shhring.

Seo Woojin drew it partway.

The worn exterior concealed something else entirely. The blade carried a chill so sharp that its edge alone seemed capable of drawing blood. Etched into the flat of the steel was a faint blue dragon motif — a perfect match for the weapon’s character.

Shhring. Click.

He slid it back and turned his gaze to the other sword.

[The day your martial arts are complete — I will give this to you as a gift. Until then, devote yourself to your training.]

He remembered this one.

Shhring.

He drew it partway.

A dragon motif was etched into this blade as well — but the color was closer to black. What was peculiar was that the edge was less sharp than he expected. Almost blunt, by comparison.

Click!

He would take both. They were perhaps the only keepsakes his grandfather had left behind.

He was reaching to gather his things when his hand stopped.

Something else rested on the desk.

A sealed envelope containing a letter.

Seo Woojin tore it open and drew out the pages. Several of them — the letter was quite long.

[If you are reading this, something has gone wrong for you. It means ‘he’ has finally found you. I despise myself — for hoping you would never need to read these words, while also hoping that what I have prepared here will keep you alive.]

As expected — his grandfather’s writing.

He had anticipated that Seo Woojin might come down here.

Then the fear that had haunted his grandfather — it had been real. Something with a name. With a face.

[‘He’ has found you — which means you deserve to know the truth. No…… I should have told you long ago. I simply didn’t have the courage to face you after you knew. And so…… and so I forced a purpose upon you without ever giving you a reason. Forgive me.]

His hands began to tremble.

The curiosity he had always pushed to the back of his mind——

In this moment——

Came surging back.

And Seo Woojin——

[This is about your parents.]

Could not bring himself to look away.

[I killed your parents.]

And immediately wished he had.

Glug. Glug.

Song Biryeong filled her cup and let out a quiet sigh.

“Hmm. Do you really think this is alright?”

No one answered.

Muk-yeong was eating in silence. Bae Seokjin sat with his eyes closed, not so much as twitching.

Song Biryeong furrowed her brow and drained her cup in one sharp motion.

Thud!

“Hey. Chief? I said — is this alright!”

At Song Biryeong’s pointed voice, Bae Seokjin finally cracked one eye open.

“What is.”

She always had to raise her voice before he’d listen. Song Biryeong gave a small scoff and pressed on.

“The Young Lord. Are we really just leaving him be? It’s pretty obvious he’s about to run.”

“Geonwoo is with him.”

“That’s exactly why I’m worried. He gave us the signal, so we played along — but can that soft-hearted idiot actually handle this properly?”

“……”

Bae Seokjin’s silence made Song Biryeong sigh again.

“Ah. So you sent Geonwoo on purpose.”

“It was the Military Advisor’s order.”

Song Biryeong tilted her head.

“What? Rin gave that order?”

“If he tries to run…… let him go, she said.”

“Why?”

“That he’s worth exactly that much right now.”

“Hmm. I don’t follow.”

Bae Seokjin let out a quiet sigh.

“A lure. She intends to use him as one.”

Song Biryeong’s brow creased.

“Did she pick up a trail?”

Bae Seokjin smiled faintly and shook his head.

“She didn’t — which is exactly why she’s resorting to him. But if there’s any reaction at all, she said there’s one thing she can confirm for certain.”

“A leak.”

Song Biryeong’s voice went flat. Bae Seokjin nodded.

“And if luck is on our side — not just the tail, but the body behind it.”

Song Biryeong sighed and shrugged.

“So she’s just going to let him walk free? What if he runs off somewhere and says things he shouldn’t?”

“He looks like the type to live quietly…… But even if he did cause trouble, the Military Advisor seems to want whatever variable that creates.”

Song Biryeong stared at him.

“Ha? A variable? Arrogant woman. Is she saying she can handle any variable that comes her way?”

Anger — but underneath it, unmistakable worry. Bae Seokjin understood the feeling, which was why his reply came out tinged with something bitter.

“As you know, all of the Dark Alliance is watching us. The Alliance Lord’s death. And now the Young Lord going missing — though it hasn’t come to light yet. We cannot escape either of these.”

“Hmph. And that’s not even all of it. The looks we’re getting from inside the Black Dragon Guard aren’t exactly warm either.”

Even those within the Black Dragon Guard had their eyes on the Four Black Dragons. If the Four Black Dragons bore the blame — the rest of the Guard might walk away clean. And beyond that, the others had never looked kindly on their exceptional abilities and the elevated standing that came with it.

“That’s why the Military Advisor is pushing herself so hard. For now — set your worries aside. If anything goes wrong, I’ll take responsibility.”

Song Biryeong let out a hollow laugh and snapped back.

“Please. Is taking responsibility all the Chief ever does? Aren’t we reliable enough by now? Or did we give you too hard a time back in the beginning and actually leave a scar?”

Bae Seokjin smiled.

“Hehehe. It seems the bullying really did happen. I have more than enough patience to brush off the sulking of children. I take responsibility simply because you call me Chief — that’s all.”

At his teasing, Song Biryeong’s face scrunched.

She was drawing breath to fire back——

Whoosh!

Muk-yeong’s right hand cut sharply through the air.

His left index finger went to his lips.

‘Quiet.’

The two went silent in an instant, erasing even the sound of their breathing.

Muk-yeong sat still for a moment with his eyes closed. Then they opened.

No time to warn anyone. He drew the short sword from behind his waist and drove it straight down into the floor.

CRACK! Thud!

Fssssht!

“Ugh——!”

When he wrenched the blade free, blood spurted alongside the groan.

The other two were on their feet immediately, sweeping the room.

“How many?”

At Bae Seokjin’s question, Muk-yeong shook his head.

Unknown.

“Assassins?”

At Song Biryeong’s question, he nodded.

It made sense. Anyone who had slipped past Muk-yeong’s senses and closed this distance was no ordinary enemy.

“Good thing we rented the whole inn.”

At least the enemy’s attention was confined here. The real question was their objective.

“Looks like Rin called it.”

“Yes. They’re targeting the Young Lord.”

Bae Seokjin was certain.

There was no one who would bother hiring assassins to go after the Four Black Dragons specifically. The righteous path wouldn’t even know who they were yet. And the Dark Path——

Would know.

That assassins alone couldn’t kill them.

The answer was simple.

“Pin us down and go for the Young Lord. Muk-yeong — the two of us will cut a path. You go straight to the mountain——”

BOOM!

Just as Bae Seokjin had seen through their plan——

The enemy had seen through his.

“SCREAM——!”

“F-Fire!! FIRE!!”

A thunderous crash — followed by screaming.

Shhk! BOOM!

Song Biryeong launched herself forward and blew the inn door clean off its hinges.

The moment she stepped outside——

Black-clad figures. Firing flaming arrows.

“You——!!”

Bae Seokjin and Muk-yeong emerged a beat behind her, equally struck silent.

The black garments those figures were wearing.

The Black Dragon Guard’s uniform.

The assassins had dressed themselves in Black Dragon Guard colors and were burning the village.

Even the Military Advisor wouldn’t have anticipated this.

Even in a village this small — there will be people who recognize those uniforms. We have to stop the damage first!

Click.

Bae Seokjin snatched a stone from the ground and hurled it at an assassin chasing a fleeing woman.

Shhhhk! CRACK!

Skull split. Body dropped.

He let killing intent bleed into his voice and gave the order.

“Leave the Young Lord to Geonwoo. We handle this. Leave not one of them breathing.”

“Sir!!”

Song Biryeong and Muk-yeong launched themselves in opposite directions.

Bae Seokjin swung the wooden chest in his hands in a wide arc.

BOOM!

An assassin closing in from behind took a direct hit and went flying.

As the chest shattered, a silver gleam spilled from inside.

Grab.

He snatched it bare-handed.

Whirrrrr! BOOM! CRACK! BOOOOOM!

He spun, sweeping his arm in a wide circle — and his silhouette vanished behind a wall of silver light. Thunderous crashes rang out one after another. The ground heaved and tore apart. The assassins scattered throughout the area had no answer for the storm of destruction raining down on them from every direction.

Thud! Clatter!

Through swirling dust and flying earth——

Bae Seokjin’s eyes burned with cold light.

From the end of the meteor hammer gripped in his fist, blood dripped steadily to the ground.

The Chief of the Four Black Dragons.

The Iron Dragon’s killing intent began to blanket White Cloud Village.

Not a sound from inside.

But the disappearance of Seo Woojin’s presence was felt clearly.

“A hidden passage?”

Well. That explained why he had been so desperate to reach this house.

“Hah…… What a shame. I thought we might have been good friends.”

The Seo Woojin he had observed was a walking contradiction. One moment he seemed to put his own safety above all else — and the next, he was talking about justice. The story that, even while escaping through Hangzhou, he had stepped out in the open to rescue a woman instead of staying hidden had drawn no small number of hollow laughs from him.

On the surface — a complete greenhorn, someone barely past the threshold of the jianghu. But somewhere underneath, something was burning that couldn’t quite be seen.

Interesting.

Precisely — intriguing.

Seo Woojin as a person.

When had anything last been this interesting?

Yoo Geonwoo shook his head and cleared his thoughts.

“Well. Doesn’t matter. He lives in a different world from ours anyway. The real question is whether things are playing out the way the Military Advisor planned……”

As the murmur trailed off, a deep smile settled across his lips.

“Our dear Military Advisor. How is it that nothing ever misses the mark with her. Making life difficult for everyone.”

Killing intent — sharp enough to pierce skin — pressed in from every direction.

All directions at once.

[I’m curious about something.]

Was it a coincidence that Seo Woojin’s words came back to him now?

[What it would take to make you draw your sword.]

Yoo Geonwoo drew his sword slowly.

In that instant, the air around him seemed to plummet.

No — it genuinely had. White vapor curled from his lips.

“There are two cases.”

Whoosh!

He kicked off the ground and shot forward — materializing directly in front of an assassin who had been closing in under concealment. The assassin was the one who flinched.

“One of them is when someone touches what’s ours.”

Shhk. Shhhck.

Thud.

A severed head landed at the same moment he touched down.

What was peculiar was that no blood seeped from the cut.

As though the wound had frozen solid.

Swish!

One clean flick to clear the blade. The deep smile hadn’t left his face.

“Let me show you. What it means — to touch the Four Black Dragons.”

Perhaps deciding that concealment was pointless now, the assassins who had been approaching with careful restraint broke into a simultaneous charge——

The Four Black Dragons’ White Dragon.

Yoo Geonwoo’s sword answered them — scattering frost.

(End of Chapter 7)