-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: The Granddaughter of Namgung Sega Returns
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 38
Killing intent.
The will to kill someone. The intention. The thought.
To Seolhwa, who had lived as an assassin for a long time, it was nothing less than a natural instinct.
Kill the opponent. And survive.
To survive, the only option she had was death.
She learned that from Hyeolma.
That long period of learning became a habit, and then an instinct. Now it had become an indelible part of Seolhwa.
‘Red aura.’
As she fought Pawol and her aura turned red, Seolhwa faintly felt it too.
Though she had mastered the Namgung's heart methods, she knew her aura could never be blue.
The color of an aura was said to represent a martial artist's mindset.
She did not yearn for a blue sky. Not as long as she knew the future.
“No one welcomes a sky of blood. Hahaha… The blood on your hands, your cruel nature, will ultimately be your downfall!”
Plunge—!
Pawol, who had been laughing maniacally, instantly turned deathly pale. His wide, bloodshot eyes slowly rolled to his side.
A cold, emotionless face had already appeared beside him.
“If you’re a dog, you should’ve just done what you were told.”
Grind.
Her sword, which had already pierced his injured shoulder, twisted while still embedded.
“Urgh…!”
“If you do something you weren’t told to….”
“W-wait…!”
Simultaneously with Pawol’s desperate cry.
“You die.”
Slash—!
The sharp blade sliced through Pawol’s arm.
Her sword was now full of red aura.
“Aaaargh!”
Pawol screamed in agony and collapsed.
“M-my arm…! Aaaargh!”
A sense of emptiness washed over him along with the pain.
His face turned ashen when he saw his arm, severed and lying apart from his body.
“Th-this is insane…! Kraagh!”
Pawol raised his bloodshot gaze and glared at her.
But he was soon gripped by fear.
The aura surrounding her was now flickering with a burning red light.
A strange sensation, as if the blood flowing from the minor wounds on her body was mixing with her aura. Yet, her expression showed no emotional disturbance.
Her appearance was like a demon from hell.
‘I’m going to die!’
I’m going to die!
That demon will surely slaughter me!
‘Before that…!’
Pawol hastily pulled something from his pocket. But.
Thwack—!
“Aaaargh!”
A flying dagger instantly pierced his hand. It was the very dagger Pawol had thrown at Seolhwa.
Clink.
Seolhwa picked up the object that had fallen from Pawol’s hand.
What he had taken out was a bell tied with a red string.
Jingle—!
“...!”
As the clear bell sound rang out, Seolhwa felt her mind instantly grow hazy.
It was a sensation of being detached from reality, her ears ringing, and her vision dimming.
Just before her rationality completely snapped, Seolhwa barely managed to regain her composure.
The moment she gripped the bell in her hand to prevent it from ringing again.
“...!”
Pop—! Bang—! With those sounds, white smoke spread out from the two of them.
“Cough, cough!”
She instinctively stepped back a couple of paces, covering her mouth and nose, but the smoke she inhaled in that brief moment made her cough.
Beyond the hazy smoke, the sound of Pawol fleeing could be heard.
“Cough…!”
From the way her vision blurred and swam, it seemed it wasn’t just an ordinary smoke bomb.
Seolhwa watched Pawol’s retreating shadow beyond the smoke.
Thump-thump-thump!
‘That monster!’
He clearly expelled all his internal energy, so how on earth…!
Damn it, damn it!
If I had known this would happen, I would've brought a poisonous smoke bomb! How pathetic, throwing a sleeping gas bomb and running away.
‘Is Soruju’s martial prowess truly this strong?’
I heard she was only in her early teens?
Moreover, she discarded the internal energy bestowed by the Lord. I should have clearly overwhelmed her!
‘Damn it!’
Sweat streamed down his forehead.
His breath hitched in his throat, and agonizing pain from his severed arm tore through his entire body.
Yet, his legs didn't stop. The moment he stopped running, he felt as if a sharp blade would plunge into his neck.
It felt like being chased by a hungry beast.
The fear that death would snatch him by the scruff of his neck at any moment.
Sweat flowed into his eyes. His vision blurred because of it, and he reflexively squeezed his eyes shut. It was then.
Thwack—!
“...!”
A sharp pain shot through his right arm.
Pawol looked back at his right arm with terror-stricken eyes. Simultaneously.
Slash—!
“Aaaargh!”
The silver blade sliced through his arm.
With his last remaining arm falling away strangely limp, Pawol lost his balance and fell.
“Gah! Ugh…!”
His body, unable to resist its momentum, rolled for a long time before crashing loudly into a large tree.
“Choke!”
Dark red blood gushed from between his lips.
His vision swam, and he couldn’t collect himself.
He wanted to sit up, but with no arms to brace himself, he had to remain sprawled on the ground.
Small footsteps slowly approached him as he lay there, pitifully collapsed.
Pawol, raising his terror-stricken gaze, involuntarily flinched and trembled.
Her black eyes, filled with killing intent, still gazed down at him with a tranquil light.
Despite clearly having inhaled the sleeping gas, her eyes hadn't blurred in the slightest.
Terrified, Pawol instinctively begged for his life.
“S-save me… No, please, save me. Soruju….”
Seolhwa knelt before him.
As her hand approached, Pawol squeezed his eyes shut.
‘I’m going to die!’
Tap. Tap-tap.
“?”
Contrary to Pawol’s expectations, Seolhwa did not kill him.
Seolhwa helped Pawol sit up, then pressed his vital points to slow the bleeding.
Then, she tore Pawol’s upper garment and tightly bound his severed arms to stop the bleeding.
“...?”
Pawol watched her with a bewildered expression.
Her touch was so meticulous, one might think she wasn’t the one who had cut them off.
Pawol burst out in anger.
“What are you doing?! If this is it, just kill me!”
Seolhwa tilted her head.
“Didn’t you just beg for your life?”
“Ugh…!”
“And I never intended to kill you in the first place.”
“...What?”
Having finished the treatment, Seolhwa stood up and dusted off her hands.
Her eyes curved slightly.
“Why would I do what that person wants?”
Hyeolma must have sent Pawol to her, hoping she would kill him in their fight.
An assassin who proves their existence solely through killing. He wanted to draw out and engrave that assassin’s instinct in her.
‘No matter where you go, your true nature, that of an assassin, will not change.’
Seolhwa’s expression grew even colder.
Hyeolma was that kind of person.
Someone who would place every situation in the palm of his hand, using everyone like chess pieces to control the game himself.
And until recently, she had been Hyeolma’s most easily manipulated piece.
“I won’t kill you.”
But leaving him alive was too dangerous, so she cut off both his arms.
With both arms severed, Pawol was effectively useless. He would be killed by Hyeolma the moment he returned to Hwaoru.
‘But that’s none of my concern.’
“You absolutely must live. Because I have something to tell that person.”
“Tell… him something?”
Pawol’s face brightened with the hope of truly surviving.
“W-what should I tell him?”
“That I won’t be returning.”
“...What?”
“That from now on, I will live as Namgung’s sword, not yours. Therefore, you and I are enemies.”
Pawol stared blankly up at her.
For the first time, he felt an emotion—anger—from her, who had been completely devoid of feeling until now.
“Go and tell him clearly.”
“You….”
Though she shed no tears, a seething resentment emanated from her. Not just from the past eight years, but deeper feelings of anger and sorrow.
Pawol recalled the day he first met her.
The child that person had suddenly brought one day.
‘Waaah—! Mommmmyyy! Dadddyyy!’
That place was hell.
That person would give food, clothes, and money to the strong children, but didn't care at all when the weak ones were thoroughly trampled.
It was a place where, to survive, you had to kill friends and siblings, and sometimes, when there was no food, you had to tear apart and eat even rats and dead bodies.
The children living in a place where attempting to escape usually resulted in being found dead the next day wished for only one thing.
‘To catch that person’s eye and receive more food and clothes.’
The child never belonged there from the beginning.
The child, clearly from a noble family, would just cry and throw tantrums for days on end, a week even.
She wouldn’t eat properly, constantly crying for her mom and dad, over and over.
Taking care of the child was a nuisance, but Pawol protected her, preventing other children from bothering her.
Because if he performed this task well, he might catch that person’s eye.
To Pawol, Ilhwa was a path to advancement, a lifeline that would save him from his cramped, dirty hovel, so he diligently cared for the child.
Then, one day.
The child stopped crying.
It was after that person took the child out one day and returned.
