The Legend of the Northern Blade

After a day spent in a coma, the Seven Star Sage regained consciousness.

Chang Gong, the Mount Hua Sect disciple tending to him, asked, “Junior Uncle, are you okay?”

He ignored them, his gaze fixed blankly on the cabin ceiling. He was aware the disciples feared he might still be ensnared by his inner demons, but that wasn’t the case; he simply needed a moment to gather his thoughts.

Chang Woon’s death, the betrayal from within their ranks—it all felt too surreal, like a bad dream. He wished it were just a nightmare, but the stark reality stood undeniable.

He rose from the bed and stumbled to his feet.

Noticing his sudden action, Chang Hye, another disciple, gasped in surprise, “Junior Uncle?”

“Where are Chang Woon and Il Won’s bodies?” he asked briskly.

“Master Tang is conducting an autopsy on them in his cabin.”

Without a word, the Seven Star Sage made a beeline for Tang Gi-Mun’s cabin, with Chang Gong and Chang Hye trailing quietly behind him. Barging into the room, he found Tang Gi-Mun, Jin Mu-Won, and Ha Jin-Wol examining the corpses.

Tang Gi-Mun approached him. “Seven Star, are you alright?”

“What have you discovered?”

“Well…”

“Tell me.” The Seven Star Sage’s intense gaze bore down on Tang Gi-Mun, demanding an answer.

“This way,” Tang Gi-Mun sighed in defeat.

Standing by the corpses, the Seven Star Sage glimpsed Chang Woon’s face, and a surge of grief threatened to overwhelm him once more.

To distract himself, he turned his attention to the other body. Beside the body, a porcelain jar of liquid was found on Il Won, which Tang Gi-Mun identified as a potent acid. Curiously, Tang Gi-Mun had removed Il Won’s shirt, revealing his bare chest.

The Seven Star Sage shot Tang Gi-Mun a puzzled look, questioning his actions.

In response, Tang Gi-Mun took out a small jade vial and explained, “You won’t see anything with the naked eye, but with this Illusion Dispelling Powder, everything changes.”

Tang Gi-Mun sprinkled the powder over the corpse’s chest.

“What are you doing?” the Seven Star Sage asked.

“This lad has a tattoo that is normally invisible, but with this special formula, it will be revealed. Watch,” Tang Gi-Mun instructed.

Soon, a faint tattoo started to emerge on Il Won’s chest, depicting a sinister two-faced demon so vivid it seemed poised to leap off his skin.

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“Even I only discovered this after a full day’s examination,” Tang Gi-Mun added.

“Why would he have a tattoo on his chest…” the Seven Star Sage whispered, his eyes trembling. In the Mount Hua Sect, tattoos were considered the marks of criminals.

“Junior Uncle!”

Chang Woon and Chang Hye were equally baffled, knowing that this was Il Won’s first venture outside the sect since joining. Having neither the time nor the opportunity to get a tattoo during his training, he must have gotten it prior to joining the Mount Hua Sect and kept it hidden.

The Seven Star Sage fixed his gaze on Tang Gi-Mun. “Who else knows about this tattoo?”

“Just us here.”

“Keep this under wraps for now.”

“Seven Star…”

“Please.”

“…Understood.”

The Seven Star Sage clenched his teeth, his eyes bloodshot.

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Jin Mu-Won observed him closely. This tattoo was inscribed before Il Won joined the Mount Hua Sect, which means that someone must have sent him there with a purpose. Judging by the Seven Star Sage’s reaction, he’s come to the same conclusion. Hmm… Is there a group in the murim that uses a two-faced demon as a symbol?

Though both demons’ faces were identical, their expressions were not—one appeared calm, while the other seemed ready to pounce.

What’s going on in the murim?

Suddenly, Jin Mu-Won recalled the Demonic Cross of Blood. Although he had questioned Jo Cheon-Woo, the man knew nothing about it. Right now though, his unusually sharp intuition hinted at a significant connection between the Demonic Cross of Blood and the two-faced demon tattoo.

Why did Il Won kill Chang Woon? Did he stumble upon something he shouldn’t have?

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Questions swirled in his mind, deepening his confusion. Jin Mu-Won quietly exited the cabin, leaning against the deck rail as a cold wind swept by.

Is the reappearance of the Silent Night stirring dormant forces, or has there been an undercurrent in the murim all along?

A storm was brewing in the murim, and the ensuing chaos was unpredictable.

Suddenly, footsteps approached, jolting Jin Mu-Won from his thoughts. “Is something the matter, Sage?” he asked.

“You said your name was Jin Mu-Won, right?” the Seven Star Sage greeted, approaching him.

“Yes.”

“I won’t thank you, but I will repay this debt one day.”

“……”

“I swear this on the honor of the Mount Hua Sect.”

An oath on the name of the Mount Hua Sect carried immense weight. Although the Seven Star Sage could not recall his time ensnared by inner demons, he knew the danger had been grave. Most who succumbed to inner demons ended up with qi deviation, losing their martial prowess and becoming crippled even if they recovered their sanity. He should have been no different, yet not only was he fine, his qi had increased, and he felt he could reach even greater heights.

What happened to me? I have no clue what this Jin Mu-Won kid did, but he definitely did something.

Despite his harsh demeanor, he was not ungrateful, and repaying kindness was a cornerstone of his principles. Recent events had also altered his view of Jin Mu-Won.

Even though he’s a formidable swordsman at such a young age, he has a compassionate heart. It seems that a new guiding star has risen in the murim, shining the way forward.

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Initially, he had scoffed at the pretentious alias “Northern Blade”, but now, he accepted it. In fact, it seemed the rumors had severely understated Jin Mu-Won’s abilities.

The Seven Star Sage sensed a new wind sweeping through the murim, one with Jin Mu-Won at its helm.

If you were to ask where the world’s smartest congregated, nine times out of ten, the answer would be the Seomoon Clan. Renowned for producing generations of top strategists, it was a common belief in the murim that favor from the Seomoon Clan could sway the fate of empires.

The clan was currently led by Seomoon Jong-Cheon, but the true force behind it was his father, Seomoon Hwa, the Grand Elder.

Seomoon Hwa had transformed the Seomoon Clan from mere strategists to a dominant power. He broke the mold that strategists couldn’t excel in martial arts, earning a place among the Nine Skies.

A decade earlier, following the disbandment of the Northern Army, Seomoon Hwa chose seclusion. Rarely did he appear before the clan members, spending most of his days in his private study, the Ownerless Pavilion.

Tucked away in the deepest reaches of the Seomoon territory, the Ownerless Pavilion was a modest structure. Unassuming to the eye, it housed a lethal security system that no clan member except Seomoon Hwa could deactivate without fatal consequences.

Seomoon Jong-Cheon, a scholarly man in his mid-fifties, approached the house with caution. Despite his intellect, he had always felt a twinge of tension near the Ownerless Pavilion.

Stopping before the deadly barrier, he announced his arrival, “Father, it’s me, Jong-Cheon.”

Immediately, the surroundings transformed. A hidden path revealed itself as Seomoon Hwa granted him safe passage.

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Seomoon Jong-Cheon treaded the path, marveling at the shifting scenery. Father has reached yet another level of mastery, he mused, awestruck by the complexity of the formations.

The brief walk stretched into what seemed an eternity. Upon reaching the pavilion, the door swung open and a weathered voice beckoned, “Come in.”

“Yes, Father,” he answered, straightening up before entering.

Inside, the study was far larger than its exterior suggested. Rows of bookshelves lined the walls, yet to Seomoon Jong-Cheon’s surprise, only two books remained.

Removing books from such a collection was a herculean task, particularly for the knowledge-thirsty minds of the Seomoon Clan. The fact that Seomoon Hwa, one of the Nine Skies, had nearly emptied his shelves hinted at his near escape from the clutches of wisdom’s greed. The two books that remained likely symbolized his last worldly attachments.

At a small table in the center, facing away from the sunlight filtering through the window, sat an elderly man with a gaze that carried the weight of centuries.

Seomoon Jong-Cheon knelt down and bowed his head deeply before the old man. “Father, I’ve come as you summoned,” he stated.

“Patriarch, raise your head.”

“Yes, Father.” Seomoon Jong-Cheon looked up as commanded.

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“How are things progressing?” Seomoon Hwa asked.

“Everything is unfolding as you’ve directed, flawlessly. You have nothing to worry about.”

“See that it continues so.”

“Of course. How could I possibly disregard your orders, Father?”

“Hmm…” Seomoon Hwa murmured, a shadow of disappointment crossing his features.

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Though Seomoon Jong-Cheon was undoubtedly brilliant, he still didn’t quite meet Seomoon Hwa’s expectations. He manages well enough, but he lacks the vision to create something from nothing. It’s a pity. If only Hye-Ryung had been born male…

Among the clan’s descendants, only Seomoon Hye-Ryung reached the standards Seomoon Hwa set, a fact he kept to himself.

“Do your best. The other members of the Nine Skies will soon make their move.”

“What?”

“Until now, we’ve maintained a delicate balance, but with the Silent Night’s return, all our current constraints are lifted.”

“And will you also…?”

“Yes, it appears the moment has arrived for me to reengage with the world. The celestial energies are in turmoil.”

The previous night, Seomoon Hwa had observed the skies. The sea of stars, once tranquil, now showed signs of disturbance, and the Northern Star, the symbol of his ultimate nemesis that he long thought extinguished, once again flickered faintly.

I must identify its master, then ensure it never shines again.

A trace of killing intent passed through Seomoon Hwa’s eyes, which radiated a mysterious divine light.