Episode 3. Blood in the Marketplace

by God of Music · 2026-08-31

It wasn't enough to call it a fight.

It was closer to a massacre.

There were about ten men dressed in black and dark gray. Their attire varied, but a small skull pattern sewn with red thread on their left arm or waist was common among them. Some wielded curved swords, others twirled two daggers, and still another swung a strange weapon with a bifurcated tip. Their eyes were fierce, and their movements were uninhibited. They were like a pack of hungry wild dogs tearing through people.

Someone muttered lowly.

"It's the Ten Bloodwind Ghosts!"

The moment that name spread, the faces of the people around turned ashen white.

The Ten Bloodwind Ghosts. They were a gang notorious for their cruel methods even among the unorthodox factions. Rumors of them roaming mountain strongholds and border regions, engaging in contract killings and plunder, and drawing their swords without hesitation once they did, had reached the ears of ordinary people like Mu-hyeon several times.

The ones confronting them were the disciples of the Mount Hua Sect.

White do-po robes, black sashes, and hair tied straight back. Just by their sword-wielding stance and footwork, even to an outsider's eyes, it was immediately clear that they were masters of the orthodox faction. There were six of them, fewer than the Ten Bloodwind Ghosts. But the moment their swords were drawn, they didn't seem to be pushed back in the slightest.

One Mount Hua disciple kicked off the ground and leaped up.

Mu-hyeon's eyes widened.

It was clearly a human body. Yet, its movements defied human common sense. Just as a sleeve seemed to cut through the wind and a sword gleam flashed, in the next instant, it was already blocking the simultaneous attacks of two members of the unorthodox faction. The Blood Wind Ten Devils were equally abnormal. They glided across the narrow market floor as if on ice, blades shot out from angles that seemed impossible to dodge, and the speed at which they twisted their bodies was difficult to follow with the eyes.

CRASH!

A cart shattered into pieces and was flung away. It seemed to have been struck by someone's palm force. Broken wooden fragments scattered in all directions, and a middle-aged man fleeing behind it couldn't avoid them in time, taking a shard to the neck and collapsing. He couldn't even scream.

"Get back! Get back!"

Someone shouted at the top of their lungs, but it was too late.

One of the Blood Wind Ten Devils plunged fearlessly into the fleeing crowd, swinging a curved saber. The blade was aimed at a Wudang disciple, but the people caught in its trajectory received no consideration whatsoever. A market woman was deeply cut from her shoulder to her side, gushing blood, and a young man carrying luggage collapsed as if his knees had buckled. A child burst into tears, and an old woman trying to embrace the child was pushed by the aftermath of a flying palm force, hitting a wall.

Cold sweat ran down Mu-hyun's spine.

The fights he knew were limited to fisticuffs or clubbing. This was not a fight. It was a storm. Something in human form collided at invisible speeds, and the mere aftermath killed people around them. Neither side seemed to factor in the lives of ordinary people.

One of the Mount Hwa disciples shouted sharply.

"Get the civilians back!"

It was not to be. People were already terrified, running in all directions, unable to tell where was safe.

Just then, the one who appeared to be the leader of the Ten Bloodwind Ghosts laughed eerily and kicked off a market pillar. His body shot up diagonally, then flipped in mid-air, falling straight down onto the head of a Wudang disciple. The black curved blade glinted blood-red in the setting sun.

Clang!

The Hwasan disciple barely blocked it, but couldn't withstand the impact and one knee buckled. Seizing the opportunity, two evil sect members rushed in from left and right. Just as it seemed one life was about to end, a Hwasan disciple from behind thrust his sword, cutting through the air. The sword tip pierced the evil sect member's neck.

A "thud" sound reached Mu-hyeon's ears.

The evil sect member collapsed, spitting blood. However, the Wudang disciple who thrust the sword was not safe either. Another Bloodwind Ghost sneeringly threw a dagger, which deeply embedded itself in his side. His blue do-po was instantly soaked dark red.

"Martial Uncle!"

A sharp cry erupted.

What followed was even more desperate. The Hwasan disciples instantly formed a formation-like structure, filling each other's gaps and deploying their swords. Sword light rippled continuously, and the twisted attacks of the evil sect members pierced through. Mu-hyeon's eyes couldn't possibly follow it all. One moment a blade flashed, the next someone's blood splattered; one moment bodies brushed past, the next someone had fallen. It was too fast for his eyes to follow, and too terrifying that he wished he hadn't seen it at all.

The tide of battle turned in Hwasan's favor.

Three of the Ten Blood Demons lay on the ground, two groaned with lost arms or legs, and the rest were subdued one by one, unable to break through the encirclement. The leader, who had held out until the end, was repeatedly slashed on the shoulder and thigh before being pinned to the ground with his neck pressed down.

However, it was a brutal victory for Mount Hua.

Two out of the six never rose again. One stopped breathing, gushing blood from his neck, and the other lay motionless with his eyes closed, his abdomen deeply gashed. None of those who survived were unscathed. There was one who couldn't lift his arm, another who stood limping, and another who gritted his teeth, clutching his blood-soaked fellow disciple.

The marketplace floor was drenched in blood.

The bustling market street, which had been full of people just moments before, had instantly become a scene of tragedy.

Mu-hyeon couldn't speak for a long time.

Jin-gon mumbled something beside him, but it didn't register. His fingertips trembled. His legs gave out. He couldn't believe such people existed in the world. Their movements were hard to attribute to the same human. It was the same sword, yet the murderous intent was from a completely different world than any sword he knew. He thought, if they so much as turned their eyes, someone like him would die without being able to lift a finger. That thought struck him hard.

And an even more terrifying thought followed.

What if he were dragged into a battlefield, confronting such people?

His mouth went dry.

Mu-hyeon realized for the first time that day that this war was not just a rumor heard from afar.

He couldn't just stand there in a daze.

One of the surviving Mount Hua disciples recognized the Mount Hua uniform and shouted towards them.

"Are you people from Mount Hua! Lend us a hand!"

Several guards, taken by surprise, rushed forward, and Mu-hyeon and Jin-gon joined them. The injured were carried on a door, instead of a stretcher, to the doctor, scattered market stalls were cleared, and the bodies were covered with straw mats. Under the mat Mu-hyeon covered lay the woman who had been shopping.

Vegetables spilled from her market basket were scattered on the ground, soaked in blood. Beside them, a boy of about six or seven sat, looking down at his mother, his face devoid of tears.

Mu-hyeon couldn't find anything to say to the child.

One surviving Hwasan disciple approached and knelt before the child. He put his blood-stained hand on the child's shoulder and spoke softly, but the child still only looked down at his mother. The back of the man who had just faced the Bloodwind Ten Fiends with a single sword seemed strangely small before the child. There were things even the strong couldn't protect. That obvious truth felt particularly heavy that day.

When the strong clashed, it was these people who died. People who had never held a sword, who had come out to shop, who had no connection whatsoever. And a battlefield, surely, was a place where such deaths covered the entire field.

By the time they finished cleaning up and reached the fork in the road at the foot of the mountain, night had already fallen deep.

Jin-gon had been silent the whole time, but finally spoke at the fork in the road.

"That child today, you know."

"...Yes."

"He really resembles our youngest when he was little."

Mu-hyeon turned to look at Jin-gon.

"I have a twelve-year-old youngest. Above him, there's a sixteen-year-old girl. Since their mother is ill, that girl practically manages the whole household. The wages I earn as their older brother are all that family has."

Jin-gon gazed at the darkness toward the village. The village below Mount Hwa. A few points of light flickered.

"So, Mu-hyeon, I have one favor to ask of you."

"Please speak."

"When you go to the battlefield, don't think of playing the hero. Just think of how to come back alive, no matter what. I'll do the same. It's a hundred times better to live and provide for your family than to die and leave a name."

"...Yes, brother."

"It's a promise."

Jin-gon squeezed Mu-hyeon's shoulder once, then released it, and descended into the darkness toward the village.

Even after returning to the thatched hut that night, sleep did not come.

When he closed his eyes, he saw the man who collapsed after being hit by shrapnel in the neck. He saw the woman who was cut from the shoulder and spewed blood. They were not even parties to the fight. They had merely come out to the market. Yet they died. Those with swords did not even spare them a glance.

On the battlefield, he would have to stand in the very midst of that aftermath.

He pulled the blanket around him and curled up. Run away. Jin-gon's voice echoed again. It was too late now. Desertion meant execution. Once the battle cry was raised, the entire Jianghu would become his enemy. The remaining path was as Joo Myeong-su had said. Endure until death, or take up a sword and die.

'Even if it's just one move to survive, let's try it before I die.'

Only by clinging to that thought did he finally fall into a shallow sleep.

The next morning.

The air on Mount Hwa was incomparably busier than the day before.

Before the sun had fully risen, people were already running about. Weapons were being organized in every courtyard, luggage was being loaded, and main branch disciples, secular disciples, and even those mobilized for miscellaneous tasks were all mixed together, moving. Anyone could see that they were preparing for an expedition.

Even stranger was Ju Myeong-su's attitude.

He, who had acted like a yaksha until yesterday, wore an unbelievably gentle expression today. There were no curses, no kicks, no murderous glares. It was as if he had become a different person.

He gathered Mu-hyeon, Jin-gon, and the other members of their group and cleared his throat.

"You've all worked hard until now."

Strange expressions appeared on people's faces. It was such an unexpected remark that no one knew who should react first.

"Everyone must have had a difficult time. But thanks to that, you've at least become decent human beings."

Ju Myeong-su said, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Today is the day of the expedition."

Their faces hardened again.

Only then did Mu-hyeon look around. Indeed, almost everyone from Mount Hwa was out. Main branch disciples, secular disciples, those moving weapons, those in charge of supplies, even physicians to tend to injuries and those carrying medicinal herbs. They were as busy and orderly as a giant ant colony.

Instead of the wooden swords they had wielded throughout their training, the guards were re-equipped with their respective standard swords that morning. They were real, sharp blades. The weight hanging at their waists told them more clearly than any words that this was no longer practice.

Yu Cheong-ak was present at the table where the expedition roster was being recorded. It was the first time Mu-hyeon had seen him since the day of that announcement. He had the register in front of him, calling out each person's name and confirming their face.

"Jin Mu-hyeon."

"Yes."

The brush tip glided across the paper. Mu-hyeon gazed blankly as his three-character name was written in the roster. It was the first time in his life that his name had appeared anywhere. It was ironic that this first time was for such a roster.

Yu Cheong-ak briefly raised his head and looked at Mu-hyeon. He seemed about to say something, but in the end, he moved on to the next name without a word. Mu-hyeon did not know what was contained in that brief glance. Was it apology, pity, or merely fatigue?

And then, Mu-hyeon saw the first-generation disciples of the Mount Hua Sect for the first time.

Those standing at the very center of the front row were distinctly different from the other disciples. Their swords at their waists, their postures, and their gazes were all extraordinary. They appeared young in age, but the aura ingrained in their bodies was difficult to describe as merely youthful. The air around them felt different. People dared not approach them, and even the secular disciples seemed tense just by glancing at them.

Those are the true swords of Mount Hua.

Yesterday, the Wudang disciples from the marketplace passed by. Were these people also such monsters? No, perhaps they were even more than that. And he, someone like him, was getting involved in a conflict where such monsters clashed.

The expedition began before the sun reached its zenith.

A long procession slowly moved along the mountain path. In front stood the official disciples and the secular disciples who had mastered martial arts, while in the middle and rear were mixed a motley crew like Mu-hyeon, porters, and supply personnel. For the first few shijin, everyone walked in silence. Unfamiliar tension and fatigue combined, so no one spoke unnecessary words. Only the sound of footsteps on the mountain path, cartwheels, and clashing weapons continued for a long time.

As he left the mountain gate, Mu-hyeon looked back just once.

He saw the spot in front of the guest hall where he always stood. The spot where he yawned and was bored. The spot where a day passed just by wearing a ceremonial sword and maintaining a solemn expression. At that time, he thought that boredom was all there was to his life.

Now, that boring day had become something he desperately wished to return to.

"Mu-hyeon."

Jin-gon called out softly.

"Don't fall behind. No matter what happens, stay by my side."

"Yes, elder brother."

The procession descended the mountain. In that flow, Jin Mu-hyeon also could not stop.