The Ruler of Darkness

The streets of Luoyang City were bustling as ever. Since ancient times, Luoyang has been an indispensable political, economic, and cultural center on the continent. Presently, Luoyang was the hub of a massive logistics network covering the entire northern inland region of the continent.

The massive waterway system of the Yellow River was one of the biggest reasons Luoyang became a super-metropolis, home to millions. The volume of logistics coming in and out through here exceeded one’s imagination.

The city was frequented by foreign traders from various ethnicities who were interested in the Central Plains.

Among all sorts of peculiar goods and diverse merchants in the crowded place, there were people who drew the attention of those around them; they were none other than the group of Yeon So-Hyeon.

“Oh, isn’t she a truly beautiful maiden?!”

When a trader from an ethnic minority exclaimed in broken Central Plains language upon seeing Jung-ah, a trader from the Central Plains hastily grabbed the edge of his clothes.

“Man, where are your manners?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

When the trader from the ethnic minority looked taken aback, the Central Plains trader subtly gestured toward Jung-ah’s back.

“Can’t you see the guards? They’re from Luoyang Sword House.”

As soon as he heard “Luoyang Sword House,” the minority trader hushed up instantly.

“…That Luoyang Sword Sect?”

“Yes, the Luoyang Sword House.”

The foreign merchant could not help but react this way.

From the moment he set foot in the northern inland region, countless warnings he heard were about the Luoyang Sword House.

While she was in a mere maidservant’s attire, Jung-ah, for this very reason, hadn’t faced any common flattery. The path naturally cleared as her party passed, for the same reason.

“Hmm. I have some business to attend to, so I’ll join you later.”

Upon hearing Yeon So-Hyeon’s words, the gatekeeper stopped him.

“What do you mean, young master? You’re not suggesting you’d leave me, your escort, behind, are you?”

Yeon So-Hyeon looked at him with a ‘what are you talking about’ expression.

“Of course I’ll leave you behind. You just take care of Jung-ah.”

The gatekeeper put his hand on his forehead and sighed. “No, what nonsensical thing… Huh? Huh?!”

In the brief moment he closed his eyes to sigh, Yeon So-Hyeon was long gone.

“The young master went that way!”

The gatekeeper jumped in the direction Jung-ah was pointing at.

“Oh! It’s a martial artist!”

“It’s lightness skill!”

Exclamations of admiration broke out from around, but he didn’t pay attention and climbed up to the roof of a four-story building. He quickly sharpened his eyesight to survey the surroundings, but there was no sign or shadow of the young master.

“What’s going on…?”

It was as if a ghost had played tricks on him.

Even though he had been mobilizing his inner energy at all times for protection, this young master of his had disappeared without a trace right before his eyes. His suspicion about the identity of the Grand young master, called the Swordless One, surged, but now was not the time.

‘Should I report first?’

But where would he report it to?

Even if he could report it, the problem was clear.

Seeing the attitude the Sword House had towards the Grand young master, it was clear that he would have to take primary responsibility for this.

“Damn it…!”

Cursing, he rushed back to Jung-ah’s side. “Miss Jung-ah. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to take care of your affairs by yourself. I need to find young master as soon as possible…”

Before he could finish speaking, Jung-ah nodded her head.

“I can take care of myself, so please go find Master without worrying.”

At her calm demeanor, the gatekeeper stuck out his tongue.

“Aren’t you worried?”

Jung-ah shook her head with a faint smile.

“For some reason, I find it hard to imagine that anything could happen to him.”

“… Well, that’s true.”

Actually, the gatekeeper agreed to some extent.

If he had genuinely believed the Young Master was in danger, he wouldn’t be chatting leisurely with her. The moment he realized he completely lost sight of the Young Master, he would have ignited the specialized signal flare in his possession, regardless of the consequences.

“Anyway, I’m going to continue searching for the Young Master.”

“I’ll see you later.”

Before Jung-ah could finish her greeting, the gatekeeper’s figure had already disappeared, and she shrugged her shoulders and moved on.

* * *

In a remote corner of Luoyang, a fair distance from the city’s center.

The back alley, shrouded in the deep shadows of the surrounding buildings, was a place that no common citizen would dare approach.

The old tattoo artist who’d settled in this back alley was a retired member of the Black Path (underworld), known for his stinginess and terrible temperament.

However today, he was unusually cautious.

The man leaning comfortably in the chair had an impressively large frame. His muscles were extraordinary, and he had a thick layer of fat, making him appear more like a seated buffalo than a man. Adding to his intimidating appearance were the various large and small skull tattoos filling his huge body.

What the tattoo artist was currently inking was also a new skull tattoo, and the number of already filled dark skull tattoos seemed to well exceed a hundred. But what was even more astonishing was that the man was enjoying a nap while being tattooed.

Napping while your flesh is repeatedly pricked by a needle.

“Ehem, ehem.”

The elderly tattoo artist let out a small cough, put down his needle, and raised a metal mirror to the man’s gaze.

“Do you like it?”

The man who was covering his face with a hot towel sneakily lifted it to look at the metal mirror. Beneath the towel, his eyes were ominously glowing like burning coal, and the hand lifting the towel was full of scars and calluses.

“Good. Next.”

He covered his face with the towel again and leaned deeply into the chair.

“Yes, I’ll continue.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, the tattoo artist started preparing to ink the next skull.

Meanwhile, the man began to enjoy his nap again, taking pleasure in the comfortable chair, warm towel, and the cozy warmth of the stove. 

The tattoo artist inwardly clicked his tongue.

Surely, these so-called Murim martial artists were just different from ordinary humans.

And when the tattoo artist picked up his needle again,

“…….!”

Someone quietly covered his mouth from behind.

The tattoo artist reflexively tried to resist, but upon seeing the bluish glowing blade in front of his neck, he raised his hands to show he wouldn’t resist.

Then, another man appeared, putting his finger to his lips.

The man was not big, but lean, the muscles on his exposed parts gruesomely distinct, and his eyes were as sharp as a blade.

‘Ass-Assassin…!’

Recognizing their actions and demeanor, the retired underworld tattoo artist quickly understood the situation and decided to cooperate quietly with the assassins.

The tattoo artist slowly nodded and, guided by the assassin blocking his mouth, gradually backed away.

As he stepped back, two more assassins entered through the entrance.

The assassins, with their knives in their mouths, silently proceeded through the narrow tattoo parlor without paying any attention to the tattoo artist.

“……”

In an instant, the number of people in the cramped shop more than doubled, but they didn’t make any noise or give any signs of their presence.

Their target was clear.

The two assassins surrounded the man with a massive build like a buffalo, their knives gleaming blue.

“…….!”

There wasn’t even a grunt.

The two blades flashed simultaneously towards the vital points.

Kwajik!

The tattoo artist, who was watching this spectacle, couldn’t believe his own eyes. The man, who was definitely sleeping, caught the falling blades from both sides with his bare hands.

“Gasp……!”

Before the tattooist could even catch his breath from the spectacle, the two assassins who had been attacking the man were smashed against opposing walls.  The assassin on the left had a crushed chest, while the one on the right had a broken jaw.

An instant death.

The man who had already stood up from his seat towered so tall it seemed his head might touch the ceiling. His hands, still holding blades on both sides, extended outwards. Blood dripped from his tightly clenched fists, ran down his arms, and dropped to the floor with a plop.

“Hehehe.”

A throaty, deep laugh befitting his size filled the room.

“Even if you hide your presence and your killing intent, you cannot hide the spirit of your blade.”

The man looked down at the remaining assassins with eyes brimming with murderous intent.

“……Kill him!”

The remaining two assassins charged at him head-on.

“Heh.”

The man sneered briefly and spun the blades in his hands to grasp them properly. What seemed like a showy gesture was executed so swiftly that by the time he finished, the assassins’ blades were already in his face.

However,

The blades held by the man flashed.

One blade, which had pierced an assassin’s stomach, sprung out from his mouth, and the other, which had dug into an assassin’s shoulder, popped out from his opposite side.

Even though their blades had almost reached his face, it was the man who moved later that was unscathed. The assassins crumbled to pieces and fell to the floor.

He moved later, but he was faster.

He only moved his arms, but he was stronger.

“This is the difference between a martial arts expert like me and bugs like you. Do you understand?”

The man casually tossed his blades, pulled over a chair that had fallen behind him, and sat down.

Then, drenched in blood and viscera, he spoke to the stiff old tattooist, “Hey, I guess I need to add four more skull tattoos.”

“Yes! Yes!”

The tattooist hastily stood up and, with shaking hands, began preparing for the procedure again.

“Oh my, you really did a number, my little brother.”

Peeking into the shop was a man who resembled the seated man in size and appearance, apart from the locations of their scars and tattoos.

“Hello, brother. I had some fun while you were away.”

“Good job. Anyway…” He scratched his scruffy beard. “In the end, we couldn’t find that mask artisan. Nor those guys who went after him.”

The man lying in the chair chuckled. “Exactly, you can’t trust those subcontracted punks.”

The man outside clucked his tongue. “But didn’t our guys say they took care of the mask artisan’s family?”

The man sitting in the chair shrugged his shoulders. “I heard they were supposed to capture them, but they accidentally killed them all.”

“Hmmph. Young bloods.”

“Doesn’t our Black Bone Faction have a tendency to be a bit hot-blooded? Even us. Hehe.”

The man standing outside nodded and opened his mouth, “But there’s something that’s been bothering me. I heard a strange story from our guys in charge of that area.”

“What is it?” the man scowled as if he also had some doubts.

“They said that mask artisan’s shop is still doing business as usual?”

The man lying in the chair jumped up at his brother’s words. “What? Isn’t that the mask artisan bastard?”

“No, not according to the kids.”

“Then who?”

“Apparently…”

The man recalled the story he’d heard.

“A chap who looks like a scholar with a pale complexion?”

Anyone wanna guess what happens next? 👁️👁️

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