Baek Kang-Hyun soared forward like a predator descending from the cliffs, his body infused with the surging heat of Blue Sun Palm at full perfection.
With a vicious twist, he dove toward Han Ri, his fingers splayed wide like the talons of a hunting eagle.
In Han Ri's panicked, disbelieving eyes, Kang-Hyun's figure loomed like a nightmare made flesh.
Before he could retreat—
Crunch!
Kang-Hyun's claw-like hand locked around Han Ri's skull. The force of the internal Ki erupted through his palm. With a thunderous crack, Blue Sun energy and revitalized blood force poured through Han Ri's head and spine in reverse, like a dam shattering.
Crack!
Han Ri's cervical vertebra snapped instantly. His neck twisted grotesquely, turning a full 270 degrees.
"U-Uagh—!"
A strangled howl escaped his broken throat. His body collapsed onto the floor in a horrific posture—limbs twitching, mouth hanging open in agony, his bulging eyes still frozen in mortal terror.
He had died wide-eyed.
Baek Kang-Hyun stood above the corpse, breathing slowly. His gaze lingered on the lifeless face twisted in fear. Quietly, he reached down, gently pressed Han Ri's eyelids shut, and turned his head back into a more natural angle.
Crack, crack—
The broken bones shifted under his grip. Now the body looked more peaceful.
Kang-Hyun nodded with faint approval.
"I'm still too softhearted. I can't stand to see a corpse unable to rest."
Because he hadn't used a blade, Han Ri's body wasn't drenched in blood—only the left side of his chest had caved in, clearly showing the palm-shaped impact zone that shattered his heart.
He thought this would be his first kill after transmigrating—he expected panic, dizziness, maybe nausea.
But unexpectedly, this body… remained calm.
Killing was like breathing.
Then again, it made sense. His predecessor had lived as the Chief Martial Guest of the Black River Clan—a title built upon spilled blood. Death had walked at his side for years.
This kind of killing… was nothing new.
What surprised Baek Kang-Hyun even more was how powerful the perfected Blue Sun Palm had become. A single blow had crushed the heart of a martial artist at the 5th Layer of the Mortal Body Stage.
Compared to this, the Everlasting Pulse Art was more like silent rain—gentle, nurturing, but utterly lacking killing intent.
After cleaning Han Ri's corpse with a cloth, Kang-Hyun quickly turned toward the unconscious Gu Mo.
The old man lay limp in the corner, unconscious. Blood stained his temple. Kang-Hyun sighed softly.
An ordinary old man like him… How could he survive Han Ri's brutal kick?
Even if there were no visible wounds, the fact that he remained unconscious after so long wasn't a good sign.
But still—he had taken that blow for Kang-Hyun's sake.
Whether or not he was useful, whether or not he could fight—it didn't matter.
Baek Kang-Hyun would save him, even if it cost him.
He crouched beside Gu Mo, gently placed two fingers on the old man's neck, checking for breath and pulse.
But just as he touched the skin, a raspy voice whispered:
"…Master… You… You're alive?"
Baek Kang-Hyun blinked, startled. His head snapped up.
Gu Mo's eyes were open—clouded with shock and disbelief—but alive. Barely.
His mouth trembled, but his words were clear.
The two locked eyes for a few moments.
"Are you… alright?" Baek Kang-Hyun finally asked, eyebrows rising in disbelief. For a man who had just taken a direct kick from someone at the 5th Layer of the Mortal Body Stage, Gu Mo looked surprisingly… intact.
Gu Mo chuckled awkwardly, lowering his head a little as he scratched behind his ear.
"Hehe… I, uh… usually get cold in the stomach, so I wear an extra mat for warmth." He pulled out a thick, padded straw mat tucked under his clothes. His eyes kept avoiding Kang-Hyun's. After a moment, he added in a mumble:
"I also practice some body-conditioning forms on the side. Nothing fancy, just the basic ones. Probably saved me just now."
Kang-Hyun blinked, then let out a dry laugh.
Body-conditioning arts were considered entry-level martial techniques, practiced even by outer servants in clans. Their main purpose was to harden skin, develop muscle tolerance, and strengthen bones. They were easy to learn, but results were slow and rarely impressive.
With a glance, Kang-Hyun could tell Gu Mo's mastery was only at minor proficiency.
"Not bad," he muttered, eyeing the man with fresh amusement. "You sly old dog. So you faked death to escape the worst of it?"
Gu Mo coughed, then quickly pointed to the smear of blood on his head.
"This is real, though! Just a cut. But yeah… I feel a little dizzy."
"If you're still talking, you're not dying." Kang-Hyun rolled his eyes, then stood up and turned toward Han Ri's corpse.
He'd nearly forgotten—he hadn't even searched the body yet.
If Han Ri was truly marked as a Son of Martial Fate, there had to be something—some secret, some artifact—that had granted him such high luck.
Just as Kang-Hyun took a step forward, a thought struck him. He turned back and said sharply:
"Han Ri's dead now. His followers, if any remain, probably have no backbone. Go out and summon them all."
"Tell them—if they don't want to die, come here willingly."
Gu Mo's eyes widened. "Han Ri's… really dead?"
"Don't believe me?" Kang-Hyun grinned. "Look over there. The body's still warm."
Gu Mo crept over and peeked at the body—and his whole face went pale.
"Aigoo!"
He staggered back, slapped his thigh, and jumped up like he'd seen a ghost. Then, slapping dust off his clothes, he hurried toward the door.
"Wait." Kang-Hyun called out again.
"Y-Yes, master?!" Gu Mo froze, trembling, not daring to turn around.
"Wipe the blood off your head. You look like a wandering ghost."
"R-Right! I'll do that!"
Kang-Hyun chuckled softly as he watched the old man's back vanish down the hall.
This old guy… acts simple, but clearly has his own way of surviving.
He turned back to Han Ri's body, his expression growing serious. Crouching down, he prepared to inspect the corpse in detail.
But just then, a new prompt flashed silently across his field of vision.
A glowing panel popped up—its icon still marked as [Unread Notification].