Murin entered the kitchen and tilted his head at Chef Yeon.
"You said you never asked for that?"
Chef Yeon, a broad-built man who looked kindly enough, nodded and pointed to the water jar in one corner of the kitchen.
"Honestly, boy! Didn't you just go draw water? There is plenty of water, so why would I...."
Crash!
Just then, the loud sound of something breaking rang out from outside.
Chef Yeon and Murin met each other's eyes, then headed outside without either one taking the lead.
Occasionally, ruffians picked fights and came to blows, but there had never been a fight violent enough to make sounds of things being smashed apart like this.
"...!"
But Chef Yeon and Murin froze where they stood when they saw the gruesome scene inside the inn.
Black martial arts uniforms.
Men whose faces were almost half-covered by black masks were looking their way.
And on the floor....
"...Innkeeper! U-Uncle Yong!"
Chang Ho and Yong Gang lay sprawled in pools of blood.
Murin trembled violently as he approached them.
Then a hand pulled him back.
"Don't! Murin! Run, quickly!"
"...Uncle Yeon!"
"Go!"
Chef Yeon adjusted his grip on the kitchen knife in his hand and forcibly shoved Murin behind him.
He was an experienced man.
Instinctively, he knew that the men in black martial arts uniforms had not come here with good intentions.
Otherwise, they would not have killed Chang Ho and Yong Gang as well.
'They're silencing witnesses!'
How many things had he heard while working as a cook at the inn?
Naturally, he had heard more than enough talk about the martial world and its martial artists.
Among those tales, he had repeatedly heard that martial artists casually killed uninvolved people to conceal their secrets.
"Kill them."
And as if to prove his thought correct, one of the men in black martial arts uniforms spoke quietly.
Whoosh—
At the command, the other men with swords sprang forward.
"Uncle Yeon!"
"Run!"
Chef Yeon raised his large kitchen knife, intending to face the men.
Slice—
But his body soon lost its balance and fell forward.
He had held a knife throughout his life, but a cook who held a kitchen knife in a kitchen was fundamentally different from a martial artist who had killed countless people in the martial world.
Splurt!
Blood gushed out, and Murin blankly watched Chef Yeon's arm, still clutching the knife, rise through the air.
Then another sight entered his eyes.
Clink—
The money pouch in Yong Gang's hand as he lay on the floor....
One of the men in black martial arts uniforms was forcibly prying away the pouch, which Yong Gang gripped as tightly as if he would not give it to anyone even in death.
Then the pouch opened, and pieces of silver tumbled onto the floor.
'U-Uncle Yong!'
The pouch had been empty when he handed it to him.
Then why was there silver inside it?
So much of it, too....
Something snapped inside Murin's mind.
Whoosh—
At the instant a man sent his sword flying toward him,
Murin roughly seized Chef Yeon's kitchen knife from the floor and swung it.
Crunch!
"...Kgh!"
The razor-sharp kitchen knife sliced halfway through the neck of the man who had been swinging his sword at Murin.
"...!"
The expressions of the men in black martial arts uniforms changed drastically at the sight.
He had not trained in martial arts.
If he had, his movements were far too rough and clumsy.
Yet a man at the level of a second-rate martial artist had been struck down.
No matter how off guard he had been, he should not have died to a blade wielded by such a young boy.
"What are you staring at? Kill him!"
"By your command!"
"Kraaaah!"
In that instant, the men sensed something strange.
The boy now looked completely different from before....
It was....
'His eyes have changed! H-How can a human have eyes like that?!'
Only moments ago, the boy's eyes had been filled with shock and terror. Now they were the eyes of a beast that had lost its young.
The eyes of a ghost burning with nothing but killing intent and vengeance!
As the men facing him unconsciously faltered, the beast lunged at them.
Crunch!
It was crude.
There was no form to it.
He did not know how to wield a blade to kill a person effectively and quickly.
He simply held the kitchen knife and struck down madly until flesh tore and bones broke.
It did not matter whether blood splashed across his face or whether the person before him shrieked in his death throes and thrashed about.
"You bastard!"
After brutally mangling one man beyond recognition, the boy looked at another rushing toward him with eyes glinting with a ghostly aura.
But this time, the man did not retreat.
His pride as a martial artist was at stake.
How could a second-rate martial artist like him be driven back while nothing more than a lowly inn servant ran rampant in madness?
Instead, he was humiliated that he had even flinched at the boy's momentum for a moment. So he resolved to kill him in the most gruesome way possible.
To tear him apart as much as he could, until no trace of his original form remained.
Crunch!
"...?"
He felt certain his sword had cut.
But something was wrong.
What was this searing heat he felt in his chest?
When he slowly looked down at his chest, a kitchen knife was embedded there.
"Urgh...."
His body would not obey his mind.
He wanted to do something, but neither his arms nor legs nor even his tongue would move.
"Hurk!"
All he could manage was to force out a ragged breath.
He staggered badly and collapsed where he stood.
"Haa, haa! I'll kill you! I'll tear every last one of you apart and kill you!"
He had gone mad.
Drenched in bright red blood, the boy's eyes had completely rolled back.
The leader of the men in black martial arts uniforms frowned as he watched the boy who had lost his mind.
"Move aside!"
Realizing that his subordinates could not suppress the boy's madness, he decided to carry out the execution himself.
A mad beast had to be struck down at the outset.
And they had no time.
By now, the Martial Alliance must have begun its pursuit.
Whoosh—
The moment that thought crossed his mind, he had no time to delay.
He drew his sword and rushed straight at Murin.
As a first-rate master, he had honed his sword through thousands, tens of thousands of swings.
It wounded his pride to have to show the result of that grueling training to the likes of this boy, but the situation left him no choice.
His sword, blazing with a blue edge of qi, bore down on Murin.
Then something astonishing happened.
Step—
This was a situation in which he should have dodged, blocked, or been struck by the attack.
His opponent was merely an inn servant from an unnamed inn.
Yet the boy leaped forward instead.
Using his left shoulder as a shield, he swung the kitchen knife in his right hand in a broad arc.
"...What?"
Such madness could not exist in martial arts.
Crash!
With no way to do anything else, his sword sank into Murin's left shoulder.
Blood spurted from the boy's shoulder, but the man had no time to rejoice at his victory.
No, he could not.
Drip. Drip.
The man turned his distorted eyes and stared at the kitchen knife lodged in the nape of his neck.
Impossible.
No matter what, this was...!
"M-monster...."
An ordinary person could not defeat a master trained in martial arts like this.
Something utterly unbelievable had happened.
"C-Captain!"
The other men in black martial arts uniforms were horrified as they watched their Captain, who had inflicted a deep wound on the boy's shoulder only to have his own throat cut in return.
Wheee—
Then an eerie flute sound rang out from far away.
At the same time, the men in black martial arts uniforms stirred.
"The Secret Pursuit Unit! The Martial Alliance is already here!"
"Retreat!"
They could not leave traces behind.
They hurriedly scattered something around the room and tried to ignite a firestarter to burn away every last piece of evidence.
Stab!
But someone's chest was split open.
Then someone's head fell from its neck.
After that, another person's throat was cut, and in the end only one man remained.
"You crazy bastard...!"
Watching Murin fly toward him, the man wore a face steeped in instinctive terror.
Crunch!
Feeling the chipped kitchen knife sink into his skull, he died on the spot.
"Haa, haa!"
After killing them all in an instant, Murin was terribly thirsty.
Not because he wanted water.
Blood.
As he looked at the blood scattered everywhere, he felt an unbearable thirst.
'I want to kill! I want to... kill!!'
He had been like this whenever he held a bladed weapon for as long as he could remember.
It felt as though something else were controlling him.
But Murin had no intention of resisting it.
He only craved blood more deeply.
Then a group of people entered the inn.
"Secret Pursuit Unit! Secure this area!"
They were a middle-aged man with graying hair and several masters.
Unlike the men in black martial arts uniforms, they wore white martial arts uniforms with the character for Secret embroidered over their chests.
"Kraaaah!"
"Hm?"
In that instant, the middle-aged man spotted Murin, soaked in blood and charging at him with a kitchen knife in hand.
His momentum was fierce, like that of a beast leaping at the scent of blood.
Grab—
"Urk!"
But Murin could go no farther; the man had seized him by the throat.
The man quietly examined Murin, and his expression hardened further.
"Good heavens! Something that should not exist was here!"
"Director, what do you mean by that?"
The man was the Director of the Secret Pursuit Court, the superior organization of the Secret Pursuit Unit.
His name was Namgung Jin.
He was the current head of the famed Namgung Clan and one of the Five Greatest Swords Under Heaven.
He was also one of the foremost masters in the Martial Alliance.
Yet Murin had rushed at such a man, drunk on blood, only to be caught by the throat.
"I'll kill you...! I'll tear every last one of you apart and kill you!"
But Murin's eyes grew even more steeped in madness.
It was a state that no one could call normal.
"A Ghost Womb! This one cannot be left unchecked!"
Murin charged at him in fury, but Namgung Jin's hand moved faster.
Thud!
Before he could even see what had moved, Murin fell into deep darkness.
Drip. Drip.
"Mmh...."
When Murin opened his eyes after time had passed, he heard water dripping all around him.
The steady sound of dripping water was extremely irritating.
But more than that, Murin felt a severe stiffness in the back of his neck and struggled to rise.
A strange place reeking of mustiness, where only a few torches cast faint light into the darkness.
'A cave?'
No, it was not merely a cave.
He could see thick, solid iron bars illuminated by torches farther beyond him.
'A prison?'
Someone had deliberately locked him in this place.
He did not know why, but it was probably that middle-aged man.
"Oho! You're awake!"
Then, from beside him, came a voice like nails scraping across an iron plate.
Murin started and looked to the side, but the darkness was so thick that he could not tell who was there.
"Keh, there is no need to be surprised! In any case, welcome to the Martial Alliance's Heavenly Prison! Keh keh!"
"Heavenly Prison...?"
"The worst prison, where they lock up vile scum like you!"
As he said this, the old man cackled as though something pleased him immensely.
Having regained his senses, Murin ground his teeth no matter what the old man said.
Then he immediately stood and rushed toward the faint light.
Bang!
Thick iron bars blocked his way.
"Aaaah!"
Murin madly pounded the bars blocking him with both fists.
But there was no way he could affect the iron bars.
Bang! Bang!
Murin eventually gripped the bars with both hands and began smashing his head against them with all his strength.
Blood splashed, and the area became a mess, but he had no intention of stopping.
"Good heavens, what a savage boy! But do you mean to kill yourself that way? Keh keh!"
At the old man's mockery, Murin raised his blood-streaming face and sharply turned his head toward the voice.
Dense killing intent poured in streams from his eyes.
"Will you shut that mouth?"
Even at that chilling tone, the old man answered leisurely.
"Tsk! If you're so angry, you should first learn to take proper care of your own body. Do you think this place is so easily trifled with?"
"I said shut up!"
Murin suddenly lost his reason and charged at the old man.
No, he tried to charge at him.
"...!"
In an instant, an enormous pressure that constricted his whole body brought him to a jerking halt.
'What is this...?!'
It was something he had never experienced in his life.
Feeling sweat run down his cheek, he trembled all over.
"Tsk. A fledgling with not a trace of inner arts, and you think you can do something against iron bars that even absolute masters cannot break?"
"I have to get out. Get out and avenge my uncles...."
"What vengeance will you take when you get out in that state?"
"What does an old man like you know to speak so freely about it?!"
Then the old man's voice suddenly sank.
"My hatred runs deep enough as well."
Murin fell silent at the frost-laden voice.
"So shut up and sit down. If you make a needless commotion, those bastards will come swarming in."
Murin bit his lip until it bled.
Between the extraordinary thickness of the iron bars and the old man's words, he realized that this truly was a place beyond anything he could handle.
"Hoo... Damn it!"
Murin stood with his fists clenched tight for a long time, then returned to his place and dropped heavily to the ground.
"But where did you say this place was?"
"I said it was the Martial Alliance's Heavenly Prison, where they lock up vile scum like you."
"Like me? I'm only an inn servant! So why have I been brought to a place like this...?"
"An inn servant? Krahahahaha!"
At Murin's claim that he was an inn servant, the old man began laughing like a madman.
As though it were so funny he could hardly bear it.
"Why are you laughing?"
Though Murin showed his displeasure, the old man took a long while to stop laughing before uttering a single sentence.
"You don't know what you are? Keh keh!"
Though he could not see them, Murin suddenly felt as if the old man's eyes were piercing him with an extremely sharp gaze.
"That you are the Heavenly Kill Star."
The Heavenly Kill Star.
Murin's expression hardened.