CHAPTER 31: CHAPTER 30 : TWELVE BLADES

The silence that followed the battle felt heavy with possibilities, like the moment before thunder breaks across a clear sky. Jinmu stood among his twenty copies in the carved stone pavilion, watching as Palace Master Danhye Yeoryeong helped her disciples recover from their ordeal. The immediate rescue had been successful, but success in one battle didn’t guarantee victory in the larger war that was clearly coming.

I need to think this through carefully, he thought, studying the faces of the defeated Night Drizzle Sect assassins scattered across the stone floor. Simply eliminating the guards and leaving would create too many questions. Do Giseon would know immediately that something went wrong. But what if we didn’t eliminate them? What if we replaced them?

The idea took shape in his mind with crystalline clarity. The Night Drizzle Sect operated under strict protocols of concealment and minimal communication. Their own superiors wouldn’t necessarily know every operative by sight, and their techniques emphasized anonymity over individual recognition. With the right preparation, his copies could assume the identities of the fallen assassins without arousing suspicion.

"Palace Master," he said quietly, approaching Danhye Yeoryeong as she finished helping one of her disciples counteract the drugs in his system. "I need to ask something that may sound strange, but it’s crucial for everyone’s safety."

Yeoryeong looked up at him with the sharp intelligence that had made her legendary throughout the orthodox world. "I’m listening."

"Can you and your people maintain the appearance of being prisoners for a while longer?" Jinmu asked, gesturing toward the cells that had held them captive. "Not actually imprisoned, but appearing to be held under guard by the same assassins who captured you originally?"

She’s going to want an explanation, he realized, watching Yeoryeong’s expression shift from confusion to calculating interest. But I can’t tell her about the copying ability. That secret is too dangerous to share, even with someone I trust. I need to frame this in terms of conventional tactical deception.

"You’re suggesting we stage our continued captivity," Yeoryeong said slowly, her voice thoughtful rather than alarmed. "Using some kind of infiltration technique to place your people in positions where they can maintain the illusion while actually protecting us."

"Exactly," Jinmu confirmed, relieved that she was grasping the concept without requiring explanations he couldn’t provide. "Do Giseon will expect regular reports confirming that you’re still secure. If those reports stop coming, or if they indicate that something went wrong, he’ll know his plans have been compromised."

One of the rescued Yeonhwa disciples, a middle-aged woman who had been serving as Yeoryeong’s administrative aide, looked alarmed at the suggestion. "You want us to pretend we’re still captured? To return to those cells voluntarily?"

"Not pretend," Jinmu corrected. "You’ll appear to be held prisoner, but the guards will be my people using specialized techniques to maintain their cover. If Do Giseon sends investigators, they’ll see exactly what they expect to see—prisoners under heavy guard by professional assassins."

The beauty of the plan is that it turns Do Giseon’s own paranoia against him, he thought, imagining the First Blade’s reaction when his scouts reported that the prisoners were still secure. He’ll be so focused on maintaining control of his supposed hostages that he won’t realize they’ve already been freed and are being protected by enemies disguised as allies.

Yeoryeong was nodding slowly, her sharp intelligence already grasping the full implications of the deception. "Clever. Very clever. But your people would need to be extraordinarily skilled to maintain such an elaborate masquerade. The Night Drizzle Sect trains their operatives to notice things that most martial artists would miss."

"My people are... adaptable," Jinmu said carefully. "They’ve studied the techniques used by shadow sects and understand how to replicate their behavior patterns and operational procedures. The deception should hold for several hours, possibly longer if circumstances require it."

Which is true enough, he thought. The copies have access to all my knowledge about stealth and infiltration techniques. And with the newly acquired shadow arts from the defeated assassins, they should be able to maintain convincing disguises even under close scrutiny.

"And while we’re playing the role of prisoners," Yeoryeong said, "what will you be doing?"

Jinmu’s expression hardened behind his mask, and several of the copies adopted similar poses without conscious coordination. "Pavilion Master Hyeon Ryu is still being held somewhere in this complex, probably in conditions even worse than what you experienced. I’m going to find him and complete the rescue operation."

The weight of that statement settled over the group like a physical presence. Rescuing the Palace Master and her people had been dangerous enough, but attempting to free the poisoned and weakened Pavilion Master from whatever prison Do Giseon had prepared would be exponentially more difficult.

But I have advantages now that I didn’t have before, Jinmu reminded himself. Twenty copies with comprehensive training in both sword techniques and shadow arts, detailed knowledge of the enemy’s capabilities and tactics, and the element of surprise since they think their security is still intact.

"The timing will be critical," he continued, addressing both Yeoryeong and his copies. "The longer this deception continues, the more likely it becomes that someone will notice inconsistencies. I need to locate and rescue Hyeon Ryu before Do Giseon realizes what’s actually happening."

Ten of the copies began moving toward the fallen assassins, studying their equipment and appearance with the careful attention of actors preparing for a challenging role. "Transformation beginning," one of them reported, already beginning to adjust his posture and movement patterns to match those of the defeated Night Drizzle operatives. "Visual similarity should be sufficient to fool casual observation."

The key will be in the details, Jinmu thought, watching as his copies began the complex process of assuming new identities. Not just appearance, but behavior, speech patterns, and operational protocols. The Night Drizzle Sect has very specific ways of doing things, and any deviation from their standard procedures could expose the deception.

"What about communication?" asked another copy. "If Do Giseon or his agents try to contact the guards directly, we’ll need to respond in character."

"Keep all communication to an absolute minimum," Jinmu instructed. "The Night Drizzle Sect emphasizes operational security above almost everything else. Their guards wouldn’t engage in casual conversation under the best of circumstances. If forced to speak, keep responses brief and professional."

Palace Master Yeoryeong was helping her disciples understand their roles in the deception, explaining how to appear appropriately weakened and dejected without actually compromising their ability to defend themselves if the situation deteriorated. "This is actually not entirely different from certain advanced meditation techniques," she was saying. "The appearance of helplessness while maintaining internal readiness for immediate action."

She’s adapting to the situation faster than I expected, Jinmu observed with approval. Most people would be struggling to understand what’s happening, let alone figure out how to contribute effectively. But she’s already thinking tactically, looking for ways to make the deception more convincing while ensuring her people’s safety.

The copies had finished their preparations and were now virtually indistinguishable from the original Night Drizzle assassins, down to the subtle details of their equipment and the way they held their weapons. The transformation was so complete that even Jinmu found it slightly unsettling to look at them.

"Positions," he ordered, and the disguised copies took up guard posts around the pavilion while the Yeonhwa prisoners returned to their cells with expressions of resigned cooperation. To any casual observer, nothing had changed—the same guards watching the same prisoners in the same secure facility.

Perfect, Jinmu thought with satisfaction. Now I control this entire facility without anyone on the outside knowing it. Do Giseon’s own security measures are being used to protect the people he thinks he’s holding hostage.

"The deception is in place," reported the copy who would be coordinating the guard duty. "We’re ready to maintain the illusion for as long as necessary."

Jinmu nodded and turned toward the ten copies who would be accompanying him on the next phase of the mission. "Time to move. The tournament copy is still maintaining our presence at the arena, but that performance won’t last forever. We need to find Hyeon Ryu and extract him before the entire situation collapses."

Everything depends on the next few hours, he realized as the group prepared to leave the carved pavilion. Success means we save the Pavilion Master, expose Do Giseon’s conspiracy, and prevent whatever larger catastrophe he’s planning. Failure means...

He didn’t finish the thought. Failure simply wasn’t acceptable.

The morning sun was climbing higher as Jinmu and his ten remaining copies moved through the ancient corridors of Mount Mugang, each step bringing them closer to what would likely be the most dangerous phase of their mission. Behind them, the carved stone pavilion maintained its facade of normalcy, completely controlled by disguised copies who would protect the supposedly imprisoned Yeonhwa disciples.

Ten copies should be sufficient for a rescue operation, Jinmu thought as they navigated through passages that grew progressively older and more fortress-like. But I have a feeling we’re walking into something more complex than a simple prison break. Do Giseon wouldn’t keep the Pavilion Master in an ordinary cell. He’d want him somewhere symbolic, somewhere that demonstrates his complete control over the situation.

The answer came to him as they approached the heart of the pavilion complex, where the oldest and most secure chambers were located. Not just any prison, but the traditional meditation retreat where Pavilion Masters had withdrawn for advanced cultivation practice for centuries. The irony would appeal to someone like Do Giseon—holding his predecessor prisoner in the very place where he should have been achieving enlightenment.

"The Supreme Chamber," whispered one of the copies, recognizing the same logic. "The most secure location in the entire complex, designed to prevent interruption during the most delicate phases of cultivation breakthrough."

Which means it’s also designed to prevent escape, Jinmu realized grimly. And if Do Giseon has modified the security arrangements, we could be walking into a trap that makes the carved pavilion look like a casual stroll through a garden.

As they drew closer to their destination, sounds of conflict began echoing through the corridors ahead—not the brief, decisive combat of assassination attempts, but the prolonged clash of high-level martial artists engaged in serious battle. The sounds were coming from the direction of the Chamber of Blades, where the Twelve Blades of Mugang traditionally met for their most important deliberations.

"That’s not normal," observed another copy, his hand moving instinctively toward his weapon. "The Twelve Blades shouldn’t be fighting each other. They’re supposed to be the unified leadership of the pavilion."

Unless they’re not unified anymore, Jinmu thought, the implications sending a chill down his spine. If Do Giseon’s conspiracy extends beyond just himself and his immediate allies, if other members of the Twelve Blades are involved...

The sounds of battle grew louder as they approached, and gradually individual voices became distinguishable over the clash of steel and the crackle of ki techniques.

"You betray everything the pavilion stands for!" The voice was strong, authoritative, probably belonging to one of the senior Blades.

"We betray nothing!" came the reply, equally strong but carrying a tone of cold conviction. "We save the pavilion from weakness and stagnation!"

Civil war, Jinmu realized with growing horror. The Twelve Blades are fighting each other. Do Giseon’s conspiracy isn’t just about overthrowing the Pavilion Master—it’s about seizing control of the entire leadership structure.

They reached a vantage point where they could observe the conflict without being detected, and what Jinmu saw confirmed his worst fears. The Chamber of Blades was now the site of a vicious battle between two factions of some of the most powerful martial artists in the orthodox world.

On one side stood three figures: Hyeon Namgung the Second Blade, a tall woman with silver hair and a sword that seemed to absorb light; Jang Mudeok the Third Blade, a middle-aged man whose fists were wreathed in golden flames; and Yoo Jinhwan the Fourth Blade, a younger martial artist who moved with the fluid grace of someone trained in water-based techniques.

The loyalists, Jinmu identified, analyzing their fighting styles and the desperate edge to their movements. They’re outnumbered but still fighting. That means they either just discovered the conspiracy or they’ve been holding out against it for some time.

Opposing them were eight other figures, all of whom Jinmu recognized as members of the Twelve Blades: Ma Jinsung the Fifth Blade with his twin hook swords, Baek Sahyeon the Sixth Blade wielding a massive war hammer, Go Yunseok the Seventh Blade whose techniques created illusions that confused the eye, Dok Yeonhwa the Eighth Blade with her poison-tipped daggers, Noe Seungcheol the Ninth Blade carrying a spear that crackled with electrical energy, Byeon Muhyeok the Tenth Blade whose earth-based techniques made the floor tremble, Yeon Gapsu the Eleventh Blade with his chain whip, and finally Jegal Yuncheol the Twelfth Blade who fought with bare hands enhanced by internal energy cultivation.

Eight against three, Jinmu calculated, watching the flow of the battle. And the three loyalists are already showing signs of exhaustion. They can’t hold out much longer against those odds, no matter how skilled they are individually.

"The conspiracy runs deeper than we thought," whispered one of the copies. "Do Giseon didn’t just poison the Pavilion Master—he converted two-thirds of the senior leadership to his cause."

"Or eliminated the ones who wouldn’t convert," another copy added grimly. "We might be looking at the survivors of a purge that’s been going on for months."

Which explains how he was able to orchestrate the kidnapping of the Yeonhwa prisoners so easily, Jinmu realized. With eight of the Twelve Blades supporting him, he had access to all the pavilion’s resources and security protocols. No wonder the Night Drizzle Sect was able to operate so freely.

The battle was reaching its climax as the outnumbered loyalists were gradually overwhelmed by superior numbers and coordinated attacks. Hyeon Namgung fell first, her light-absorbing sword clattering across the marble floor as poison from Dok Yeonhwa’s daggers took effect. Jang Mudeok followed moments later, his golden flames extinguished by the combined assault of three opponents striking simultaneously.

Yoo Jinhwan, the youngest of the loyalists, made a desperate final stand with techniques that turned his body into flowing water, but even that wasn’t enough against the relentless pressure of eight Master-level opponents. He collapsed to his knees, blood streaming from multiple wounds, his water techniques failing as his ki reserves were exhausted.

They’re going to kill him, Jinmu realized, seeing the cruel satisfaction in the traitors’ faces. This isn’t just about neutralizing opposition—this is about eliminating witnesses who could expose what’s really happening.

Ma Jinsung raised his twin hook swords for the killing blow, but before he could strike, Jinmu made his decision.

"Intervention," he said quietly to his copies. "We can’t let them complete this purge. That man is the only legitimate authority left in the pavilion."

The copies nodded in unison, their hands moving to their weapons as they prepared for combat against opponents who significantly outnumbered them and possessed capabilities that were still largely unknown.

Ten copies against eight Blades, Jinmu calculated as they moved into position. Better odds than the loyalists had, but still dangerous. Each of those traitors is at least Master level, possibly higher. And they’ve been fighting together long enough to develop coordinated tactics.

The attack began with the kind of coordinated precision that only shared consciousness could provide. Ten copies materialized from shadow simultaneously, their swords moving in the flowing patterns of the Blossom Flow Requiem while their movements carried the deceptive techniques they had observed from the Night Drizzle assassins.

Ma Jinsung never saw the strike that took him down, HEART OF THE LAST BLOOM

piercing through his guard like a needle through silk. His twin hook swords fell from nerveless fingers as he collapsed beside Yoo Jinhwan he had been about to execute.

Baek Sahyeon managed to raise his war hammer in time to block the first attack, but he couldn’t block attacks coming from three different directions simultaneously. COILED VEIN RAIN from multiple copies created a storm of strikes that overwhelmed his defenses completely.

The coordination is more effective than I expected, Jinmu observed, watching as his copies flowed around the traitors’ defensive formations like water around stones. They’re skilled, but they’ve never faced opponents who can coordinate this perfectly while maintaining such aggressive pressure.

"What is this?" demanded Go Yunseok, his illusion techniques creating multiple false images of himself as he tried to confuse the attackers. "Who dares interfere in the affairs of the Twelve Blades?"

"Someone who knows the difference between legitimate authority and treasonous conspiracy," replied one of the copies, his sword cutting through the illusions to find the real target beneath.

Dok Yeonhwa attempted to use her poison techniques, flicking daggers coated with toxins that could kill a Master-level martial artist within seconds. But poison was useless against opponents who could predict where the attacks were coming from and coordinate their evasions perfectly.

They’re not fighting as individuals anymore, Jinmu realized, watching the traitors’ formation begin to collapse under the coordinated assault. The conspiracy that held them together is breaking down under pressure. Without Do Giseon here to coordinate their efforts, they’re just eight skilled martial artists trying to fight ten opponents who think with one mind.

The battle was brief but decisive. Within minutes, all eight of the traitorous Blades were either unconscious or too injured to continue fighting. The Chamber of Blades fell silent except for the labored breathing of the wounded and the soft footsteps of the copies as they secured the area.

Yoo Jinhwan, the sole survivor of the loyalist faction, looked up at his rescuers with a mixture of gratitude and bewilderment. "Who are you?" he asked weakly, trying to focus his eyes on faces that seemed strangely familiar yet impossible to distinguish clearly.

"Friends of the legitimate Pavilion Master," Jinmu replied, kneeling beside the injured Blade to assess his condition. "Can you tell us where Do Giseon is holding Hyeon Ryu?"

He’s badly injured but stable, Jinmu diagnosed, noting the precision of the wounds. The traitors were trying to disable rather than kill, probably hoping to extract information about other loyalists. That gives us an advantage—he should be coherent enough to provide intelligence.

"The Supreme Chamber," Yoo Jinhwan gasped, confirming Jinmu’s earlier guess. "But it’s heavily guarded. Not just by pavilion personnel—by Crimson Flow Blade Union martial artists. Do Giseon made a deal with them. Full alliance in exchange for legitimacy within the orthodox structure."

"How many guards?" asked one of the copies.

"At least twenty," Yoo Jinhwan replied, his voice growing weaker as blood loss took its toll. "All Expert level or higher. They’ve been preparing defenses specifically designed to counter infiltration attempts."

Twenty Expert-level guards plus whatever additional security measures Do Giseon has implemented, Jinmu calculated grimly. This won’t be like the rescue at the carved pavilion. This will be a direct assault against prepared positions held by professional fighters who know we’re coming.

"We still have to try," said another copy, expressing the determination that all of them felt. "We can’t abandon Hyeon Ryu just because the mission has become more dangerous."

True, Jinmu agreed, though his mind was already working through the tactical implications. But we need to assume that our previous tactics may not be sufficient. Twenty Expert-level opponents can’t be defeated through stealth and surprise alone. We’ll need to use every advantage we have.

"There’s something else," Yoo Jinhwan said, struggling to remain conscious long enough to deliver his message. "The tournament... it’s not just a distraction. Do Giseon is planning to use it as the trigger for something bigger. When the final matches conclude, when all the sect representatives are gathered in one place..."

His voice trailed off as unconsciousness finally claimed him, but he had said enough. Jinmu felt the pieces of the conspiracy clicking into place with horrifying clarity.

A massacre, he realized. He’s not just trying to seize control of the Mugang Martial Pavilion. He’s planning to eliminate the leadership of multiple orthodox sects simultaneously, using the tournament as cover. And we’ve been helping him by keeping the other competitors distracted while he positions his pieces.

"We need to move immediately," he said urgently to his copies. "The Supreme Chamber, maximum speed. If we can rescue Hyeon Ryu and expose the conspiracy before the tournament concludes, we might be able to prevent whatever Do Giseon has planned."

But first, we have to survive whatever defenses he’s prepared for us, he added silently, feeling the weight of twenty Crimson Flow martial artists waiting ahead. And we have to do it while knowing that our enemies understand at least some of our capabilities.

We’re walking into the heart of the storm, Jinmu thought. But we’re not walking into it unprepared, and we’re not walking into it alone. Do Giseon may think he understands what we’re capable of, but he’s about to discover that preparation and execution are two very different things.