CHAPTER 51: ISN’T ‘HERMIT’ AN ENGLISH WORD?

Sword Empress’s POV

Crash!

My sword cleaved through the wall, sending debris scattering across the floor. In that fleeting moment, I caught a glimpse of something darting out of the house.

"There you are!" I shouted.

With a swift swing, I knocked out the impostor and bolted outside, my eyes locked on the fleeing figure.

A Heavenly Rat (Tian Shu)? A black one, no less—a creature that belonged in the depths of caves, not soaring through the open air in a desperate escape.

My mind raced. Now that I think about it, back in Anhui...

I’d seen one before, hadn’t I? That time near the lake, in broad daylight, its presence had struck me as odd. I’d hurled my sword at it, but dismissed it as some quirk of nature and let it slip from my mind. Seeing another now, though, I couldn’t chalk it up to coincidence.

There had to be a connection to the Blood Cult. I didn’t know how, but I’d wager my blade on it.

Dash!

With a surge of qinggong, I leaped onto the rooftops, my feet barely touching the tiles as I pursued the Heavenly Rat. It was fast—unnaturally so for its kind—but it was still just a beast. Wings or no, it couldn’t outrun a human.

Flap! Flap!

The creature’s wings beat frantically, as if it sensed my pursuit. I narrowed the distance, my focus sharpening.

"Hup!"

Whoosh!

With a wide swing of my arm, I infused my sword with intent and launched it forward. The blade sliced through the air, alive with purpose, and—

Pierce!

"Kiik!"

It struck true, piercing one of the Heavenly Rat’s wings. The creature spiraled downward, its flight stolen.

Grab!

I caught it just before it hit the ground.

"Kiik..." it squeaked, writhing weakly in my grip.

"Now... what to do with you, little beast?" I muttered.

There had to be a reason for its presence. A creature like this didn’t just appear without purpose. But what was it?

I inspected it closely. No messages tied to its legs, no signs it was a courier. Frowning, I sifted through my knowledge, but no answers came.

Could it be a spiritual beast? One that understands human speech?

Its unnatural speed suggested as much.

"Well," I said, glancing at the limp creature, "since we’re in Anhui, the Namgung Clan isn’t far. They might unravel your secrets quickly enough."

"Piiik..." it whimpered.

I turned to head back to the impostor’s house, the Heavenly Rat still in hand, when—

Boom!

The creature dissolved into black mist, vanishing in an instant.

I froze. I hadn’t imagined it—it had truly dissipated.

"What in the..."

Shape-Shifting Teleportation (Yixing Huanwei)?

Was it a spiritual beast after all? No, even that seemed too simple. To vanish without a trace, right from my grasp, undetected by my senses—that was beyond any ordinary spiritual beast.

Am I being bewitched? A nine-tailed fox, perhaps?

But even a fox spirit would’ve left something behind—a bug, a flicker of movement. This thing had melted into mist and was gone.

"Huh..." I muttered, at a loss.

With no answers, I turned back to the house with the shattered wall, determined to make sense of the clues I had.

Crunch.

The impostor lay dead, blood pooling from every orifice. A cold corpse where a living man had been moments ago.

I’d only stepped out briefly to chase the rat. No one else had approached—there were no signs, no traces.

Of course...

The Blood Cult had always been like this. They disposed of failed subordinates in ways that defied explanation—sudden death without poison, or even explosions.

My fury toward them reignited. Since they’re in Anhui, I’ll tear this place apart until I—

A jolt of realization cut through my rage.

"Where’s the Masked Fortune Teller?!"

In my haste, I’d forgotten him. I’d told him to wait outside the house, but the chaos had consumed my focus.

I rushed outside, scanning the area. Nothing. No sign of him.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

My heart pounded. A dark thought crept in. The Blood Cult wouldn’t leave someone with me untouched.

"I have to find him," I whispered, urgency gripping me.

I scoured the ground for tracks, praying he’d simply tired of waiting and returned to the inn. But then I saw them—drag marks in the dirt, faint and quickly fading, as if the kidnappers had lifted him mid-abduction. They hadn’t fully covered their tracks, but they were still maddeningly hard to follow.

My cultivation was in the sword, not tracking. Still, I had to try.

Knowing the Blood Cult, every second counts.

The impostor had been a false Dan Yuseong. If the real one was in their hands...

Grit.

If they so much as scratched him, I’d make them pay. I’d never forgive them.

+

Protagonist’s POV

"Ugh..."

My head throbbed.

I’d been leaning against the wall, half-dozing, while Lady Shin entered the house with that man. Then—a sharp blow to the back of my skull, and darkness. Nothing else until now.

"What the hell..." I groaned.

I tried to rub my aching head, but my arms wouldn’t move.

Clank.

Chains bound me to a pillar.

It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Knocked out, waking up chained? Kidnapped. Plain and simple.

Son of a...

Was my luck really this rotten? I’d finally had a day to relax, and now, not even twenty-four hours later, I was in this mess.

Just how cursed was I?

"You’re awake," a woman’s voice cut through my thoughts.

I turned my head. She was frail, her skin pale as if she were ill, but her eyes were sharp.

"Answer my questions quietly, and we can avoid bloodshed," she said.

I’d seen this scene in stories before. The captive snaps, "You think I’ll talk?!" and the interrogator sneers, "If you want pain, so be it," leading to torture and defiance.

But that wasn’t me.

"Yes, I’ll answer everything. Ask away," I said calmly.

Her eyes widened, confusion flickering across her face. "You’re... not going to resist?"

"I don’t like pain," I replied.

"...Well, that makes things easier." She stepped closer, her composure returning. "What’s your relationship with the Sword Empress?"

I blinked. "Who’s the Sword Empress?"

"The woman you were traveling with," she said, exasperated. "You don’t know the Sword Empress?"

"I lived in the mountains," I explained.

She narrowed her eyes. "This might require some torture—"

"No, wait!" I interrupted. "I really lived in the mountains. I’ll answer anything, no torture needed!"

I wasn’t about to play the stubborn hero. Pain was the last thing I wanted.

"...Fine," she said, relenting. "Let’s move on. My master wants to know: where did you get that cloak?"

She meant the Hermit’s Mantle, no doubt.

"The Heavenly Spirits gave it to me," I said.

"...What?"

"I’m a fortune teller who can glimpse the Records of Heaven. I think it’s tied to that. One day, the Heavenly Spirits sent it to my hands."

Her confusion deepened, her brow furrowing.

Technically, I’d bought it with points, but that was close enough.

"Are you a Taoist?" she asked.

"Not a Taoist. A fortune teller."

"An unorthodox sect, then?"

"In kind terms, I follow Heaven’s will (Shun Tian). In harsh terms, I defy it (Ni Tian)—a trickster wielding sorcery."

She scratched her head, her cold facade crumbling. "...I have no idea what you’re talking about."

I was telling the truth, but it clearly wasn’t what she expected.

"Fine," she said, regaining her focus. "One more question: Do you know anything about a hermit, or the Hermit? My master mentioned something about you."

Hermit?

The word hit me like a thunderbolt. That was the name from the shop window when I’d bought this cloak—a hero who’d shone in some war.

Why’s that coming up now? Isn’t "Hermit" an English word?

I froze, my mind reeling. There was something about this world I didn’t understand. I hadn’t thought much about the shop window before—waking up in a martial world was strange enough, so a fantasy-style shop didn’t seem that odd. Besides, those items were far more useful than martial manuals or swords, which I had no use for.

But now, this "Hermit" business felt like a thread I needed to pull.