Chapter 116

The moment Jin Mukyung’s Sword Energy split Pung Yang’s back, I thought,

We’ve won.

It was hard to predict the outcome of a life-and-death duel between Peak masters.

But even I, someone who had yet to reach the Peak realm, could clearly see the gap between Jin Mukyung and Pung Yang.

Is Jin Mukyung really that strong, or was Pung Yang weaker than I thought?

Had he exhausted all his strength in his earlier fight with Cheol Mubaek, the Tiger of Mount Heng?

What mattered was that Jin Mukyung held an overwhelming advantage.

Slice! Shraaak!

“Gaaaaah!”

Pung Yang retreated, using his subordinates as shields, while Jin Mukyung relentlessly cut his way after him. The Red Wind Band’s mounted bandits scattered in every direction to avoid the blue Sword Energy, leaving Pung Yang exposed and alone.

It’s over.

I was clenching my fist in triumph when I noticed the red pill in his hand.

Wait. A red pill?

It was the very thing Cheol Mubaek had mentioned. Warning bells rang in my head just as Pung Yang tossed the pill into his mouth.

Jin Mukyung didn’t miss the opening. His blue Sword Energy plunged toward the crown of Pung Yang’s head.

Shiiiiing! Slice!

Blood sprayed through the air, and a shoulder was deeply cut.

But the person staggering backward was none other than Jin Mukyung.

I blinked.

What the hell just…

What had happened?

The System answered my question.

System

A sudden Quest has been generated.

Quest

Temporary Strength Pill

Red Wind Band Leader Pung Yang has taken a Temporary Strength Pill (暫力丹) and is currently empowered by abnormal strength. Defeat him and save the Mount Heng Sword Sect.

The Quest will fail if Lee Seowol dies!

Grade: Supreme Peak

Restriction: Jin Taekyung

Task: Stop or defeat Lv.??? Pung Yang (Incomplete)

Reward: ???

Failure: ???

A Supreme Peak-grade Quest, no less.

I quickly skimmed the details and understood why that bastard had grown so strong.

“Temporary Strength Pill? Don’t tell me…”

I gaped at Pung Yang.

He looked completely different from before. His eyes had turned completely bloodred. Veins bulged beneath the skin exposed below his sleeves, and his muscles looked ready to burst. On top of that, the sheer force radiating from him made it frightening to even approach.

There’s no mistaking it.

No, fuck…

A fucking Peak master, cheating by doping?

“Heh-heh-heh.”

Pung Yang let out a low laugh.

Power and vitality surged through his entire body. His head burned hotter than ever, and everything in sight seemed weak and insignificant.

The internal energy boiling in his dantian only added to the sensation.

So this is the power of the Temporary Strength Pill.

It was an unknown red pill capable of drawing out twice the strength a person currently possessed—no, even more than that—for a limited time. Pung Yang himself didn’t know who had made it or how.

It was, quite literally, a fortuitous encounter bestowed by the heavens.

The Crimson Blood Twelve Swords. The Crimson Blood Cultivation Technique. And a wooden case containing five Temporary Strength Pills.

There were countless tombs hidden across the vast Gaoyuan. In one of them, Pung Yang had discovered a Peak-level martial arts manual and the Temporary Strength Pills, all left behind by some unknown person. The moment he found them, he knew he had stumbled upon a fortuitous encounter.

He also knew such treasures could not be shared with anyone.

Even if I went back to that time ten times, I would have made the same choice.

After killing his subordinates and claiming the fortuitous encounter for himself, Pung Yang began training in a hidden refuge no one ever visited. In only two years, he reached the Peak realm.

The absurd speed of his growth and the killing intent that surged from him at unpredictable moments made him realize he had learned demonic, heterodox arts.

But he didn’t care.

This is the Murim!

In a world where strength was the law, arguing over whether something was orthodox, heterodox, or demonic was laughable. After returning to Gaoyuan, Pung Yang quickly began to distinguish himself.

His intelligence was far beyond that of the other mounted bandits, and his martial arts were exceptional.

By using violence and rewards in just the right measure, he quickly bent his subordinates to his will. Of course, he had faced crises as well.

But Pung Yang possessed a wondrous treasure he had never shown anyone.

That was when I first learned what the Temporary Strength Pill could do.

One against a hundred? It went far beyond that.

After taking a Temporary Strength Pill, he became an invincible master whom no one in Gaoyuan could withstand.

Two major mounted-bandit groups that had tried to eliminate their new rival were wiped out overnight. It was only natural that Pung Yang’s Red Wind Band took their place.

But that was as far as I could go.

Demonic, heterodox arts could be learned quickly through shortcuts, but they lacked depth. Just as Pung Yang was trying to make up for that weakness with orthodox martial arts, two places caught his eye: the Jin Family of Taiyuan and the Mount Heng Sword Sect.

A battle between a dragon and a tiger.

Pung Yang didn’t care which one fell.

At first, Lee Cheonbaek had hired him with the martial arts of the Jin Family of Taiyuan promised as payment…

But things had gone awry and led him here.

I should have used a Temporary Strength Pill when I first attacked the Mount Heng Sword Sect.

He could attack the Mount Heng Sword Sect again and force it to submit whenever he wanted.

But he could never obtain another Temporary Strength Pill.

If he had taken one back then, he might already have become the master of the Mount Heng Sword Sect.

“Well, this isn’t so bad either. Now I’ll obtain the martial arts of both the Jin Family of Taiyuan and the Mount Heng Sword Sect.”

Jin Mukyung pressed an acupoint on his shoulder to staunch the bleeding, then spoke.

“Was that your goal from the beginning? I thought some mounted-bandit bastard was desperate to play at being a Great Hero of the orthodox faction.”

“A Great Hero? If I kill the Heaven Shaking Sword and the Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi today, I might at least become a demon lord. Wahaha!”

“You? A demon lord? Don’t make me laugh. And you don’t have to worry about that happening.”

“I broke all four of Cheol Mubaek’s limbs. The way you talk is beyond saving, so I’ll have to cut off two of yours.”

“Oh, really? My younger brother says this a lot…”

Jin Mukyung spat out a wad of phlegm.

“Go fuck yourself.”

Whoosh!

The blue-steel sword looked pathetic with its badly chipped edge, but the moment blue Sword Energy coated it, it transformed into the finest sword under heaven.

Shraaaaak! Shishishiiing!

Sword Energy rained down, slicing through everything around them. Horrible screams erupted from all directions, but Jin Mukyung did not stop swinging.

They were only the screams of mounted bandits who had failed to evade the attacks and gotten caught in them. The man whose voice Jin Mukyung wanted to hear was effortlessly avoiding his sword.

“As expected of the Heaven Shaking Sword. The edge of your sword is fairly sharp.”

Jin Mukyung slashed toward Pung Yang’s waist with lightning speed.

Clang!

Jin Mukyung’s Sword Energy-wreathed blade collided with Pung Yang’s curved saber, unleashing a thunderous boom.

“It’s disgusting hearing that from someone who got stronger through dark arts.”

“What matters is that I got stronger. How many moves do you think that supposedly incredible Tiger of Mount Heng lasted against me?”

“Don’t know.”

Whoosh!

This time, the attack came for his face. The barrage of strikes that had poured toward his arms, chest, stomach, side, and legs suddenly shot straight upward.

Pung Yang hurriedly pulled his head back. The blade skimmed past his cheek by the narrowest margin.

Sizzle.

But he couldn’t avoid even the sharp pressure of the wind. Blood dripped from the cheek the wind had raked.

Pung Yang retreated without a word, checked the wound, and ground his teeth.

“…You little brat.”

Jin Mukyung spoke calmly despite the killing intent in Pung Yang’s voice.

“So?”

“What?”

“So how many moves did Sir Cheol last against you?”

Pung Yang glared at Jin Mukyung before answering.

“A hundred moves.”

“What about me?”

“Two hundred moves. I’ll finish you before then.”

“Are you even capable of that?”

“Before cutting off your limbs, I should pull out your tongue first. Listening to you has been pissing me off for a while now.”

“Be grateful you didn’t have to fight my younger brother. If he were your opponent, you’d have already plugged your ears and killed yourself. He’s mastered the art of making fun of people.”

“The Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi? Then I suppose I should pull his tongue out too.”

“…That actually sounds kind of appealing.”

“Enough nonsense. Raise your sword. That way, you can struggle for even a moment longer before you die.”

The instant Pung Yang’s red eyes gleamed eerily, immense internal energy surged from his lowered saber.

Fwoooosh!

When internal energy was infused into a medium and given tangible form, it was called Sword Energy.

But after taking the Temporary Strength Pill, Pung Yang had now surpassed that realm.

“Sword Force…”

A Supreme Peak master.

It was the symbol of those known as Martial Gods.

Though his enlightenment was insufficient for it to be called true Sword Force, there was no doubt that he had reached the very pinnacle of the Peak realm.

“Well, damn.”

Jin Mukyung let out a hollow laugh.

How many years would Pung Yang have needed to reach that realm through training alone? Ten? Twenty?

But one tiny red pill had allowed him to leap over all those years—the contemplation of martial principles, the endless training, the blood and sweat.

It had let him surpass all of it.

“What kind of son of a bitch made something like that…”

Tsssss.

Sword Energy rose from Jin Mukyung’s sword as well. Pung Yang spoke with open contempt.

“Last two hundred moves, and I’ll let you live.”

“Yeah, go fuck yourself.”

Fwoooosh!

As he watched the Sword Force plunge down as though to split heaven and earth, Jin Mukyung suddenly thought he was beginning to resemble his insolent youngest brother.

But what is that guy doing, taking so long to get here?

KABOOOOM!

Rumble, rumble, rumble.

The ground shook as though an earthquake had struck.

I had no idea what kind of battle was taking place thirty jang away, but I knew one thing.

I can’t go over there.

I wasn’t joking. If I got caught up in that fight, I’d probably die.

I had no desire to personally experience what happened when a First Rate got its back broken between Peak masters. And more importantly…

Whoosh! Slice!

“Gueeegh.”

I had more than enough on my hands here.

At this point, I might not be able to take on a hundred men, but I had to be good for at least seventy.

I swung my weapon like a madman, drenched in the blood pouring down around me.

Shwaaak!

I caught the cavalry spear thrusting toward my side and pulled it toward me. I drove it into the stomach of the man bringing his saber down behind me, then chopped through the shaft with the edge of my hand.

Crack!

“Gasp!”

“Use an iron spear next time. Something heavy and sturdy. You could even do squats with it. How great is that?”

With that friendly advice, I smashed my fist into the mounted bandit’s jaw. His body went limp as his jawbone shattered.

Shraaaaak!

Throat, side, leg.

I could read the daggers thrusting toward me from three directions without even looking.

How could every last one of them be so slow and predictable?

I was also genuinely amazed by myself. In that brief moment, I could think of a response and put it into action.

Tap. Crack!

I put my weapon into my Inventory, freeing my hands. As I simultaneously caught the wrists of the men stabbing toward my throat and side and broke them, I kicked backward with my leg fully extended.

Their short screams and the dull impact told me I had struck exactly where I intended.

More. More. More.

My hands moved faster and faster, while the sounds around me grew more distant.

Every time I brushed against the bodies of the enemies surrounding me, weapons summoned from my Inventory appeared and vanished.

Stab. Slash. Swing.

Broke.

How many had I brought down?

At some point, the noise that had been pushed far away came rushing back all at once.

Thud.

“Ggh…”

“Urgh.”

The dead lay motionless with their faces buried in the cold dirt. The survivors rolled around, groaning. The twenty or so mounted bandits who had escaped death and injury backed away from me.

“T-the Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi…”

One step. Two steps.

Terrified, they retreated as I advanced, forgetting that furious enemies were still behind them.

Shraaaaak! Thud!

“Kill them! Kill every last mounted bandit!”

“You fucking bastards!”

They were the martial artists of the Mount Heng Sword Sect who had survived and fought to the bitter end.

Caught by the surprise attack of those bloodshot-eyed men, the mounted bandits fell like dominoes.

“Kyaaaagh!”

“P-please, spare me…!”

Everywhere I looked, the ground overflowed with corpses, blood, and groans.

How many mounted bandits had died here today? Two hundred? Three hundred?

I didn’t know.

What I did know was that this battle would not end until one man died.

Pung Yang.

It was time to deal with that cheating, pill-popping bastard.

“…”

I can do this, right? I should be able to. Probably…