Jin Mukyung had learned countless martial arts over the years. They ranged from Peak-level arts that had once defined an era to Third Rate martial arts easily found even at a street stall in some backwater village.
But at this very moment, he realized something.
It’s strong. Stronger than any martial art I’ve ever learned.
Fwoooosh.
A curved saber descended with the force of a single slash cleaving something in two.
It wasn’t a Supreme Peak art like the Nangong Family’s Emperor Sword Form or Huashan’s Plum Blossom Sword Technique. This was the first move of the Three Calamities Sword Technique, Mount Tai Presses Down on the Crown—a move even a Third Rate street thug would know.
Pressing down Mount Tai. I think I know what that feels like.
The red saber qi rippling over the blade seemed capable of more than merely pressing down Mount Tai. It looked as though it could split the mountain apart.
I can’t block it.
In that split second, Jin Mukyung threw himself aside without hesitation.
Shraaaaak!
The saber qi grazed his clothes by a hair before striking the ground. The sight of the earth splitting wide open without a single boom or tremor sent a shiver through him.
“You dodged that?”
But Pung Yang was dissatisfied with the result.
That had been an all-out attack. Even after drawing out 120 percent of the Temporary Strength Pill’s effects, he hadn’t managed to leave so much as a scratch on Jin Mukyung.
The Tiger of Mount Heng could barely parry that.
Even Cheol Mubaek, a fully mature Peak master, had suffered internal injuries and been forced to retreat in exchange for blocking it. So how had a brat not even thirty years old managed this?
“So you do live up to the name Heaven Shaking Sword?”
Jin Mukyung adjusted his stance and replied flatly.
“I should at least be able to dodge that much.”
“Because you couldn’t block it, perhaps?”
A sneer appeared at the corner of Pung Yang’s mouth.
“Of course, a young master of the mighty Jin Family of Taiyuan must have been truly desperate to flee by rolling across the ground like a lazy donkey.”1
Narye tagon. It was a phrase comparing someone to a lazy donkey rolling on the ground. To martial artists from prestigious orthodox factions who valued their dignity, it was practically the ultimate humiliation.
But not to Jin Mukyung.
“Donkey or mule, I don’t care. Does dignity put food on the table?”
“What?”
“Compared to the price of my life, it was cheap. Besides…”
His face had remained impassive the entire time, but now he let out a quiet laugh.
“Why are you laughing?”
“I was just thinking—if there are people who pelt Peak masters with rocks, is rolling across the ground really such a big deal?”
Unable to make sense of the absurd joke, Pung Yang asked without thinking, “Throwing rocks at a Peak master? Are they insane?”
“When I first heard about it, I thought the same thing. But after thinking it over, I realized he was exactly the kind of bastard who would do something like that.”
“I’d like to see the face of this lunatic.”
“You’ll see him soon.”
“What does that mean?”
That was when Pung Yang felt a faint sense of puzzlement.
Shiiiiing!
A sharp aura came from behind him.
He turned around, and the face of a handsome young man was reflected in his red eyes.
The Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi.
Within the slow flow of time, Jin Taekyung grinned. The iron spear in his hands was already hurtling toward Pung Yang’s chest.
KABOOM!
One Annihilation.
A vortex erupted from the spearhead and swallowed Pung Yang whole.
I was in perfect condition. Leveling up while dealing with the small fry had completely restored my fatigue and Stamina.
The timing was pretty good, too. Pung Yang’s broad, defenseless back looked like it was begging me to stick a spear through it.
For the finishing touch to this beautiful picture, I chose One Annihilation. I had yet to see anyone take this attack and walk away unscathed.
But then…
“You should’ve picked your opponent more carefully before charging in.”
A low voice like the growl of a beast.
Pung Yang was surrounded by a curtain of qi as red as his eyes. It had completely blocked the vortex unleashed by One Annihilation, and now writhed like living armor.
What did wuxia novels call something like this again?
Oh, right. I remembered. I barely managed to move my lips.
“Body-Protecting Qi?”
“At least you’re not blind.”
“No, for fuck’s sake…”
Sword Energy and Sword Force weren’t enough, and now he had Body-Protecting Qi too?
As I stood there dumbfounded, the sight before my eyes going dark, Pung Yang curled up the corner of his mouth.
“It’s too late for regrets.”
Whoosh!
A strand of saber qi shot up from his curved saber and sliced off a clump of my hair. I had bent at the waist just in time. If I had been even slightly slower, it would have been my head that was cut off.
Fuck.
I swallowed the curse trying to burst out and flung myself away. No sooner had I done so than savage saber strikes shredded the place where I had been standing.
Shh-shh-shh-shhk!
The problem was that every strand of saber qi was unbelievably powerful. The sight of the frozen ground splitting apart like soft tofu sent a chill down my spine.
One wrong move and I’m really going to die.
Even A-rank magic armor wouldn’t have been enough here, yet I was fighting in nothing but a scrap of cloth. This was the very definition of walking on thin ice.
More than anything else…
Doesn’t that bastard ever get tired?
Maintaining Body-Protecting Qi alone had to consume a tremendous amount of internal energy, but right now, Pung Yang seemed like an inexhaustible spring.
“I heard you two were brothers, but the way you run away like rats is exactly the same.”
That was when a voice came from behind him.
“That’s not particularly pleasant to hear.”
Jin Mukyung appeared out of nowhere and scattered a flurry of sword strikes. A streak of blue light shot straight toward Pung Yang’s neck.
Clang!
But even Jin Mukyung’s Sword Energy, which seemed capable of cutting through anything, couldn’t pierce the Body-Protecting Qi. Pung Yang leisurely rubbed the spot on his neck where the Sword Energy had struck.
“A little stiff. Is that all?”
“Of course not.”
Shiiiiing!
As Jin Mukyung charged in without hesitation, the curved saber in Pung Yang’s hand moved at the same time. The aura was so powerful that I could feel the flow of the air change.
This wasn’t a fight I could interfere in.
Whoosh!
At last, the moment Jin Mukyung’s blue Sword Energy met Pung Yang’s red saber qi, a tremendous wave of force erupted along with a boom loud enough to make my ears ring.
KABOOM!
Most of the people standing firmly on both feet lost their balance and staggered.
But I widened my eyes and watched the result of this incredible clash.
Which one?
Through the dust swirling from the impact, I saw two people facing each other.
A sword and saber reduced to nothing but their hilts. Tightly pressed lips.
Pung Yang was the first to break the brief silence.
The bastard on his knees spat out dark red blood.
“Urgh—bleeeargh!”
A small cheer rose through the battlefield. Jin Mukyung stood proudly while Pung Yang knelt on the ground. The winner of this fierce battle had been decided.
We won.
I hadn’t been able to see the entire exchange, but there was no doubt that Pung Yang had suffered internal injuries first.
The proof was the distinct palm print stamped across his chest—something that hadn’t been there before. That had probably been the decisive blow.
“Cough, cough.”
Pung Yang wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and staggered to his feet.
“Striking the Ox Across the Mountain.2 Even so, I never expected my Body-Protecting Qi to break so easily… Was my enlightenment lacking?”
When Jin Mukyung gave him no answer, Pung Yang clicked his tongue.
“Damn it. Even after using the Temporary Strength Pill, I’ve ended up like this. I suppose I’ll have to hole up in some remote mountain valley and train my martial arts for a while.”
“A remote mountain valley? Training?”
Genuinely curious, I asked, “Where are you going?”
“Wait, and you’ll find out soon enough. I plan to take you brothers with me, too.”
This was pretty awkward.
Since we’d been invited to a housewarming, should I at least bring a box of tissues?
“Uh, us?”
“Yes. I need the martial arts formulas you know from the Jin Family of Taiyuan. They should be a great help in supplementing the violent qi circulation of the Crimson Blood Cultivation Technique.”
After hearing that much, the words that had been lingering on the tip of my tongue came out on their own.
“Are you, by any chance, a lunatic?”
I hadn’t checked, but everyone probably wore the same expression I did.
The battle had already clearly decided its winner, and yet—what?
“Forget training in some remote mountain valley. I’ll send you on a filial-piety tour of Mount Beimang. You can train there.”3
“Mount Beimang? You think you can send me there?”
“Even if it isn’t me personally, there are plenty of people behind you who can send you to Mount Beimang.”
I jerked my chin toward the people behind him.
The martial artists of the Mount Heng Sword Sect were already creeping closer with their weapons drawn.
The beautiful woman among them, glaring at him with especially venomous hatred, had to be the Mount Heng Sword Sect’s new Sect Leader, Lee Seowol.
This man isn’t going to die peacefully.
It was time for him to pay for the karma of his past misdeeds. I flicked my spear toward Pung Yang.
“Still going to keep spouting nonsense?”
The bastard stared at us for a moment before speaking.
“I think you’re laboring under a serious misconception.”
The laugh in his voice was impossible to hide.
“Is there anyone among you capable of defeating me?”
“What the fuck does that even—”
“If you find that hard to believe, it would be faster to ask the Heaven Shaking Sword standing before me. Well? What do you think?”
Jin Mukyung didn’t answer Pung Yang’s question.
Only then did I realize why he hadn’t said a word for some time. Why he had stood there like a stone statue without moving.
Tap.
Pung Yang’s hand touched Jin Mukyung’s chest. At what point had it happened? His unconscious body crumpled limply.
Only then did I see the five throwing knives embedded in a neat row across his upper body.
Thud.
Pung Yang’s red eyes swept across the silent crowd and curved into crescent moons.
“Well, shall we finish things up?”
The “finishing” began quickly.
It started with the more than ten throwing knives that shot from Pung Yang’s sleeve as he approached us at an easy pace.
Whoosh! Thunk-thunk-thunk!
It might have been a close-range attack, but it was a throwing-knife technique that even Jin Mukyung hadn’t been able to evade. Pung Yang’s knives pierced their targets with perfect accuracy, and screams rang out without fail.
“Urgh.”
“Guhk!”
The martial artists of the Mount Heng Sword Sect were already at the limits of their endurance, and none of them were particularly powerful. They were easy prey.
By the time I finally stepped in front of Pung Yang, more than ten of them had already lost their lives.
“Stop.”
He shook his head.
“No. That’s not how it works. Giving orders is a right reserved for the strong.”
“…I’ll kill you.”
“If you were the Heaven Shaking Sword, perhaps. But a wet-behind-the-ears fledgling like you dares?”
I fell silent at Pung Yang’s sneer. He wasn’t wrong. My decision to block his path had been equal parts courage and recklessness.
But how do I take him down?
My mind felt like it was burning itself blank. Amid all the tangled thoughts, two faces surfaced.
The first was the Head Elder. He had been the most powerful and despair-inducing opponent I had ever faced. But back then, I’d had Jin Wikyung and the martial artists of the Jin Family to help me.
What about now?
No one. There was no one.
After taking the Temporary Strength Pill, Pung Yang had to be a master comparable to, or even stronger than, the Head Elder. And the only person left to face him was me.
That naturally brought the second person to mind.
Jopil, One Question, One Kill.
Perhaps Jopil was the person who had forced me to face a genuine crisis. For the first time, I’d lost one of the subordinates I’d gained in the Murim, and I’d nearly died. Only after that had I managed to defeat the bastard.
But the Pung Yang standing before me was on an entirely different level from Jopil.
This goddamn Temporary Strength Pill…
The more I thought about it, the more curses came out. I wanted to see the face of whatever son of a bitch had made it.
“Once you’ve learned your place, curl up quietly.”
Watching Pung Yang act like the greatest master under heaven simply because he trusted that pill twisted my gut. If he’d only been around Jopil’s level, I might have found a way to deal with him…
…Wait.
A fact I’d forgotten suddenly flashed through my mind.
There had been something nasty among Jopil’s possessions. What was it again?
The Blazing Flame Divine Pill.
A peerless divine elixir that granted half a jiazi of internal energy when consumed—but also a double-edged sword that could kill its user with the fire qi it contained.4
The Blazing Flame Divine Pill. The Blazing Flame Divine Pill…
The next moment, I abruptly spoke.
“Hey.”
Pung Yang, who had already walked past me, stopped and turned around.
“Hey? Were you talking to me?”
“Yeah, you pill-popping bastard.”
“Hah. What did this little brat just say…?”
“Did you enjoy being the only one popping pills?”
“…What?”
I looked straight at his face, mottled with bewilderment and fury, and enunciated each word.
“I asked if you enjoyed taking pills all by yourself.”
An eye for an eye. Doping for doping.
Now I was going to pop a pill and fight, too.
You bastard.
Footnotes
-
Narye tagon literally compares someone to a lazy donkey rolling on the ground. For martial artists from prestigious orthodox factions, it implies humiliatingly abandoning dignity to survive. ↩
-
A martial-arts term describing force that passes through one object to strike another behind it. ↩
-
Mount Beimang is traditionally associated with burial grounds and the dead; sending someone there is a euphemism for killing them. ↩
-
A jiazi is a sixty-year cycle; half a jiazi is thirty years. ↩
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