Chapter 120

Shwick!

A sword thrust forward—slowly, but with tremendous force.

For the briefest moment, a mocking smile appeared at the corner of Pung Yang’s mouth.

I knew this was coming.

He had spent decades living in Gaoyuan, where every kind of underhanded trick ran rampant. If he had been foolish enough to fall for the same trick twice, he would have become wild-dog food long ago.

But where did that sword come from?

It wasn’t a dagger. Where had the brat hidden a longsword that size?

With that slight question in mind, Pung Yang drew up his Body-Protecting Qi.

Fssssss.

He had expected this, so his response was quick. Red qi surged up in an instant and wrapped tightly around his body.

Body-Protecting Qi was invincible armor that nothing short of powerful Sword Energy could so much as scratch. The young brat’s futile struggle was laughable.

What an annoying bastard. Just die already.

He was about to snap Jin Taekyung’s neck in a single motion when—

Thud!

“…Huh?”

A cold chill pierced his body, followed by searing pain. Pung Yang stared wide-eyed at the sword that had pierced straight through his chest.

What the hell?

His Body-Protecting Qi had vanished.

No—it had been destroyed.

Jin Taekyung’s sword sliced through it as easily as cutting tofu, then pierced Pung Yang’s chest as well.

Pung Yang looked down at the transparent blade, unstained by even a drop of blood, and muttered like he was groaning.

“Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron…?”

He had heard of it before. Stories about a divine weapon said to be capable of cutting and breaking anything in the world.

“How did you get this?”

Pung Yang glared at the sword’s owner with a twisted expression. The young brat from the Jin Family of Taiyuan blinked innocently.

“Wow. This actually worked.”

“You fucking bastard…!”

He wanted to snap the brat’s neck right away, but his vision suddenly went hazy, and the strength drained from his grip. The power that had filled his body vanished like the outgoing tide, leaving only helplessness in its wake.

The Temporary Strength Pill had to wear off now of all times.

Blood streamed from the seven openings in Pung Yang’s face as he staggered backward.

The injuries he had suffered, both great and small, combined with the dispersal of his Body-Protecting Qi. The internal energy surging backward through his body began driving him rapidly toward death.

I can’t die like this. I can’t.

Pung Yang hurriedly searched inside his robes.

He still had one Temporary Strength Pill left. If he took it, he could beat these bastards to death in a single stroke and leave this place. He had lost plenty, but he could recover and return to Murim afterward.

Yes. All he had to do was take the Temporary Strength Pill…

Clatter.

Damn it. He was in too much of a hurry.

The wooden box slipped from Pung Yang’s frantic hand, struck the ground, and sprang open. A pill tinged with a blood-red color rolled across the ground before coming to a stop beneath someone’s foot.

“Oh, so this is the Temporary Strength Pill?”

Jin Taekyung picked it up and examined it curiously. Pung Yang shouted at him.

“G-Give it to me! Hurry!”

“Here’s a question. Do you really think I’ll give it to you just because you ask?”

“You bastard!”

Pung Yang lunged forward with all his remaining strength, but his ruined body had already reached its limit. His legs gave out before he could reach Jin Taekyung, and he crumpled to the ground.

Only one path remained to Pung Yang now.

“Please. I’m begging you. Give it to me. Give it to me!”

“What if I do?”

Pung Yang cried out desperately.

“You’ll never see me again. No—I’ll swear my loyalty to you from this day forward!”

“Oh, a Peak master as my subordinate. That sounds pretty good.”

“R-Really? Then hurry and give me the Temporary Strength Pill!”

“First, I’m taking my property back.”

“Your property?”

His question was answered a moment later when Jin Taekyung approached and yanked the sword from the center of his chest.

Blood poured out like a waterfall, accompanied by dizzying pain.

“Gueeeeegh!”

Pung Yang didn’t even notice the pieces of internal organs mixed with the blood he vomited.

All he felt was his vision gradually darkening and the sounds around him receding into the distance.

He was dying, and desperation had driven him half-mad.

I want to live.

Pung Yang had spent his entire life as a ruthless marauder.

He had stolen the wealth—and sometimes the lives—of countless people, but never in his wildest dreams had he imagined meeting an end like this.

“Now… now, please give me the Temporary Strength Pill…”

Through his blurred vision, he saw Jin Taekyung shake his head. Pung Yang mumbled piteously.

“Why? Why not?”

But the answer came from somewhere else.

“What? Why?”

“That bastard deserves to be torn limb from limb!”

The surviving martial artists of the Mount Heng Sword Sect gripped their weapons, their eyes brimming with killing intent.

Lee Seowol also bit her lip and aimed her bow at Pung Yang, but Jin Taekyung hurriedly stopped her.

“Let’s hold off on the finishing blow… No, he’s too vicious to let him die comfortably. Better to leave him there and let him die slowly.”

Lee Seowol wrestled with the decision for a moment before finally lowering her bow. Jin Taekyung approached Pung Yang and whispered into his ear.

“I’m starting to get tired too. Let’s just die now.”

Pung Yang didn’t understand what he meant, but one thing was certain.

Death.

Pung Yang realized that his own death was almost upon him.

“Even if I become a vengeful ghost, I’ll have my revenge.”

“Amen. In your next life, be satisfied with Viagra.”

Pung Yang gave a hollow laugh. It was absurd that he had to listen to that bastard’s incomprehensible nonsense until the very end.

Damn it. What terrible weather.

He raised his head and looked at the sky. It was entirely red.

Then darkness swallowed it.

As Pung Yang’s head lolled to the side, celebratory fireworks burst overhead.

Ding. Ding. Ding!

System

• Defeated Lv. 85 Pung Yang!
• Successfully completed the Temporary Strength Pill Quest!
• Obtained a massive amount of EXP and Fame!
• Level Up!
• Level Up!
• …

After announcing five level-ups and an increase in Fame, the System window delivered even better news.

System

• The Quest success reward has been delivered to your Inventory!
• Full Recovery has taken effect immediately as the Quest success reward!

Full Recovery?

It said the effect would be immediate, and the change happened exactly as promised.

Cracked and broken bones knitted together. Cuts and puncture wounds healed without a trace. And the changes didn’t stop at the surface.

My Internal Injuries…

Invisible healing took place inside my body as well. I had expected all my Internal Injuries to heal, but there was an even greater benefit than I had imagined.

System

• All Internal Injuries have healed!
• Your stabilized body accepts new qi!
• The Blazing Flame Divine Pill has been fully absorbed!
• Your internal energy has risen to 45 years!
• Your internal energy has gained the Scorching Yang Qi attribute!

The Blazing Flame Divine Pill had been completely absorbed.

And my internal energy had risen dramatically.

I could feel power filling every limb and bone. The Scorching Yang Qi that had burned through my body like lava had somehow become a warm spring breeze.

I did it.

I had planned to circulate my qi and control the Scorching Yang Qi once my body recovered somewhat from the level-ups, but thanks to the System, I had handled the difficult part with ease.

Forty-five years? Just how much is that?

It was three times what I’d originally possessed—an increase of half a jiazi, a full thirty years of internal energy.

Half a jiazi.

Under normal circumstances, I would have put off taking the Blazing Flame Divine Pill. But the gamble had turned out to be a masterstroke.

I would have died if luck hadn’t been on my side, though.

Two strokes of heavenly luck.

One was the Blazing Flame Divine Pill. The other was the Unnamed Sword in my hand.

Both were loot I had obtained after defeating Jopil several months ago.

Without this, I really would’ve been screwed.

I’d thought it was merely a little sharper and harder than other swords. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined it was actually Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron—or that it had such an ability.

In that sense, seven parts luck and three parts skill didn’t suit me today. Nine parts luck and one part qi was much more appropriate.¹

Though I’m not sure this really counts as good luck.

I slowly looked around.

A graveyard of weapons stood with their hilts buried in the ground. Some people had died with their faces planted in pools of blood. Others stared wide-eyed at the sky as dawn began to break.

There were hundreds of corpses like that.

“There’s a survivor here!”

“Chunsam! Wake up!”

Amid that horrific scene, the martial artists of the Mount Heng Sword Sect moved tirelessly. As I watched them rescue the few survivors with disciplined efficiency, I was suddenly seized by an inexplicable sense of wrongness.

What is it?

It felt like I’d forgotten something important…

Just as I was frowning, one of the corpses that had been lying motionless sat up.

“Guuuuuh.”

“Oh.”

Right. Good to see you, Mukyung.

By the time the two-shichen search was over, Lee Seowol was soaked in blood.

“How many survivors?”

“Twenty-five, including you, Sect Leader.”

“How many did you say?”

“Twenty-five. Five of them probably won’t make it through today.”

Both Lee Seowol, who had asked the question, and the martial artist who answered it fell silent.

The Mount Heng Sword Sect, which had once divided Shanxi Province with the Jin Family of Taiyuan, no longer existed. All that remained were the wounded and a young Sect Leader who wasn’t even twenty years old.

If I had abandoned this place and fled, if I had accepted Pung Yang’s marriage proposal from the beginning, could I have saved them?

Regret was always futile.

But Lee Seowol had to regret.

Although few remained, she was still the Sect Leader of a sect. Only by agonizing over her mistakes and regretting them to the bone could she avoid making the same mistakes again.

That was her atonement to those who had died today and her effort on behalf of those who remained.

The Mount Heng Sword Sect will survive. If only for those who gave their lives for our sect.

Lee Seowol clenched her fist. Her fingernails, broken from drawing the bowstring, dug into her flesh. Blood seeped out, but she felt no pain.

“What about the others?”

“They’re all in the main hall. A woman from the Jin Family of Taiyuan knows a fair amount about medicine and is treating the wounded, but…”

The martial artist’s expression darkened. It was proof of just how bad the condition of some of the wounded was.

Lee Seowol asked no more questions and headed toward the main hall.

We haven’t even had time to collect ourselves, and already I’m sending them off again.

Unbearable fatigue pressed down on her entire body, but she held on through sheer willpower.

At the very least, she had to be there for their final moments.

Creeeeak.

When Lee Seowol entered the main hall, the people from the Jin Family of Taiyuan were nowhere in sight. The wounded lying on the floor immediately caught her eye.

The Tiger of Mount Heng, Cheol Mubaek, and more than a dozen martial artists noticed her and called out.

“Ah, Seowol. You’ve come?”

“You’re here, Sect Leader!”

“We greet you, Sect Leader!”

“…?”

Was it just her imagination?

For people on the verge of death, they seemed strangely full of energy. After staring at them in silence for a while, Lee Seowol realized what that energy meant.

“A final rally…”

Only then did she see the dark shadow of death hanging over their faces.

Just as she hurriedly turned away to hold back her tears—

Bang!

Lee Seowol staggered after striking her forehead against something solid. As she began to fall, a large, firm hand caught her by the shoulder.

“Oh, careful there. Are you all right?”

“Ah, yes.”

“Then we’re good.”

Jin Taekyung looked down at Lee Seowol and let out a short laugh.

Some final rally.

I barely held back a snort.

Cheol Mubaek and the other wounded were all recovering vigorously.

Of course, Jin Mukyung was no exception.

What would they have done without me?

More precisely, if not for the Quest rewards, half of them might have needed funerals.

The thirty Superior Wound Medicines and thirty Ten-Year He Shouwu I’d received as rewards were remarkably effective at treating external wounds and Internal Injuries.

I did consider saving them for an emergency…

But I wasn’t heartless enough to ignore people dying right in front of me.

Of course, the sheer quantity had played a part too.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“What?”

“If you’re not going in, I’ll go in first.”

I was about to walk past Lee Seowol, who was standing there in a daze, when I suddenly remembered what I’d forgotten.

Wait. Where did I put that?

“Ah, here it is.”

I pretended to rummage through my robes and pulled a bamboo slip from my Inventory.

“Here. It’s from my hyung… no, from the Lesser Family Head.”

Lee Seowol accepted the bamboo slip with a bewildered expression.

The instant she took it, a System notification rang out.

Ding.

System

• Invitation delivery complete.
• Quest Yesterday’s Enemy, Today’s Ally completed!

Invitation delivery.

If I had to do that twice, someone was going to die.