Crash!
Baek Museong’s body shot upward as though it had been bounced into the air.
The chair he had been sitting in moments ago clattered loudly across the ground, but he paid it no attention. Neither did anyone else present.
“What in the…”
“What happened?”
“W-What just happened?”
They had thought it was over. Jin Taekyung had displayed far greater skill than expected, but in the end, he had lost his weapon to Chulwoo’s Fist Energy.
A spearman without a spear against a Peak fist fighter. The outcome was obvious.
No—it had seemed obvious.
Until a moment ago.
“How did that happen?”
“I…”
At Lee Seowol’s question, Baek Museong’s lips twitched. It was still difficult to believe, but for an instant, he had lost sight of Jin Taekyung’s movements.
All he had seen was a pale blur.
I feel as though I’ve been bewitched by a ghost.
Something impossible had happened.
After remaining silent for a moment, Baek Museong opened his mouth. His voice came out tinged with embarrassment.
“I don’t know.”
Another wave of shock rippled through the crowd. Eunhyang, who had observed Baek Museong more closely than anyone else, widened her eyes.
“Big Brother—no, Senior Brother.”
“It’s true. Don’t say a word.”
He had entered Huashan at the age of five, become the Disciple of the Heavenly Sword True Person, and earned the reputation of being Huashan’s greatest prodigy.
Though only thirty, his standing was already equal to that of the Elders, if not greater.
Huashan’s greatest prodigy… Even a passing dog would laugh.
With a bitter smile, Baek Museong turned his head. A brightly smiling figure entered his view.
Ten years ago, a single meeting with Cheongpung had taught him the truth.
Baek Museong was not Huashan’s greatest prodigy.
“Martial Uncle Cheongpung.”
“Go ahead, Martial Nephew.”
Cheongpung answered without turning his head. His eyes remained fixed on the Grand Training Ground, gleaming with interest.
“Please tell me. How did he move?”
Under everyone’s expectant gaze, Cheongpung opened his mouth.
“He was fast.”
Everyone promptly deflated. Fast? That was not the simple, obvious answer they had wanted.
Baek Museong spoke in an anxious voice.
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I know. But that’s all there is to it.”
“…What do you mean?”
“My Benefactor has learned only one footwork technique and one spear technique. They’re rough but practical martial arts. Neither could be called a divine art.”
Cheongpung smiled brightly.
“He was simply fast. Much faster than Martial Nephew Chulwoo.”
Baek Museong was left speechless.
Jin Taekyung had learned no supreme martial art and possessed no peerless internal energy. To Baek Museong, he had been nothing more than a young prodigy from a frontier martial family with exceptional martial talent.
How can such a thing be possible?
The human body had limits. Murim martial artists were special because martial arts and internal energy allowed them to surpass those limits.
Yet Cheongpung was saying that Jin Taekyung had surpassed those limits without any particularly extraordinary martial arts.
Baek Museong blurted out a vehement denial.
“Impossible.”
Cheongpung shook his head.
“It’s possible for my Benefactor.”
“…!”
“He read the pattern of Crouching Tiger Fist and counterattacked after only two days. If Martial Nephew Chulwoo had known that, he would have tried something else.”
“Crouching Tiger Fist—in two days?”
Crouching Tiger Fist was unquestionably an advanced martial art. True to its name, it was fierce enough to subdue a tiger, and its forms were exceptionally intricate.
Even Huashan Disciples whose talent had already been recognized needed a full year merely to learn its structure and forms.
Yet Jin Taekyung had done it in only two days.
My second junior brother was bound to lose.
Baek Museong’s eyelids trembled faintly.
He thought he finally understood why the young Martial Uncle before him wished to remain at Jin Taekyung’s side.
There was another monster.
Jin Taekyung, the Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi.
He was exactly what the name implied. Though he remained hidden in the shadows of the frontier for now, it would not be long before he spread his wings and soared into the open sky.
I was far too arrogant.
Baek Museong clenched his fists. His nails dug into his skin, but the shame hurt more than the pain.
Had he become drunk on the name of Huashan?
Before the duel had even begun, he had already decided who would win and who would lose.
I’m always telling my junior disciples to be humble, yet I failed to practice it myself.
It had been a day that gave him much to reflect upon.
Baek Museong let out a quiet sigh and offered Jin Wikyung a clasped-fist salute.
“Great Hero Jin, I apologize for my earlier rudeness.”
“Ah, no.”
Jin Wikyung’s expression was stiff as he accepted the apology.
As far as Baek Museong knew, Jin Wikyung treasured his two younger brothers like precious jewels. Baek Museong had belittled Jin Taekyung right in front of him, so naturally he would be angry.
Baek Museong continued politely.
“My Junior Brother and I have both learned a great deal. The winner appears to have been decided, so I believe we may end the duel here.”
“That would be best.”
Jin Wikyung nodded gravely and rose from his seat.
A murmur too quiet for anyone to hear slipped between his lips.
“…Wow. He actually did it.”
Jin Wikyung had never expected him to really win.
The Grand Training Ground was as quiet as though everyone had been drenched in cold water. The commoners and martial artists alike wore expressions as if they had seen a ghost.
Though I couldn’t see his face, Chulwoo was probably wearing a similar expression. The guy who had been frozen like a statue asked in a trembling voice,
“H-How?”
“By being good.”
“C-Could that have been Shifting Form and Position?”
“Your hyung’s1 pretty fast, you know. Surprised?”
“You dodged Crouching Tiger Fist that easily…”
“You were much slower than your Martial Uncle. You’d better train hard when you get back.”
It was true. Compared to Cheongpung’s Crouching Tiger Fist, Chulwoo’s was far slower, and his movements were much broader.
I could see the entire pattern. There was no reason I couldn’t evade it—especially with an Agility stat that had broken through 300.
“Destructive power only matters if your movements are fast and precise enough to hit your opponent. Got it?”
“…How dare you lecture me?”
“How dare I? Lecture you? You still haven’t figured out what’s going on?”
I snorted quietly and poked the back of Chulwoo’s neck with the steel flute.
Its sharp edge dug into his skin, and his massive body shuddered. Oh, this was fun.
“Rest easy! Huashan’s Serial Confession Man has been dealt with by the Taiyuan Jin Family’s Steel Flute Murderer!”
“You bastard!”
“Ah-ah, don’t move. I’d rather not draw blood.”
“You’re dead the moment you come down.”
“Maybe. But the duel seems to be over, so try again next time.”
Just then, I spotted Jin Wikyung rising from his seat.
Chulwoo would never surrender of his own accord, so it seemed Jin Wikyung intended to end the duel here.
His voice, reinforced with internal energy, rang throughout the Grand Training Ground.
“You both fought well!”
“Waaaaah!”
The crowd finally came to its senses and answered with a deafening cheer.
They had witnessed a duel between Peak masters with their own eyes—something difficult to see even if you were willing to pay for it. Their reaction was understandable.
“All right, that’s enough. Good work.”
The Quest had been much easier than expected.
The moment I pulled the steel flute away from Chulwoo’s neck with a cheerful smile—
Grab!
A hand as large as a pot lid clamped around my wrist.
“Huh?”
“It isn’t over yet!”
For a moment, I had forgotten what kind of man Chulwoo was.
A man blinded by love. A man who had spent twenty-five years dead inside until his heart finally began to beat. A man who could neither live nor die without Lee Seowol’s permission…
In short, a madman. “Fucking bastard” was a close synonym.
There’s no way a guy like that would give up so easily.
Whatever else could be said about him, he had been born with one extraordinary gift: divine strength. Even Cheongpung had to concede that much to him.
Chulwoo spoke with absolute confidence.
“Once I get my hands on someone, it’s over.”
Sure, I’d let my guard down, but weren’t this bastard’s manners absolute shit?
Ah, a man blinded by love.
I let out a heavy sigh.
“Chul-thetic, Pawoo.”2
“Are those your last words?”
“No. Words of wisdom.”
“You spout nonsense whenever you get the chance. Give up on Young Lady Lee, and I’ll let you off here.”
“Did I ever tell you?”
“What?”
“Young Lady Lee proposed to me.”
“You goddamn soooooon of a—!”
A scream erupted from the crowd.
Veins bulged across Chulwoo’s entire body as he tried to slam me into the ground with tremendous force.
Tried to.
“What are you doing?”
“Hnnnnngh!”
His flushed face turned pale, then purple.
An immense force dragged at my wrist, but I didn’t budge an inch.
“Oh, you’re pretty strong.”
Between the temporary boost from the Gambler Title and the points I had just allocated, the strength now coursing through my body far surpassed human limits.
Not even Chulwoo, with his enormous frame and innate divine strength, could overpower me.
“At this level, your Strength stat must be well over 200.”
“W-What is this?”
“Bastard.”
My grinning face was reflected in his horrified eyes.
“Your hyung’s1 Strength alone is over 300. I was stronger than you even before I allocated those points.”
Fist Energy? It meant nothing if it couldn’t hit me. Strength, speed—I surpassed him in every respect. Even if we had kept fighting as we were, I would have won in the end.
Even so, there was a simple reason I had bothered allocating the points.
“Guys like you need a proper beating, or you’ll just start acting up again.”
“You son of a—!”
Thwack!
My fist shot out like lightning and struck him squarely in the temple. The muscular giant staggered, then collapsed limply.
Boom!
At the same moment, the sound I had been waiting for rang out.
Ding.
System
The Quest There Is a Man Who Loved You So Much has been successfully completed!
You received a large amount of EXP as a Reward!
You received a large amount of Fame as a Reward!
Level Up!
Level Up!
“Buuurp. Thanks for the meal.”
After a brief silence, thunderous cheers engulfed the Grand Training Ground.
At the main gate of the Jin Family of Taiyuan, some six hundred meters3 from the Grand Training Ground, a low-ranking martial artist who had been listening with perked ears to the resounding cheers made a fuss.
“Did you hear that?”
Someone leaning crookedly against the gate answered.
“I did.”
“They say the Third Young Master defeated the Defeated Flower Fist!”
“Yeah.”
“…Why are you reacting like that? We’re talking about the Defeated Flower Fist, one of Huashan’s Three Plum Blossom Elites!”
“I know, you idiot.”
“The Third Young Master defeated the Defeated Flower Fist! Captain, aren’t you surprised?”
“No. It doesn’t surprise me anymore.”
Hyuk Mujin, Captain of the Gatekeepers of the Jin Family of Taiyuan, yawned widely and continued.
“I’ve followed that fellow around and seen all kinds of things. Defeating the Defeated Flower Fist is the least he’d have to do before I could call him my lord.”
“Gasp! You’ve already thrown your lot in with him?”
“What do you mean, thrown my lot in?”
Hyuk Mujin snorted.
“One day, my lord said to me, ‘Listen, Martial Artist Hyuk. Become my right hand. Without you…’”
The low-ranking martial artist cut in with a dubious look.
“Wait a second. Are we talking about the Third Young Master? That doesn’t sound like him at all.”
“Did you just interrupt me?”
“Captain, that’s not what I meant.”
“Why, you little—are you close to him? Do you know him better than I do?”
“No.”
“Listen here, kid. I’ve crossed the boundary between life and death with him! I’ve eaten with him! We’ve done everything together!”
“…Yes. Please continue.”
“You should’ve said that from the start. Anyway, back then, my lord…”
Hyuk Mujin had just calmed down and was about to continue when a voice interrupted him.
“This is excessively noisy for a gathering.”
“What would the likes of them know? It seems they were in such high spirits that they let every Tom, Dick, and Harry inside.”
“Tsk, tsk.”
The voices drifted from beyond the faint darkness that had settled over the area.
Hyuk Mujin clicked his tongue and asked the low-ranking martial artist,
“Weren’t all the distinguished guests on the list already here?”
“Well, everyone who said they would visit today has arrived, at least.”
“Then who’s this? Someone who heard the rumors and came over?”
“Wouldn’t that be likely?”
“First, double-check the list and stay here.”
“Yes, sir.”
Grumbling inwardly, Hyuk Mujin straightened from where he had been leaning against the gate.
Then he shouted toward the four silhouettes drawing closer.
“Halt! I am Hyuk Mujin, Captain of the Gatekeepers of the Jin Family of Taiyuan. State your identity and purpose!”
An elderly voice answered.
“Roaring Fury Swordsman.”
“Roaring Fury Swordsman, is it? What sect?”
“Zhongnan Sect.”
“Zhongnan Sect, then. I need to check the others’ faces as well, so come closer… Oh.”
Hyuk Mujin froze midway through scrawling Zhongnan Sect on the wooden tablet.
He slowly raised his head and saw a gaunt old man accompanied by three middle-aged martial artists with arrogant expressions.
“Z-Zhongnan Sect?”
The old man at the front stared at Hyuk Mujin with blazing eyes.
“Jin Taekyung and Cheongpung. Take me to those two bastards at once.”
Comments
Comments need a network connection.