“Ah, fuck. This is fucking bullshit, seriously.”
…What?
Song Il thought he was dreaming.
Who was he? He was the Roaring Fury Swordsman, Song Il. Even now that his junior brother, the Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord, had become Sect Leader, he still treated Song Il with the utmost courtesy and respect.
And yet—what the fuck? This is fucking bullshit?
Did I hear that wrong?
The Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi, Jin Taekyung. The youngest son of the tiny Jin Family of Taiyuan.
A brat who had only just turned twenty with the change of the year.
He couldn’t believe that such a brat had said those words to him—a Great Zhongnan Sect Elder and one of the heroes of the Great Faction War.
No. He couldn’t accept it.
“What did you just say?”
Any hope that he had misheard was crushed the next moment by Jin Taekyung’s reply.
“It’s fucking bullshit. I said it’s fucking bullshit! You fucking assholes! There’s a limit to how much you can throw your weight around.”
“…”
After cursing up a storm, Jin Taekyung turned to Jin Wikyung.
“I’m sorry. I know this is something I’m supposed to put up with even if it’s fucking bullshit, but they were being so fucking shitty about it that it became twice as fucking shitty, and I couldn’t let it slide.”
“To be honest, I thought it was fucking bullshit too.”
Those words from Jin Wikyung were the finishing touch.
The disbelief in Song Il’s eyes slowly gave way to light. A blazing light.
It was an immense fury he hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“You bastards…”
Hot breath escaped between Song Il’s teeth as he lost control of himself.
“You must be desperate to die.”
Shing.
His treasured sword, which had cut down countless enemies, emerged from its scabbard. It didn’t matter whether the Jin Family of Taiyuan belonged to the orthodox faction, the unorthodox faction, or even practiced demonic, heterodox arts.
If Song Il had thought about the consequences before causing trouble, he never would have earned the title Roaring Fury Swordsman.
I’ll kill every last one of you.
Song Il truly intended to kill them. As though to prove it, powerful Sword Energy surged like waves.
He had trained in the Zhongnan Sect’s ultimate technique, the Heavenly River Thirty-Six Swords, all his life.
Although he had not achieved complete mastery, it was more than enough to turn these insolent fools into minced meat with a single sword strike.
I’ll kill you first.
He had already decided who would die first.
The Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi, Jin Taekyung. He would chew up that young brat’s tongue and swallow it.
And just as Song Il was about to shoot his Sword Energy with bloodshot eyes—
“If you kill that guy, you die too.”
At the voice that came from somewhere, Song Il’s body abruptly froze.
It wasn’t because of the meaning behind those words. He couldn’t determine where they had come from at all.
I can’t tell? Me?
That was impossible.
But the voice that followed made it clear that this situation was real.
“A man your age, picking on a child like this. Tsk, tsk.”
Front, back, above, below, left, right.
Song Il couldn’t distinguish where the voice was coming from. Its owner was nowhere and everywhere at once.
Th-this is…
At last, Song Il realized the identity of the voice, and his body trembled.
Six-Harmonies Voice Transmission!
If Sound Transmission, the art of transmitting sound through internal energy, was exclusive to Peak masters, Six-Harmonies Voice Transmission was a martial art permitted only to those who had reached the realm beyond it.
The Supreme Peak. A great realm that only a tiny fraction of the chosen few could enter.
How could someone like that…
Why? Why was such a person interfering with him?
Song Il shouted as though having a fit.
“Who are you! I am Elder Song Il of the Great Zhongnan Sect, the Roaring Fury Swordsman! Show yourself at once!”
“‘This old man’? ‘Elder’? Hahahahahaha!”
Thunderous laughter rang out from every direction. The internal energy behind it was so vast that no one dared guess at its limits.
The commoners who had never learned martial arts fell flat on their faces, crying out to the Jade Emperor, while the martial artists trembled in awe.
“Can you not hear me!”
“Ha, hahaha! Ah, I’m laughing so hard my stomach’s going to split.”
“You insolent—!”
Song Il had lost his composure to anger and fear. And in his eyes, he saw Jin Taekyung.
Unlike the people staring around in shock, Jin Taekyung alone was gazing into the empty air. There was even an enigmatic smile on his lips.
Almost as though he were mocking Song Il.
That bastard!
Ssssss!
The Sword Energy that had faltered for a moment surged again. Pointing his sword at Jin Taekyung, Song Il looked around and shouted,
“Show yourself at once! Or I’ll kill this bastard!”
The laughter that had shaken heaven and earth abruptly stopped.
“What? Kill that guy?”
“I’ll count to three.”
A triumphant smile spread across Song Il’s lips.
He didn’t know where the voice’s owner was, but the troublemaker’s weakness was Jin Taekyung. The fluster in the other man’s voice was proof.
“One!”
“Heh, look at you. You’ve grown even more venomous since I last saw you.”
Since they last met?
Song Il’s mind raced. Judging by those words, they had clearly met before, but…
Wait. Could that voice be…
Song Il flinched as he thought of someone, but quickly gritted his teeth.
That was impossible. There was no way that old monster was still alive.
As though trying to shake off his fear, he shouted even louder.
“Two!”
“Phew. Fine, I understand. I’ll come out now, so wait right there! But if you touch even a single hair on him, I’ll make you pay for it!”
Song Il’s strength left him all at once.
His gamble had worked. The unidentified Supreme Peak master wanted Jin Taekyung alive. And he was farther away than Song Il had expected.
“Fifty jang. Don’t come within fifty jang. If you come any closer, this bastard is as good as dead—”
It was at that exact moment.
“Three.”
Song Il doubted his own eyes and ears.
Barely three jang away, Jin Taekyung calmly opened his mouth again.
“I said three. You fucking old bastard. Are you deaf?”
“You bastard. Are you desperate to die?”
“Try killing me. If you can.”
“…What?”
“You know what? If you can’t kill me with one sword strike, you’re next.”
“……!”
“Let’s see who dies.”
Jin Taekyung smiled brightly and spread both arms.
“He’s coming.”
He was coming. Those two words sent a chill down Song Il’s spine.
Song Il unconsciously took a step back.
Then—
Whoosh.
A faint sound of wind pierced his ears. A presence was rapidly drawing close from behind him at an unbelievable speed.
This is…
Every hair on Song Il’s body stood on end. The instincts he had honed by crossing the threshold of death countless times whispered to him.
It’s already too late. Fall back. Now.
But—
I am the Roaring Fury Swordsman, Song Il!
Sssshhhhh!
The Heavenly River Thirty-Six Swords, which he had brought to nine-tenths mastery, erupted. Sword Energy split into twenty-four streams and shot forward.
In the slowed world, Jin Taekyung’s figure was reflected in Song Il’s wide-open eyes.
Swish, swish, swish, swish, swish!
He narrowly evaded the twenty-four blades of Sword Energy as they rushed in, covering all twenty-four directions.
The price he paid for avoiding the Roaring Fury Swordsman’s sword strike was limited to torn clothing and blood dripping here and there.
“This is impossible—!”
Song Il, still in shock, was given no chance to attack again.
Something firm and hot had seized his wrist as he tried to unleash his second form.
His hand clamped down.
“You fucking bastard… Didn’t I tell you not to touch a single hair on him?”
A low voice. Two eyes blazing so fiercely that their red seemed to burn blue.
Only then did Song Il realize.
He could no longer hear the sound of the wind.
And he had touched someone he never should have touched.
“You—you’re… How could you…”
“The Zhongnan brat has grown a lot. You can’t even recognize an adult anymore.”
The old monster who had inflicted an unforgettable humiliation on him long ago had come back to life in his memories—and was now standing before him.
Song Il let out a shrill scream.
“Fire King—!”
A terrifying smile appeared on Jeok Cheongang’s wrinkled lips.
“Yes. It’s me.”
On New Year’s Day, the Fire King descended upon the Jin Family of Taiyuan.
The Fire King, Jeok Cheongang.
The weight carried by that name pressed down upon the entire training ground.
One God, Three Saints, Ten Kings.
They were gods, stars, and kings who stood above the countless martial artists of Murim. Absolute beings who stood closest to the title of the greatest under heaven.
Jeok Cheongang was dressed in shabby clothes and had a slight frame, but the presence he gave off was that of a giant itself.
And the giant’s eyes turned toward me.
“You crazy bastard. Are you desperate to die?”
I never thought that voice could sound so welcome. I sank down on the spot.
“Whew. I almost died for real.”
“You would have if this old man hadn’t stepped in.”
“Yes, thank you. I won’t forget this kindness.”
At my soulless reply, Jeok Cheongang glared at me.
“You lost your fear in half a day. Do you want to die?”
Only half a day?
Thinking about it, I had parted with Jeok Cheongang that very morning.
The first day of the new year had been so eventful that it felt as though a month had passed.
I answered in an exhausted voice.
“If you’re going to kill me, please put it off as long as possible.”
“That is the plan.”
Jeok Cheongang turned his head and added,
“First, I’ll deal with this insolent bastard.”
Insolent bastard? How many people in the world could call the Senior Brother of the Zhongnan Sect’s Sect Leader—and an Elder at that—something like that?
“Ah, ah…”
The Roaring Fury Swordsman Song Il was trembling from head to toe.
Judging by the way Jeok Cheongang kept calling him a brat, they must have known each other in the past. Apparently, it hadn’t been a particularly warm relationship.
“It’s been a long time. So, did those broken bones heal properly?”
“H-how could you…”
“‘You’? Was that directed at me?”
The Fire King blinked as though he were looking at some fascinating creature, then gave a hollow laugh.
“You’ve grown a lot.”
Smack.
It was a sight that would have been difficult to see even if you paid for it.
Jeok Cheongang slapped the Roaring Fury Swordsman across the face with his wrinkled hand. Though his hand moved infinitely slowly, the Roaring Fury Swordsman couldn’t dare evade it even while watching it approach.
“I remember when I first saw you. You were barely twenty, a young pup.”
Smack.
“You were arrogant and rude, causing all kinds of trouble while relying on your sect’s halo. And now you’re an Elder of the Zhongnan Sect?”
Smack.
“Once, I saved you when you were about to die, and the thing you said afterward was unbelievable. Was it, ‘Why are you stealing someone else’s battle credit?’”
Smack.
“If it hadn’t been for your Master’s request, I would have broken your neck instead of your leg.”
Smack, smack, smack!
The ordinary slaps carried not a trace of internal energy, yet the half-gray-haired Roaring Fury Swordsman shrank like a beaten child.
The eyes that had shone with a powerful man’s confidence and arrogance were now buried beneath humiliation, fury, and fear.
Jeok Cheongang spat out the words with the expression of a man looking at a bug.
“You fucking moron. Did all those years go straight up your ass?”
What should I do?
I was starting to like the old man more and more.
Jin Wikyung and Hyuk Mujin were already gazing at Jeok Cheongang with eyes full of love.
“You call yourself an Elder of the Nine Sects and One Gang, yet you threaten commoners and use your power to arbitrarily order a sect to seal its gates? If your Master saw this, he would be wailing in the afterlife.”
“…”
“Who is the Sect Leader now?”
The Roaring Fury Swordsman answered in a stammering voice.
“M-my junior brother. The Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord…”
“Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord? I’ve never heard of such a title in my life. Is that why a piece of trash like you struts around calling yourself an Elder of the Zhongnan Sect?”
What audacity—to treat the Sect Leader of the Zhongnan Sect like some nobody.
It wasn’t enough that his sect had been insulted. The Roaring Fury Swordsman had suddenly been reduced to a piece of trash, and his face twisted violently.
When he silently lowered his head to hide his humiliation and anger, Jeok Cheongang widened his tiger-like eyes.
“Is your mouth just for decoration? Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“…Great Hero Jeok. I—I merely…”
“Shut your mouth!”
I made up my mind.
I was going to create a fan club.
At this very moment, the Fire King, Jeok Cheongang, was no different from an idol—the undisputed star of the Jin Family of Taiyuan.
Is this what it feels like to bathe in a hot spring of soda?
Even my white blood cells were fizzing.
It felt like chugging an ice-cold can of beer after a raid on a sweltering summer day.
A three-layer wave of refreshing exhilaration swept over my entire body.
Fire. King. Is. The. Best.
Of course, that was from the perspective of someone watching.
The Roaring Fury Swordsman had been publicly humiliated in front of countless commoners and martial artists alike. Perhaps that was why the humiliation and anger he felt in that instant overcame his fear of the Fire King.
“T-this is a matter between our sect and the Jin Family of Taiyuan.”
“What?”
“I’m saying that this is not something for Great Hero Jeok to involve himself in.”
“This old man has no business involving himself?”
Jeok Cheongang stared blankly at the Roaring Fury Swordsman, who had finished speaking in a trembling voice.
His tightly clenched fist twitched, as if he were considering where to hit him so people would say he had chosen the perfect spot.
Hit him! Please, just hit him once!
As though he had heard my encouragement, Jeok Cheongang raised his hand high.
Then, the next moment, his wrinkled finger was pointing at me.
“Do you see that bastard?”
“…?”
What the hell? Why was I suddenly involved?
Just as everyone’s faces, mine included, filled with confusion, the Fire King continued.
“I entrusted the Fire Gate Clan’s sacred treasure to that boy.”
“……!”
“……!”
Silence descended over the Grand Training Ground.
Wordless shock spread endlessly through the crowd.
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