Chapter 258

I saw red.

“Where the hell are you going, you son of a bitch!”

If this had happened before, my first thought would have been, Why is he suddenly leaving? Maybe I would even have breathed an inward sigh of relief at escaping the crisis.

But not now.

This bastard beats the hell out of me and then runs?

Unlike me, who was still at the Peak realm, Jongni Chu was unquestionably a Supreme Peak master. I could admit that he was several levels above me.

But to leave before the duel had even been decided?

I gritted my teeth. Ignoring the Internal Injury needling my insides, I focused all my internal energy into my lower body.

“Stop right there.”

Crack! Boom!

I launched myself into the air with a thunderous blast. Cold wind slapped my face, and Jongni Chu’s foot appeared right in front of me.

He was close enough to touch if I simply reached out. One certainty flashed through my mind.

Got you.

Whoosh!

But the spearhead I thrust out with a triumphant smile sliced uselessly through empty air.

I blinked, unable to understand what had happened.

How?

Even with my seventh-tier grades¹, I knew the law of universal gravitation. Jongni Chu’s body had already reached its highest point and was falling, while I was still rising with the momentum of my leap.

He had definitely been close enough for me to grab his ankle with my bare hand.

But in my certainty, I had overlooked one crucial fact.

Martial artists—Supreme Peak masters in particular—were beings who shattered common sense.

“What the hell…”

The curse slipped through my parted lips. The sight unfolding before me was that shocking.

Papapapat!

He was stepping on the air.

There were no walls. No branches. Nothing at all.

As though invisible stairs had appeared beneath his feet, Jongni Chu climbed through empty air, soaring higher and higher.

Stepping on Empty Air…

What kind of bullshit was this? How was I supposed to catch him?

Cursing inwardly as I fell, I saw the confused crowd below.

Among them stood a tiny old man, his eyes gleaming coldly.

“You bastard! How dare you run!”

The Fire King, Jeok Cheongang.

His roar shook the heavens as a streak of red light shot from his wrinkled hand. A sword imbued with Extreme Yang internal energy crossed dozens of zhang² in an instant and struck its target.

Rumble-rumble-boom!

The air trembled, and a flash of light burst in midair, stabbing at my retinas. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Jongni Chu plummeting.

No. I had to correct myself.

That isn’t a fall.

Unfortunately, unlike my previous prediction, I was right this time.

Jeok Cheongang’s low groan was the proof, and Jongni Chu’s body shooting away like an arrow was the result.

He blocked it.

Jongni Chu had not only blocked Jeok Cheongang’s sword. He had used the tremendous internal energy behind it as propulsion, accelerating in the direction he wanted.

It was an astonishingly clever and efficient choice—one that was difficult to believe he had made in that split second.

Screeeeeech!

Now there was no one who could stop Jongni Chu as he shot through the sky like a meteor from that dizzying height.

Tap.

The instant I landed on the devastated dueling platform after experiencing the law of gravity firsthand, Jeok Cheongang’s furious voice rang out.

“What are you doing? Chase that bastard immediately!”

Everything had happened without warning. Only Jeok Cheongang’s shout jolted the leaders in the seats of honor into action.

“Capture Jongni Chu, the Always-Victorious Sword!”

“Seize the Demonic Cult spy plotting some vile scheme! Whoever captures him, dead or alive, will receive a great reward!”

The Nine Sects and One Gang. The Five Great Families. Even influential sects that wielded considerable power in their respective provinces.

Everyone gathered here was a key figure who moved the Murim.

Naturally, their attendants were renowned Peak masters in their own right.

“Yes, sir!”

Hundreds of martial artists scattered in every direction. At their head were Jeok Cheongang, the Thunderbolt Saber King, several other leaders, and me.

Screeeeeech!

We raced ahead of everyone else. I could not keep pace with Jeok Cheongang, who had mastered the Fire Gate Clan’s signature movement technique, Flamefire Path, to the ninth stage, but I was fast enough to keep his back in sight.

When you don’t have teeth, you make do with your gums.

My movement technique was still at a low stage, and my martial arts had yet to break past the uppermost reaches of the Peak realm. But my physical abilities had already surpassed their limits, making such speed possible.

“How’s your Internal Injury?”

“I can manage.”

I nodded in response to Jeok Cheongang’s voice through the fierce wind.

At that moment—

Ding.

System

• Under the rules, ???, who left the dueling platform first, has been declared the loser by ring-out!

• Quest, Star-Array Grand Banquet, completed successfully!

• Great Achievement, Star-Array Grand Banquet Victory, achieved!

• Rewards will be distributed according to the participants’ caliber and the difficulty of the competition!

• You have obtained a vast amount of EXP and Fame, as well as additional Points!

• Level up!

• Level up!

• Level up!

.

.

.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

As System notifications relentlessly rang in my ears, the changes began.

Vitality flooded my exhausted body, and the Internal Injury that had been stabbing at my insides vanished without a trace. The fire dragon in my dantian, drained by our all-out exchange, stirred and surged through my limbs and every corner of my body.

I never expected to win the Star-Array Grand Banquet like this.

But I had no time to check the System messages.

Finding Jongni Chu, who had vanished ahead of us, came first.

“Damn it. Whoever that bastard is, he’s fast as hell.”

Just as Myriad-Mile Pursuit—the Beggars’ Sect Leader and a master of qinggong³—had said, Jongni Chu was unimaginably fast.

He had long since disappeared from everyone’s sight. Jeok Cheongang quickly issued orders.

“We’ll lose him at this rate. The Beggars’ Sect will take the west. The Kunlun Sect and the rest of you cover the gaps.”

“Yes, Great Hero Jeok.”

“Understood.”

Papapat!

The Sect Leaders of the Beggars’ Sect and Kunlun Sect—two sects renowned for their movement techniques—vanished with their disciples in tow. Jeok Cheongang turned to the Thunderbolt Saber King.

“You take the east.”

“Then what about this direction?”

“I’ll handle it.”

The Thunderbolt Saber King’s expression was grim.

“Be careful. That bastard calling himself the Always-Victorious Sword… He’ll be difficult to handle alone.”

Difficult to handle?

Those words had come from the Thunderbolt Saber King, a man whose pride was second to none.

In other words, Jongni Chu was comparable to the Ten Kings—or perhaps even stronger.

Jongni Chu was that powerful?

How had someone so young reached such a realm?

He was a monster among monsters. As I swallowed my surprise, Jeok Cheongang snorted.

“That only applies to weaklings like you. Don’t lump this old man in with the rest of you.”

He said it like a joke, but it was obvious he had not dismissed the Thunderbolt Saber King’s warning.

The corners of Jeok Cheongang’s mouth were raised, but his eyes had gone cold and still.

“That’s enough grumbling. Get going.”

“Damn it. Even the heavens are heartless. Why did Hong Dao, that damn monk, have to disappear at a time like this?”

After leaving behind a single lament, the Thunderbolt Saber King turned away and vanished from sight.

Now only Jeok Cheongang and I remained.

We continued at high speed, leaping over rooftops and racing past the hundreds of buildings stretching endlessly before us as we exchanged words.

“If you find him, do not act rashly. Understood?”

“I can’t promise that. I have a score to settle.”

“Jongni Chu is beyond your ability to handle. Do not engage him until I give the order.”

“Just how strong is he?”

After a brief silence, Jeok Cheongang’s lips parted.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean by that…?”

“Even I could not determine what martial arts he had learned or what realm he had reached.”

“…!”

First the famously proud Thunderbolt Saber King, and now Jeok Cheongang—who ranked among the strongest of the Ten Kings in terms of sheer martial power—had given such an answer.

I was licking my parched lips when—

Kwoooong!

Far in the distance, a cloud of dust rose with a thunderous roar. Screams and shrill whistles rang out from every direction, announcing the enemy’s appearance.

I opened my senses wide and gathered the information.

West. About five hundred zhang² away.

That was the direction of the Beggars’ Sect.

If I pushed my movement technique to its limit, I could reach it in moments.

“Old Master!”

“I know.”

Boom!

Jeok Cheongang and I shot forward like cannonballs.

The scenery whipping past us began to change. The endless rows of pavilions dwindled one by one, and tall city walls came into view.

The harder we ran against the fierce pressure of the wind, the heavier my chest felt.

What is this feeling?

Could it be the pressure of facing Jongni Chu again?

I glanced sideways. Jeok Cheongang’s expression had hardened. The emotion etched across his face was unmistakable foreboding.

A moment later, we discovered the source of that inexplicable feeling.

“Chase that bastard!”

“Master! Please come to your senses, Master!”

A massive pit about thirty zhang² wide.

Through the gathered Beggars’ Sect disciples, I caught sight of a blood-soaked monk’s robe.

A wrinkled hand trembled at irregular intervals. Below where both legs had been severed, a pool of blood had formed, and prayer beads stained crimson with their owner’s blood bobbed on its surface.

“…Damn monk?”

Jeok Cheongang’s steps stopped dead when he saw his friend.

Jeok Cheongang’s vision went hazy.

Their last conversation echoed endlessly in his ears.

“Something came up. I need to step away for a while.”

“Now?”

“I’ll take care of it and be right back.”

“Is it something small or something serious?”

“Amitabha.⁴ As Shakyamuni⁵ said, if you resolve the greater matter first, the smaller matter will resolve itself.”

“That damn Amitabha. This is why people call you a damn monk.”

“What does it matter whether I’m a Buddha or a damn monk? Ha-ha-ha.”

He remembered clearly how Hong Dao had left with a laugh half a shichen⁶ ago.

But why…

Why are you lying here like this?

Splash.

Mud and bloody water splattered. The Beggars’ Sect disciples surrounding the fallen old monk hurriedly stepped aside and bowed their heads.

“G-Great Hero Jeok!”

“Our Sect Leader is pursuing Jongni Chu. B-but by the time we arrived, it was already too late…”

“Move.”

The voice that slipped from Jeok Cheongang’s lips was as dry as spent ash.

Every sound stopped. It was as though the world itself had frozen.

His senses were already focused on one person alone.

“I’m here.”

It was the same greeting as always. But instead of Hong Dao’s sly voice, a labored cough answered him.

Cough.

The Dharma King Hong Dao’s chest heaved, and black blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.

A grave Internal Injury. Fragments of his organs were mixed into the blood. There was no need to examine him to know what had happened inside his body.

“Well, now. Your friend is here, and you couldn’t even wait for me before lying down again?”

Jeok Cheongang spoke calmly as he dropped down beside Hong Dao.

He grasped the blood-soaked old monk’s wrist and sent internal energy into him. What he had suspected became reality.

Beyond saving.

The painful, crushing verdict filled Jeok Cheongang’s mind.

“Do you remember when we first met? Back when we fought those Demonic Cult bastards in Gansu almost every day?”

Was Hong Dao listening? Could he even hear him?

Everyone shared the same question, but Jeok Cheongang paid it no mind and continued speaking.

“At first, I wondered what kind of damn monk you were. But they say even dislike can become affection, and when the time came to part with you, I found myself reluctant.”

Although he had never once said it aloud, Hong Dao was the only friend Jeok Cheongang had ever opened his heart to.

To his Master, he had needed to be a reliable Disciple. To the first Disciple he later accepted, he had needed to be a dependable Master.

But with Hong Dao, it was different.

When he was with Hong Dao, he did not have to be anyone’s anything. He could simply be Jeok Cheongang, an ordinary human being.

“Did you know?”

Jeok Cheongang sent internal energy into Hong Dao’s Mingmen acupoint and spoke in a low voice.

“You’re my best friend.”

The breath that had been so weak it seemed ready to stop at any moment eased. The eyelids that looked as though they would remain closed forever finally opened a sliver.

A final rally.

Jeok Cheongang gazed into Hong Dao’s gray eyes as the final flame of life flickered within them.

“Speak. Anything at all.”

Hong Dao’s blood-soaked lips moved faintly. Jeok Cheongang put his ear to Hong Dao’s mouth and listened to his final words, his expression changing by the moment.

Anger. Shock. The realization of something.

And the final emotion to appear was sorrow.

Slowly. Then with a soft thud.

The coughing voice fell silent. The heaving chest and trembling eyelids settled peacefully.

Hong Dao closed his eyes as though he had fallen asleep, a satisfied smile still resting at the corners of his mouth.

Jeok Cheongang stared at him before opening his mouth.

“We’re going to Shaolin.”

His voice boiled like molten lava.