Chapter 314

I stared blankly at the scene unfolding before me.

The spacious room had been reduced to a wasteland. Amid all the broken debris stood two young men facing each other. No—three, if you counted the middle-aged man whose face had gone deathly pale.

What kind of picture is this supposed to be?

The answer came quickly.

What kind of picture? The same one I saw practically every day.

Provocation and fighting. At this point, I was starting to think they were essential virtues of martial artists.

After roughly assessing the situation, I muttered,

“You’ve really laid out a full-course feast.”

Baek Museong quietly lowered his sword and gave me an awkward smile.

“You came.”

“You told me to come, so I did. But now I already want to leave.”

“It’s been a long time. But where are the others…?”

His eyes swept over my back. He couldn’t possibly be looking for Gung Gibang or Hyuk Mujin. He was obviously searching for his hated Martial Uncle.

But Cheongpung and the rest of the Bermuda Triangle had vanished without a trace.

I thought they were following me quietly.

Please, just don’t cause any trouble.

I rubbed the spot between my eyebrows and answered. Never mind the Bermuda trio—the immediate problem was right in front of me.

“Is that what matters right now? Is causing incidents just a Huashan thing?”

“There was a minor problem.”

“You don’t need to explain. Anyone can see that.”

Suppressing a click of my tongue, I looked at the young bastard facing Baek Museong.

Sharp eyes and a shovel chin. Every young prodigy I’d met around here had been handsome or beautiful, so I’d felt a certain sense of deprivation by comparison. But this guy was on the ugly side, which made me instantly feel more familiar with him.

“Hello.”

They say you can’t spit in a smiling face.

In response to my friendly greeting, the bastard said,

“Get lost. A beggar like you has no place here.”

I turned to Baek Museong.

“Young Hero Baek, who the fuck is this?”

“He is Hyuk Sopyung, the Zhongnan One Dragon.”

“This bastard is a dragon too? Why are there so many dragons?”

“He is known throughout the martial world as Zhongnan Sect’s greatest prodigy and one of the Ten Dragons and Phoenixes.”

“He looks like an earthworm.”

An ugly bastard with an ugly personality. That pissed me off twice as much.

At my mutter, Hyuk Sopyung’s eyebrows shot up.

“Well, look at this dogshit bastard…”

“It’s better than being worse than a dog. And think carefully before you swing that sword. This is the greatest crisis of your life.”

Hyuk Sopyung’s hand twitched. The blade that had been moving ever so slightly toward me was lowered, and he slowly looked me up and down with gleaming eyes.

“You’re no ordinary man.”

“Yep. I’m pretty extraordinary.”

“I thought you were someone who sold hides… But then again, Huashan’s Lone Crane wouldn’t deal with someone like that.”

“Unlike someone like you, Young Hero Baek will deal with anyone. And look at these beautiful muscles. Do you think you can build muscles like this by selling hides?”

My shabby appearance was a fact.

I had charged straight ahead for more than seven days and nights without stopping at an inn even once. The oil in my hair was flowing freely, and the clean martial uniform I’d started with had long since become covered in dust.

And, to put the finishing touch on the whole ensemble, I was carrying a wooden pack frame piled high with hides. The small figure of Jeok Cheongang was hidden inside.

My clothes are one thing, but I do smell a little.

It was about time I washed.

Hyuk Sopyung glared at me as I pressed my nose to my uniform and sniffed.

“Stop fooling around and state your sect and name.”

“Every time it’s ‘sect, sect.’ Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

“I’ll guarantee you one thing. If you aren’t from the Nine Sects and One Gang or the Five Great Families, you won’t walk out of here in one piece.”

“Really?”

I deliberately shuddered.

“What should I do? My sect is neither the Nine Sects and One Gang nor the Five Great Families. Could you just let me walk out anyway?”

“You should have watched your mouth. Remember that your paltry three-inch tongue has placed both you and your sect in danger.”

“My sect is actually in a bit of trouble already. There are only two of us in the whole sect, including me.”

“Two?”

“Yep. My Master and me. That’s it.”

Hyuk Sopyung turned toward Baek Museong with a sneer tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“To think you would waste your time dealing with a nobody from a Third Rate sect. You must have far too much time on your hands. Wouldn’t it be better to spend that time practicing your martial arts?”

“Perhaps. But I believe there is a considerable fallacy in what you just said.”

Baek Museong continued with a kind smile.

“First, Young Hero Jin’s sect is not Third Rate, and he is not a nobody. Second, you are a level below me. That has remained true from the day we first met until now.”

“What did you just say?”

“I said you are a level below me. Seeing you run amok while drunk, I suspect that will remain true in the future as well.”

His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were not.

There was something else in Baek Museong’s gaze, something unrelated to whether he possessed martial arts or not.

The aura—or perhaps the dignity—that belonged to him as a person.

That seemed to be part of the reason Hyuk Sopyung, despite grinding his teeth, didn’t dare answer him.

And people of that type always try to solve things with their fists when they can’t think of a reply.

Just like now.

The tip of Hyuk Sopyung’s sword trembled. I spoke before he could make a move.

“I believe I already said this. Think carefully before you swing that sword.”

Whoosh.

Hyuk Sopyung turned toward me, his eyes shining with murderous intent.

“You…”

“I’m an egalitarian who doesn’t discriminate between one thing and another, but you should be grateful that you’re a Disciple of the Zhongnan Sect. If you weren’t, you’d already have been carried out of here.”

Dark Heaven was gathering like a storm cloud in the distance.

At a time like this, when the Murim needed to unite just to stand a chance, starting a dispute with the Zhongnan Sect was obviously a terrible idea.

Though, to be fair, it might already be a little late.

I already had a bad history with the Zhongnan Sect.

As Three Hands of Zhongnan—and as the Roaring Fury Swordsman.

Old Master thoroughly beat him down and drove him away a year ago.

The Roaring Fury Swordsman wasn’t some nameless nobody rolling around in the street. He was an Elder of the Zhongnan Sect—and the martial senior brother of Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord, the Sect Leader himself. From what I’d heard, the fallout had been considerable.

Later, I heard that the Roaring Fury Swordsman had entered secluded training for some reason, while the Three Hands of Zhongnan had been slapped by their Sect Leader.

That’s already a perfectly good grudge. No need to take it any further.

The smell of the oil Jeok Cheongang had poured over the Zhongnan Sect hadn’t even faded yet. Setting fire to it wasn’t something I wanted.

Especially not while Jeok Cheongang was unconscious.

“So put your sword away and go on your way quietly. Okay?”

Good job. This is how you become an adult.

It was such a calm response that I wanted to praise myself.

But Zhongnan One Dragon Hyuk Sopyung thought differently.

His teeth ground together, and his eyes flashed.

“Then let’s see if you have the skill to match that mouth of yours.”

Hissssss!

The sword in Hyuk Sopyung’s hand tore through the air at blinding speed.

At the same time, a net of Sword Energy descended upon me.

It was the very same martial art that had been unleashed by Song Il, the Roaring Fury Swordsman, a year ago.

Heavenly River Thirty-Six Swords.

The signature technique of the Zhongnan Sect.

Jeok Cheongang had told me that once someone reached the ultimate level of the Heavenly River Thirty-Six Swords, a single swing could fill the heavens and earth in every direction with Sword Energy.

But…

“You know what?”

Whoosh!

Flamefire Path.

The Fire Gate Clan’s signature movement technique, passed down for hundreds of years, transformed into a single streak of flame.

It tore through the net of Sword Energy and reached its target without hesitation. Looking into Hyuk Sopyung’s wide-open eyes, I whispered,

“You and I are on different levels.”

“……!”

Hiss—grab!

Hyuk Sopyung hurriedly changed the path of his sword, but I seized his wrist.

The Extreme Yang qi concentrated in my hand made a sizzling sound as his flesh burned.

“Gaaah!”

A single scream escaped him.

The sword slipped from Hyuk Sopyung’s grasp and rolled across the floor with a metallic clatter.

Before it even hit the ground, my palm had already connected with his cheek.

Smack!

Once more.

Smack!

And once more.

Smack!

Hyuk Sopyung’s body staggered after taking three slaps before he had any chance to resist.

Even without putting any internal energy into the blows, my physical abilities had long since surpassed normal human limits. Hyuk Sopyung’s eyes were already unfocused, his spirit half gone.

“What did you say earlier? You wanted to see if I had the skill to match my mouth?”

“Ghh… Ghhhhh…”

“Listen, you idiot. If you’re from the Zhongnan Sect, then I’m from the physical school. Next time, make sure you know where you’re going to lie down before you stretch out your legs. Okay?”

Tap, tap.

I patted Hyuk Sopyung’s cheek, and only then did his eyes finally regain their focus.

“H-how could you overcome the Heavenly River Thirty-Six Swords at seven-tenths mastery so easily…?”

“You’ve only mastered seven-tenths of it? No wonder it felt so half-assed. Get it to at least nine-tenths before you come at me again. I’ve already faced it once, so the result will probably be the same, but still.”

“You’ve faced the Heavenly River Thirty-Six Swords at n-nine-tenths mastery?”

“I have. I even dodged it.”

“That’s impossible! Fewer than five people in our sect have mastered it to nine-tenths!”

“I’m talking about one of those five. I heard he’s one of the top three masters in Zhongnan.”

I let out a quiet laugh and continued.

“The Roaring Fury Swordsman, Song Il. I wonder how the old man is doing these days. He didn’t look very well when he was publicly humiliated and driven out last year.”

That answer was enough.

Hyuk Sopyung was a Direct Disciple who could be called Zhongnan’s purest blood, and he was known as the sect’s greatest prodigy. There was no way an insider wouldn’t know a rumor that even an outsider had heard.

Hyuk Sopyung’s bloodshot eyes widened, and his body trembled.

“Then are you…?”

“About what I said regarding my sect—every word was true. It isn’t the Nine Sects and One Gang, and there are only two Disciples: my Master and me. I don’t know why our sect’s rules are like that, but with its one-person transmission and refusal to teach the unworthy, it’s damn strict.”

“The Fire Gate Clan…!”

“Disciples! There are two of them!”

“Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi, you’re Jin Taekyung!”

“Jin Taekyung! That’s right!”

I gave his collar a hard yank and shouted. Hyuk Sopyung’s face turned deathly pale.

I watched his expression for a moment, then gave the collar I was holding a few brisk pats.

“You know what our Master is like, right? Let’s end this here without giving each other any reason to be offended. What was it? Right. Let’s agree never to speak of this again.”

“……”

“Strange. No answer. Maybe you’ll be able to hear me after about ten slaps.”

I slowly raised my palm.

Hyuk Sopyung flinched reflexively and clenched his teeth.

“I… understand.”

“Hm? What did you say? I can’t quite hear the voice of a loser who’s only mastered seven-tenths of the Heavenly River Thirty-Six Swords.”

“……I said I understood.”

“Good. Take care on your way. I won’t walk you out.”

Crack.

The bones in Hyuk Sopyung’s fist creaked as he clenched it with all his strength.

After glaring one last time at me, Baek Museong, and the middle-aged martial artist whose identity I didn’t know, he took a long stride toward the door of the private annex.

Just as he was about to leave, Baek Museong spoke.

“I’m reminded of a boy I met at a Huashan–Zhongnan gathering ten years ago.”

“……!”

“Take care, Sopyung.”

At Baek Museong’s calm voice, Hyuk Sopyung stopped for a moment. Then he left the private annex without another word.

Hyuk Sopyung’s presence receded into the distance.

At the same time, someone began creeping toward us.

“Come out.”

At my words, someone sucked in a startled breath.

A moment later, Cheongpung poked his head out, his cheeks puffed up like a squirrel’s.

He gulped down the food in his mouth, glanced around nervously, and bobbed his head to Baek Museong.

“I’m really sorry about last time, Martial Nephew Baek…”

Suddenly, I remembered what had happened a year ago.

While Cheongpung was being forcibly escorted back to Huashan, he had beaten Baek Museong and the Three Plum Blossom Elites before escaping.

This is a meeting between the perpetrator and the victim.

That bastard is guilty, no question.