Chapter 348

The black-robed men stood in neat ranks and files. The sheer number of them—several hundred—was not the only thing filling the enormous cavern.

It was their aura.

The suffocating aura emanating from the men—their eyes deep-set, their bodies upright as iron towers—was swallowing the cavern.

And towering over them all stood one man—a giant in his own right.

“The Three Fiends.”

Vwoom.

The voice, infused with profound internal energy, pierced the black-robed men’s ears, and their bodies shuddered. The three old men at the front were no exception.

They stepped forward several paces, then prostrated themselves at the middle-aged man’s feet—none waiting for the others—and cried out in unison.

“The juniors of the Qilian Mountains pay their respects to the Western Heaven Demon Lord.”

Their faces, builds, and voices.

The three old men were brothers born of the same mother, and they looked astonishingly alike in every way.

Their mother had died giving birth to them. Their father had abandoned his young children and left. The three brothers, left behind in the barren land of Qinghai, hid near the vast mountain range to escape the people’s scorn.

Then, one day, after they had been forgotten by everyone, the three brothers returned.

They returned under the name of the Qilian Three Fiends.

“You’ve aged quite a bit since I last saw you. I suppose I can call you the Three Old Men now.”

“N-no, my lord. How could we presume to call ourselves that when Your Excellency is here?”

The Qilian Three Fiends had once been fiends who dyed Qinghai Province red with blood. Yet before the Western Heaven Demon Lord, they were nothing more than docile lambs.

The Qilian Three Fiends swallowed hard, then opened their mouths at the same time, as if they were one person.

“B-but, my lord. Forgive us for saying so, but your arm…”

“This?”

The Western Heaven Demon Lord looked down at the empty sleeve where one of his arms should have been and answered in a dry voice.

“It was the price I paid to take two lives.”

“Does that mean…”

“The two old fossils from the Tang Clan and Emei are no longer of this world.”

“……!”

The air inside the cavern trembled with agitation.

Who were the Poison King and the Heaven-Shaking Venerable Nun? They were giants who had left their mark on the history of the Murim, Supreme Peak masters who had dominated an entire era.

And yet…

They had both met their end at the hands of a single man.

The Qilian Three Fiends and the black-robed men stared at their leader with awe.

“Th-then…”

“Yes.”

A strange light flashed in the Western Heaven Demon Lord’s eyes.

“The time has finally come.”

Right now, my eyes are closed.

I focus my mind in the quiet darkness. As a voice pierces my ears, someone’s figure takes shape in the darkness.

Neither tall nor short, the young man hiding claws behind a bright smile is Cheongpung.

“First, I’ll target my Benefactor’s shoulder, chest, and stomach in that order with Crouching Tiger Fist.”

Cheongpung’s form, created by my imagination in the darkness, moved.

Fast.

He erased the distance in a single step and charged at me. His fist blurred, and I could almost hear the fierce sound of air splitting somewhere nearby.

“I can dodge that easily. I’ll retreat half a step diagonally and throw a fist at your flank.”

“I’ll use Chaotic Flower Hand to redirect the force as I retreat, then counter with Thirty-Six Plum Blossom Swords.”

“What form?”

“One Cut Under Heaven.”

One Cut Under Heaven was among the most powerful supreme forms in the Thirty-Six Plum Blossom Swords.

Even back when I had frequently sparred with Cheongpung, I had chosen to evade that technique rather than block it.

“Isn’t that a little too much?”

“Given who my opponent is, I have to give it everything I’ve got.”

“What happened to calling me Benefactor?”

“That’s one thing, and this is another. Hehe. Anyway, One Cut Under Heaven.”

One Cut Under Heaven.

It wasn’t difficult to imagine how the attack would come in.

In the darkness, Cheongpung redirected the force with Chaotic Flower Hand and retreated without taking a hit. At the same time, his hand reached for his waist, and a flash burst forth.

Sshk!

Along with a spine-chilling hiss, Sword Energy burst out horizontally.

I could see it clearly before me.

How should I respond?

I didn’t have to think long.

“I’ll deflect it. First form of the Fire Dragon Divine Spear. Fire Dragon’s Single Tail.”

“You won’t be able to block it.”

“When was the last time we fought?”

“Hmm. About a year ago.”

“If you think about it one way, that’s short. If you think about it another, it’s a long time. It was long for me. Long enough for a single day to feel like ten years.”

“……!”

“Think about it again. Are you sure I can’t block it?”

Cheongpung was silent for a moment before answering. His voice had sunk low.

“I was thinking about it wrong. If it’s you, Benefactor… I think you can.”

“Then let’s continue.”

Cheongpung and I devoted ourselves to discussing martial arts for a long while.

It had been more than a year since we had directly crossed hands, but we knew each other’s martial arts and skill levels well—from the Star-Array Grand Banquet until now. That was what made this possible.

“Three steps to the left. Plum Blossom Five-Point Finger.”

“Plum Blossom Five-Point Finger is an excellent martial art, but as long as I watch out for the vital points, it won’t matter. I’ll follow you in and aim Flame-Extinguishing Divine Fist at your chest.”

Within the images each of us had drawn, the back-and-forth exchange continued.

A hundred, two hundred…

Before long, once our imagined bout had passed five hundred exchanges, Cheongpung suddenly spoke.

“I’ll use Dark Fragrance Drift to close to within two steps, then Plum Blossom Three-Ridge Sword.”

Suddenly?

Cheongpung was weaker than me in close combat. He had learned Huashan’s outstanding supreme martial arts, but perhaps because the sect’s roots lay in sword techniques, the Fire Gate Clan had a slight advantage when it came to palm techniques.

And yet he was closing in like this…

Ah. So that’s it.

I had guessed as much, but of course it was Cheongpung.

I opened my eyes with a hollow laugh. When I didn’t answer for a long while, Cheongpung cautiously opened his eyes to a narrow slit and asked,

“Benefactor, why?”

“That’s enough for today.”

“Ah! Why?”

“Because it would be a shame.”

“What?”

“Let’s fight for real later. Not this kind of swordplay discussion. Let’s actually cross weapons.”

It was too disappointing to settle things through a mere exchange of imagined techniques. I meant that we should fight later with both of us giving it everything we had.

Cheongpung was as innocent as a child, but he was by no means stupid. Surely that much would be enough for him to understand—

“Why would we cross weapons? Don’t they just collide?”

“…….”

No.

Maybe he really was just an idiot.

As I regretted my hasty judgment, Cheongpung began pestering me.

“I’m bored, Benefactor. Can’t we just keep going?”

“Oh, Young Hero Cheongpung. Did you happen to hear?”

“Hear what?”

I gazed intently at Cheongpung and parted my lips.

“I heard there’s a former imperial chef in the Sichuan Tang Clan.”

“An imperial chef?”

“They say he makes incredible food. Especially pastries and sweets.”

Gasp.

Cheongpung’s eyes grew hazy for a moment, but he soon shook his head vigorously.

“N-no. I have to stay here with you and watch over Grandpa Jeok.”

“It’s fine. I’m staying here anyway, so—”

“Then I’ll be back!”

“……Sure. Go ahead.”

Whoosh!

What was that? Some kind of bullet movement technique?

The moment Cheongpung vanished at the speed of light, I looked around.

It was a space where a bleak chill coexisted with a foul stench—the underground prison. I hadn’t left it even once since the treatment began.

“It’s only been four days.”

The words slipped from my mouth like a sigh.

Time passed far more slowly in the underground prison than I had imagined. Not because the place never saw a ray of sunlight, but because of the anxiety and tension felt only by those who were waiting.

Perhaps that was why every day felt like my blood was drying up.

“Maybe I should have stayed in front of the treatment room.”

Even as I said it, I shook my head. There was nothing I could do by pacing in front of the treatment room door anyway.

With my five senses already sharpened to their limit, I would have listened to every sound coming from inside before eventually being unable to endure it and pacing around the underground prison at a distance.

Just as I was doing now.

Still, it’s awfully quiet with me here alone.

After Cheongpung, who had clung to me like a burr for the past three days, disappeared, I felt strangely empty.

By Tang Sadok’s order, even Old Man Gung was forbidden from entering the prison. That meant I was completely alone now.

No. Come to think of it, I’m not alone.

I wasn’t talking about the Divine Physician and Mungyeong, who were likely completely absorbed in treating Jeok Cheongang.

There were ten or so prisoners trapped in the underground prison, waiting for the day they would die.

They were my roommates.

Not exactly the best roommates, though.

They weren’t the kind who left the toilet unflushed or constantly brought their lovers over. Every one of them was a fiend who had earned a notorious name throughout the martial world.

Even if they were imprisoned, there was no way sharing a space with men like that could be enjoyable.

And the most troublesome part was…

Dong. Ddong. Ddeeeong.

I’m the one who has to feed them.

I frowned at the familiar sound of the bell.

With Old Man Gung away, someone had to check whether the prisoners were still alive and feed them.

That someone was me.

The bell that had just rung was the signal from outside announcing mealtime.

At least it’s only once a day.

Still, bothersome was bothersome. I sighed and started walking.

In a corner of the prison, a thoroughly battered wooden barrel waited for me, along with food haphazardly mixed together inside it.

It had been poured down through a hole connected to the surface. Calling it a meal was generous. It was basically a slop bucket.

No one’s around, so I guess it’s feeding time.

There had been a reason Tang Sadok had used the word feed three days ago.

The Sichuan Tang Clan treated the prisoners here like dogs and pigs.

No, dogs and pigs had it better. At least livestock wouldn’t have to worry about surprise events where Old Man Gung approached with all kinds of torture implements while wearing an eerie smile.

“Heave-ho.”

With the mindset of a zookeeper, I carried the slop bucket around the prison.

Beyond the thick iron bars, prisoners sat with their arms and legs bound by steel chains. All I had to do was open the door, step inside, scoop up a full ladleful, and pour it into the battered bowls set before them.

Whenever I did that, the prisoners, who had been lying limp and helpless after prolonged imprisonment and torture, would make their eyes flash and strike up a conversation.

“Never seen your face before.”

“I’ve seen you for three days. What kind of bullshit is that?”

“Release me. I’ll teach you martial arts that can look down on all under heaven.”

“Judging by the fact that you’re rotting in here, they sound like martial arts the whole world can look down on.”

“You insolent bastard… The moment I get out of here, I’ll tear you apart and kill you myself.”

“Oh, impressive. I’ll be sure to pass that along to Old Man Gung.”

“Please, anything but that!”

All kinds of attempts at persuasion continued without end.

Some offered to teach me their martial arts. A middle-aged beauty who had once drained the vitality of the Tang Clan’s direct line through a technique of harvesting yang to replenish yin even tried to seduce me.

“Child. Why don’t you come a little closer? I’ll show you heaven.”

“Kirara Asuka. Grandma Uehara.”¹

“……What?”

“The mainland still has a long way to go compared to the island nation. Stop talking nonsense and eat your food.”

“You little—Hey! You turtle bastard!”

I ignored her spiteful shouting and headed toward the last prison cell.

In the most secluded and damp corner was a strange man with disheveled hair.

He’s the quietest old man in this prison.

He was also the most dangerous.

The severed sinews and meridians in his limbs, along with the restraints several times heavier and sturdier than those worn by the other prisoners, were proof enough.

Rattle. Thump.

The old man stared silently at the bowl containing the unidentified food, then suddenly opened his mouth.

“I heard you talking about this old man.”

I stopped short.

Not because it was the first time I had heard his voice in three days, but because I couldn’t understand what he meant.

“Talking about you? When did I ever do that?”

“Three days ago. Didn’t that Gung fellow say so?”

“Gung fellow? Old Man Gung?”

After searching through my memories for a moment, I looked at the old man with fresh surprise.

“Oh. Then are you the one who pissed on the Kunlun Sect’s signboard?”

“Yes. This old man is the Heavenly Power Demon—”

“So you were the Kunlun Sect’s public-pissing criminal.”

“…….”

The old man—the Heavenly Power Demon—had an eyelid that twitched.