Chapter 447

Whoosh.

Silence hung over the swift ship as it cut rapidly through the current.

The river pirates of Water Dragon Stronghold rowed like machines, their mouths clamped shut, while Mu Song stared straight ahead with a rigid expression.

What a fantastic atmosphere.

I clicked my tongue inwardly and looked around.

Four swift ships were currently bound for Donghu Stronghold.

But the mood aboard them was worlds apart from when we had been sailing toward Hubei.

The unfamiliar faces now filling the ships were the reason.

The Zhuge Clan. And Wudang.

Disciples of the two prestigious factions that divided Hubei Province between them filled all four vessels.

One glance was enough to tell that they were elites, handpicked in preparation for possible bloodshed. Every last one of them was an exceptional martial artist.

And at their center stood two men.

“The wind seems unusually strong today, Family Head Zhuge.”

Zhuge Feng answered the old Daoist in an untroubled voice.

“You need not worry. If the wind is blowing like this, things will actually be easier for us.”

“Why is that? I understand dozens of ships have already sunk in winds weaker than this.”

“The boatmen’s skill is one factor, but the swift ships that symbolize the Yangtze River Channel League are in a class of their own. Rather than being swept away by strong winds, they can catch the wind and surge forward with even greater force.”

“I have heard some talk about swift ships as well… but I do not know the details, as my experience is limited. I have spent my entire life in Murim, yet it feels as though I have wasted it.”

“You have spent all that time at Wudang’s headquarters, so it is only natural that you would not know. But… may I ask what became of the matter you mentioned last time?”

“Our Sect Leader is personally working on it together with the disciples of our main sect. As for me, I was sent here instead, since all I was doing was sitting around and consuming the sect’s grain.”

“Doing nothing but consuming grain? With Perfected Being Hyeongong joining us, this junior feels as though he has gained an army of thousands.”

Zhuge Feng was not merely being polite. He meant every word.

Perfected Being Hyeongong.

That was the Daoist name of the old man in the heavily patched robe, with a single worn Pine-Pattern Ancient Sword hanging at his waist.

Neither his position within Wudang nor his generational seniority in Murim was inferior to Zhuge Feng’s.

If anything, he stood equal to Zhuge Feng—or even above him.

Unlike Zhuge Feng, who had yet to turn sixty, Perfected Being Hyeongong was a master of the previous generation who had distinguished himself during the Great Faction War. He was also the current Wudang Sect Leader’s Junior Brother.

And one of the Supreme Peak masters Wudang is so proud of.

Perfected Being Hyeongong was the swordsman said to have reached the ultimate stage of Wudang’s greatest technique, the Taiji Wisdom Sword.

Even as Family Head of the Zhuge Clan, Zhuge Feng spoke to him with marked respect in front of everyone. That alone showed the regard he had for Hyeongong.

Of course, there was one exception to all this.

“That little punk has grown.”

At the words of Jeok Cheongang—Murim’s own Bodhidharma-tier¹ old-timer—I muttered in disbelief.

“He sure has. He’s grown so much his beard turned white.”

“How old was he the last time I saw him? Thirty? Hah. Time certainly flies. Those soft-fuzzed little brats have all become Sect Leaders and Elders.”

“Soft fuzz? At thirty, wouldn’t he have had a full bush down there?”

Jeok Cheongang glared at me with fire in his eyes.

“Judging by the way you keep nitpicking my every word, you must want every hair below your waist plucked out.”

“No, why would you say something like that?”

I had absolutely no desire to receive a Fire King Zilean² waxing on the deck of a swift ship.

I waved my hands at the speed of light, then stole a sidelong glance at Jeok Cheongang.

“Since we’re on the subject, may I ask your venerable age?”

“Venerable?”

Even under normal circumstances, Jeok Cheongang treated being called old as another way of asking him to kill you. I awkwardly tried again.

“…Then, your age?”

“My age?”

Seriously, what more did he want? The man was over a hundred.

I asked with all the exasperation I could muster.

“Cheongang, how old are you?”

Whack!

Right. I knew that would happen.

Jeok Cheongang smacked the back of my head like a bolt of lightning, then answered in a bored voice.

“I stopped counting after I passed one hundred.”

“So how long ago was the last time you counted?”

“Five thousand years ago. Satisfied?”

Cheongpung, who had been dangling from the nearby bow, dropped his jaw.

“Wow! Five thousand years old!”

“…Does that little punk not know how to doubt anything?”

“…That’s just how he is. Anyway, you look unbelievably young for your age.”

Jeok Cheongang stared hard at me.

“Would you like to know more?”

“Of course not.”

Honestly, I did want to know, but judging by his expression, this was something I was better off not knowing.

He was sensitive about his age at the best of times. Worse, being aboard a swift ship racing over rougher currents and through stronger winds than ever seemed to be causing him tremendous stress.

“When the hell is this goddamned piece of wood going to stop?”

Right then, as though it had heard his complaint, the goddamned piece of wood sped up even more.

Whoooosh!

A column of water shot high into the air, and the once-steady hull began rocking from side to side.

Cheongpung cheered at the sudden violent motion like a child visiting an amusement park on Children’s Day.³

Hyuk Mujin and Gung Gibang, who still had not recovered from their little dip in the Yangtze, let out ear-splitting screams. Mungyeong alone remained perfectly balanced, but when he noticed everyone looking at him, he tactfully grabbed the railing.

And Jeok Cheongang…

“Uhh! Uhhhhhhhh!”

He was panicking so badly that no one would have guessed his title was the Fire King.

Good heavens, look at those bulging eyes. He could be used in a Gangnam plastic surgeon’s subway advertisement as a successful double-eyelid surgery case.

Dodging the water splashing into my face, I shouted at Mu Song.

“Senior! Could you slow down a little—”

“That will be difficult.”

Mu Song cut me off sharply.

Like a man born and raised on the Yangtze, he stood tall as though his feet were planted on level ground. He raised one hand and pointed ahead.

“Can you see it?”

See what?

I narrowed my eyes and stared where he was pointing.

I drew up my internal energy and focused it into my eyes. My dramatically enhanced vision pierced the dense fog blanketing the churning river.

That’s…

I saw it.

A passage so narrow that even swift ships, among the sleekest of all vessels, could barely squeeze through two abreast.

And directly before it, a violent whirlpool twisting like a blade.

Whoooosh! Crack!

A massive log that had drifted in from parts unknown was caught in the whirlpool, which stretched more than a hundred zhang⁴ in radius. Unable to withstand the crushing water pressure, it snapped apart.

Some of the splintered pieces were flung away and smashed into a huge rock standing behind the whirlpool like a gatekeeper, shattering into fragments.

A whirlpool like that in a river? Not the sea, but a river?

The sight was as wondrous as it was chilling.

And everyone aboard the swift ships knew the identity of that monstrous whirlpool.

“Tianling Falls!”

Someone shouted the words like a scream.

That was right. This was Tianling Falls.

A work of nature that had transformed Donghu Stronghold of the Yangtze River Channel League into a natural fortress—and a monster that had swallowed countless lives and ships over the centuries.

Looking as though he might suffocate at any moment, Jeok Cheongang declared, “Turn the ship around. I would rather fight the Great Faction War all over again than cross that.”

Gung Gibang and Hyuk Mujin spoke next, their faces suggesting they had already suffocated.

“Senior Mu Song. Please save us. I would rather beg in a beggars’ den.”

“Captain, thank you for everything. I’m done with Murim. I want to go home and sell silk.”

“…It looks like your soul will be sold before the silk.”

Not that I wasn’t scared myself.

Watching that enormous whirlpool rush toward us made me feel like an ant tumbling into an antlion’s pit.

Fuck. We’re going to smash against that rock and get blown to pieces, then get sucked straight down like someone flushed a toilet.

Before the terror of nature itself, even the System and Supreme Peak martial arts seemed useless.

If someone dropped me into the middle of the Yangtze, I was confident I could somehow swim to shore. But if I got caught in a whirlpool like that…

Then I really was finished.

“Whew. Whew.”

As I took deep breaths, a thick hand settled on my shoulder.

“My youngest.”

Even as a fairly tall man myself, I had to tilt my head back to look up at the giant beside me. Jin Wikyung spoke with a calm expression.

“Do not worry about a thing.”

His composure alone made me want to call him Eldest Brother.

Putting aside Jeok Cheongang, who had a pathological hatred of water, even I had reached the Supreme Peak realm and was still feeling my blood run cold. Yet Jin Wikyung, whose martial arts were far below ours, did not waver in the slightest.

So this is why he’s my eldest brother. Why he’s the Lesser Family Head.

“Eldest Brother…”

“Yes.”

Jin Wikyung smiled faintly and nodded.

“Even in death, the bond between our brothers will last forever.”

“What?”

“I can see our deceased parents hovering before my eyes. It is as though they are beckoning to us from Tianling Falls.”

“…Isn’t Father still alive?”

“We lost contact with him again a long time ago. Let us simply consider him dead.”

Eldest brother, my ass. He’s just a big bastard.

And while he was at it, he had declared our perfectly alive father dead just because the man had dumped the family responsibilities on him and run away.

Shit…

I looked around. Most of the people aboard were already half out of their minds, surrendering their bodies to the beat of Mother Nature.

With my last shred of hope, I looked at Mu Song.

“Senior Mu Song.”

“I’m sorry, but it is too late to stop.”

Whoooosh! Crack!

“Oh, fuck. He’s right.”

Mu Song nodded, his expression grim.

“Hold on tight. My men and I will do our best as well.”

“What? What do you mean, do your best?”

“Do you think every province has its own Tianling Falls? I have only crossed it three or four times, when I came to Hubei to visit Uncle Hwang. We have no choice but to trust in the League’s swift ships and the skills we have honed over the years.”

“W-wait. So you’re saying… you’re a Tianling Falls newbie?”

“I do not know why you are suddenly bringing up Liu Bei,⁵ but of course I am unfamiliar with it. Ever since leaving headquarters and becoming a Stronghold Lord, I have spent all my time in Sichuan.”

He had a point.

A fucking punchable point.

Half out of my mind, I barely squeezed out my voice.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Why are you only telling us something this important now?”

“Great Hero Zhuge told me not to tell anyone else.”

What?

My head snapped around at lightning speed. The disciples of both factions stood rigid with tension, and at their center was one man.

Zhuge Feng met my gaze and laughed heartily as the rising spray pelted his face.

“A wise man leads his allies, while a strategist deceives even his allies! Now that we have all climbed onto the tiger’s back, let us ride it to the bitter end!”

“……!”

“……!”

Was this really happening?

Every last one of us was left speechless.

Jeok Cheongang, meanwhile, lost his mind.

“That fucking son of a bitch…!”

It was one of the greatest fits of rage I had ever witnessed.

But just as Jeok Cheongang rolled his eyes back until only the whites showed and prepared to charge—

“Everyone, hold on tight!”

At Mu Song’s urgent shout, the whirlpool of Tianling Falls opened its maw wide and slammed into the swift ship.

KRA-KOOOOM!