Chapter 468

Rumble-rumble-rumble, crash!

It was a storm unlike anything anyone had ever experienced.

Every time thunder boomed alongside the lightning, the rain grew heavier, and the river thrashed like a violent dragon.

And one ship was trying to fight its way against it all.

“Hard to port!”

The ship rocked like a willow leaf amid the raging waves. At Ship-Fire Boy Mu Song’s shout from the stern, the river bandits of Water Dragon Stronghold gritted their teeth.

“Grrrrgh!”

“Keep rowing! Put your asses into it and row!”

“Anyone who slacks off from this moment on had better watch out! What was it called again? Right! I’ll sentence you to the dip-and-taste punishment!¹”

“Aaaaaah!”

Every one of them was a seasoned, highly skilled sailor.

But despite Mu Song’s experienced commands and the river bandits’ efforts to summon every last ounce of strength, the worst weather they had ever encountered refused to let the ship advance any farther.

Crash! Boom!

The sail, swollen almost to the point of tearing, was driven back by the force of the wind. Rocks large and small flew in from every direction and slammed into the deck.

Disbelief flashed through Mu Song’s eyes at the impossible sight.

What in the world is this?

Martial arts were not the only thing he had learned from his Master, the Seafaring King.

If anything, he had first learned how to steer all sorts of ships, predict the weather, and read the currents—before he had learned martial arts.

Mu Song had been a sailor before he was a Murim martial artist, and no river bandit would follow an incompetent captain.

The little boy who had once yearned for the Yangtze had grown into a captain skilled enough to earn the respect of even old sailors. Even his coldhearted Master, who had not shown his Disciple the slightest hint of affection, had once said:

“It’s a shame. If your grit and martial talent had been even half as good as your skill with ships, you might have taken your Senior Brother’s place.”

There could not be two masters of the Yangtze River Channel League.

The Seafaring King had already chosen his Senior Disciple as his successor, so he sent Mu Song to Sichuan. After founding Water Dragon Stronghold, Mu Song soon distinguished himself and seized control of Sichuan’s stretch of the Yangtze at a young age.

Yet even Mu Song had never seen anything like this.

His Master, the Seafaring King, and the old river bandits who had spent their entire lives as sailors before retiring had probably never seen it either.

It wasn’t like this when we left the Yangtze tributary. So how…?

The reason was simple.

The weather had changed with shocking speed.

And they were currently on none other than Dongting Lake.

After receiving Zhuge Feng’s sudden summons, Mu Song had selected his most capable subordinates, crossed Tianling Falls, and immediately headed for Dongting Lake after asking around for Jin Taekyung’s whereabouts.

Not long afterward, they had run into a storm more suited to the middle of the sea.

Is this even possible? On Dongting Lake?

Hubei Province’s climate was generally warm. Its annual rainfall was fairly consistent, and although the Yangtze occasionally flooded, the flooding was rarely severe. In fact, it was one of the reasons the region had become such a fertile breadbasket.

Dongting Lake? It was certainly one of the three largest lakes under heaven, but it was still only a lake.

No matter how bad the weather became, it should not have been worse than the Yangtze’s currents. Compared to the unpredictable whirlpools of the sea, it should have been laughable.

That was what he had believed.

At least until two shichen² ago.

It wasn’t this bad when we first launched the ship.

He had not been particularly worried. Since Dongting Lake was not connected to the Yangtze or the sea routes, there was no way to bring a swift ship here. They had borrowed a small merchant vessel instead and headed for the place where Jin Taekyung’s group was said to have gone.

Or rather, they had tried to.

Unlike at the beginning, the weather had grown steadily worse the closer they came to their destination.

It was as though they had crossed some invisible line. Strange phenomena that should not have been possible on a lake were appearing everywhere.

Whoooooosh.

A waterspout rose with a chilling howl of wind.

It towered to a dizzying height, blocking the narrow waterway as it advanced toward the merchant vessel. A groan slipped between Mu Song’s clenched teeth.

“What the fucking hell is this…?”

If they were caught in that, it was over. Even if they managed to get past the waterspout, a merchant vessel this flimsy would not survive for long.

Torn between concern for his subordinates’ safety and his desire for revenge against Dark Heaven, which had killed Yangtze One Saber, Mu Song finally spoke.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid this is as far as we can go.”

An old voice answered him.

“That’s enough.”

And then—

Swish!

Behind Mu Song, a small figure that had remained perfectly balanced leaped from the mast.

He shot toward the waterspout through the driving rain and wind, then clenched his fist.

Hooooong.

A single stream of wind wrapped around the fist mottled with age spots. The air stopped moving, and not a single drop of rain dared approach.

At the tip of that fist, hellfire capable of burning everything took shape.

“Get the hell out of my way.”

With a voice like boiling lava, Fire King Jeok Cheongang threw a punch.

Flame-Extinguishing Divine Fist.

Whoooooosh!

The next moment, Mu Song and the river bandits saw it clearly.

The flames rising from the fist transformed into a fire dragon and bit into the waist of the waterspout.

The churning water collapsed in an instant beneath the overwhelming Scorching Yang Qi, every trace of moisture evaporating. The waterspout, which had been bearing down on the merchant vessel with the force of ten thousand geun³, became a dense cloud of steam that spread around them like fog.

Then—

Boom!

The heavy sound of something splitting the air scattered the steam.

Jeok Cheongang stood tall in midair, looking down at the merchant vessel. His voice, more deeply subdued than usual, drifted from his lips.

“What are you waiting for? Hurry up and follow me.”

He was not speaking to Mu Song or the river bandits under his command. Their roles had been decided from the beginning, and they had more than fulfilled them.

Only true masters belonged on the battlefield ahead.

And as everyone watched, one person stepped forward.

“Single Reed Crossing the River. Even Master Bodhidharma of Shaolin used a reed leaf to cross a river. From now on, you’d better come down instead of wasting your internal energy for no reason.”

Not a trace of emotion could be found in the flat, dry voice.

The bright, warm boy who had been caring for the sick as a medical apprentice only a short while ago was nowhere to be found.

As Mu Song and the river bandits flinched and moved aside, Mungyeong clicked his tongue inwardly.

Dong Feng. You foolish Disciple. In the end, things turned out exactly as you wanted.

He had lived as a medical apprentice for more than forty years.

With hands that had taken more than a thousand lives, he had treated and cared for the sick.

Instead of fiends, he had hunted the bastard called plague. He had gained the undeserved reputation of being a Divine Physician, but he had never once accepted wealth or sought fame.

It had merely been atonement.

And a vow.

But now, the stone pagoda he had built deep within his heart over decades of living as a medical apprentice had come crashing down.

No—perhaps it had collapsed the day he boarded the swift ship leaving Sichuan.

This too is the path this old man chose. How could I blame anyone else?

With a dry chuckle, he stepped forward. Behind him appeared a middle-aged man in disheveled scholar’s robes.

“This junior will go with you, Seniors.”

At the words of Zhuge Feng, the current Family Head of the Zhuge Clan and the Crouching Dragon Guest, Mungyeong answered in a dry voice.

“Of course you should. Why else would I bring a burden like you?”

“You certainly have a talent for embarrassing people.”

Mungyeong made a show of frowning. He had no intention of listening to Zhuge Feng ramble, especially when the man was no more than a babe compared to him.

“Enough nonsense. Get on my back.”

“You underestimate this junior. My enlightenment may not match that of the other Family Heads of the Five Great Families, but when it comes to internal energy alone…”

“There’s a reason I brought you here. If I had prioritized martial arts, I would have brought that youngster Hyeongong of Wudang instead. But shouldn’t someone remain back there?”

“……!”

Perfected Being Hyeongong was a master whose seniority placed him alongside the Sect Leaders of the Nine Sects and One Gang.

Mu Song and the river bandits had been unable to determine Mungyeong’s identity beyond knowing that he was a Returned to Youth master. They were shocked to hear him refer to Perfected Being Hyeongong, a respected elder throughout Murim, as a child.

“Gasp!”

“Who in the world is that man…?”

But Mungyeong had neither the time nor the inclination to answer.

He extended a hand, and Zhuge Feng’s body came sliding toward him.

After seizing none other than the current Family Head of the Zhuge Clan with Seizing an Object Through Empty Space, Mungyeong lightly pushed off the deck and soared like a bird.

Swish!

A movement technique both stealthy and impossibly elusive.

Not a single person left aboard the ship could recognize the Ghost Illusory Slaughter Step at its pinnacle.

Leaving the stunned men behind, Mungyeong’s body shot forward as though folding space.

“Is this the right direction?”

Splash!

Two—no, three figures sped forward, their feet stepping across the water.

Zhuge Feng, dangling from Mungyeong’s hand, answered Jeok Cheongang.

“According to what Ship-Fire Boy told us, we only need to keep heading straight from here.”

“Are you certain?”

“Of course. However…”

“However?”

After hesitating for a moment, Zhuge Feng continued.

“We still don’t know whether Jin Taekyung is there.”

“He is. Without a doubt.”

Jeok Cheongang immediately shook his head. His tone was nearly one of certainty.

“This weather… It isn’t a coincidence. Something unknown came here, and Taekyung is clearly after it.”

“It’s too early to jump to conclusions. We must first identify what it is.”

At Mungyeong’s words, Jeok Cheongang unconsciously reached inside his robes.

His hand closed around something as sharp as a sword blade and as hard as armor.

When Mungyeong had first brought it and shown it to the two of them, neither Jeok Cheongang nor Zhuge Feng had been able to believe what it was.

What is this? What in the world is happening?

The unease in the old man’s chest swelled rapidly, and his speed increased with it as he crossed the water using Rising on Duckweed, Crossing Water.

Rumble-rumble-rumble!

A tremendous roar rang out from beyond the violent rain and dense fog.

All three men’s eyes widened.

“This is…”

It was not thunder and lightning rumbling across the sky.

The black heavens above them were silent. The enormous sound had clearly come from somewhere several hundred jang⁴ ahead.

“You bastards—!”

Jeok Cheongang’s furious roar rang out as he shot forward first. Mungyeong followed close behind, holding Zhuge Feng firmly in his grasp as the water split to either side.

But before even an instant had passed, the three men were forced to stop simultaneously.

“……!”

The shock was so immense that none of them could speak.

They did not even need to move closer to confirm what had caused it.

At last, the identity of “it” appeared in the distance.

The three men stood frozen, utterly speechless.

Rumble-rumble-rumble!

The cliff collapsed with a deafening roar.

Boulders weighing ten thousand geun³, which had clearly been part of it for centuries, came pouring down like a rain shower, and an enormous spray of water surged upward.

But none of that mattered.

I stared with trembling eyes at “it” rising amid the destruction.

More precisely, I stared at the System window floating above its head.

System

Lv. ??? Mutated Water God Dragon