Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Rumor
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- When Young Master Do extended his fist, thunder roared, and the Heaven-Rending Legion went tumbling in an instant.
- Even the elder expert of the Hundred-Li Clan got sent flying with a single punch.
- It started with the White Sword Sect. Their sect leader got smashed into the ground with one punch, too.
- In front of the Heaven-Rending Legion, what do the White Sword Sect or Hundred-Li Clan even matter?
- That's exactly what I'm saying.
- I hear the Iron Lion Sect's sect leader and disciples have vanished.
- Come on, use your head. They're all secluded, mastering the Iron Lions' supreme techniques. Just wait and see. When the Iron Lion Sect's sect leader and disciples emerge from training, the world will witness the sect's greatness.
- Exactly! That's what I've been saying!
Whenever people gathered, they chattered endlessly about the Iron Lion Sect. Do Cheon's feats were exaggerated beyond measure, spreading tales that the sect was on the verge of reclaiming its former glory. And with the added rumor that the Iron Lion Sect had opened Dongting Lake's waterways, talk of the sect showed no signs of dying down.
Then, one night.
Figures slipped over the Iron Lion Sect's walls amid the thick blanket of darkness. There were about thirty of them. Despite leaping the wall in unison, not a sound escaped them. The moment their feet touched down on the other side, they vanished into the shadows of the nearest building with peerless lightness skills, clearly the work of highly trained experts.
Black masks and deep ink-black night clothes.
They checked the nearest pavilion first. Confirming it empty, they darted from shadow to shadow toward the sect's inner sanctum.
Even with thirty moving at once, the surroundings remained as silent as the dead of night.
Moments later, the night raiders halted before one building.
It was the workers' quarters of the Iron Lion Sect. A few of the raiders pulled something from their bosoms and blew it through a window crack. The dark interior filled with fine powder. But a breeze from somewhere swept it away unnoticed by the raiders.
The night raiders pressed on. Soon, they neared the sect's heart.
A massive pavilion.
But it lay hideously half-destroyed.
The Warriors' Hall, partially wrecked by the Wise King's intrusion. The raiders skirted past it toward the next pavilion.
Whish!
Something shot out from the Warriors' Hall shadows. Though faint, the raiders' honed senses snapped to alert. In that instant, one was seized and dragged into the dark.
No scream. They were trained to conquer pain and fear.
Whish!
Another faint whoosh of air.
The raiders tensed, senses on edge.
Slash!
One raider swung a dagger from his sleeve. Something had hurtled toward him. But with a heavy thunk!, his arm rebounded, and in that gap, something coiled around his upper body, yanking him away in a flash.
Scree!
A short, sharp whistle echoed from somewhere. A raider in matching garb appeared on the opposite pavilion's roof. The others swiftly retreated without a sound. But not empty-handed—they hurled leather pouches into the Warriors' Hall shadows in unison.
Shwick-shwick-shwick!
The rooftop figure unleashed a barrage of hidden weapons. Piercing whistles tore into the shadows.
And moments later.
Whish!
Something burst from the shadows toward the rooftop raider. He met it with an open-palm strike. But with a boom!, his palm blast shattered, and a sudden coil wrapped his neck, dragging him off in one pull.
Thud!
The raider hit the ground hard.
The other raiders sprang up, scanning the dark.
His palm throbbed like a ragged cloth, but life mattered more. Yet his eyes saw only thick shadow—no trace of his captor.
"What is this? Poison?"
A voice from the dark, and light objects floated toward him: the pouches his men had thrown and his own volley of hidden weapons.
"Sl-sleeping powder."
"So you didn't intend to kill?"
"That's right."
"Lucky for you."
"......"
"Since you're not here to kill, one question. Who are you?"
"......"
"You should know who you're fighting, at least."
"......"
"Two more over here. Torture might loosen tongues. Not that I know torture techniques. So I'll just pull fingers off one by one."
The raider flinched at the threat.
Rumors swirled among info-sensitive gangs that the Iron Lion Sect's great disciple had yanked off Ha Gun-pyo's fingers—the Heaven-Rending Legion's disciple.
"Iron Divine Dragon?"
The raider asked in a deep, middle-aged voice.
"Iron Divine Dragon?"
"That's what they call Do Cheon of the Iron Lion Sect."
"I'm Do Cheon, sure. But don't call me that. This is the Iron Lion Sect. No dragons here."
"Nicknames aren't rejected just because you dislike them."
"Anyway, not in front of me."
"Understood."
"Good. Let's wrap this up nicely while the mood's good. Who are you people?"
The middle-aged raider hesitated, then answered.
"Black Night Heaven."
"Black Night Heaven? Assassins for hire?"
"Yes."
"Sneaking over the walls to knock us out and steal a martial art or two?"
The middle-aged raider stayed silent.
Do Cheon chuckled.
"Fine. I said one question, so no more. Take them and go."
As his words ended, two raiders tumbled from the dark to his feet. The middle-aged one checked—they breathed steadily, no serious harm.
"Tell your Black Night Heaven master this: better come see me soon. The longer they wait, the steeper the price. Now go if you understand."
The middle-aged raider, knowing he couldn't match Do Cheon, abandoned even caution. He gathered his men and withdrew. Once gone, Do Cheon emerged from the shadows.
"Didn't expect them to target the workers. Close call."
Do Cheon sighed, heading to the workers' building. He'd cleared the powder, but who knew.
Morning had long broken.
Steward Seo grimaced at his pounding head as he opened his eyes. Always strict with sleep and wake times, waking with such pain was a first.
"What's wrong? Something with my body?"
He muttered from his bed.
"Not that. Get up if you're awake."
Do Cheon's voice.
Seo jolted upright. Do Cheon sat at the table, sipping tea.
"When did you arrive?"
"Tea first. Clears the head."
Sensing something unknown, Seo slid from bed and sat opposite. Do Cheon poured as he spoke.
"Assassins last night. Sleeping powder in here—everyone's just waking."
"Fortunate."
"Yeah, but my fault. Cleared it quick, but if it were lethal poison..."
"No one can guard everyone all the time."
"Still."
"Hire some warriors?"
"Guess so. Planned elite only, but need to rethink. Drink."
"Yes."
Seo sipped, then set down his cup.
"Big sects need all types. Lions to roar at the world, warriors to guard home."
"With me and the Iron Lions, who'd dare invade?"
"Shall I look into it?"
"Proper low-rank warriors possible?"
"Low-ranks differ from elites. Hard to find trained ones from scratch."
"How, then?"
"Find trainers too."
"People like that exist?"
"World's full of specialists."
"Fine world."
"Rumor Lord's worldly knowledge is limited."
"Fair. Makes you invaluable, Steward Seo. Rest today."
"Can't."
"Morning at least. All workers too. I'll handle breakfast—meet at the hall in half a shichen."
"You sure?"
"About what?"
"Nearly fifty here now. Feeding that many ain't easy."
"Someone can handle it. Rest easy. Hiring warriors... later. Just rest, no worries."
Knowing Do Cheon hated long talks, Seo nodded agreement.
Do Cheon sought Yeop Mun-wi, the fourth martial uncle.
"Have you and the uncles handle breakfast today."
"Gladly. Stagnant lately—time to unwind and show skills."
Yeop headed to the kitchen cheerfully.
Do Cheon called Yi Yeol, Iron Mountain, Little Sparrow, and Young Ki to help prepare fifty portions. No one grumbled much—save Iron Mountain's occasional mutters about kitchen work not suiting him.
Yoo Geon's office door burst open. Only his father, Yoo Jang-hae, entered like that.
"What now?"
Rare leisure; Yoo Geon rose to greet.
"Heard?"
"About what?"
"Elder Shang's buying up Poyang Lake ships."
"Elder Shang?"
"Yes."
"How many?"
"Over half."
"How many did you buy, Father?"
"Just three—kept it quiet."
"Quiet?"
"Poyang Lake's waterways belong to the Hundred-Li Clan, no matter what. Ships 'donate' thanks for protection, but really, Hundred-Li owns them."
"How'd Elder Shang buy, then? Does he not know what you know?"
"That's the puzzle. Maybe he sniffed our plans and jumped in. Remember him moving the Hundred-Li last time?"
"Yes."
"But why spend extra to buy ahead? Blocking me costs him."
"Must have reasons."
Yoo Geon replied calmly.
Acting like a mere spectator, Yoo Jang-hae's brows shot up.
"It's not your money—too relaxed?"
As Yoo Jang-hae raised his voice.
"Elder Shang's here."
The report startled Yoo Jang-hae. Yoo Geon calmly called,
"Bring him in."
Door opened; Elder Shang entered, hands behind back.
"Tsk tsk! Businessman holed in a back room—how'll you know the world's turns?"
"Not here to teach, so what's up?"
Yoo Geon asked politely.
Elder Shang tsked more, then eyed Yoo Jang-hae.
"No beating around—you know. Sell me your ships. Half price."
"Elder Shang!"
Yoo Jang-hae glared. Ignoring, Elder Shang told Yoo Geon,
"Offer ends today. Tomorrow, drops ten percent daily."
Repaying Yoo Geon's past slight, Elder Shang beamed triumphantly.
"Hand over Father's ships."
"What?"
"Only way to cut losses."
Yoo Jang-hae knew. Loss was half the three ships' cost—painful, but not crippling for Yoo Merchant Group.
His fidgeting stemmed from the Poyang plan with Do Cheon crumbling before start, threatening Yangtze dominance.
Confirming Iron Lions' arts recovered, he'd pinned hopes on their grand scheme.
"Won't push if no. Time favors me."
Elder Shang left, ignoring the anxious Yoo Jang-hae.
"What now?"
His face showed loss and fret.
"What else? He bit the bait—wait patiently."
"Bait?"
"Do Cheon's probably at Hundred-Li Clan now."
"Hundred-Li? What's brewing?"
"Something fun. Chase and sell at half— you'll see."
Yoo Geon smiled faintly.