Chapter 37
Chapter 37
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: Having Too Much (2)
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Her hazy mind finally cleared.
'Wh-what...?'
It felt like her jaw was completely numb, as if paralyzed.
Hwang Jihwa blinked several times, then suddenly felt her breath catch in her throat.
Thwack! Thud-thud-thud! Thwack!
A long object—whether a staff or something else, she couldn't tell—left afterimages as it whipped through the air.
Blood sprayed with every flash, and agonized cries echoed with each strike.
And even more brutal than those cries, savage thuds assaulted Hwang Jihwa's ears, throwing her mind into chaos.
'Gasp!'
Her freshly sharpened focus blurred again in an instant.
Thud-thud-thud! Thwack!
Something vaguely human-shaped was mercilessly beating Yi Jeong.
This was no mere beating. Each blow was so ferocious it seemed it might shatter him to pieces.
Hwang Jihwa's face drained of color.
'El-Elder!'
In her state of extreme shock, she could see it clearly: Yi Jeong's right arm and left leg were especially mangled.
It would have been better if they'd been cleanly severed. Every bone seemed shattered— even if Hua Tuo or Bian Que were reborn, they couldn't fix it.
But it wasn't just his limbs.
From the sounds alone, each strike could splinter a log, yet after enduring so many, Yi Jeong's body somehow held its shape.
How much time passed like that?
"Huff! Huff!"
His breathing ragged, Murong Bi's face was as pale as Hwang Jihwa's.
Only then did his rage seem to subside. He tossed his scabbard aside carelessly and prodded Yi Jeong's body with his foot.
Yi Jeong couldn't even groan.
His entire body was bruised black and blue, and aside from his limbs, no bone was intact.
After such a brutal beating, he'd somehow survived. But those who witnessed it instinctively knew it wasn't because his body was tough—Murong Bi had deliberately held back from killing him.
Though they couldn't fathom how that was possible.
"Hoo."
Murong Bi steadied his breath with the Mixed Origin Heart Method, then glanced at Hwang Jihwa.
She shuddered violently.
Even with her pressure points sealed, her body trembled on its own from sheer terror.
Murong Bi grinned.
"Awake?"
Everyone who saw him felt a chill.
Blood splattered across his face. It was only natural after pulverizing a man.
Yet he smiled with that face and asked if she was awake—like anyone would think he was sane.
"Don't worry. I'm not killing you now."
"...!"
"You're too valuable a hostage to snap your neck on a whim."
Hwang Jihwa spoke in a trembling voice.
"Do you even realize what you've done?!"
Murong Bi wiped his face with his sleeve.
"No need for you to worry about that."
"Y-you attacked the Ten Sword Sect! You killed an elder! You..."
"Don't worry. I don't have a hobby of sending people off alone to keep them lonely."
"...!!"
"It might take time, but I'll send you all off cleanly. You're family, aren't you? Live together, die together."
Utterly consumed by fear, Hwang Jihwa shuddered before her eyes rolled back. Overwhelmed by terror and shock, she'd lost consciousness.
Murong Bi said calmly,
"Gwan Hyeon."
"Y-yes, sir!"
Gwan Hyeon, who had backed up against the wall, hurried over.
"Bury that dead guard and the elder out back."
Gwan Hyeon swallowed hard.
"Um... Young Master."
"What?"
"Th-the Elder Yi Jeong... he's not dead yet."
"Just bury him. He's gonna die anyway."
Not even suggesting a casual meal over drinks would sound this nonchalant.
No one in their right mind would say to bury someone alive.
Conflict flickered across Gwan Hyeon's face. He too had been angry at Hwang Jihwa's group's arrogance, but did it really warrant going this far?
That was when it happened.
"Are you human?"
Her tense voice trembled faintly.
Murong Bi turned to see Murong Suhyang approaching with a pale face.
"Are you even a person?"
"..."
"Bury him after you kill him."
He'd thought she might scold him for the brutality, but no—not that either.
Murong Bi realized it: this was the first time Murong Suhyang had seen someone die in battle.
Her legs must be shaking so badly she could barely stand. Her mind was surely in turmoil.
Yet she managed to say that—regardless of her temperament, her heart was strong.
Murong Bi nodded.
"You're right."
He stepped forward to Yi Jeong and raised his foot.
No farewell words. He had no hobby of chatting with a man already beaten to death's door.
Crack!
Yi Jeong's neck snapped.
The squad members involuntarily turned away. They couldn't bear to watch a life snuffed out so easily.
Murong Bi didn't lecture them not to look away or question how they'd protect the main house with such weak resolve.
'It's only natural.'
Even enemies were human. Taking a life without hesitation was the abnormal path, no matter the reason.
But you had to fight when it was time. If you couldn't, they couldn't stay together, regrettable as that was.
"Jong Hwon."
"Yes? Uh, yes, sir!"
His voice had more discipline than before.
"You, clean up the blood here."
"Understood."
Jong Hwon hurried off to fetch a rag.
Murong Bi addressed the remaining squad members.
"Once Gwan Hyeon and Jong Hwon finish, you three get back to splits."
"...Huh?"
"What? You skipping training?"
The squad members gaped unwittingly.
A brutal fight with blood and flesh flying had just ended, and now training resumed?
Murong Bi grumbled curtly,
"Why the faces? I fought, not you."
"Th-that's true, but..."
"Training with kid gloves is for masters. We're short on time here, aren't we? To beat others, squeeze every second of the time we're given fairly."
"Ah."
"Don't just end up shocked from that fight. Battles like this happen anywhere. What matters is if you can stop guys like that when they come for the main house."
"...!"
"Fights come down to a hair's breadth. Those few drops of sweat you skip today turn that edge into an illusion."
Murong Bi hoisted Hwang Jihwa over his shoulder.
Murong Suhyang asked,
"What about her?"
"Stash her in the shed. Why?"
Murong Suhyang stared at him blankly before turning away.
"Follow me."
She seemed to have steadied herself; her steps showed no tremor.
Murong Bi smiled inwardly.
'She's strong.'
She must still be confused, her emotions unsettled.
Yet her gait was proud. At sixteen, she already knew how to hide her inner turmoil.
'You'll grow even stronger.'
The place Murong Suhyang led him to was her own quarters.
Her residence was small. In contrast, the attached training ground was quite spacious.
Murong Bi could tell: her original quarters had been much larger. She'd deliberately shrunk them to build the training ground. The remnants in the layout and terrain gave it away.
She hadn't said a word, but Murong Suhyang had trained diligently on her own.
"Here."
"Weapon shed, huh."
Training wooden clubs and iron ones, crescent blades, longswords, chopping sabers—every manner of weapon was stocked there.
Not high quality, but every one bore the marks of heavy use. She'd wielded them all herself.
"Good humidity control. Even a hostage can't be left in dampness."
"I see."
"Obviously."
A thick rope lay in one corner—weighted rope dart.
Murong Bi bound Hwang Jihwa's hands and feet with it, then dusted off his palms.
"Done."
"That enough?"
"Sealed three pressure points and her inner energy. Even if she wakes, no escaping."
"..."
"Just to be safe, check morning and night. Let's go."
The two left the shed.
On the way to the patriarch's quarters, a heavy silence enveloped them.
Or rather, Murong Suhyang felt it was heavy.
Murong Bi's mind raced nonstop.
'Going better than expected.'
Handling all those weapons wasn't good?
Nonsense. Experiencing as many as possible before true growth lets you clearly grasp your chosen weapon's traits.
Other sects might not teach that way, but House Murong did.
That was why House Murong made the staff—the root of all weapons—their basic technique.
'No one taught her. She must've experimented alone.'
He admired Murong Suhyang.
Even accounting for blood ties versus outer disciples, she outshone the older Flower Sword Squad members. If he'd met her as Alliance Leader, he'd have patted her head and praised her repeatedly.
They were nearly at the patriarch's quarters when,
"Hey."
"Hm?"
"Where the hell did you learn all those techniques?"
Her face was quite pouty.
She wanted to ask seriously, but awkwardness twisted her expression. Her feelings toward her brother hadn't fully thawed.
Murong Bi chuckled.
"I'll teach you later."
"Who wants your lessons?"
"If you wanna get strong, you'll do anything."
Murong Suhyang started to retort but sighed instead.
"Forget it, no point talking."
As she turned, Murong Bi called out,
"Not coming in?"
"Why would I go with you?"
"Gotta defend me. Big Sis must be worried."
"Hilarious. I won't defend you for the rest of your life. Deal with your messes yourself."
"I don't think I'll mess up."
"Scram."
Chuckling, Murong Bi turned away.
Murong Suhyang, heading to her quarters, sighed and walked back to the patriarch's door.
'...'
Surprisingly, three Flower Sword Squad members were doing splits, front and back. Gwan Hyeon and Jong Hwon must have finished.
She watched them quietly, then grumbled,
"What nonsense under the moonlight."
But why?
Despite the horrific brutality, she wasn't as rattled as expected.
Still confused, but oddly not anxious.
Murong Suhyang knew it was because of that damn troublemaker brother.
But she didn't want to admit it.
"That drunkard picks up some weird techniques somewhere..."
Then, his words resurfaced.
'Gender, talent, environment—they're all different. What matters isn't obsessing over what you can't change, but knowing your strengths and building on them.'
Words that stirred her heart.
Born a woman but yearning to match men in strength, she'd poured blood and sweat into training. She'd heard she had innate talent, but without arts to fully bloom it, she'd struggled more.
Trying all those weapons stemmed from refusing to blame her environment.
'Build on my strengths...'
Chewing over Murong Bi's words, Murong Suhyang soon snorted derisively.
"Talks like a silver-tongued scholar. Anyone'd think he passed the imperial exams, damn it."