Chapter 51
Chapter 51
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 51
Chapter Title: Shadow Under the Eaves (1)
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"Interesting."
The gaunt old man looked exceedingly irritable.
Yet his eyes brimmed with sharp intensity, and an extraordinary sharpness emanated from him. It was a unique aura no one could afford to underestimate.
"So that wastrel from the Murong Clan pinned down Hwang Gyu?"
"Yes, sir."
Ga Suk bowed his head, his face taut with tension.
The man, Hong Junak of the Hong Sword Clan, tapped lightly on a document.
"And before that, it was that Murong Bi bastard who brought down the Black Tiger Gang?"
"That's the presumption."
"Presumption?"
Sweat dripped from Ga Suk's brow amid the tension, but he held his tongue.
Hong Junak stared silently at Ga Suk before flicking the document with his finger.
Pewk!
The paper shot like a dagger, grazing Ga Suk's ear and embedding itself in the pavilion floor.
The limp sheet fluttered back down, covering the floor—half of it still stuck in the wood.
"Unlike you to handle things so slowly."
Drip...
Blood seeped from the sliced earlobe.
Ga Suk swallowed involuntarily.
'Paper Blade Technique.'
It referred to the art of infusing paper with internal energy and hurling it like a knife—a feat even seasoned masters wouldn't dare attempt.
A supreme skill possible only for so-called peak experts.
'As expected...'
People said the Ten Sword Sect Leader Hwang Gyu and Hong Sword Clan Patriarch Hong Junak were evenly matched.
They were wrong.
Hong Junak was far stronger than anyone imagined.
'Even five masters on Hwang Gyu's level would struggle to scratch the patriarch.'
With such prowess, he'd concealed his power for years, clashing covertly with the Ten Sword Sect—a man who could reduce it to ashes in a single night if he chose.
That was what made him truly formidable.
The reason Ga Suk had sworn loyalty to Hong Junak was precisely this man's patience in wielding such overwhelming strength.
"My apologies."
"I like that you don't make excuses. Your worth isn't so low that I'd discard you over one mistake."
"I am grateful."
"We'll assume it was Murong Bi's doing for now. Investigate thoroughly and give me a solid report by tonight."
"As you command, Patriarch."
"Well, you handle that part as you see fit."
A peculiar smile crept across Hong Junak's face as he leaned against the pavilion railing.
"So that scrawny punk was hiding skills like that?"
"They say he overwhelmed Hwang Gyu head-on."
"Overwhelmed, huh..."
"At that level, he's at least stronger than Young Master Ina."
Hong Junak nodded.
"That boy Ina's been awfully full of himself lately, thinking his skills had improved."
"Even so, Young Master Ina has no peers among his generation."
"And now a rival shows up."
"Yes."
A hint of displeasure crossed Hong Junak's otherwise composed face.
"He's my son, but he can be frustrating. What's the point of being the best in this city? The martial world is crawling with juniors who could crush him."
"Young Master Ina is still young. A bit of arrogance now and then isn't so bad, I think."
"Why's that?"
"Because true competitive spirit ignites when that arrogance becomes a shackle."
Hong Junak chuckled dryly.
"Speaking from experience?"
"Yes."
"I heard you never even had the skill to be arrogant in the first place."
"How embarrassing."
"True enough. You were always far too worldly for an assassin."
Ga Suk muttered inwardly.
'It's a prejudice to think assassins have no greed or emotions.'
Of course, he couldn't say it aloud.
"Anyway, things are taking a strange turn. I planned to loosen the noose, pluck a few choice bits, and devour them slowly."
"With the sect leader and finance elder positions vacant, all elders gone, and public opinion at its worst, I'm worried some might question our resolve if we don't strike the Ten Sword Sect now."
"If heaven hastens fate's timing, we can't ignore it."
Ga Suk flinched despite himself.
Hong Junak had great patience, but equal ambition. No doubt he was inwardly celebrating.
'Heaven, huh...'
This opportunity wasn't from heaven.
It was practically handed to them by the Murong Clan—by Murong Bi himself.
Ga Suk felt an odd unease. What Hong Junak called heaven was really Murong Bi, as if Bi were shaking the world in heaven's stead.
'Ridiculous.'
Murong Bi's exploits were so audacious they'd even overwhelmed him a bit.
"Can't move right away without losing face, so we'll start tomorrow. You make sure to investigate their businesses thoroughly."
"As you command."
"You're dismissed."
Ga Suk bowed deeply and descended from the pavilion.
Hong Junak watched his retreating back with a mocking glint in his eyes.
"What an amusing fellow."
He probably thought he'd hidden his greed well.
"How can a man who rose from grunt to assassin instructor be so avaricious?"
That was why Hong Junak hadn't even told Ga Suk about the eldest son's secrets—among other things he kept from him.
Hong Junak gazed at the sky beyond the railing.
"...Autumn's nearly at its end."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Gah!"
"Ughhh!"
Groans echoed across the Murong Clan's central training ground.
There, eleven members of the Flower Sword Squad—including Jin Gwang—sweated profusely.
Some split their legs front to back, others side to side.
One lay face-down with arms folded, rolling side to side using only his head; another sat and stood repeatedly, balancing on a single bare big toe after removing his shoes.
Such training was rare even in the upright orthodox sects that prized dignity, let alone the wild unorthodox ones.
"Huuuugh!"
"I-I'm dying..."
"Tzzzzzz!"
It was a sight straight out of a farce.
Seok Ung, watching from the side, clicked his tongue.
"Is this training too?"
He'd never seen such practice even at the Murong main house in Yoneung Province.
Their groans and cries were uniquely bizarre, blending into an oddly harmonious chorus.
'Did they rehearse the screams in advance?'
As if.
'Well, it's a sight worth watching.'
Perhaps it stemmed from the subtly changed atmosphere in the clan.
The squad members' expressions were different, for one.
They looked half-dead with exhaustion, yet burned with determination to see it through.
Their eyes especially—sharper than before. They'd endured the grueling stamina drills with grit, but now a fiercer resolve drove them toward a new goal.
'That's the difference.'
The old drills had been tough but familiar.
These were entirely new, making them exponentially harder—and the sense of accomplishment greater.
Seok Ung murmured with a smile.
"People really do need fresh challenges, don't they?"
Then Old Man Gwak, watching beside him, spoke up.
"It's not just the training content that's changed."
"Oh?"
Though a servant, Old Man Gwak had been the previous previous patriarch's guard, so Seok Ung always showed him respect.
"Didn't they witness the young master's martial prowess?"
"They did."
"Warriors admire the strong."
That very strong one had proven his might and even endorsed these drills himself.
For these talentless, mediocre men trapped in monotonous routines, the training was painful yet exhilarating.
"True enough. It's not just warriors. Anyone gets spurred on by someone showing unimaginable skill in their field."
"Heh heh, indeed."
"Most people admire superiors but end up self-pitying, settling for 'I have no talent.' That's the majority."
"A pity."
"And the young master was weaker than any of them at first. For him to crush even the Ten Sword Sect Leader—how could they not ignite?"
Old Man Gwak nodded with a smile.
Seok Ung's smiling face gradually turned serious.
"Old Man Gwak."
"Yes?"
"How are things now?"
A shadow crossed Old Man Gwak's face.
"I'm trying."
"..."
"I'm sorry, Chief Steward."
"Don't say that. You're the one suffering most."
"Heh heh."
Seok Ung sensed the irrepressible frustration in the old man's low chuckle.
'Hang in there.'
No matter how close, he couldn't fully grasp Old Man Gwak's circumstances.
Though he knew the basics—why Gwak couldn't train the guards, and how he suffered most for it, not the acting patriarch or himself.
Seok Ung forced a smile.
"I'd love to watch till dawn, but duties pile up. I'll head out—business is backed up."
"Take care. Oh, and the acting patriarch?"
"Raising her condition with meditation. Leaving me to drop dead alone."
Despite the words, Seok Ung's face was brighter than it had been in years.
"Heaven watches over us. Truly fortunate."
"Whether heaven does or not, I know the young master is striving."
Seok Ung bowed.
"I'll be off then."
"Fare well."
Seok Ung headed to the patriarch's quarters.
Alone now, Old Man Gwak's gaze on the squad grew intent.
'No matter how many times I look...'
He'd never seen this training before.
But he understood its purpose.
'Boosting flexibility and elasticity... especially concentrating awareness on the lower body joints.'
He swallowed dryly.
'If I twisted the Flood Dragon Combat Form to extremes, would it resemble this?'
The Flood Dragon Combat Form was calisthenics all Murong Clan children learned mandatorily.
Specialized for joint flexibility and muscle elasticity—called gymnastics, but really a white fist technique applicable to punches and kicks.
Best from childhood, but even adults could build balanced muscle foundations in half a year.
'Is this coincidence? Or...'
Then—
Clang!
The rear gate burst open.
"Huff! Huff!"
"Hey, we're here. Just a bit more."
"Huuugh! Huuuh!"
Murong Suhyang had slight sweat on her brow and neck, but Murong Bi was drenched like he'd been caught in a downpour—all sweat.
He looked utterly spent: arms dangling limply at his sides, legs wobbling unstably.
Finally reaching the training ground's edge, Murong Bi doubled over, gasping.
Murong Suhyang flicked sweat from behind her ear with relish and smacked her lips.
"You okay? Why not just collapse?"
"F-Fine... Urp!"
He dry-heaved, clearly pushed to his limit.
Murong Suhyang sighed.
"I figured, but your stamina's trash. How'd you beat Hwang Gyu with this body?"
"Internal energy. Cough, cough!"
"Water?"
"F-Food... need food."
Normally she'd call him a pig, but he looked half-dead, so she couldn't.
"Tch. Hold on."
He tried to endure but crumpled to his knees.
"D-Damn it."
Then Old Man Gwak extended a hand.
"Up you get."
"Huff! Thanks."
Grabbing hold, Murong Bi staggered up, steadying his breath.
Old Man Gwak eyed him quietly before asking casually.
"By chance, is the next drill the Dull Arc Form?"