Chapter 117 - Hunting the Big Game (2)
Ambush was one of the surest ways for the weak to kill the strong. No matter how skilled a master might be, a moment of carelessness could lead to a fatal strike—and a single blow might end their life. How much more certain would death be if that master ambushed someone weaker than themselves?
Thwack!
The head of the blue-robed man who had been terrorizing the Hwasan Sect exploded without a trace. Blood and brains splattered across the face of the blue-robed leader standing right in front of him. The gruesome death, without even a scream, instantly shifted the atmosphere in the hall.
Of course, that was just the beginning.
"Gah!"
"Kek!"
The Golden Merchant Group's experts began clutching their throats and staggering. The sudden turn of events stunned both the Hwasan Sect and the Golden Merchant Group alike.
Flash!
A streak of white light shot toward another blue-robed man. Having witnessed his comrade's death, the blue-robed warrior used his movement technique to retreat and block the attack.
Boom!
With a sound like an explosion, the blue-robed man's body was hurled backward mercilessly. Scrrch! The ground where his feet had dragged in a desperate bid to resist bore two deep furrows. His eyes bulged wide.
What had repelled him wasn't a person—it was a sword. The blade hovered in midair like a living creature, taut and ready to spring at any moment.
"Igi Sword Technique!"
A groan-like cry burst from the blue-robed man's lips. Then, a voice more merciless than the grim reaper itself whispered into his ear.
"This isn't the time to be standing around gawking."
"……!"
The blue-robed man couldn't even turn his head. Instead, he jerked it downward toward his chest.
Thwack!
A hand burst through his chest, clutching his still-throbbing heart.
"Grk."
The blue-robed man collapsed limply. The red-robed man who had been commanding the troops before the blue-robes appeared glared with eyes torn wide in rage.
"R-Retreat!"
When panic strikes, judgment and focus inevitably falter. That was the red-robed man's state now. He ordered a retreat, yet flung himself toward the spot where the heart-ripped blue-robed man had stood—likely the shortest escape route.
But Yeon-hoo was there.
Having just revealed himself after ambushing and slaying two formidable blue-robes, Yeon-hoo gazed at the oncoming red-robed man and casually flicked his sleeve. The sword still hovering in the air streaked like lightning toward the red-robed man's occiput.
Thwack!
"Guh!"
The blade pierced straight through the red-robed man's skull.
Yeon-hoo turned to Cheong-gong.
"How long are you going to stand there dazed?"
"……!"
Clang!
"Argh!"
"Ugh!"
Only then did Cheong-gong's clouded eyes and ears clear. Jin-myeong's blood-soaked face stabbed into his vision like a dagger.
And behind him, the Mudan Sect swordsmen assaulting the Golden Merchant Group's experts.
Whoosh!
Cheong-gong finally moved. His body, rigid with despair at the thought of losing all his disciples, now flowed with supple speed and lethal precision, as if it had never stiffened at all. His strikes, venting his fury, were more ruthless than anyone's.
Then someone appeared before him. As Cheong-gong's sword unleashed a merciless sword-gang, the figure grinned.
"We're on the same side."
It was Yuksoon.
* * *
What could have been a massacre for the Hwasan Sect ended in a crushing victory. Not a single Golden Merchant Group survivor remained. A few had surrendered, but Yeon-hoo refused to spare them.
"We're sorry we're late."
Jin-myeong bowed to Cheong-gong. Cheong-gong grasped his hand and spoke gravely.
"Nonsense. You arrived in time to prevent more of my disciples from dying."
He then gazed up at Yeon-hoo atop the great tree and asked,
"Who is that man?"
"I'm not entirely sure myself."
"……!"
"Here's what happened……."
Jin-myeong explained the situation with a troubled expression, keeping it brief. Once finished, Cheong-gong clasped his fists in salute toward Yeon-hoo and bowed.
"We are forever in your debt for saving our lives."
Cheong-myeong and the other Hwasan warriors bowed as well. Yeon-hoo regarded them impassively.
"Do you plan to continue the operation?"
"Thanks to our benefactor, we've suffered almost no losses. Of course we do."
"Then catch your breath and stand by."
"Understood."
Cheong-gong approached his disciples to reorganize their ranks, then quenched his thirst with water. Watching this, Jin-myeong looked somewhat flustered.
'This means command naturally falls to him now.'
His greatest concern on the way here had been whether Cheong-gong would accept Yeon-hoo. Even with Cheong-gong's mild and reasonable nature, handing command to a complete stranger was unthinkable.
Yet the issue resolved itself all too easily—thanks to Yeon-hoo's overwhelming might.
'I knew he was a master, but this level…….'
Jin-myeong gazed up at Yeon-hoo, standing tall atop the tree, staring north. Relief at the immense aid to their operation mingled with the heavy weight in his chest from recalling Yeon-hoo's brutal strikes in battle. A chill accompanied it.
But only for a moment. Jin-myeong bit his lip and steeled his gaze.
'Dead is dead, whether quick or slow. You can't judge a man by his mercy in killing. I'll trust him to the end.'
* * *
Yeon-hoo eyed the Golden Merchant Group's carriages. During the fight, they had descended to within reading distance of the banners. Up close, the procession seemed even larger. The number of escorts around the carriages looked twice what Jin-myeong had described.
Swish.
Yuksoon climbed up beside him.
"What now? I've used up all my poison."
"Time to unleash that hidden skill of yours."
"……You knew?"
"Did you think I wouldn't?"
Chuckle. Yuksoon scratched his head with his usual bright smile.
"I never meant to deceive you."
Indeed. Beyond his poison arts, Yuksoon had one trump card: Golden Diamond Claw. Known as the demon's claw technique, legend held that at sufficient inner energy attainment, it could rend even iron.
Yuksoon glanced at his hands with an awkward expression.
'Haven't used it in ages. Wonder if it'll perform properly.'
He recalled the day he first met Yeon-hoo. A man afraid of nothing in the world, he had charged recklessly—nearly sending himself to the afterlife. Defeat led to a lord-vassal oath. Back then, he hadn't used Golden Diamond Claw, judging it futile even if he had. He still didn't regret that choice.
'If I'd used it, I'd be dead instead. Back then, my lord forgave no one once angered.'
The memory still sent chills down his spine.
"Yuksoon."
"Yes?"
"Call them up."
"Who……?"
"One each."
"Ah, yes."
Yuksoon looked down and beckoned Jin-myeong and Cheong-gong. Moments later, they climbed atop the tree.
"Listen carefully to what I say from now on."
Yeon-hoo explained the plan. Throughout, Cheong-gong and Jin-myeong listened intently, eyes gleaming, offering no objections.
Watching, Yuksoon grinned.
'Who wouldn't yield before my lord? Even that fearsome Yacha-king and Demon Leader brothers tucked tail after one encounter. Heh heh heh.'
Yuksoon thought of Akso and Baek-un back in Baekya-beol. Before meeting Yeon-hoo, they were the ones he feared most in the entire martial world.
Finishing the explanation, Yeon-hoo eyed them and added,
"An operation succeeds on a foundation of trust. Can I count on you?"
"We'll give our all."
"Mudan Sect will as well……."
Jin-myeong adjusted his speech to match Cheong-gong's deference. Speaking casually would seem disrespectful. But Jin-myeong wasn't one to yield easily.
"As you say, trust must come first. To that end, shouldn't you at least reveal your identity now……?"
"I'll tell you after success."
"But you said trust comes first?"
"Didn't you come this far believing in me?"
"More like believing in your skills than the man."
"Then believe to the end."
"……."
Jin-myeong was speechless. Yeon-hoo stared him down, then turned to Cheong-gong.
"In this operation, unlike before, I'll need to use my full power. Think of it as one of your disciples dying every time you hesitate even a moment."
Cheong-gong was inwardly shocked.
'How did he……?'
In truth, he hadn't unleashed his full strength in the previous battle. The unprecedented crisis and despair of his disciples' slaughter had held him back. And only he could know that—until he admitted it himself.
Yet Yeon-hoo had pierced it precisely, as if he'd delved into his very soul.
'Who the hell is this man?'
Yeon-hoo's identity suddenly intrigued him. Surely a transcendent master who had returned to youth. No young man could wield such terrifying arts.
At that moment, Yuksoon's voice deepened Cheong-gong's doubts.
"My lord, they're picking up speed."
'My lord……?'