Chapter 165 - Bukgung Cheon's Regret
The Sea King's real name was Namgon. He used several aliases to prepare for any eventuality, but he took particular pride in his family name.
From a young age, he'd followed his pirate father through every storm and gale, forging an unbreakable will that eventually made him the leader of their band. At least on the water, he yielded to no one—which was why he called himself the Sea King.
His trial had begun when his son, out on a raiding mission, was captured by the lord of the North.
"Fuck!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Namgon's face glowed red-hot from the forge as he hammered away. He'd won the war against Northwest Murim and assumed that meant his hostage son would be released. But his expectations had been shattered.
Yeon-hoo had ordered him to build a camp here rivaling the Northern Navy's. Finish it properly, and his son would go free. Fail, and he'd hammer for the rest of his life.
Yeon-hoo's voice haunted him like an echo.
"Serving two lords and speaking with a forked tongue? You mangy cur! Arrrgh!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Namgon and his pirates were sweating buckets under Yeon-hoo's command, erecting the camp. With a deadline looming, even Namgon had to swing a hammer—and even in his fifties, his strength outmatched any of his men. It came from countless elixirs plundered on raids.
"Hurry the fuck up, you lot!"
Namgon hurled his hammer at his innocent subordinates, snatched up a jar of liquor, and chugged it like cold water.
Gulp! Gulp!
Liquor spilled over his sweat-slicked torso, but he drained nearly the whole jar before wiping his mouth. Glaring north toward the Iron Blood Family, he snarled like a beast.
"That mangy cur's whelp!"
Grind!
"Boss, the lord's at Wall Thunder Manor right now, yeah? Shouldn't you be cursing west instead?"
"...!"
Whoosh!
"You little shit, get over here."
"Sorry, boss. Gotta grab more timber quick."
Thud!
"Drag that bastard here!"
"Hahaha!"
"Heh heh heh!"
Namgon was the only one fuming. For some reason, his pirates seemed to enjoy the grueling work. That morning, Yeon-hoo had sent wagons of liquor from Wall Thunder Manor. Pirates who lost their minds for booze couldn't complain.
"You worthless pricks!"
Gulp! Gulp!
Draining the jar at last, Namgon leaped into the river to cool his overheated body.
Splash!
His grudge against Yeon-hoo burned as fiercely as ever.
"Just you wait. Someday I'll turn you into fish food. Grind!"
That was when it happened.
"Sea King!"
A pirate came rushing up.
"What is it?"
"Suspicious folks paddling upriver on a skiff down below! Look like martial artists... what do we do?"
"How many?"
"Five."
"Capture 'em and drag 'em here."
"They're martial artists, boss."
"So are we, dumbass! And just five of 'em!"
"...Ah, right. Got it."
Moments later, the pirates dropped their hammers and leaped onto their boats in unison.
"I'm coming too."
"Just rest, boss."
"What if they're masters too tough for you? Get the boat over here!"
"Aye!"
Soon, Namgon sped downriver on a swift boat. How far had they gone when he spotted it—a rickety skiff perfectly matching the description, churning against the current.
"Hmph! Landlubbers through and through. Still, don't rush in—block their path without closing."
"It's just a skiff. Why not swarm it?"
"You test a stone bridge before crossing. Shut up and do as I say!"
"...Aye."
That was when it happened.
"Huh? More boats behind it?"
"Sea King! Hwangha Suryeon's downriver!"
As his lieutenant said, about ten boats emerged from the lower reaches behind the skiff. The fluttering banners confirmed it: Hwangha Suryeon.
"What now? We're disguised as them..."
Namgon's face twisted in dismay. With Hwangha Suryeon here, the skiff was forgotten. His choices boiled down to fight or flee.
That mangy cur ordered a camp here. Fail, and my son's dead.
Grip.
He chose to fight.
"Round up every last man working on the camp—now!"
"Aye!"
His lieutenant dove into the river and dashed across the surface. He sank after a short burst—that was his limit—but soon thrashed onward at tremendous speed toward their comrades.
Namgon bellowed to those around him.
"Forget the skiff! Everyone, pull upriver and form a defensive line! Move!"
"Move!"
The pirates closing on the skiff whipped their boats around and retreated upriver. Namgon eyed Hwangha Suryeon with battle lust.
"Hmph! We don't eat freshwater fish even if it's free. Fine! Let's settle who's king of the river right here!"
* * *
A tiny boat barely big enough for five. Even battling the current looked grueling—and aboard it rode Bukgung Cheon, heir of Geomga, and his four guards.
Bukgung Cheon leaned against the stern, eyes closed, his robe soaked in bloodstains. No rips or tears suggested wounds, though.
Drifting from Father again like this...
Things had gone wrong after he'd saved a woman from rape. Unable to look away, he'd slain her attackers—Hwangha Suryeon warriors. The chase began then. Killing a high-ranking one escalated it, costing two guards their lives.
I wanted to do well...
Bukgung Cheon sighed softly, picturing his furious father, Bukgung So.
That was when his bodyguard Maeong Ho shouted.
"Young master! Hwangha Suryeon astern!"
Bukgung Cheon opened his eyes and looked back. Ten swift boats sliced through the water at terrifying speed.
"Young master, Hwangha Suryeon ahead too!"
He sprang up and rushed to the bow. Six boats blocked their path, slowly tightening the noose. Most were bare-chested, but some wore unmistakable Hwangha Suryeon garb.
"Too many. We should steer for the bank."
"To the bank."
"Aye!"
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Two guards at the stern used palm strikes to boost speed—an astonishing trick. The little boat surged... then stalled, shoved back by the fierce current near shore.
"Abandon ship."
Bukgung Cheon shook his head, nodding toward the bank.
"No. That looks worse."
"...!"
Maeong Ho and the guards' faces hardened. Figures moved through the woods beyond the bank—hundreds, by rough count. Hwangha Suryeon's pursuit force.
"Ah..."
Despair gripped them. No escape now. Even fearless Maeng Ho shook his head.
Bukgung Cheon's gaze on his guards mingled every emotion.
"Sorry. Because of my failure, you all..."
"Don't give up, young master! There must be a way—hold out as long as we can!"
"Right! We've sent word home. Hold till rescue comes! Don't give up!"
They knew it was hopeless. Bukgung Cheon, too, felt the despair deepen.
That was when it happened.
"Young master! The boats blocking ahead are pulling back!"
Indeed, the encircling vessels retreated upriver swiftly.
"Why the sudden..."
It wasn't all. Nearly ten new boats appeared upriver, fanning into battle formation.
"Strange. They wouldn't use tactics like that just for us."
The guards voiced doubts, but Bukgung Cheon shook his head.
"They're blocking the narrows without haste—looks like they want me alive. I'd do the same. A live capture's worth more than a corpse."
Shing.
He drew his sword, meeting each guard's eyes.
"You've suffered serving a fool like me. In your next life... stay far from scum like me."
His wistful smile held a lifetime's regret and remorse.
Thud!
Maeong Ho slammed his greatsword into the deck and stripped off his tunic. Grinning fiercely, tears streamed down his cheeks.
"I'll escort you so no demons reach Yama's throne."
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The other three drew steel. Death's resolve erased fear and despair from their faces.
Bukgung Cheon fought back tears and turned to the approaching foe.
Splash!
The river-specialized swift boats closed to twenty jang.
"You bastard! Bukgung Cheon! Fled well, but this is your end! Like a rat in a trap—pathetic! Hahaha!"
From the bow, Bukgung Cheon eyed the man in his early thirties, swinging a great axe the size of a grown man's back, roaring with laughter. He accepted their doom. His eyes chilled.
Geomga's honor can't fall with me. Even in death, I'll show them our terror.
Hummm. Tat-tat-tat!
A blue glow sparked at his sword tip, racing along the blade until it swelled into a massive sword form.
Maeong Ho cried out.
"... Pa Cheon Noe Geom!"
Why the shock at Pa Cheon Noe Geom?
"If the family head knew, things wouldn't have come to this! Why hide mastering it?"
"...I planned to tell him after the North."
The words stuck in his throat.
And start over. Tell him I'd resolved to be reborn as a man worthy of Father and the clan.
Overwhelmed by remorse, Bukgung Cheon steadied his breath and placed a hand on Maeng Ho's shoulder.
"Maeng Ho."
"...Yes, young master."
"Shall we tour the afterlife together?"
"Why visit a dull place?"
"...!"
Not Maeng Ho's—a clear, resonant voice rang in their ears.