Shaking the Foundations (5)
“Deputy Leader, urgent news.”
“Urgent news?”
Curiosity flickered across Yang Cheon’s face. Baek Seo’s expression was as impassive as ever. But the aura he carried churned like stormy waves. He was clearly shaken.
“What’s the report?”
“Moyong Gun, the head of the Moyong family, has entered Hunan Province.”
“……The Moyong patriarch?”
Yang Cheon’s eyes flashed sharply. The Moyong family had originally taken root in the desolate eastern reaches of Liaoning Province, the northernmost edge of the Central Plains. Three hundred years ago, after the Blood Cult uprising, they had relocated to Hunan and established themselves there. In other words, Hunan now housed both the black path alliance of Muk Ryong Bu and one of the Six Great Families, the Moyong clan. Their territories were far apart for now, so clashes were unlikely, but when their powers grew, conflict was inevitable.
“Shouldn’t the Moyong patriarch be at the White Path Martial Alliance?”
“Indeed.”
“Crossing into Hunan out of the blue in these times? Any word on why?”
“We couldn’t ascertain the reason. But he’s traveling alone, at a leisurely pace southward, so it seems he has business at the main family estate.”
“Hmm.”
Yang Cheon stroked his chin beard thoughtfully.
The Moyong patriarch.
He had thoroughly investigated the Six Great Families—the pinnacle martial clans of the era, originally seven. Especially just before they settled in Hunan.
The Moyong family is strong.
Unlike the Nine Great Sects and Eight Schools, where Shaolin and Wudang reigned supreme, the Six Great Families had no clear hierarchy. But Yang Cheon knew the truth: among them, the Moyong clan was among the most dangerous. If the ancient Nine Great Clans still stood, it might be different, but in this age, the top martial families were Moyong and Namgung. Namgung had the Sword Emperor, granting them immense fame and influence, while Moyong’s raw power was vast.
A force that could pose a real threat.
To put it bluntly, if Yang Cheon himself moved, even the mighty Moyong family couldn’t withstand him easily. That was the caliber of those listed among the Thirteen Seats of Heavenly Might. Transcendents who could face great sects alone. But a leader’s position was heavy; acting recklessly and getting injured could cripple the organization. Thus, assuming Yang Cheon didn’t intervene personally, the Moyong clan was a force even the current Muk Ryong Bu couldn’t ignore.
Yang Cheon, lost in thought, finally spoke.
“Traveling south alone, without escorts?”
“Yes. At least on the surface, no escorts were visible.”
“Looks like he’s heading straight to the family estate.”
“The probability is very high.”
“Hmm.”
A subtle spark of interest lit Yang Cheon’s face.
“Moyong patriarch…… the Moyong patriarch……”
Moving without escorts meant he was unaware of Muk Ryong Bu’s presence in Hunan. If he knew, he wouldn’t be so bold.
“Baek Seo, what’s your take?”
“……”
“A truly tempting prey, wouldn’t you say?”
Baek Seo bowed his head.
“Indeed, but……”
Uncharacteristically, he trailed off. Yang Cheon smacked his lips.
“Still too early, eh?”
“That is my assessment.”
“No, you’re right. Our headquarters’ strength is still lacking. I could crush him if I wanted, but there’s no need to play a risky hand.”
“Precisely.”
Yang Cheon nodded.
“Understood. Tell the underlings—no clashes.”
“As you command.”
“But keep tabs on the Moyong patriarch’s movements continuously.”
“Of course.”
“You’re dismissed.”
Baek Seo bowed and exited the Muk Ryong Hall.
“Heh, what a tease.”
Yang Cheon tapped the armrest idly.
“Having prey ripe for the taking right in front, yet holding back for the future.”
It was maddeningly frustrating. Still, with one lucky boon walking right into his lap, it wasn’t all bad. For now, he’d content himself with the new talent acquired.
That was when it happened.
Thump!
“……?!”
Yang Cheon’s face hardened. He glanced down at his chest.
Thump. Thump.
His heart suddenly pounded fiercely.
Swoosh.
He parted his robes and examined his chest. At the center gleamed a golden palm print.
The wounds from that time had fully healed, but this mark lingered.
Yang Cheon’s eyes darkened.
“……Saneum.”
A memory he loathed to recall. He closed his eyes and scanned his internals.
No anomalies.
Indeed. His five viscera, six bowels, meridians, channels, and acupoints were all normal. Yet an inexplicable unease gnawed at him. Occasionally, his heart would race like this without reason. No bodily issue explained it.
Still hung up on that duel?
Fair enough—a debt that must be repaid. Yang Cheon smiled bitterly and spoke.
“Bring wine. The batch from Sa-eum.”
He’d grit his teeth, drink the enemy’s gift, and stoke his resolve.
* * *
“What the hell? What’s going on?”
Paeryul stared at Yeon Hojeong.
“Those guys for real?”
“They are.”
“Then why are they……?!”
Dang Sang-a shouted.
“This isn’t the time for chit-chat! They’re already twenty formations deep!”
Fast. A light, aggressive movement technique, not just to intimidate but with real killing intent.
Yeon Hojeong’s eyes deepened.
Where did elites like these come from?
None matched Yeon Hojeong, Paeryul, or Dang Sang-a. Yet over forty were peak masters, and the rest easily first-rate. The thick killing aura they exuded spoke of countless battles. Even major sects couldn’t muster this easily. It required a faction renowned across a province.
In short, the force they faced rivaled an entire sect’s assault.
Moyong Gun.
Yeon Hojeong’s pupils slowly tinged red.
Why? Was this necessary?
Dang Sang-a cried urgently.
“Army Leader!”
Whoosh!
In that instant, Yeon Hojeong exploded forward with terrifying momentum. Blazing with fiery killing intent, the spear in his grip whipped up a cyan vortex.
Boom!
Splat!
“Kuaaaak!”
“Aaaack!”
Horrid screams echoed through the forest. A forward thrust loaded with twisting silk power—a devastating single flash. The spear’s gale shredded three charging foes, sending two limbs flying.
Thud!
The earth-shaking step was as exhilarating as ever. Not quite the Tiger King’s overwhelming might of the White Tiger’s Domain, but the divine dragon’s tread stirred whirlpools in lakes—fluid like flowing water, brimming with mystical aura.
Yeon Hojeong’s spear breathed fire.
Splat! Splat!
The ferocious spear swept left and right three zhang. Thrusting and whirling, it demolished everything—a destructive spear art.
Azure Dragon Art, manifesting the Dragon Flock Three Forms through spear. Originally evasion and counter-focused, but Yeon Hojeong’s realm transcended limits. Even with Azure Dragon Art, he unleashed devastating attacks.
Something’s off.
Suppressing the onslaught, Yeon Hojeong couldn’t shake his doubt.
A third party knowing our plan? No. This is Moyong Gun’s design. These are definitely his planted men.
Undeterred by the peerless spear master’s onslaught, they pressed on. Yeon Hojeong’s eyes deepened.
“Uwaaaah!”
“Kill them all! Kill!”
“Don’t fall back!”
Foaming madness. Yet terror masked their faces—fear of Yeon Hojeong’s merciless art. Still, they charged, killing intent fiercer than before.
That they’re Moyong Gun’s is obvious from the carriages and wagons behind. A third party would’ve looted already.
Not mere bandits, nor outsiders. Unfathomable.
Yeon Hojeong scanned the warriors’ faces swiftly.
Fear, anxiety, rage, malice……
Splitting instants within instants. A glint flashed in Yeon Hojeong’s eyes as he read their emotions.
Hope?!
Yes. They charged with hope, despite certain death.
Too unexpected—he doubted his eyes.
What the hell……
Then—
Thwip! Thwip!
Ten daggers embedded precisely in the foreheads of warriors inches from Yeon Hojeong.
“Watch out!”
Flash!
Three warriors crumpled before Paeryul’s flashy strong sword. Not fancy spear art—pure power and speed, practical lethality.
“Hey! What are these bastards?!”
Paeryul swung his blade, yelling.
“This ain’t what we were told!”
That was when—
“……!!”
Yeon Hojeong’s eyes widened.
No way.
A sudden thought struck.
Moyong Gun, you bastard—could it be?
Clang!
A warrior’s blade cleaved toward Yeon Hojeong’s head. Had he not instinctively raised his spear shaft, his skull would’ve split. A razor-close call.
Yeon Hojeong eyed his attacker with shaken gaze. The man’s eyes bulged bloodshot, hellbent on killing him.
……Damn it.
No, it couldn’t be. But their skill, desperation, the clash of malice and hope fueled his suspicion.
Yeon Hojeong gritted his teeth. Words flashed through his mind: mission, circumstances, pity, denial.
“Hey! Yeon……!”
Boom!
With monstrous footwork, Yeon Hojeong roared.
“Uwaaaap!!”
Rumble!
The savage horizontal sweep hurled a dozen warriors backward. Herculean art—not piercing, but battering with the shaft, akin to uprooting mountains and blanketing the world with qi.
Yeon Hojeong shouted.
“Be careful!”
No names—prepare for the worst.
Hummm!
Explosive power surged into the spear.
“Hup!”
Boom!
The gale-force spear strike turned earth to ruin—not hitting foes directly, but upheaving ground to seal movement. Potent technique on fitting terrain; frontal warriors toppled like dominoes.
Whirr! Whirrr!
Cyan radiance flickered across Yeon Hojeong’s body. Profound majesty worthy of a generational grandmaster.
Yeon Hojeong bellowed.
“Stand down!”
They froze instinctively—bodies reacting before minds. His art’s impact was that profound.
But only briefly. Their eyes burned with intensified malice, lives utterly forsaken.
Yeon Hojeong called again.
“Hold! I need to hear your side first……!”
Whoosh!
No war cries now. Utter abandonment, mad killing intent as they lunged.
Despair crossed Yeon Hojeong’s face.
“……Goddamn it all!”