Whirlwind (3)
Myeong Horim clenched his fist.
Crush!
The shattered remnants of the cup turned straight to powder. This wasn't something achievable through external martial arts training alone. To emit internal energy and pulverize glass shards into dust was truly remarkable.
"A mistake?"
Yeon Hojeong nodded.
Interest flickered across Myeong Horim's face.
"And who might you be?"
"Focus on the opponent you're facing."
"What did you say?"
Myeong Horim burst into booming laughter.
"What an entertaining young man. You're from the Bi-san Yeon family in Jiangsu, aren't you?"
Yeon Hojeong said nothing, simply fetching a fresh cup and pouring himself a drink. He then sipped it slowly. He even propped one leg up on the table, looking for all the world like a wastrel lounging in his own brothel.
Myeong Horim's eyes gleamed.
At that moment, Dang Yangseon spoke without even turning around.
"Trash. Do one more pointless thing, and I'll kill you first."
Yeon Hojeong didn't respond this time either. Dang Yangseon hadn't expected one anyway. To him, Myeong Horim was the only one who mattered.
He took a single step forward.
Fsssh.
A faint haze rose from beneath his foot. It was the Tang family's Three Yang Art. A profoundly advanced technique said to naturally awaken the secret art, Guiding Reversal Three Yang Return Art, upon reaching great accomplishment.
No matter how skilled Myeong Horim was, he couldn't afford to stay relaxed forever. Even setting aside raw power, the poison inherent to the Tang family made it impossible to ignore Dang Yangseon.
Dang Yangseon ground his teeth.
"Turned into a puddle of blood with just a handful..."
Then, once more, the air whistled sharply.
Pew! Boom!
The powdered cup scattered in all directions. Unlike before, Myeong Horim had thrust his fist forward this time. The cup had shattered against his knuckles.
Myeong Horim's eyes deepened.
Impressive.
His fist, which had crushed the cup, trembled faintly. There was no pain, but the force had been enough to disrupt the Myeong family's internal energy.
Relaxing his fist, Myeong Horim smiled and asked, "Another mistake, friend?"
Yeon Hojeong held up his empty hand.
"A mistake, yeah."
"Haha! You seem prone to mishaps, my friend. Anyway..."
"..."
"I hope you haven't stirred up the vulture for no reason."
Woooong!!
A surge of killing intent poured from Dang Yangseon, who had lowered his head. Not poison intent, but pure killing intent. And it wasn't aimed at Myeong Horim—it was directed at Yeon Hojeong.
"Yeon family's trash."
"..."
"Do I look like a joke to you?"
"..."
"Do I look like someone who should tolerate humiliation from trash like you?"
Yeon Hojeong still didn't answer. With no empty cups around, he had filled Jegal A-yeon's and was holding it. From afar, Namgung Hyeon—who had been calming his guards—saw this and twisted his face in disgust.
Han Homyeong shouted, "Young master! Calm your anger!"
Dang Yangseon whirled around.
Jegal A-yeon flinched.
Dang Yangseon's eyes, glaring at Yeon Hojeong, burned with madness.
"I'll make you pay for ignoring me."
Jegal A-yeon moved.
"No...!"
Thwack!
Everyone's eyes widened at the brutal sound.
Yeon Hojeong dusted off his hand. The cup was gone, leaving only a few drops of liquor on his skin.
Dang Yangseon's expression went blank.
Drip.
Blood trickled from his torn forehead.
Thud!
Dang Yangseon collapsed backward. He had been knocked out cold by the cup Yeon Hojeong had hurled.
Myeong Horim's face hardened.
Yeon Hojeong, shaking out his hand, rose slowly from his seat.
"Poisoning a drinking party is bad manners."
Silence fell for a moment.
Everyone watching was stunned by the sudden turn of events. Han Homyeong, Dang Yangseon's guard, was especially shocked. His young master had passed out from a mere cup.
The Tang family's signature arts were poison and hidden weapons. For their heir, Dang Yangseon, to fail to block a single cup was a massive shock to all.
Jegal A-yeon's eyes wavered.
"A-Are you okay?"
Yeon Hojeong didn't answer this time either. Or rather, the situation didn't call for responding to anyone.
Similar? Or not? Hard to say yet. But...
The unsettling battle intent emanating from Myeong Horim's refined aura.
An indefinable sense of wrongness.
The unique temperament lurking behind the stable internal energy typical of the White Path Murim.
And the force projection. The emission that shattered the cup followed an operational method unlike any Yeon Hojeong had seen.
Not the internal energy or force of those who attacked his clan. A color he had never encountered before.
But one thing was certain: Myeong Horim's internal energy and force projection shared a common thread of darkness with the attackers, despite differing shades.
A link that couldn't be found in the Jegal or Paeng families.
Flash!
Flash!
As Bi-ra Jin-gyeol circulated, Yeon Hojeong's pupils tinted pale blue.
Ziiing!
Ziiiiing!
It felt like gears meshing and turning in a corner of his mind. His focus sharpened at terrifying speed. His qi flowed along Myeong Horim's aura, piercing straight to the opponent's dantian in an instant.
...?!
Tension corded Myeong Horim's neck.
He's reading me?
The opponent's piercing gaze felt like hundreds of venomous snakes slithering over his body.
Hup!
Myeong Horim instinctively