Preparations Complete (3)
“You’ve arrived?”
Moyong Gun’s eyebrow twitched.
Jegal Munho continued with a composed expression. “I had something to discuss in private, so I took the liberty of asking you to come all the way here. I hope you’ll forgive the imposition.”
“So, what is it?”
He still seemed to harbor resentment from their previous encounter. Yet he was showing a more honest side than expected. Having already laid bare how they viewed each other, there was no need to hide his discomfort.
Jegal Munho gestured toward one of the doors. “There’s a favor I’d like to ask of you, Patriarch Moyong.”
“A favor?”
Moyong Gun’s eyes gleamed. He expanded his senses.
……
The corners of his mouth slowly curved upward.
“Well, now.”
Moyong Gun shook his head. “Not very strategist-like of you to push yourself this far.”
Jegal Munho gave a wry smile. “When it comes to the affairs of the Martial Alliance, what room is there for holding back?”
“Music to my ears. But you know full well, don’t you? If word of this reaches the other Bonggongs, you’ll face quite the backlash.”
“One of them already knows.”
“One?”
“Yes.”
Moyong Gun’s expression grew peculiar. “Not Yeon Wi, I hope? That man, for all his trust in you, calls a spade a spade. If he knew, he’d have informed the Bonggongs immediately.”
“I’m well aware. Which is why I didn’t tell Patriarch Yeon.”
“Heh, and here I thought there was scarcely anyone as in sync with you. So, who did you tell?”
“Care to guess?”
Jegal Munho maintained his unflappable demeanor to the end. Moyong Gun eyed his face for a moment before smacking his lips.
“Don’t tell me—Abbot Gong Gong?”
“Precisely.”
“Bold move.”
“The water’s already spilled. If chaos is inevitable, my only choice was to inform the Bonggong with the greatest influence and mitigate the fallout.”
A formidable man indeed.
Knowing his worldly wisdom stemmed from judgment for the greater good made it admirable—and bittersweet.
If only he were the type to kneel for his own sake, I could have claimed that brilliant mind long ago.
Regrettably, even in resorting to such sudden and radical measures, Jegal Munho acted for the Martial Alliance. It wasn’t bad. No, a strategist should act that way. It was merely regrettable.
Had Jegal Munho served under him, Moyong Gun wouldn’t need to bide his time so quietly now.
No helping it.
Those who bark for themselves are easy to handle. But those who bow for others inevitably cause trouble someday. Jegal Munho was thoroughly the latter.
“Well, at least the worst is averted,” Moyong Gun said with a shrug. “So, what am I to do with the man inside?”
“I’ve wrung out most of it from him, but he held back on the most crucial details.”
“Intriguing. For someone who’s gone this far, to show pointless mercy.”
“We can’t very well torture him.”
“If necessary, we must.”
“It’s not. That’s why I called you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You excel at this sort of thing, don’t you? Threatening and intimidating to extract what you want.”
A sharp jab. Moyong Gun chuckled softly.
“Leave the rest to me?”
“The one who imparted great wisdom to this inadequate strategist—I trust you’ll handle it differently.”
“Seems you intend to dirty my hands too. Laying down insurance, are we?”
“Don’t misunderstand. You hold no value as insurance, Patriarch Moyong.”
Moyong Gun smacked his lips again. “That stings the pride a bit.”
“So, what will it be? Will you step in? Or shall we handle it ourselves, even if it takes time?”
Moyong Gun stared at Jegal Munho before flashing a feral smile.
“Why make the strategist suffer when there’s an expert at hand?”
Jegal Munho smiled back.
“I’ll give you a moment.”
Clunk!
The door swung open. Moyong Gun stepped inside and saw several physicians bound tightly to chairs. In the center sat Ha Gok.
“Ho.”
Moyong Gun smiled. “Didn’t expect to meet like this again, Physician Ha.”
Ha Gok shouted, “Patriarch Moyong?! What is the meaning of this? Dragging innocent physicians here at random!”
“Innocent… Well, that depends on the investigation, doesn’t it?”
“Investigation? What authority does the Martial Alliance even—!”
Bam!
Moyong Gun slammed the door shut. Startled, Ha Gok fell silent.
“We have the authority.”
Zzzing. Zzzzzing.
Bluish lightning crackled between Moyong Gun’s fingers like a web. His face turned expressionless.
“The right not to be toyed with by petty physicians like you. And the right to crush ants like you underfoot.”
Terror washed over Ha Gok’s face. Moyong Gun grinned whitely and seized his throat with his electrified hand.
“So many secrets, eh?”
Crackle!
* * *
Splurt!
Blood spurted from the severed wrist. Yeon Jipyeong landed gracefully after sweeping away the enemies swarming Yeon Hojeong with exquisite swordsmanship and divine skill.
“Jipyeong! You?”
Yeon Jipyeong smiled. His face looked unusually pale under the moonlight, but his features—far more mature than before—filled Yeon Hojeong with immense surprise.
And it wasn’t just him. Muk Bi recognized the youth at once.
“Jipyeong!”
In that instant, Yeon Hojeong swung Gwangryongbu.
Thud!
The assailant’s torso split in half under the monstrous blow. It was an assassin who had targeted Yeon Jipyeong stealthily.
“Greetings later! Clear these bastards first!” Yeon Hojeong roared.
“Yes, brother!”
Despite the dire moment, hearing Yeon Jipyeong’s voice brought an involuntary smile to Yeon Hojeong’s face.
He’s all grown up.
Not just his appearance, but his voice had changed markedly from three years ago—deeper, calmer, inspiring trust on its own. A boyish innocence lingered, but he was now a proper young man.
And his skill too.
Whoosh!
It was astonishing. He had leaped skyward on arrival, severing enemies’ wrists, and now unleashed his sword without hesitation.
Stab! Slash! Thud!
Yeon Jipyeong’s swordsmanship wasn’t flashy. Nor did it have the poise or fluid linkage of Moyong Woo’s style.
Yet it was staggeringly effective. Not raw sword force, but practical swordsmanship that reaped lives with minimal motion and power.
He’s committed to it.
Yeon Hojeong didn’t know the harsh training or real battles Yeon Jipyeong had endured these three years.
But one thing was clear: his brother’s nature hadn’t changed. Battle-tested or not, he was never one to kill easily.
Yet here he was, gritting his teeth to slay foes. Because someone far dearer than his nature or beliefs existed.
Because of his brother, Yeon Jipyeong struck without hesitation.
Grip!
Yeon Hojeong gripped Gwangryongbu with both hands and swung with terrifying momentum.
Flash!
The crescent arc cleaved enemies’ upper and lower bodies apart.
Boom! Thud! Crash!
Was it his brother’s arrival that invigorated him? Or heightened urgency? Yeon Hojeong’s martial arts unleashed unprecedented power.
With Gyo Ryong Swai coiled around his torso, he felled foes solely with Gwangryongbu—its speed and destructive force enough to overturn the Yangtze’s waters.
“Brother!”
Crack!
Yeon Hojeong whipped a backward kick without looking, shattering an enemy’s skull.
“Don’t worry about me! You’ll get caught off guard!”
“Y-yes!”
“Don’t scan with your eyes! Use all your senses! Master them, and you’ll read air currents and predict attack paths!”
“Yes!”
Even mid-battle, Yeon Jipyeong absorbed the lesson instantly.
Flash!
His plain longsword, infused with frigid Geomgeuk Sagi, generated razor-sharp cutting power and overflowing sword force, sealing enemy advances.
From offensive swordsmanship slaying foes, it shifted to flawless defensive swordplay. The result of honing his senses to the extreme.
With attacks pouring from all sides—too numerous and ingenious—his body prioritized blocking over killing.
Watching this, Yeon Hojeong inwardly cheered.
“That’s it!”
Boom!
Yeon Hojeong soared skyward with Blood Wing Swing Heaven, swinging Gwangryongbu at enemies trying to breach Yeon Jipyeong’s defense.
Crash!
The explosion hurled over a dozen black-clad foes flying every which way. Yeon Hojeong shouted,
“Muk Bi!”
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The black-clad survivors of Gwangryongbu’s shockwave plummeted, heads pierced before hitting ground—Muk Bi’s intervention.
Yeon Jipyeong’s defense and Yeon Hojeong’s offense synergized, throwing enemies into disarray. Now, sustaining stamina mattered less than sweeping them decisively—a wise tactic.
Her timing in striking and withdrawing was impeccable, proving Muk Bi had reached grandmastery.
Yeon Hojeong called again, “Moyong Commander! Take Gang Ryang and Gi U-hui and loop around! Jipyeong! Stick to the group’s rear and block all attacks! And Muk Bi!”
Whoosh!
Muk Bi closed the gap in an instant, nocking an arrow on Hong Ryeon Palace behind Yeon Hojeong.
He asked without turning, “Heart holding up?”
“Pounding! Why do these things always happen when I’m with you, Young Master Yeon?”
“Hey! Not my fault! And we expected this much!”
“Next mission like this, you do it alone!”
“You’re the one who followed, you rascal!”
Twing!
Yeon Hojeong uncoiled part of Gyo Ryong Swai from his torso, wrapping it around his left fist, and thrust a powerful left punch.
Boom!
His chain-gauntleted fist was a lethal weapon unto itself, toppling a dozen rebounding black-clad foes before halting.
Yeon Hojeong bellowed, “With Jipyeong here, let’s risk it one more time!”
“Was planning to!”
One expert, short a hand, forcing total annihilation was futile. With trusty swordsman Yeon Jipyeong joined, trusting allies to clear visible threats first, then regrouping, made sense.
Yeon Hojeong pictured him—those reliable eyes, steady swordsmanship, unshakeable resolve.
I can trust him. Jipyeong now can handle it.
Splash! Splash!
Muk Bi yelled, “Enemies fleeing into the river!”
“They’re flanking! Perfect! Take them!”
Gwangryongbu thundered like lightning; Muk Bi’s Hong Ryeon Palace unleashed arrows at ferocious speed.
Boom boom boom!
The Yangtze erupted like a volcano.
The next morning, the eastward-flowing Yangtze bore the murkiest hue of the year.