Chapter 323. The One Who Lights the Sacred Fire (5)
"I really don't like it."
The face of Gyeok, infamous for his usual stoic demeanor, was twisted in a rare display of frustration.
The sun had long lost its light, leaving the world shrouded in darkness. Even he, whose constitution made him impervious to both cold and heat in the dead of winter, still couldn't adapt to the Central Plains' weather. There was just something about the atmosphere it brought.
Even after all these years, I can't get used to it.
His homeland was still the best, after all. The Central Plains' vast, fertile lands made it essential for expanding their influence, but Gyeok hated this place.
If only we could just charge in and clash head-on.
Of course, he knew better. Wars weren't won by brute force alone. The quicker a war ended, the better—and overwhelming power and influence were key to that. That was why Sinhwa Church, Saneumgyo, and Gwanghyeol were infiltrating the Central Plains slowly, without revealing themselves.
They needed an overwhelming victory.
But knowing it in his head and feeling it in his gut were two different things. Gyeok was a brilliant tactician, but even more so a hot-blooded warrior. He kept his expressions in check to rein in his fiery temper, and he showed forced mercy to his subordinates for similar reasons.
Damn it all.
He wanted to burn every visible mountain to ash. His mind understood, but his chest grew stuffier with each passing day.
I can't even remember the last time I had a proper fight.
Was it the frustration? His stagnation had lasted five years without a sign of breaking. Once he overcame it, he could rocket into the top ranks of the Eighteen Martial Generals.
It was all the environment's fault. He'd arrived in the Central Plains five years ago and taken a position in Henan Province's military. Without proper fights, his martial arts had plateaued. That's how he saw it.
"Hmph."
Gyeok scanned his surroundings. He'd run over fifty li from their outpost. Time to pick up speed.
Whoosh!
A crimson glow enveloped his body, doubling his movement speed. Tearing through the wind eased his pent-up frustration somewhat. Running wild like this was the best way to vent a bad mood.
Gyeok's expression softened.
How long had he run like that?
……
Gyeok tilted his head.
What was that?
Pop! Pop!
He kicked off the air several times to slow down, landing atop a massive tree. Though a giant, the top branches were thin—yet they didn't bend under his weight. Incredible lightness skill.
He surveyed the area.
"……Hmm. I definitely felt some qi ripple."
An extremely faint fluctuation of qi. In truth, it was so minor he could've ignored it. A mere illusion while moving at full speed.
But Gyeok was cautious. Frustration was one thing; he never forgot his identity as one of Sinhwa Church's Eighteen Martial Generals.
Unlikely, but just in case.
Whoosh. Crackle.
The fiery energy surging around him faded in color, shifting from tangible to intangible. He spread his dantian-full of true energy like spiderwebs in all directions.
A Qi Detection technique—possible only for masters who had shattered walls and transcended limits, demanding exquisite true energy control.
Humm. Humm.
The wind blew fiercely, making his spread qi ripple constantly. With lowered density and its fiery nature, it clashed with the winter gusts.
Hmm.
Still, skill was skill. He forced more inner energy out for a deeper scan, then withdrew it.
Just my imagination, then.
Gyeok smirked and stepped off the branch—
Right then.
Swoosh.
A sharp wind sliced up from below. His hand flashed like lightning.
Boom!
Lightning-fast, boulder-heavy palm strike. It cratered the ground and pulverized half a thick tree root. Terrific power.
Whoosh!
Gyeok dropped down instantly, scanning around.
"Which bastard—?!"
Suddenly, chills ran down his spine.
Thud!
A one-chi axe buried handle-deep into the tree. Incredibly stealthy and swift. Even Gyeok would've lost his head if a split-second slower.
But the assault didn't end.
Whoosh!
Blazing true energy closed in on his face.
Fire qi?!
Fire qi—extraordinary, rivaling his own. Overflowing heat and murderous intent made him wonder if it was from his own church. And the hand blade from its wielder was already two inches from his throat.
Slish!
A long gash on Gyeok's neck. Drops of blood sizzled into burns. Unbelievable—a master of Yeongyang Gong burned by a fire-qi hand strike.
"You bastard!"
Boom!
The sudden explosive force sent the attacker flying back. Gyeok's eyes shook.
What the hell?
Shorter-ranged explosive strike unique to Sinhwa Church warriors—faster and more destructive than Central Plains inch-force techniques.
Used by one of the Eighteen Martial Generals, any average master would've had their upper body explode.
Why no feedback?
No sensation of destruction from the palm-heart explosion—like striking a rippling water wall. Gyeok had never felt this with Worship Fire Shock Break Art.
In that split-second fragment of time, he glimpsed translucent, wave-like qi flowing before the attacker in the darkness.
Water?! Time accelerated wildly.
Splash!
A fist burst through the water wall's center, rocketing toward his solar plexus. Too fast to dodge.
Gyeok instantly circulated Azure Furnace Pure Fire Art, unleashing Fiery Flower Divine Palm.
Sinhwa Church's fire-based inner art, paired with its signature palm technique.
Bam! Bam! Crunch!
It didn't fully neutralize the straight-piercing fist power. Gyeok's body shattered a giant tree and slid back.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
His eyes widened.
Fast!
The attacker drew countless straight lines with flame-like aura. Terrifying footwork—or was it body technique? Either way, superior to his own speed.
Whoosh!
The erratic assailant curved down to Gyeok's lower guard in an instant. Not just fast—supremely flexible.
Beyond imagination. Gyeok had to admit the foe outclassed him in lightness skill.
Boom!
Fist and palm clashed with a deafening explosion.
Ugh!
Thick veins bulged on Gyeok's forehead. The attacker wasn't just nimble—equal power too.
Gyeok retreated madly. The foe pursued, whipping legs furiously.
Pop! Pop! Boom!
Even the leg techniques were fast. No profound insight or refined forms—just raw kicks, yet swift and powerful. Eyes couldn't track the targets.
Gyeok's palms slashed wildly through the air.
Bam! Bam!
His hands rebounded.
Strong!
Fast. And strong. That was all.
And that was the essence of martial arts. If speed evaded the naked eye and power shattered any defense, that was the pinnacle.
The attacker cornered him with plain techniques—proof of grasping the path to martial extremity.
Boom!
After several exchanges, Gyeok exploded his pent-up Fiery Flower palm force, pushing the foe back. No feedback again. Superior power, yet useless against that translucent water wall.
But fine. The distance was now over ten paces—enough for a breather.
"Hoo."
Gyeok steadied his short breaths, eyes blazing red like fire.
"Which mangy dog...!"
He couldn't finish—had to duck his upper body.
Boom!
This strike was massive—like cannon fire against a castle wall. The intangible double-palm blast splintered three trees behind him.
Astonishing palm force. But more shocking: unleashing such destruction without qi detection.
Gyeok's fiery gaze turned sticky crimson.
Boom! Boom!
The attacker paused mid-follow-up.
Boom! Boom!
Crackle!
Gyeok's indiscriminate palm barrage shattered surrounding trees, igniting unnatural flames that formed a wall of fire around them.
A blazing inferno battlefield.
Gyeok asked coldly.
"Who are you? State your name."
The attacker flinched, halting the assault. Staring at Gyeok, they relaxed their stance. The murderous glare remained, but confusion crossed their face.
"Introductions? In this situation?"
"I said it again. State your name. I have no interest in fighting someone too cowardly for that."
Gyeok called it a fight. Yes. Pushed back, but after those exchanges, he fully acknowledged the foe.
Crack.
Sinister sounds from his clenched fist. His martial heart ignited. Exploding battle lust even overrode his faith in the Church Lord.
The intense desire he'd suppressed roared free. Facing a foe worthy of his all, Gyeok forgot his circumstances in excitement.
The attacker—Yeon Hojeong—narrowed his eyes.
"……You're a weird one."
He'd ambushed to kill, reasons be damned. No one should ask for a name with such eager eyes.
Names came after half-killing the opponent. Assailants didn't reveal them sanely anyway.
Gyeok spoke again.
"Whether this land you call the Central Plains or where I came from, foes like you are rare. We're crossing fists, so reasons don't matter. But I want your name."
"Before that."
"……?"
Yeon Hojeong's face twisted sharply.
"Why the hell are you wearing that?"
"……Hmm."
"Why are you dressed in the uniform of a Town Pacifier from the Imperial Guard Command Bureau?!"