To Where the Wind Blows (3)
“Gah! That hit the spot.”
“M-more?”
“Huh? Nah, I’m good. Overeating’s bad for you.”
Cheolgon-gae had to fight back tears at the pile of chicken bones on the floor.
He lived the life of a beggar, but the Beggar Sect was a martial faction and the granddaddy of the information trade—their funds were beyond imagination. Naturally, a branch head like him had access to a fair bit of discretionary cash. But Cheolgon-gae had spent plenty on the common folk without ever indulging in luxury. Not just him—all beggars of the sect lived that way.
And now, for the first time, Cheolgon-gae had shelled out big for three whole chickens. Hens, no less. Treasures all gone straight into Huigae’s gut.
“Huh? Why the long face, branch head? Did I piss you off?”
“Pardon? No, not at all! Why would you think that?”
“Good, good. I was worried you were regretting the chickens.”
Regret the chickens? Hardly. He just hated Huigae for stripping them clean, not even leaving a neck bone.
“Anyway…”
“Yeah?”
Cheolgon-gae tilted his head.
“You’ve got grease shining all over your face. Score a good patron or something?”
Gadeuksang grinned. Bits of chicken clung between his neat teeth.
“Caught a real interesting one. Kinda dangerous at times, though.”
“Not the Yeon family head, I hope?”
“You nuts? That guy’s not just dangerous—he’s terrifying. First person besides Master I’ve met who’s too much to even face. Eyes sparkling like he’s got jewels embedded in ‘em.”
“Then…?”
“Not the head. His son.”
“Gah!”
Cheolgon-gae sucked in a breath without thinking.
“The Mad Wind Lion?”
“What lion?”
“Mad Wind Lion…”
“Who’s that?”
“The Yeon family’s eldest young master.”
Gadeuksang cocked his head.
“Yeah, that fits, but he get a nickname?”
“Yes. Pretty famous, too? Spread all the way to Jiangsu a couple months back.”
“Ho ho?”
Made sense. The martial arts Yeon Hojeong displayed at the later-generation summit had been shocking. Top of the later generation, sure, but the way he mercilessly battered the Thunderclap Chuseong was savage beyond words.
The martial world thrived on rumors. Especially when spread by later-generation heirs of the Seven Great Families. Naturally, a nickname bloated with hype would stick.
“Mad Wind Lion, though? Overkill.”
A lion summoning fierce winds, or a lion stirring mad gales. Interpretation varied, but it didn’t sound flattering. Too brutal for the Yeon family’s heir, pillar of the White Path.
Well…
Strip away his background and upbringing, and it fit perfectly. Lion or not, he was half-mad for sure.
“Hooking the Mad Wind Lion as a patron? Impressive, Huigae.”
“He that famous?”
“Rumors spread by prideful later-generation heirs? Everyone knows by now.”
Gadeuksang snorted.
“Damn pride’s the problem. Look at the Nine Great Sects—kids trained there are all humble.”
“They inherited the immortal lineages. Not all humble, though?”
“Better than the Seven Great Families. Man, you shoulda seen the summit. Kids with egos sky-high, all immature.”
“They are young.”
“Still heirs of great clans.”
“Frogs in a well.”
“Smart mouth, huh?”
“Cheolgon-gae at your service, Cheolgon-gae.”
Gadeuksang stretched.
“Ahhh! Anyway, thanks for the grub. Gotta hit the road.”
Regret flickered across Cheolgon-gae’s face. His eyes shone brighter than the sun.
“Already?”
“Stick around longer?”
“…”
“You’re subtly making me feel guilty. Nah, forget it! I’m busy too!”
“Heh heh heh.”
Grinning, Cheolgon-gae tilted his head.
“Where to, then?”
“Where else? Off to meet the mad lion. Looks like I’ll be wandering aimlessly again for a bit.”
“Mad Lion, not Mad Wind Mountain.”
“Whatever. Oh, and…”
Gadeuksang’s eyes sharpened.
“I’ll be helping the Yeon head for a while. Tongcheon-dan won’t pull their weight, so it’ll be tough.”
* * *
Vwooom!
The axe slicing through the air boomed with overwhelming pressure.
“Hoo.”
One wrong breath, and it’d throw him off. The strike’s power was so extreme that even with his stamina ramped up, executing the technique was a struggle.
But it was fine. Bi-ra Jin-gyeol was a rare divine art. Its stability wasn’t limited to true energy—it bolstered the entire body. Stronger, faster, more extreme. It kept the body from breaking even when pushing limits.
Plus, with the infinite prowess of Black Tortoise Qi, he’d adapt quick.
Right as he pondered wielding the axe properly, the gift arrived. Time to thank Father again.
Vwooom! Shiiiik!
Swinging the massive weapon long enough made his joints feel like they’d pop out.
One last time.
Yeon Hojeong’s sweat-slick face hardened with resolve.
White Tiger.
Thud!
His aura shifted. The aggressive, explosive energy turned majestic and brimming with fighting spirit in an instant.
The axe gripped in both hands whipped up a ferocious gale.
Parararak! Boom!
The huge axe blade slammed into the ground. Half the broad blade buried itself in the earth.
Tremendous power, but Yeon Hojeong’s face filled only with regret.
“Not quite.”
Without generating White Tiger Qi, drawing out the White Tiger Formula was tough. He could mimic the form, but not its full might.
Each form of Sasinmu held profound, intricate principles—without the matching directional qi, the power didn’t awaken.
Stick to Wild Beast Spear for now?
Wild Beast Spear simplified White Tiger forms. Compatible with any inner art, but far below the original.
Still, first-rate on its own—no complaints there.
Yeon Hojeong shook the axe free from the dirt and took a deep breath.
Don’t rush. Fast is good, but hasty is bad.
He recalled his master’s words.
‘People say abandon greed to attain the one. Nonsense. Greed births will, will fans passion. The greedless gain only regression. But beware desperation. Swift and frantic differ. Know that, and growth accelerates.’
He’d memorized every word from his master.
A divine being. Not just Sasinmu, but holder of countless forgotten supreme arts—a War God.
Sasinmu was undoubtedly the pinnacle. Even his master deemed it the most ideal from a martial perspective.
Yet he disliked it, despite cultivating it himself.
‘Sasinmu was born in an era of endless war, hellish chaos. Made for foes’ destruction. Perfect as martial art, but pursues nothing beyond human. Thus I cherish—and loathe—it.’
His master followed the immortal path. Aiming to shed the mortal shell for ascension, Sasinmu wouldn’t appeal.
Well, Master was an oddball. Pursued inaction and nature, yet so profoundly human.
Made him wonder.
Where’s Master now?
A wanderer following winds and clouds. Even that past meeting spot would be empty now.
Yeon Hojeong’s gaze deepened.
Will I see him? In this life?
He didn’t know how he’d regressed. But regressed he was—maybe Master too.
Just once, I’d like to see him.
After years teaching Hongcheon Qi and Sasinmu, Master vanished one day. No word, no letter.
Fit him perfectly. Understandable, but it stung.
Yeon Hojeong shook his head.
“Fate will bring us together.”
Then, a playful voice.
“Who? Hiding a pretty lady?”
Yeon Hojeong chuckled.
“Would a beauty spare me a glance?”
“Bullshit. Don’t say that out there. Teasing, that’s all.”
“A madman swinging a man-sized axe. Normal woman gonna flirt?”
“Kekeke, fair point.”
Gadeuksang whistled.
“Up close, it’s ridiculous. How heavy? Few dozen catties?”
“Eighty, give or take.”
“Like swinging a person? Bones’ll shatter in old age.”
“Not your concern.”
“What art you practicing, anyway? Definitely not Yeon style.”
“Something like that.”
“Heh! Young guy with so many secrets?”
“Clans that fool the world with their whole family—what’s that?”
Gadeuksang’s eyes sharpened, realizing it targeted the Moyong family.
“Time to head out?”
“Yeah.”
“Bored anyway. I’ll tag to your destination.”
“Not busy?”
“That how you treat a benefactor? Bow and thanks’d be more like it.”
Yeon Hojeong smiled.
“No bows, but thanks.”
“Ugh, fine! Use it next time I’m in dogshit. Don’t refuse.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Gadeuksang cackled.
At sunset, the woods behind Go-yang-ru were already dim.
“Let’s go.”
“Yep.”
Then—
Piiiing!
Gadeuksang’s eyes flashed.
“Danger!”
Craaaang!
A keen longsword clashed against the broad axe body.
Ting!
The mysterious assailant recoiled at terrifying speed, then lunged again, sword flashing.
Fast, fierce swordplay. Inner energy modest, but the qi’s elasticity in the blade drew awe.
Yeon Hojeong swung his axe with power.
Cra-cra-craaaang!
The eighty-catty behemoth danced like a swift sword, parrying every strike.
Batting away the onslaught, Yeon Hojeong unleashed a storm-like blow.
Boom!
With the explosion, piled branches scattered everywhere.
Whoooosh.
The sword-wielder flew back, then lightly regained footing.
Gadeuksang’s eyes bulged.
“Huh? What? Gongja?!”
The swordsman straightened—the youth, Yeon Jipyeong.
His eyes clear and serene.
“Impressive as ever, brother.”
Yeon Hojeong stroked the axe haft.
“You too. Haven’t seen your skills in a while—didn’t expect this growth so soon.”
“Had to chase desperately. If big brother’s too great, little brother gets tired.”
Shing.
Sheathing his sword, Yeon Jipyeong politely cupped his hands.
“Safe travels.”
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
No regret or reluctance in Yeon Jipyeong’s eyes. He’d washed it away already.
Yeon Hojeong felt pride at his brother’s gaze.
“At least say goodbye.”
“Back soon. Why bother?”
“So like big brother.”
Smiling at Yeon Hojeong, Yeon Jipyeong’s eyes began to waver.
Thought he’d reined in his feelings—not quite.
Yeon Jipyeong bowed deeply with a crisp fist salute.
“Return safely, brother.”
No reply came.
After a long bow, Yeon Jipyeong straightened.
Yeon Hojeong and Gadeuksang were gone.
“…Big brother acts the part. Cold as Father.”