Bi-san's Eldest Son (3)
“Hah!”
“W-what? A tiger?!”
The terrifying roar that erupted out of nowhere sent everyone jumping in fright. No one could tell exactly where it came from, but it was unmistakably the bellow of a tiger.
Yet it was far too massive. It boomed like thunder, reverberating across the heavens and earth, so powerful that just hearing it made their legs go weak.
Half the people passing through the heart of Kaifeng collapsed right there on the spot, their legs giving out beneath them.
“A tiger! It’s a tiger!”
“R-run! Get away!”
“Aaaah! Out of the way!”
The commotion spread like wildfire. In any era, a tiger menace was treated as a calamity as dreadful as the plague.
The streets turned into utter chaos in an instant. Merchants slammed their doors shut in haste, while pedestrians fled without a backward glance.
This was despite being quite a distance from the bamboo grove. That was how overwhelming the roar had been.
It’s not.
But a young man sipping tea on the top floor of a luxurious inn in Kaifeng was absolutely certain this wasn’t a tiger’s roar.
This isn’t some mere tiger.
Surprise flickered across the young man’s face.
This qi?!
The explosive sound carried an immense qi within it. He had never felt anything like it before.
Infinite madness that shook the heavens and earth coexisted with a mystical dignity.
A sound resembling a tiger’s roar. Yet its presence dwarfed any mere tiger’s bellow.
Uncle?!
He was certain. The source of this qi emanated from the bamboo grove where his uncle, who led the Ho-myeong Army, had headed.
But neither his uncle nor the Ho-myeong Army warriors would emit such qi.
Pak!
The young man leaped out the window.
* * *
Bam!
Myeong Chisan’s body slid backward after blocking the ferocious strike.
Damn it!
Myeong Chisan’s face had gone deathly pale. The fallen Ho-myeong Army warriors looked even worse—their faces not just pale, but ashen with terror. Some were even foaming at the mouth.
They had suffered a mental blow from the monstrous roar exploding right in front of them.
Shwaaaaa!
The wind grew fiercer by the moment. A gale swept into the bamboo grove, where only a gentle breeze had blown before.
Dozens of sturdy bamboos swayed violently, as if they might snap at any second.
Slide.
Myeong Chisan looked down at his trembling hand gripping the sword hilt with shaking eyes. His tiger mouth was torn, blood trickling from it.
His hand, protected by the Myeong family’s Dongcheon Gong, hadn’t fully absorbed the shock of that strike.
Fearsome.
A power that had suddenly amplified.
Myeong Chisan stared at Yeon Hojeong.
Whiiiiiing!!
A raging gale whipped around Yeon Hojeong, who stood with his head bowed. It was a whirlwind, a tempest.
Bamboo leaves on the ground swirled around him in a vortex, shooting high into the sky.
And that wind—though invisible to the naked eye—somehow seemed to shimmer with pure white light.
“Hup!”
Yeon Hojeong drew in a massive breath, thick veins bulging and receding across his entire body.
Ecstasy bloomed on his face.
It’s done.
The breath he inhaled was infused with far richer qi than before. His lung capacity surged dramatically.
His cardiopulmonary endurance, honed through brutal training, was transforming ideally.
It was as if his lungs alone had undergone a complete marrow cleansing and bone transformation.
His now incomparably sturdier lungs filled him with confidence that a single breath could carry him ten li.
Weeeeeeng!
His lungs brimmed with white true energy.
White Tiger Qi!
The White Tiger, one of the Four Divine Beasts, was the Metal God of Geng Yin, symbolizing autumn.
It governed the lungs among the five viscera and six entrails, maintaining the body’s robustness.
Unlike the Black Tortoise. While the Black Tortoise expelled turbid qi, the White Tiger maximized the qi drawn into the lungs and distributed it throughout the body.
Crack!
Crack, crack!
His muscles and bones seemed to reshape themselves. Without proper breathing, flesh and bone would decay. Conversely, vigorous respiration elevated their quality.
That was the White Tiger.
It pursued offense and advance with extreme stamina and robust breathing.
That was why Yeon Hojeong had trained his body so mercilessly. The White Tiger Qi was difficult to manifest without a solid physical foundation.
The guardian deity of the West. Ruler of the winds. The manifestation of the Western Great Emperor, the White Tiger.
“You bastard!”
Myeong Chisan bellowed.
“What evil art is that?!”
Thud!
Myeong Chisan kicked off the ground and charged at Yeon Hojeong. He had spotted an opening in the man who stood motionless.
Bam!
Myeong Chisan’s eyes widened. The moment he kicked off and stepped forward, Yeon Hojeong was already barreling toward him.
This!
It was too fast. And too powerful.
The force transmitted through the earth was immense enough to shake a mountain.
Yeon Hojeong’s axe swept in a diagonal arc.
Clang!
“Kuh!”
Monstrous strength. Completely different from before.
The density of power defied imagination.
Pushed back by the immense pressure, Myeong Chisan hurriedly prepared a counterattack.
But he was too slow again.
Bam!
Bam!
Fearsome advance. He stamped the earth with each step, propelling forward.
Explosive stamina paired with an overwhelming aura. Murderous intent poured out like a massive tiger pouncing.
This was Yeon Hojeong’s true martial art.
The martial prowess of the Black Dark Emperor, infamous in his past life for devastating offense and relentless combat without retreat.
His axe, once tinged with azure energy, now brimmed with pristine White Tiger Qi.
Clang!
Creeeang!
Each strike generated a colossal shockwave. Myeong Chisan’s blade bent repeatedly, on the verge of snapping.
Too strong!
The qi erupting from the axe crashed like raging waves. It was impossible to endure.
The axe’s storm-like force seemed ready to sweep away heaven and earth.
Bam!
Thud!
And that footwork. No thought of evasion or counter—it was pure advance, nothing but advance.
Moreover, it maximized the stamping force, amplifying the axe’s power twofold, threefold.
Vitality returned to Yeon Hojeong’s eyes.
Good.
The White Tiger’s footwork, White Tiger Ruling Step.
Utterly different from the Black Tortoise’s immovable pillar stance.
The White Tiger’s arts knew no retreat or defense.
And its weapon techniques as well.
Creeeeang!
Bam!
“Gahk!”
A scream finally tore from Myeong Chisan’s lips.
What kind of martial art is this?!
Not spear arts, not sword arts.
Yet it was overwhelmingly powerful. Far stronger, more refined, more savage than the art he’d used before summoning that bizarre wind.
It was the Tiger King Nine Thunder Strikes, unleashed with the power of the White Tiger Ruling Step.
The foundational art of the Beast Spear Method, yet on a transcendent level incomparable to it—an ultimate offensive martial art.
Kwachik!
Kwa-druk!
Boom!
Myeong Chisan staggered back repeatedly. He couldn’t escape even if he tried.
The gale howling from all directions suppressed his freedom of movement.
And with the unyielding advance like a rampaging bull, he had no choice but to keep yielding ground.
But he couldn’t keep retreating forever. At this rate, he’d never land a counter before the axe took his head.
Myeong Chisan roared.
“Raaah!”
Boom!
Yeon Hojeong’s axe faltered for a moment. It was the secret technique of the Cheon-gwan Sword, executed with Dongcheon Gong.
In that brief instant, he had somehow unleashed the secret art to escape danger.
“You bastard!”
Now that he’d broken free of the assault, it was his turn. Myeong Chisan’s blade seemed to declare as much.
Shwaaaaang!
The swift, ferocious Cheon-gwan Sword slashed toward Yeon Hojeong’s entire body.
It was an insanely fast and brutal sword art.
He’d lured it in successfully, but the White Tiger Qi hadn’t fully taken root yet. Blocking it outright would be difficult.
In that moment, the Black Tortoise Qi surged forth.
Woooong!
Creeeeang!
“Kuh!”
Myeong Chisan felt a shock like his wrist might shatter.
W-what?!
From Yeon Hojeong’s body, which had summoned the pale blue wind, dark black-green haze now billowed.
The invincible defense, North Heaven Twelve Walls.
Absolute defense following explosive offense.
The White Tiger handled advance and attack in battle. The Black Tortoise repelled threats with ironclad defense.
Offense and defense, perfectly integrated.
He who had once wielded only a steel shield without a proper weapon now finally grasped a divine blade to match.
Thwoong!
After defense came offense. He took one step toward the repelled Myeong Chisan and swung his axe.
Bam!
Blood burst from Myeong Chisan’s nose and mouth. Internal injuries.
He’d blocked the attack, but the impact rattled his entire body.
Yeon Hojeong didn’t stop.
Stamping step after step of the White Tiger Ruling, he unleashed the divine frenzy of the Tiger King Nine Thunder Strikes.
Bam!
Kwarung!
Bam!
Bamboos toppled with crashes. The blood Myeong Chisan spat grew more profuse.
I’m losing…
The battle had reversed in a single moment.
To think such a monster exists.
He’d instinctively blocked the attacks, but his strength was waning.
Conversely, his opponent’s martial art grew fiercer by the second.
Like gradually fitting into an ill-sized garment, the attacks refined at a terrifying speed.
…?!
At one point, Myeong Chisan saw an illusion.
Behind his foe, a pristine white tiger spirit rose like haze.
A monster?!
Four legs thicker than palace pillars, a tail brawnier than rafters, a long neck crowned with a beast’s face—this unprecedented monstrosity.
Snow-white fur striped with inky black lines like mountains painted by a master artist.
Its blue eyes gleamed with feral light, its gently curving fangs like steel swords.
Resembling a tiger yet subtly different, far more mystical and dignified—the lord of the West gazed down upon him.
One of the Four Divine Beasts, the White Tiger.
“Raaaaah!”
Myeong Chisan spat blood and swung his blade at Yeon Hojeong’s crown.
Yeon Hojeong’s axe rose from low to high.
Fwhoosh!
Kaang!
From his right thigh to left shoulder, flesh tore open. The blade in his hand snapped midway.
Having raised his axe high, Yeon Hojeong smashed it down.
Myeong Chisan’s eyes went vacant.
That plummeting massive axe was the tiger spirit’s claw.
Splaaat!
The axe that shattered his skull plunged into his solar plexus.
It was over.
Shoooo.
“Hup.”
Drawing a breath, Yeon Hojeong pulled the axe free from Myeong Chisan’s body and gazed down at him coldly.
A strong one.
Myeong Chisan was of the same caliber as his father. A true martial artist who had perfected offense and defense, beyond mere realm.
Because he was such a foe, Yeon Hojeong had summoned the White Tiger more easily than expected.
A grateful enemy, in a way.
Yeon Hojeong turned. Nearly a hundred bamboo stalks lay felled.
Traces of driving Myeong Chisan in a straight line.
Beyond them stood one Ho-myeong Army warrior who hadn’t fallen.
“T-this can’t be.”
Myeong Chisan, the pinnacle expert representing the Pale Blue Dreamless Army.
Such a master had been crushed by a late-generation youth not even in his thirties.
An absurd event had unfolded.
Yeon Hojeong walked slowly, stopping three zhang from the warrior.
He aimed his axe at the man.
“A Myeong?”
The warrior shook his head instinctively. It felt like the only way to survive.
Yeon Hojeong nodded—then suddenly swung his axe.
Boom!
An explosion erupted from a particularly dense cluster of bamboo.
Yeon Hojeong said coldly,
“Come out.”
“…My bones are tingling.”
From behind the shattered bamboos emerged a young man in his late twenties.
The young man, Myeong Horim, asked with a rigid face,
“Who the hell are you?”
Yeon Hojeong grinned brightly.
“A Myeong, after all.”