Chapter 33
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Beast Palace Humiliated
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The gruesome bloodbath at the remote Yunnan outpost—a backwater even by jianghu standards—spread far and wide across the world through the Beggars' Sect's local division.
The news exploded into a earth-shattering scandal, upending the fragile peace that had held the jianghu together until now.
It was inevitable.
This wasn't just any incursion; it was a covert invasion of the Central Plains by one of the Western Outer Evil Palaces—no less than the Southern Barbarian Beast Palace, a seat of true power.
Yet, in a twist of absurdity, the story quickly devolved into lighthearted gossip among the jianghu folk, thanks to the follow-up details.
A massive force of two hundred strong had been not only repelled by a single Beggars' Sect division but utterly annihilated.
Everyone knew the Beggars' Sect's elite masters were concentrated at their main headquarters in northern Hebei's Tianjing. A mere outpost was little more than a middling minor sect at best—that was common knowledge.
Naturally, doubts began bubbling up everywhere: had the terrifying reputation of the Southern Barbarian Beast Palace and the Western Outer Evil Palaces been overhyped all along?
"Just as I expected."
After sending all his junior brothers up to the summit of Wave Wolf Peak,
Gwang-il mulled over the report from Old Eyebrows at his leisure. A scoff slipped through his teeth.
"That beast of a Palace Lord must be tearing his hair out. But even so, he won't want to flip public opinion against them."
Storming out in a show of force to salve his bruised pride would only invite fierce resistance from the entire Central Plains martial world.
All the Western Outer Evil Palaces were eyeing the Central Plains' fertile lands anyway.
In his past life, it even seemed like they'd made some secret pact with each other.
Why step up first in this mess and take all the heat alone?
It was only natural they'd think it wiser to avoid such a blunder.
'Even a muscle-headed beast with brains stuffed full of brawn can figure that much out.'
This bought him another stretch of stable time.
The Beast Palace's spies already planted in Yunnan would be rooted out or lost, and sending in reinforcements would be far tougher now.
"While Point Cang focuses solely on training at the main sect, we've secured Yunnan's safety."
Now the entire jianghu knew plainly that the Beast Palace was targeting Yunnan. That alone put serious pressure on them.
And with the Beggars' Sect—not the local powerhouse Point Cang—as the ones who'd crushed them, even a swift, overwhelming retaliation seemed out of reach.
Yet beggars were still rooting out and expelling Yunnan's spies left and right...
"Their guts must be boiling over. Keh heh heh heh!"
Imagining that damned monster spewing curses in rage made his stomach feel full, even without a bite to eat.
'War isn't just about clashing blades.'
Psychological pressure and restraint were powerful checks in their own right.
And it wasn't just the Beast Palace in a bind this time.
"Those slimy Sichuan snakes must be seething too."
The Sichuan Tang Clan was infamous for never hesitating on revenge, no matter the foe.
They always struck back with relentless ferocity.
But with their Venom Dragon Captain and squad wiped out, and every network they'd woven into Yunnan's merchant world from generations back uprooted in one go, they couldn't lift a finger.
'Move rashly now, and the Beast Palace connection gets exposed—leading straight to their clan's annihilation.'
No matter how much they prided themselves on poisons and hidden weapons, shrugging off numbers,
they'd obviously want to avoid becoming public enemies by cozying up to the Western Outer martial world.
The Central Plains harbored deep grudges and wariness toward them, after all.
Centuries of layered invasions had built a colossal well of resentment.
"And yet they stirred up internal strife to push things this far..."
A sudden memory from his past life furrowed his brow.
That was when...
"...Hm? Already?"
Familiar presences approached from the towering Wave Wolf Peak. A amused glint rose in Gwang-il's eyes.
"Ho ho?"
'Look at these guys.'
The ritual morning race to Wave Wolf Peak's summit had become as routine as brushing his teeth.
Over the past few months of merciless daily marches, his green junior brothers' stamina and grit had shot up.
Naturally, the winners grabbing first or second and lounging at the top rotated each time.
But the ones always vying for the lead were fixed: Gwang-jo, Gwang-jung, and Gwang-seok, his roommates.
Whether for senior brother pride or ego, they tussled neck-and-neck for the front every time.
By now, their inclusion in the top spots felt routine.
'But those guys...?'
His eyes were drawn inevitably.
Juniors he'd never expected were suddenly in the lead pack.
"Haaah! Haaah!"
"F-Food! Foooood!"
The stars were none other than Gwang-geon and Gwang-sik.
Guys he'd marked early as future promising swords of Point Cang.
In the chaos to come, they'd surely shine... but
'I didn't think their time was yet. What's this?'
Whatever had happened, their faces beet-red with effort, they clawed into the lead race, battling their seniors tooth and nail.
"Fooooood!"
Snap.
"Eek?!"
Gwang-sik let out a bestial roar and lunged, fat hand snatching Gwang-seok's collar as he blocked the path.
What came next was obvious.
Whoosh!
Crash!
"Kyaaah!"
Gwang-seok went flying backward in a brutal toss, tumbling helplessly.
The impact drew a pained groan from him— a sight straight out of a brutal battlefield.
"Heh...!"
Who'd have thought timid Gwang-sik would backstab his senior like that!
Gwang-il hadn't foreseen this wild turn; his surprise was genuine.
"G-Gwang-sik?!"
"You punk! He's your senior brother—how could you...!"
Stunned by Gwang-seok's exit from their neck-and-neck chase, Gwang-jung and Gwang-jo shot glares of reproach at Gwang-sik amid their panting.
"F-Fo...!"
But Gwang-sik, eyes half-rolled back, ignored their fierce stares...
"Fooooood! My food! Fooooood!"
"Heh, heek?!"
"This guy?!"
Bloodshot eyes blazing, Gwang-sik spewed madness that went beyond mere killing intent—a obsessive frenzy.
"Huh? Him already?"
Gwang-il hadn't starved them yet, so he'd figured it would take time for this.
Yet here was the berserk Gwang-sik from his past life, plain as day.
"Outta my way! All of you, moooove!"
"U-Uwaaah!"
"You bastard!"
Like a demon fresh from hell?
Gwang-sik's rampage shattered his pudgy image with terrifying momentum. Timid Gwang-jung couldn't hack it and fled in panic.
Gwang-jo, meanwhile, raised his hand blade to reassert senior dignity.
"You dare attack your seniors now?!"
"Ho ho?"
Gwang-jo's unfiltered rage cleared a nagging doubt in Gwang-il's mind.
'Well, well.'
He'd only ordered races, never meddling in what happened during.
A bit naive, assuming no fights between brothers.
But this chaos showed it wasn't all smooth sailing.
"You crazy little ghoul! Take this!"
Gwang-jo twisted and chopped fiercely at Gwang-sik's neck.
Aiming to knock him out, it seemed.
Even in fury, a senior's mercy lingered.
"Oh dear."
Gwang-il watching could only sigh.
Against hunger-mad Gwang-sik, soft blows wouldn't cut it.
And sure enough.
Crunch!
"Agh! Ack!"
"Munch! Nom nom!"
Gwang-sik snapped up the incoming hand blade and chomped down.
Yet they both sprinted on—neither wanted to lose the summit shot.
"Gaaah! Let go! Let go, you pig!"
"Nom nom!"
Crunch! Grind!
Pow! Pow! Pow!
Gwang-jo punched Gwang-sik's face wildly to free his right hand, but it wouldn't snap the boy out of it.
Grind! Crunch!
"Gaaaaah!"
"Mmph!"
"S-Senior Brother! Gwang-sik, stop!"
Horrified latecomer Gwang-jung rushed in, prying open Gwang-sik's jaws by force.
"Grrrrraaah!"
"Damn it!"
Slap!
Crash!
Gwang-jo yanked his slobbery, mangled hand free, face ashen as he backed off.
Avenging Gwang-seok charged in, smashing Gwang-sik's skull without mercy.
The brutal blow sent Gwang-sik's limp body rolling down the path.
"Heh heh..."
Gwang-il stood stunned at the absurd spectacle, chuckling despite himself.
'Ask for one, get two.'
He'd figured orthodox sect kids would just run primly.
'Guess I underestimated my juniors.'
They were attacking and sabotaging rivals on their own.
And it wasn't just the leaders.
"Uwaaah!"
"Die!"
"Iyaaah!"
A dozen juniors trailed the leaders by ten-odd paces, trading vicious blows mid-sprint.
A positive shift Gwang-il had missed while focused elsewhere.
"Keh heh heh heh! Perfect. Simply perfect!"
The hypocrites shedding vain formalities and face-saving.
Time to accelerate their training, Gwang-il decided.
This would also perfectly corrupt Point Cang's third-generation disciples, already brimming with venom from cutthroat spars.