Chapter 39
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: Iron-Blooded Path
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A large-scale raid by an unidentified group erupted in the dead of night.
This disaster, unprecedented even in Point Cang's long history, ironically drew to an ambiguous close amid the absence of the elders—who were too shocked and grief-stricken to act.
All the third-generation disciples who witnessed the scene firsthand had their minds completely captivated by Eldest Senior Brother Gwang-il's mesmerizing gray swordsmanship. They cared nothing for the identities of the raiders who had ambushed their sect.
Thanks to that, they were entirely exempted from cleaning up the mountain of corpses piled up in front of their quarters. Instead, they simply continued their usual grueling training.
"For now, only Gwang-jo, Gwang-jung, Gwang-seok, Gwang-geon, and Gwang-sik qualify."
"If you want to learn my One Flash Death, reach the level of a mature first-class expert. Do that, and I'll teach you without reservation."
"I guarantee it—entering One Flash Death is far easier than mastering Sun-Piercing Sword."
"Moreover, training One Flash Death for several years first will greatly boost your future achievements in Sun-Piercing Sword."
"And right here before you stands living proof in the form of yours truly, Gwang-il."
On top of that, he'd made such a bold, ironclad promise.
Naturally, the ripple effect was immediate.
"Uwaaaah!"
"Eeeek! Hiyaah!"
The martial arts training they'd been forcing themselves through—only to avoid beatings from Eldest Senior Brother or defeats at the hands of other senior brothers that would leave them lagging behind and mocked—
"Die!"
"You die, you bastard!"
Bamf! Bamf!
Boof!
had now entered a phase of genuine, all-out competition brimming with sincerity.
Not just the few who had already stepped into the entry level of first-class.
Even the majority who were much further from that goal poured every ounce of their heart and soul into it, desperate to master One Flash Death as soon as possible.
It wouldn't be wrong to say their bodies and minds—previously torn apart by external pressures like Eldest Senior Brother's gaze and expectations—had now embarked on an even harsher path of self-inflicted torment, driven purely by their own will.
"Heh heh heh heh."
Gwang-il had just returned after assigning nightmarish tasks to the leading pack of five.
Spotting this hellish Asura field amid the chaos, he couldn't suppress his immense pride and satisfaction.
"Iyaaaaah!"
"Kraaaah!"
"They're even handling group sparring among themselves now."
In hindsight, making them fight with blunted, damaged Narrow Tip Swords had been a stroke of genius.
Those swords, too ruined to repair and set aside for later, were perfect for mercilessly stabbing vital points in the chaotic brawl between senior and junior brothers.
"Ah, aaak!"
"Guhhuk!"
"Wait! W-wait! Not there! Not th-there...!"
From the looks of it, this was no different from a real battlefield slaughter.
No longer fixated solely on the opponent in front like before, they stabbed at the backs of heads and waists of nearby foes whenever an opening appeared. That was standard.
Necks, solar plexuses, ankles, temples—of course—and even low blows targeting crotches and dantians, off-limits in formal duels, were everywhere.
They were utterly immersed in one thing: toppling their opponent and claiming victory, nothing more.
"Kuh huh huh huh! That's it. That's the true savagery and essence of the jianghu."
Even the self-righteous orthodox sect monks, who postured with noble airs, devolved into that after a couple months of brutal war. History was full of it.
Teaching it early was surely the wise choice.
But not everyone watching this scene shared the thoughts of the Evil Path Alliance's Vice Leader from a world line that no longer existed.
"Heavens...! How did Point Cang fall into such a wretched state?!"
No An-gae, summoned for cleanup duty as punishment for failing to detect the unidentified raiders until they scaled Point Cang Mountain, gaped in shock and poured out laments like a madman.
"How can anyone call that a proud orthodox sect's famed house? Toss it in the middle of Jiangnan, and anyone would mistake it for unorthodox savagery...!"
"That sounds like something you'd hear from a dog-beating thug who's beaten someone to death with a club."
"...Was this your doing, Gwang-il?"
"My doing? Division Leader, your mouth's awfully foul today. In the jianghu, discernment of your opponent is just as crucial as martial prowess."
Flash!
Unable to tolerate No An-gae's snide remarks grating on his nerves, Gwang-il shot him a chilling glare.
"Heh, heup!"
No An-gae flinched like a scolded dog, shoulders hunching instantly.
It was unavoidable.
"You haven't already forgotten why my junior brothers are training so fiercely, have you?"
"......"
"If the Beggars' Sect had properly guarded the Yun-Nam border as promised, no nameless riffraff would have dared scale our sect's walls."
That was right.
The Beggars' Sect branch beggars had swarmed in without complaint, sweeping the quarters, cleaning up the corpses—
"This tragedy will surely be reported to the Sect Leader. You don't want your incompetence exposed again there, do you?"
"......"
"Muttering about Jiangnan this and unorthodox that regarding Great Point Cang's disciples—you seem awfully eager to head that way..."
"Ehem! Wh-who? Who said that?! No! Absolutely not!"
Caught up in the brutal group sparring, he'd momentarily forgotten his precarious position.
Now acutely aware, No An-gae flailed his hands desperately, jumping about as if on fire.
"Who in the world would dare slander Great Point Cang's disciples like that?! Huh?! If I find such a fool, I won't let him off!"
He even shed pitiful, earnest tears in a frantic pivot.
This was the harsh reality for No An-gae, whose leash was firmly gripped by Gwang-il.
He marveled at how well Gwang-il grasped the Beggars' Sect's inner workings, steadily amassing his weaknesses day by day.
But what could he do?
'To avoid being dragged to headquarters, I have no choice but to stay in this guy's good graces...!'
It was lamentable how the mighty No An-gae had fallen this low, but there was no alternative.
Of course, separate from that, he still had to confirm what needed confirming while being used like a servant.
"S-so... you really didn't know?"
"That again? I already said yes. Making me repeat myself three times now. You're reminding me of the Jinan headquarters."
"Ah, nooo!"
'This punk's never even been to Jinan!'
Unable to hold back, he resorted to threats again!
Though fury surged, No An-gae suppressed it and dutifully resumed his Division Leader duties.
"You truly didn't know those were Sichuan Tang Clan's Shadow Squad last night? Their bizarre hidden weapons alone should've made it obvious..."
"Bizarre? Only one tossed anything, and even that was a clumsy dart I swatted away effortlessly."
"Th-that..."
"You saw the bodies while clearing them. Those hacks couldn't even showcase their meager skills before I killed them all. By this Gwang-il's hand."
"......"
No An-gae had no rebuttal to that perfect response.
Even he had only confirmed their identities upon recognizing the Shadow Squad leader's face after peeling off the masks one by one.
The only clue from their pouches was commonplace darts and hairpins—no unique Tang hidden weapons.
So it was natural that Point Cang's third-generation disciples, who hadn't ventured beyond Yun-Nam since initiation—let alone further—wouldn't recognize the raiders.
It was natural... yet...
'Something about my gut says otherwise...'
Was the man before him just any third-generation disciple?
He was a monster who'd seized the sect founder's fated opportunity and skyrocketed to Point Cang's top expert.
One who taught back not just his master but the Sect Leader and all the elders, even forcing a sect-wide seclusion. The true power of contemporary Point Cang.
More than anything, what fueled No An-gae's suspicions was Gwang-il's worldly speech, behavior, and laid-back poise—like a grizzled jianghu veteran.
Normally, facing a midnight raid by unknowns would cause panic and flailing, right?
No matter how monstrously strong at a young age.
The body was still that of an inexperienced youth in his twenties.
Accounting for his shallow jianghu experience and lack of combat seasoning, even victory through superior martial arts should leave him mentally exhausted and confused...
'...He's too composed. Way too calm and unfazed.'
Sure, he'd massacred the Iron Sword Gang and wiped out poison experts in a Tang safehouse before.
But those were premeditated, after steeling himself.
'This was a complete surprise raid. With no elders to rely on—how could he...'
...maintain such a serene expression?
Excluding one headless corpse whose identity was unknown, every single one of the dozens had their throats pierced clean through—instant kills.
Which meant...
'He wasn't calm after suppressing the raid and regaining peace. He was nonchalant even while facing the Shadow Squad.'
As if performing routine, familiar work—poking throats with his Narrow Tip Sword like it was nothing.
Too steady a hand for rage-fueled slaughter against sect invaders.
Only the most renowned veterans could emotionlessly kill like that against a squad of first-class experts.
This wasn't about overwhelming power—it was about human emotion.
What was it...?
'Not seeing people as people... like a battle-hardened old ronin.'
Of course, the kid Gwang-il couldn't possibly be that.
'I'm going mad, really!'
No An-gae's headache grew inevitable before this unsolvable puzzle.
Asking got no straight answers—just threats of headquarters if he pushed too far.
"Haaaah!"
Leashed as he was, he was dragged along helplessly.
But this enigmatic Gwang-il, whose inner thoughts he couldn't fathom, only grew more terrifying.
Meanwhile, Gwang-il wasn't oblivious to his turmoil.
"Put aside useless thoughts. If you and the sect grasp even a fraction of the gravity facing Yun-Nam right now."
"......"
"Just follow my lead like you are. In the end, that's the path to saving you, the branch, and its beggars."
To the cool advice delivered like a senior soothing a junior, No An-gae finally cleared the foggy doubts filling his mind.
'Damn it! I give up.'
Racking his brains wouldn't uncover anything anyway. He was already being led by the nose.
What use pondering his leash-holder's motives now?
Having lived in peace for so long, No An-gae was quick to throw in the towel on such matters.
"So, what's your plan now? Whether you knew or not, you've sent dozens of Tang Shadow Squad to the next world."
"Hmph. Let's correct that: I exterminated filthy rat pups who sneaked into our sect at night."
"...Hah! With the Beast Palace draining our manpower, why do fellow orthodox sects keep pulling this crap...!"
"As I said before, our sect did nothing. The ones raiding a quiet Point Cang are those Southern Barbarian beasts and Sichuan vipers."
"......"
"No need to broadcast this outside. Specifically, no need to show you recognized the Shadow Squad."
"Then...?"
"Some unidentified group scaled Point Cang's walls at midnight, only to be caught by third-generation disciples and wiped out to the last. That's enough."
'Even the suspicious Tang serpents will agonize over whether hostages were taken or if they're truly all dead.'
Having constrained the Sichuan Tang Clan further through this reckless act, Gwang-il deemed it sufficient silver lining.
"If manpower's short, delegate Beast Palace spy hunts to Kunming branch and others. You and the proxy branch focus on monitoring Tang movements for now."
p>
"Tsk... Fine. But I have to report truthfully to the investigation team from headquarters soon. Even if you slit my throat here, that won't change."
"Of course. Just don't complicate things unnecessarily. That's all for now."
Seeing No An-gae's uncharacteristically firm expression after being dragged around, Gwang-il nodded readily.
He hadn't expected that much anyway.
Just a faint hope.
The Beggars' Sect investigation team dispatched from distant Hebei Jinan—its full roster unknown.
A small wish that the key decision-makers among them matched those from his memories.
Thus, ten full days passed after all of Point Cang's third-generation disciples embarked on their self-chosen iron-blooded path and the Beggars' Sect finished cleanup and withdrew.
"Wh-what the hell happened here?!"
"Long time no see. Division Leader No An-gae."
The young master of the contemporary Beggars' Sect arrived, accompanied by headquarters elites including elders and staff bearers, thrusting his foot into No An-gae's peaceful honey pot.