Chapter 189
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 189
Chapter Title: Chapter 38: Romantic Entanglement (4)
Shh! Shhh! Shh!
The air rippled.
It was a ripple most people couldn't detect, but the assassins sensed it clearly.
'He's here!'
Hanbi gripped his sword tightly.
There was no way he could win. Forget the old man—even the Shaolin Six Champions would be too much for him. But since the task had been entrusted to him, he intended to attack with everything he had.
'An ambush is different!'
This wasn't a fight. It was a sneak attack. As the saying goes, it's hard to dodge a blade stabbing from behind.
The key was to conceal the ambush itself.
Making your presence known was a rookie mistake. Killing intent would give you away. Even your sharp spirit had to be hidden. To do that, even the attacker himself shouldn't know when the strike would come.
"Huuu..."
He drew in a very deep breath. Exhaled.
He closed his eyes. Vision—the sights before one's eyes—stirred the heart. It triggered sharp spirit before thought could intervene.
His two ears were wide open. When a sound reached them, he had to first discern what it was. Time to think came before any emotional disturbance.
'Four Thousand Four... I'm sorry I couldn't be of any help.'
Shh! Shhh! Shh!
The air grew even rougher.
In that instant, something felt wrong.
This wasn't the movement of the Shaolin Six Champions. They wouldn't move so crudely. Then who?
There was no time. He had to decide now. Attack or hold back?
'Not the Shaolin Six!'
Hanbi made his final choice.
The wind brushing his skin felt like an enraged wild bull charging.
The speed was far below the Shaolin Six Champions'.
He'd never seen their martial arts firsthand. But weren't they the old man's disciples? Weren't they specially selected from Shaolin's most outstanding young talents?
'I'll let this sound pass!'
Hanbi waited without panic.
Shh! Shhhh!
Finally, the wind surging close rushed past him. But then—
"Amitabha!"
'What!'
Hanbi's eyes snapped open at the sudden Buddhist exclamation.
Six warrior monks stood before him.
He didn't know when or from where they'd appeared, but the six monks were right in front of him.
"Amitabha!"
One of them clasped his hands in greeting.
Hanbi's fingertips trembled faintly.
What should he do? Attack! But how? Whom? Where?
"This monk's meager skills."
One of the six gripped his禅 staff with both hands and thrust it into the ground.
Kuung!
The staff sank into the earth.
The warrior monk buried it about a third of the way in, then released it.
"I hope these meager skills haven't sullied your discernment."
The monk who planted the staff clasped his hands again.
Hanbi swallowed dryly.
He couldn't face them!
Anyone who could channel inner energy could plant a staff in the ground like it was child's play. No, brute strength alone would suffice.
But the monk's display was entirely different.
The staff plunged into the soil without a single sound. No sense of exertion. It was as effortless as a child sticking a toothpick into sand.
This was someone who wielded inner energy with perfect freedom.
Hanbi could plant a staff like the monk. Effortlessly press it down. But without the slightest noise? Impossible.
"Patron, if you have time, would you share a cup of green tea with this monk? I shall brew it myself."
One against six!
Even one-on-one was hopeless... A sneak attack had slim chances... Then what was that crude noise just now? Someone else passing by?
"Hmph!"
Hanbi lowered his sword.
Attacking them openly was pointless. Instead, he asked what puzzled him.
"That wind just now..."
"It's the Master."
The Shaolin monk replied with a serene smile.
'Master? The old man?'
Had the old man made such a crude sound?
As if reading Hanbi's curiosity, the Shaolin monk explained calmly.
"Among our school's movement arts is Grass-on-Flying, a very light and nimble technique... Amitabha! For some reason, Master has mixed Mad Wind Thunder into it. Amitabha!"
"M-Mad Wind Thunder!"
Hanbi blurted out the name in shock.
Mad Wind Thunder... It was a demonic ultimate art. One that the righteous never used—a forbidden demonic technique. Moreover, Shaolin strictly tabooed unorthodox arts.
For the old man to touch a demonic ultimate art... It meant his martial prowess and spirit had reached ultimate freedom.
The old man was free to cultivate demonic arts.
Common belief held that practicing demonic ultimates corrupted one's character or shortened life... But the old man, Great Master Jigong, was beyond such side effects.
"Ah!"
Hanbi let out a sigh.
No matter how strong Four Thousand Four was... Could he fight someone who had already become a heavenly being?
Hanbi said,
"I'll... have that tea."
Kuung!
Something pressed down with a crushing sound.
'Old man.'
Vanguard gripped his sword.
He didn't need to guess who was making the noise. No one else could bypass Hanbi so quickly. Only the old man.
Four Thousand Four had entrusted him with this strike.
Of course, it was a futile attack. He didn't expect it to injure the old man or drain his energy. Rather, he hoped Vanguard could collapse safely. Even if the old man defeated him, he'd ensure his life was spared.
He already knew Four Thousand Four's intentions.
Still, he'd attack with all his might. Make this strike so vicious that no one would dream of sparing him. Anything less had no meaning.
'Blood Thunder Demon Tribulation!'
Vanguard channeled his secret ultimate art, unknown to any.
Blood Thunder Demon Tribulation was the art of the infamous demonic overlord, Wicked End Cleaver. Wielded with axe or blade, it shattered everything under heaven. And felled three hundred men before his death.
Wicked End Cleaver... Vanguard's father.
Unwillingly, from childhood, what he'd seen and learned was Blood Thunder Demon Tribulation. By the time he came of age, he had to hide it. Right when the demonic Wicked End Cleaver met his end under the righteous sects' combined assault.
After that, he'd trained in countless arts.
He emulated the myriad ultimate techniques of the Heavenly Annihilation Division's Martial Camp. And compared them to Blood Thunder Demon Tribulation.
He had no choice.
Any new art he encountered was inevitably measured against the strongest he knew. A natural progression.
The result was always Blood Thunder Demon Tribulation's victory.
No art he knew surpassed it.
Recently, he'd seen Four Thousand Four's Shadowless Steps. And clashed with Mian Xiao Sha.
To be honest... With Blood Thunder Demon Tribulation, he could fight them.
It was an exceedingly powerful demonic art.
Tzzzz!
As true energy rose, a faint blue glow shimmered from his hands.
It began as blue light. Soon turning black, and with stronger energy, blood-red thunder.
'Come!'
Tzztztztzt!
The blue turned black.
Black mist seemed to billow thickly around Vanguard. He looked cloaked in darkness. At that moment—
"Hah!"
Suddenly, from all directions... From nowhere in particular, resounding from front, back, left, right all at once... A thunderous lion's roar shook his eardrums.
"Ugh!"
Reverse blood surged abruptly. His whole body trembled like an aspen.
Swish!
The old monk landed before Vanguard.
The old monk was extremely short. From behind, he could pass for a child.
His eyes were cloudy.
Frost seemed to coat the whites, or perhaps cataracts.
No trace of a master's bearing. Just a common village elder. If not for his bald, shiny head and monk robes, no one would take him for a monk.
'This is the old man?'
Vanguard suppressed the surging reverse blood with true energy and stared at him.
"Blood Thunder Demon Tribulation, isn't it?"
"I won't deny it."
"Hah!"
The old monk roared again.
"Urk!"
Vanguard reeled back, feeling the fierce reverse blood.
"Now that you mention it, you... Heh heh! I see. You take after Wicked End Cleaver. His blood, eh?"
The old man named Wicked End Cleaver outright.
"I won't deny it."
Vanguard repeated the same.
"Your father was a murderer. Are you one too?"
"Heh heh! You already know I'm an assassin of the Heavenly Annihilation Division. Yes. Father and son, both assassins."
"No, no. That's not what I mean. I'm not asking about assassins. I'm asking about murderers. Are you a murderer?"
'Four Thousand Four.'
In that moment, Vanguard thought of Four Thousand Four.
Only he would answer such a question from the old man without hesitation: 'Yes, I'm a murderer.' Without a shred of doubt.
The old monk said,
"I know how the Heavenly Annihilation Division operates its assassins. No need to ask for other groups... Heh heh! You're no murderer. So why do you wield Blood Thunder?"
'Ah!'
Vanguard sighed inwardly.
Blood Thunder Demon Tribulation wouldn't work on the old monk. Maybe on Four Thousand Four or Mian Xiao Sha, but against Great Master Jigong? Not a chance. It was sealed before he could even unleash it.
"I have a request."
Vanguard spoke politely.
The old man stared at him, as if asking what.
"Please spare Four Thousand Four."
"What?"
"He's too valuable to kill."
"Sikyeol's heir is too valuable to kill?"
"..."
"Heh heh heh! Fool, I came here myself to sever Sikyeol's line. Those scum are unfit to mingle in the world. Heh heh heh!"
"Four Thousand Four..."
"How can a wretch who can't even fend for himself worry about others? Looks like you've lost your will to fight already. Go on down. Have some fresh green tea. I've properly taught my disciples at least how to brew it. Heh heh heh!"
The old man chuckled playfully.
'I... I can't match him.'
Vanguard stared blankly at the sky.
Four Thousand Four often gazed at the sky. Smiling or frowning at the empty expanse.
Whatever expression he wore, while staring at the sky, his mind must have been blank.
Vanguard was the same now.
Gazing at the sky... But no thoughts came.
He'd come to sever Sikyeol's line. Targeting Four Thousand Four specifically.
Sikyeol... What was Sikyeol?
Vanguard couldn't tear his eyes from the sky.