Schemes Met with Schemes (3)
Song Hyeon's stance shifted abruptly, and Paeng Jagol hesitated for a moment before regaining his composure.
"You snuck into the fortress by some stroke of luck, and now a little punk like you has no fear left, eh?"
But instead of responding, Song Hyeon changed the subject entirely.
"Paeng Jagol, the younger brother of Paeng Ja-ho, the monstrous powerhouse born of the North Paeng Family. Your lifelong goal was to surpass your brother, but after he entered Black Wolf Castle and turned into a revenant, you never achieved it."
At those words, Paeng Jagol's smile vanished, his face turning icy cold.
"My brother became a revenant? How the hell would you know that?"
"Paeng Ja-ho earned the moniker Reverse Mountain Puller for his innate superhuman strength. Unable to beat him with external martial arts, you refined the family secret art, the Five Tiger Severing Dao, in your own way and made a name for yourself in the jianghu."
"...You've got good intel, at least. Were you an escort from the escort agency?"
"That's right."
"Which agency?"
"It's gone now—wiped out."
"Ha! Some lowly escort from a defunct agency dares to..."
"Qingwei Escort Agency."
"...!"
Paeng Jagol's eyebrows twisted in fury.
The Qingwei Escort Agency had once dominated Henan in its heyday.
The North Paeng Family sat on the border of Hebei and Henan. Though years had passed, Paeng Jagol was well aware of their reputation.
"I heard the Qingwei Escort Agency was wiped out a few years back..."
"I don't repeat myself."
"Wait. I heard a rumor once that Shaolin Temple asked the Qingwei Escort Agency for help... was that you?"
"In the flesh."
"Hmph..."
"You've got sharp intel yourself. Why not learn the escort trade instead of dao arts?"
Paeng Jagol fell silent at Song Hyeon's unflinching words before speaking up.
"Why'd you infiltrate the Five Families Alliance fortress?"
"The world isn't yours, yet you blocked the road on a whim. Had to pass through somehow."
"So you're the ones heading to Shaolin from Sichuan."
"No, not me—my companions."
"You're the guide?"
"Something like that."
"You know what happens to escort punks who barge into someone else's turf without permission?"
"No idea."
Clang.
Feeling no more words were needed, Paeng Jagol drew the dao from his waist and aimed it at Song Hyeon.
Paeng Jagol's signature weapon, the Guiho Dao.
A type of broad dao, but he'd ordered a blacksmith to widen the blade even further.
He'd also demanded the edge be thickened to evoke an axe.
The resulting Guiho Dao looked like a dozen axes fused into one.
Its weight was so immense it seemed impossible to swing properly.
But if swung, it could cleave through human bone and muscle like splitting firewood.
Hence the rumor in Hebei: "You can dodge Paeng Ja-ho's Guiho Dao, but you can't block it."
Countless martial artists had met their end as wandering ghosts after their swords snapped trying to parry it.
Paeng Jagol raised the Guiho Dao overhead, spinning it like a windmill with both hands.
Whoooosh... whoooosh... whoooosh...
Clang.
In an instant, he'd spun it over a dozen times before slashing it horizontally in a mounted stance.
"I've heard the Qingwei Escort Agency's swordsmanship is domineering. Should make for a fine match against my Five Tiger Severing Dao."
"A fine match?"
Song Hyeon let out an uncharacteristic smirk.
"Matches are for when martial levels are even. This'll just be a one-sided slaughter... or a lesson, rather."
"...!"
"A good lesson for the brute Paeng brothers who rely on raw power. The only pity is..."
"You arrogant bastard!"
Enraged, Paeng Jagol charged, swinging the Guiho Dao.
Bwoooom.
His blunt dao could split swords or shields and carve through flesh alike.
Yet he wielded its immense weight like a whip—proof of his swift blade work.
The tyrannical dao art born from the North Paeng Family's sturdy lineage and Paeng Jagol's obsession with external martial arts.
But as the Guiho Dao flashed toward him like lightning, Song Hyeon oddly glanced northwest and muttered.
"Maybe I talked too much since it's been ages facing a famed orthodox master. Time to wrap this up."
Then Song Hyeon raised his sword to block the Guiho Dao.
Paeng Jagol was dumbfounded, bordering on incredulous.
'Is this guy insane?'
Even without the Guiho Dao, facing a dao head-on with a sword was suicidal.
Besides, Song Hyeon's rusted sword couldn't match the Guiho Dao even if you melted down dozens like it.
It was like blocking a log with a twig.
Paeng Jagol had been inwardly tense facing a survivor of the Qingwei Escort Agency that swept through Henan's black path thugs.
But seeing this nonsense, he quickly grew contemptuous.
'Fine. If you wanna die, I'll grant your wish!'
Paeng Jagol brought the Guiho Dao crashing down on Song Hyeon's head.
Now his sword would shatter like icicles, and the blade would split his skull.
But instead of the clash of weapons, an eerie screech rang out.
Tssssss.
In that instant, Song Hyeon's pitch-black sword gleamed with a steel-blue hue like a frozen lake, slicing into the Guiho Dao like paper.
As the blade bit in, the Guiho Dao began splitting from both sides—like bamboo cracking along its grain once the seam opened.
'...!'
The sword cleaved the Guiho Dao vertically and slashed empty air.
Flash.
A single sword gleam traced diagonally from Paeng Jagol's shoulder across his chest.
Clack.
Before it faded, Song Hyeon sheathed his sword.
And he finished his earlier thought.
"The pity is, even if you learn the lesson, you won't live to use it."
Thud.
Only then did the two halves of the Guiho Dao hit the ground.
Song Hyeon turned without a second glance at Paeng Jagol and vanished into the darkness.
* * *
Creeeak.
The door opened, and a Pearl Eon Family warrior entered the room.
Despite the fortress's stark stone walls, the room carried a faint incense scent—likely a woman's quarters.
The warrior swiftly searched the room.
Looking for something specific.
Suddenly, the door opened again, and a woman in a blue mask entered.
"Who the hell are you?"
The sole woman in the Five Families Alliance fortress—Moyong Hwa-jeong.
The warrior knelt on one knee.
"I was ordered to inspect the room."
"Eon Ja-seong ordered you to search my room?"
"Yes. Please forgive me."
"The kind of order a grubby bastard like him would give. But does Eon Ja-seong teach the Reverse Face Technique too?"
"..."
The warrior looked up with cold eyes, glaring at Moyong Hwa-jeong.
"I thought the Moyong Family was full of petty schemers, but your martial prowess is surprisingly decent."
Shick. He peeled off the talisman on his chest.
The Pearl Eon Family warrior's form shimmered like a mirage and vanished, revealing Joo Eun-ri in black combat robes.
"I thought you were heading to Shaolin, but you came to steal instead. What are you after?"
"..."
A woman's intuition is hard to fool.
Moyong Hwa-jeong noticed Joo Eun-ri's gaze on the sash at her waist and asked.
"Here to steal this sash?"
"Steal? Just returning it to its rightful owner."
"Rightful owner?"
"Do you remember Gohomun?"
Moyong Hwa-jeong tilted her head briefly before recalling.
"Ah, yes. I heard about them. When I was young, there was a sect that dared defy the Moyong Family and got wiped out."
"They wouldn't lose to the likes of the Moyong Family. But when the Moyong Family, North Paeng Family, and Pearl Eon Family teamed up like cowards against one sect, they lost regrettably."
"Is that so?"
"Not content, you even used fire tactics. The entire village where Gohomun stood burned to the ground."
"Our ancestors were clever. No need to waste martial arts on upstarts who don't know their place, ho ho ho!"
Moyong Hwa-jeong laughed loudly before asking.
"So, here for revenge on your sect?"
"Killing you won't avenge them. I'm here for a Gohomun artifact today."
"The sash? Father gave it to me, but it was spoils of war, huh."
"The dimwitted Moyong Family wouldn't know its value. Hand it over nicely."
"Ridiculous. In the jianghu, the weak's possessions become the strong's. Don't you know that basic truth?"
"I know it well. That's why the strong will take it back."
"You, the strong?"
Moyong Hwa-jeong scoffed and drew her sword from her waist.
Joo Eun-ri drew no weapon.
Instead, she angled her body sideways and spread her arms and palms wide—like a martial stance mocking Moyong Hwa-jeong.
"I heard the Moyong Family has arts that mimic foes' techniques, but since I use no sword, you can't copy mine. Pity."
"I'll shut that mouth for good!"
Unable to bear the taunts, Moyong Hwa-jeong lunged, thrusting her sword.
Shick.
Joo Eun-ri stepped with footwork, spinning half a turn.
Her form slipped behind the charging Moyong Hwa-jeong, leaving their backs touching.
Then Joo Eun-ri bent her knee and hip-checked Moyong Hwa-jeong's waist. Caught off-guard by the bizarre move, Moyong Hwa-jeong stumbled.
In that instant, Joo Eun-ri swept her foot like a broom, kicking Moyong Hwa-jeong's ankle.
Simultaneously, she slipped her hand between Moyong Hwa-jeong's legs and rose, arms raised like cheering victory.
Three motions in one: unbalancing, kicking the foot, flipping the body.
Thud. Whoosh.
As Moyong Hwa-jeong's body floated helplessly in the air.
Joo Eun-ri thrust twin palms into her abdomen for the finishing blow.
Shoooo.
No overwhelming force, but on impact, it reversed qi flow and ruptured organs—the essence of soft martial arts.
Yet Moyong Hwa-jeong, the Moyong Family's envoy to the Five Families Alliance, wasn't felled in one strike.
The moment the palms touched her belly, she flipped midair to evade. Then she drew her chain sword from her waist and whipped it.
Chaaaain.
The soft sword writhed like a snake left and right toward Joo Eun-ri's face.
A flexible sword that bent freely.
Moyong Hwa-jeong wore it coiled like a belt over her sash, drawing it for lethal strikes when foes let their guard down.
Or in desperate crises like this—her life-saving ace.
Forcing out Moyong Hwa-jeong's ace in one exchange showed Joo Eun-ri's preemptive attack's sharpness.
But with the soft sword infused with inner energy and bending at will, the tide turned instantly.
Jianghu common sense: equal skill, but one has a weapon? Three times the advantage.
And not just any weapon, but Moyong Hwa-jeong's lifelong treasured blade?
Anyone could see bare-handed Joo Eun-ri was several times disadvantaged!
But Joo Eun-ri had her own hidden card.
As the soft sword arced for her throat, she pulled something unidentified from her bosom and unfurled it swiftly.
Flutter.
The sword's wild swings clashed against Joo Eun-ri's weapon and halted.
Claaang.
"You dare block my soft sword..."
"The rumor that only famed sect elites wield custom blades is just idle gossip spread by jianghu enthusiasts."
"Fine, what's your weapon?"
Moyong Hwa-jeong's fierce gaze fixed on Joo Eun-ri's hand, then her crescent eyebrows furrowed deeply at what she saw.
"A fan?"
The weapon blocking the soft sword was a fan painted in black ink with antique landscape scenery.