Chapter 22
Chapter 22
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: An Inner Core Worse Than an Egg
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Thud!
"Cha-ha!"
Thud!
"Damn it! Ta-ha!"
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Thud!
"Argh! Whatever! My luck is just rotten. You love inner cores, huh? I swallowed two of them, and my stomach doesn't even hurt. Where in the world is there an inner core like that? Even an egg would make your belly swell. This thing... Arrrgh!"
He bellowed out his frustration and pressed forward.
The path he trod was the footprints of the Mad Thousand Blood Steps. Running was impossible, so this time he walked. Even so, keeping his balance was no easy task. He'd only gone once, and sweat was already beading on his forehead. He took off his robe and set it aside.
Then he walked again.
He never dreamed that the footprints meant to propel him forward held so many changes.
It was a foot technique, yet his center of gravity wouldn't stabilize at all.
No matter how much he swung his arms, his feet tangled, and he fell. When he fell, he got up and walked, only to fall again while walking.
With nothing else to do, he kept moving without rest.
After two days, he grew somewhat accustomed to the positions of the footprints. This time, he tried picking up a bit of speed.
He still fell.
Even knowing where to place his feet, he couldn't stop himself from tumbling. Repeating the falls took another day. Mil-un's words had been right—he wouldn't feel hunger. Three days of nonstop falling, and still no hunger pangs. If anything, he felt stronger.
On the fifth day, he realized something crucial: feet alone wouldn't cut it. To avoid falling, he had to swing his arms. He spent the whole day swinging his arms like a madman.
Arms alone weren't enough. So he pulled out his club. He figured using its weight would help him maintain balance. It wasn't perfect, but the number of falls decreased.
By the tenth day, he was more accustomed to it.
He'd started running two days prior, managing to stay upright more often even when it felt like he might topple.
The moment he was about to crash, he swung his right arm hard to right himself, then moved his legs again. As time passed, his limbs' movements grew a bit more natural.
When his body pitched deeply forward, he swung his arms with force; if the fall was slower, he eased the swing.
"What surprised me is that the old man's words were spot on."
The Mad Thousand Blood Steps grew more astonishing the more he practiced.
A thousand steps forward, and every arm motion was different. Not a single repeat.
"But..."
Ak Muyoo tilted his head.
No weapon matched the swinging arms. He tried imagining gripping one while swinging—swords, sabers, spears, none fit.
The best among them was the Solar Heaven Sword, but even that had a mismatched center of gravity.
"If I attached a blade to the tip of the Solar Heaven Sword, it'd be a perfect match."
It was a solution Ak Muyoo came up with.
"For now..."
He just needed to master it.
After that, he threw himself into it obsessively, memorizing all thousand steps and arm movements in just over twenty days. Actually, he didn't need to memorize the arm movements. The swings to maintain balance were the arm technique, and those formed the Mad Blood Calamity Demon Flow.
"I've got it, old man."
He'd said it while shoving Ma Cheon and Mil-un into the pit.
[This is just the beginning, you fool. You've barely taken your first steps.]
"I know that. With nothing else to do, I'll stamp the ground a hundred times a day. But I won't get my hopes up. Because I'm a martial cripple. A body that can't learn martial arts."
He buried the two of them.
He made a grave mound and exited the cave.
The sand waterfall was unchanged.
"Just how long has it been since I last ate?"
He rubbed his belly and climbed the crater wall. The crater was about ten zhang deep, with the sand waterfall hidden inside—not easy to spot from outside.
Soon, he emerged from the pit.
"It'd be nice if there was an oasis nearby..."
Ak Muyoo closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"No law says I have to die."
He grinned. The scent of water tickled his nose. An oasis wasn't far.
"There'll be fish at the oasis."
He started running. Normally, he'd use the Beast Blood Demon Art, but not today. What he unleashed as he ran was the Mad Thousand Blood Steps he'd practiced nonstop for the past twenty days.
Flat ground and sand were different beasts.
He kept falling just like when he first learned it. Fall, get up, run; fall again, get up, run. Since he'd already mastered it, he adapted quickly.
In two shichen, he executed it perfectly. He ran again, choking on sand dust.
And at last, he reached the oasis.
The oasis was larger than expected.
From left to right, it spanned at least a hundred zhang. He lay flat on the sandy ground and scouted it. Running into a Blood Wolf clansman by bad luck would mean certain death.
He pulled out the stomach-cloak he'd been stuffing things into, draped it over himself, and advanced slowly. His pace was deliberate. A distance he could cover in one geng took a full shichen. At the oasis entrance, he pressed his ear to the ground and listened intently. Fortunately, no one was inside.
"Let's go."
He sprang up and dashed into the oasis.
Upon arrival, he stripped off his clothes. Down to his undergarments, he plunged into the water.
He drank his fill, washed his hair, and scrubbed off the sand caked on his body. Once clean, his stomach growled.
"Fish."
He went out, grabbed his club, and returned to the water.
"Where are you?"
He scanned the oasis.
"That spot looks good."
He spotted water plants swaying and approached cautiously. Peering into the depths, he suddenly raised his club high.
"Cha-ha-ha-ha!"
With a mighty shout, he smashed down mercilessly.
Crack!
Striking the water with the club produced a sound like splitting wood. The water parted left and right, an immense pressure slamming the depths.
"Come out!"
Ak Muyoo bellowed.
A fish floated up, belly white, stunned by the shock. Ak Muyoo snatched it and tossed it ashore.
"Ta-ha-ha-ha!"
The second strike split the water again, even more than before—the bottom was visible.
"Is it because I absorbed that inner core? Feels like my strength's improved."
This time, three fish surfaced.
Two were as thick as his forearm.
"Let's catch just two more."
He raised the club again.
"A-ja-ja-ja-ja-ja!"
Splat!
The water split once more, and soon fish bobbed up here and there—not the two he wanted, but six.
He threw them all to the lakeshore and washed his body again. The wound on his chest had healed miraculously, leaving only a scar.
"Now for laundry."
He went to his clothes, emptied his possessions, and washed them. They were sand-encrusted. Especially his pockets—sand poured out like he'd stuffed it in on purpose.
He wrung out the clothes thoroughly, shook them, hung them to dry, and picked up his knife.
"Huh?"
His eyes widened. Words were engraved on the club's surface. He set down the knife and examined the club.
Secret Heaven Ruyi Ink
The text was in an ancient script, incised deeply.
Ak Muyoo turned the club this way and that. The lion-head pommel looked impressive, but the octagonal body screamed constable's club—nothing more, nothing less. And yet, "Secret Heaven Ruyi Ink"?
"A pearl necklace on a pig."
Ak Muyoo chuckled.
He tossed the club aside, grabbed the knife, and headed back to the shore. The freshly caught fish were starting to flop, regaining consciousness.
He placed one on a rock and scaled it. Scales came off easily from tail to head.
"Perfect fit."
Ak Muyoo beamed. It scaled like a fish knife. He finished scaling, slit the belly, removed the guts, rinsed it in water, and set it aside. He handled fish expertly.
"You think I haven't done this? I worked half a year at a fish shop."
It had started grandly.
He'd worked hard dreaming of opening his own fancy fish shop like the owner. If the owner's daughter hadn't teased him about the fish smell, he might've stayed longer. But her nickname "fishy" hurt, and he stormed out.
If she hadn't been so pretty, he could've endured. But she was... too pretty.
He quickly scaled and gutted them. Ten fish in total.
He'd aimed for five, but caught double.
"Now to fillet."
He looked around, fetched broad leaves, and spread them out. He cleaned the rock slab, placed a fish on it, inserted the blade by the gills, and sliced toward the tail. Flesh separated cleanly from the bones.
Almost no meat left on the bones—perfect. He filleted the other side, rinsed the bones, set them aside, and popped a piece in his mouth.
"Tears welling up."
His eyes genuinely stung.
How long since he'd eaten? And fish was damn delicious. Fatty and chewy, with a nutty savoriness.
One fish vanished in seconds.
He filleted hastily. This time, he cut a piece in half. He savored it slowly. Freshness meant no fishy smell, no earthy river taste.
"Good."
Ak Muyoo grinned wide. After five fish nonstop, his hunger ebbed.
"Now for sides."
He picked up a bone from the leaves. Put the tail end in his mouth and crunched.
"Chewing the bones is no joke either."
Beaming happily, he filleted the rest, bones and flesh together this time.
"Dried-out fish has its own delight."
He finished processing, gathered the guts, and scattered them where he'd caught the fish.
"That's called chum."
He planned to rest at the oasis for two or three days, recover, then leave. Crossing the desert would need more food—he'd catch more fish.
"Gather up."
Outside, he cinched the belt he called Solar Heaven Sword Armor around his waist and attached the club. Still naked, of course.
"What's this now?"
As he sheathed the knife, he spotted writing. The grime must've flaked off during fish prep.
Plunder Demon
A somewhat eerie name.
He wiped the surface with another blade. More "Plunder Demon" engraving.
Ak Muyoo examined it closely, tilting his head. He hooked a finger in the rear ring and swung lightly.
"Hmm... You're best as a knife."
He attached Plunder Demon to his belt, tucked the Heaven God Solar Bow at his side, gathered his clothes and cut fish. He'd go naked till the clothes dried.
"Now to find a place to rest."
He surveyed the oasis.
It seemed untouched by humans—the woods were dense. His eyes lit on a suitable spot.
A hillock ringed by trees, sheltered from wind, good for watching the desert.
Just as he'd thought.
The thick foliage kept sand off the ground. No sand meant no wind.
"Tonight, I'll sleep deeply without the Myriad Phenomena Great Heaven Force..."
Swoosh!
Out of nowhere, a sharp aura shot toward his heart.