Chapter 51
Chapter 51
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 51
Chapter Title: Fear Sword's Home: Mad Demon Armor
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Inside the main gate, more than fifty people were lined up on either side. They were all employees of the Central High Citadel Caravan House.
"Welcome."
They bowed their heads in unison.
"Nice to meet you."
Luha nodded and headed inside.
The Central High Citadel Caravan House consisted of seven buildings and one training ground. At the end of the straight path from the main gate stood a three-story building, the main hall known as the Heavenly Pavilion. The path was wide enough for two carriages to pass each other.
A short while later, they arrived in front of the main hall. The building was surrounded by a low wall about three feet high. The sides protruded outward while the center recessed inward.
The first floor was a spacious grand hall.
"The first floor has the meeting room and quarters for the workers. The living quarters are on the third floor, and this second floor is the family head's office."
Luha explained the internal layout.
"There seem to be a lot of rooms..."
"There are fifty in total, but most are empty."
"In the past, those rooms had their owners, right?"
"Yes."
At that moment, an elderly man approached Ak Muyoo.
"Pleased to meet you. I am the chief steward, Heo Se-wook."
The old man greeted him.
"Nice to meet you. Are you from the Central Plains by any chance?"
"I was born here, but my father was from the Central Plains."
"I see. Go speak with the Family Mother first."
"Understood."
Heo Se-wook instructed a servant to prepare tea, then went to Luha. Luha moved to another spot and explained in detail the circumstances of Cha Sawoong's death and his final words.
"Is this your first time in the Cha Kingdom?"
Ak Muyoo asked Seo Haran and Mok Busung.
"Our operations are in the south, and this is the north. It's far, and there's nothing special here, so no reason to come."
"What's your impression of your first visit?"
"It's got some toughness to it—not bad."
A river in the desert is the best environment imaginable.
Ageukta said.
"I'm going out for some air."
Ak Muyoo stepped outside. As he did, Jabjong waddled after him sleepily.
He headed to the garden with Jabjong, where a young girl was coming inside. The girl, around ten years old, was as pretty as a doll.
Their eyes met in midair.
"You live here?"
Ak Muyoo asked first.
"The new family head?"
The girl asked back.
"Yeah."
Ak Muyoo nodded.
"What's your name?"
The girl asked.
"If you want someone else's name, you give yours first."
"I'm Haru."
"I'm Black Wind."
"Black Wind?"
"Yeah."
"What kind of name is that?"
"You're Haru, like one day out of one, two, or three days."
"...You're right."
"You live here?"
"Yeah."
"I want to learn about the place. Mind showing me around?"
"What about that dog..."
"It's a mutt that thinks it's a purebred."
Grrr!
Jabjong bared his teeth.
"Show those teeth one more time, and from now on, you're a panda. Got it, mutt?"
Grrr!
Thwack!
Yelp!
"Why'd you hit him!"
Arak Haru quickly shielded Jabjong.
"It's a rib-crunching pig-eater. Better keep your distance."
"Really?"
Woof!
"It understands words."
"That's not a dog—it's a yokai. A yokai."
"It's just cute."
"You gonna show me around?"
"Where do you want to go?"
"Any blacksmith around?"
"There is."
"Let's start there."
"Why the blacksmith?"
"Because of this."
Ak Muyoo showed the shackles on his wrist.
"Aren't those shackles?"
"Right."
"A prisoner?"
"Nah. This is what you attach them to."
He drew one Fear Sword and showed it.
"It looks ridiculous."
"It may look like this, but it's terrifyingly powerful."
"It does look pretty scary."
"Will you take me?"
"Sure."
Haru headed outside. Ak Muyoo followed her around the estate, taking in the sights as she chattered nonstop about everything.
"But..."
Haru looked at Ak Muyoo.
"You look like you've got a question."
"Other adults scold you for speaking casually..."
"And I don't?"
"Yeah."
"I speak casually too."
"But you're an adult."
"Am I?"
Ak Muyoo shrugged.
The two left the Central High Citadel Caravan House.
"Besides grapes, what else do they grow here?"
"Watermelons and wheat. Main foods are kari made with lamb and turmeric, and nan baked by spreading thin dough in a tandoor."
"You raise a lot of sheep?"
"Thousands up on that back mountain."
"You call a whole mountain the back mountain."
"It is the back one."
"Fair enough."
Ak Muyoo nodded.
"What happened to Uncle Sawoong?"
"He died."
"You knew before?"
"No."
"Then how'd you get the ring?"
"How'd you know I inherited it?"
"Uncle's martial arts are way weaker than Aunt Luha's. It doesn't make sense for someone weak to steal the Central Ring. And even if he did, who is Aunt Luha? If she didn't say anything, it means she acknowledged him. Acknowledgment means Uncle Sawoong left it to you in his will."
"You're sharp."
"I am. So what happened?"
"You... whose spy are you?"
Ak Muyoo thrust his face close to Arak Haru and yelled.
"Mommy! You scared me!"
"You're really a spy. Who sent you? That Cha Jiwoong bastard?"
"How do you know Cha Jiwoong?"
"'I'm Cha Jiwoong, heir to the Central High Citadel Caravan House,' he yelled as he charged."
"He is the heir."
"Even if he is, no need to brag in our faces, right?"
"What's that supposed to... Did you not tell anyone about Uncle Sawoong's death?"
"Just the two of you left—how would word get out?"
"So that Cha Jiwoong knew about Uncle Sawoong's death that no one else did?"
"Yeah."
"Then..."
"Is that the blacksmith?"
"Yeah."
"Grandpa Cheolmok!"
Haru ran into the blacksmith shop.
"Our little princess is here."
A copper-skinned old man emerged from inside. Though short enough to be called five feet of pure muscle, his body looked as hard as iron.
"Brought a guest."
"A guest?"
"Black Wind."
"The new head of the Central High Citadel Caravan House."
"Is that so?"
A glint appeared in Cheolmok's eyes.
'A martial artist. One on par with Ageukta, even.'
"That man..."
"Before he passed, he tossed this to me."
Ak Muyoo showed the ring.
"Why would he..."
"Brother—here, brother means that guy. I refused flat out, but he forced the sworn brotherhood on me. Anyway, after meeting that Cha Jiwoong punk, I kinda get why brother dumped the ring on me. I wouldn't give it to that bastard either."
"Kekekeke!"
Cheolmok chuckled merrily. Then he asked,
"But what brings you here?"
"To fix these."
Ak Muyoo placed the two Fear Swords on the table.
"These... heavens! How is a Fear Sword...!"
Cheolmok's eyes widened enormously.
"You know the Fear Sword?"
"Ah, no."
Cheolmok shook his head quickly.
"You seem to."
"There's writing engraved here. And it's so uniquely shaped."
"I'll buy that. Can you reattach these?"
Ak Muyoo pointed to the shackles on his wrist.
"Those look like shackles..."
"When I wield the Fear Sword and use footwork, the balance is all off. So I hooked it to these I found by chance, and it worked better."
"But why are they severed?"
"Ran into Jeok Yeom-cheon."
"Jeok Yeom-cheon—the fourth-ranked of the Desert Ten Heroes?"
Haru asked.
"Yeah."
"You fought him?"
"Fight's what you call it between equals. For a no-martial-arts scrub like me, it's not a fight—it's a one-sided beatdown."
"How'd you survive?"
"Jeok Yeom-cheon died, so I lived."
"You beat the fourth-ranked Desert Ten Hero?"
"Not beat—killed."
"What's the difference?"
"A lot."
"Like what?"
"In a fair fight, even if I died and came back, I couldn't kill Jeok Yeom-cheon. But pile on complex factors, and it changes. Like using Air-Walking to cross the Sand-Sucking Zone, or fighting a strong foe, or half-severing his ankle with a sharp weapon like the Fear Sword, or hitting him with a Dark Current Arrow, or tumbling off a cliff. Add those, and even the fourth-ranked Desert Ten Hero becomes just another punk."
"Still impressive."
"Anyway... can you fix it?"
Ak Muyoo turned to Cheolmok.
"First, we need to get those off."
"Here!"
Ak Muyoo extended his hand toward Cheolmok.
Cheolmok looked at Ak Muyoo.
"My wife bent them on. I can't."
"You really have no internal energy?"
"Not a speck."
"How did you... with a body like that..."
Cheolmok trailed off.
He couldn't believe someone without internal energy had taken down Jeok Yeom-cheon.
"I said complex factors make it possible. And the strong don't always win— that's just in spars. In life-or-death battles, the weak sometimes prevail."
"I see."
At that moment, Cheolmok pried open the shackles.
The skin inside on the wrists was a mess. It had peeled, peeled again, and was now rotting.
Both arms were the same.
"You need to wash first."
"Water..."
"It's in there."
Cheolmok led Ak Muyoo to the water inside. Ak Muyoo washed the wounds.
"Doesn't it hurt?"
Haru, who had followed, asked.
"Adults don't show pain."
"Mom whines over the tiniest scratch."
"Guess she's not an adult then."
"Thirty-nine—that's adult."
"My skin's thicker than most."
"How thick?"
"Like this."
Ak Muyoo showed his palm.
"Calluses?"
Ak Muyoo's palm had no pink flesh.
Aside from fingerprints, it was all pale yellow. Arak Haru pressed hard on the thickest spot with her nail.
"Ow!"
Ak Muyoo jumped and yelled.
"Oh, it hurts?"
"Of course not."
"Poor thing."
"I said it doesn't hurt—why pity me?"
"It's normal if it hurts."
"You're funny."
"Want to try this on?"
Cheolmok emerged from inside with a peculiar item. It looked like an arm guard strapped to the forearm, but a four-foot iron chain dangled from its end.
"What's that?"
"It's called the Mad Demon Armor."
Ak Muyoo stared at the peculiar device known as the Mad Demon Armor. It was armor or a cage to confine a Mad Demon.
"You call this guy a Mad Demon too?"
He pointed at the Fear Sword.
"...Yes."
Cheolmok nodded.