A Turtle Who Became a Wall
Cheon Mutan seemed to draw his right shoulder back, then hurled out a finger strike like a bolt of lightning.
Crack!
But once again, it was blocked by a palm technique sweeping in from the side.
As his assault was turned aside again and again, confusion crept into Cheon Mutan’s eyes.
Why?
Why in the world?
The bastard had only just crawled out of a sickbed.
His breathing was ragged and shallow, and the way his thighs trembled made it plain that even keeping his balance was a struggle.
So why did it feel as though he were facing a wall?
Cheon Mutan gathered his demonic energy to the limit and twisted his whole body.
“Just... a nobody like you!”
Cheon Sohyeon calmly absorbed the storm of savage attacks that came crashing in like a squall.
Sama Ryang watched that exchange with admiration.
That’s no ordinary martial art.
It was an unfamiliar palm technique, but at a glance he could tell it contained profound principles.
It defended at the proper moments while conserving movement to the bare minimum. There was no wasted motion, no wasted force; the efficiency of it was almost frightening.
If that kind of back-and-forth kept going, which one of them would run out of stamina first?
There was no need to even ask. Sama Ryang clenched his fist and looked toward the Third Young Master.
Cheon Sohyeon had looked relaxed from beginning to end. He was sealing off everything Cheon Mutan threw at him—his fists, his kicks, even that irritating footwork.
He looked as solid as a fortress wall.
Amitabha! Amitabha!!
In truth, his mind was in rather a state.
Amitabhaaa!!
Blocking the clumsy attacks of that immature demon wasn’t especially difficult.
He saw through the feints mixed into the forms, the gaps left when the fists were withdrawn, even the tricks worked with wandering eyes.
But that was all he could do.
What kind of damned situation is this?
He was so busy parrying that he couldn’t even begin to counterattack. At his current level, all he could do was keep defending.
Kwaaaang!
“Kheh-heh.”
Having noticed as much, Cheon Mutan let out a sneer.
“You learned a martial art that suits your miserable lot perfectly. Hiding away and wasting your time like a fool really does suit you. Looking at you now, you’re less a lizard cut off from the world and more like a turtle.”
His crimson eyes flashed as he unleashed fist after fist without mercy.
“Tuck your head in and struggle all you want, you pathetic bastard!”
Bang! Crash!
Cheon Sohyeon grit his teeth under the repeated shocks. The fist-force he was catching with his hands was growing harder and harder to bear, so he couldn’t afford even the slightest lapse in attention.
When Cheon Mutan formed a sword seal with his index and middle fingers and raised his energy, the air split with a tearing sound as fresh wounds began to open one by one.
“Starting to feel it now, are you? From here on, you won’t even be able to look me in the eye—”
The moment Cheon Mutan opened his mouth, Cheon Sohyeon abruptly slipped out of range.
Thud!
Cheon Mutan instantly pressed forward, bearing down on him, and Cheon Sohyeon crossed both arms to scatter black energy outward.
“...!”
Judging a palm force was coming, Cheon Mutan hurriedly threw a straight punch.
Bang!
And Cheon Sohyeon did not miss the opening.
He drove a fist into the empty pit of Cheon Mutan’s chest, and it felt as though he’d punched a boulder. Judging by the way his expression jerked, it had at least landed properly.
“Hup!”
He parried the sharply rushing attack four or five times with Banya-jang, steadied himself, and then smashed a straight punch into the left side of Cheon Mutan’s abdomen.
Thud!
Cheon Mutan gave no outward reaction, but the force had struck where the organs were gathered, so the impact had to be severe.
“You little bastard...!”
Deciding to settle it once and for all, Cheon Mutan drew up his demonic energy to the fullest.
“You brought this on yourself!”
He unleashed fist energy on a completely different level from before.
The sight filled Cheon Sohyeon’s eyes with a dark gleam.
There it is!
At last, the bastard had thrown his composure away under the suffocating exchange.
Cheon Sohyeon drove deep into the ground with Myeong-wang-bo, closing the distance for the first time.
As he surged forward like a bolt of lightning, Cheon Mutan’s fist energy brushed his shoulder and smashed the furniture behind him to pieces.
Wooooong!!
Cheon Sohyeon slipped into Cheon Mutan’s embrace and squeezed his dantian dry, dragging every last remnant of energy to the surface.
“You’re dead.”
“...!”
At the very instant Cheon Mutan’s eyes widened as if they might split—
Crash!
His jaw was struck dead-on, and his body blasted through the door and vanished far into the distance.
* * *
On the lower floor of the tavern.
Kwaaaang!
Jin Gyeol, who had been keeping the serving staff under control, snapped his head around at the sudden explosion.
“...!”
At the same time, something crashed through the railing and fell to the floor below. Tables and chairs shattered, and dust billowed thickly into the air.
Then Jin Gyeol’s eyes went wide as saucers.
“S-Second Young Master!!”
What on earth had happened? Startled, he looked up—and there was Cheon Sohyeon.
“Well, he really did fly pretty far.”
Cheon Sohyeon gauged the height to the lower floor, then jumped down.
Thud!
Jin Gyeol asked with a sharp look in his eyes, “W-what in the world happened here?”
“We crossed hands upstairs, and the result, as you can see, is this.”
“How on earth—”
Cheon Sohyeon gathered his power to his fingertip and pressed it into Cheon Mutan’s blood points. It would be troublesome if the fool got up and started convulsing all of a sudden.
“Second Young Master! What are you doing...!”
“This is a matter between the heirs. Keep your composure and show proper respect.”
When Sama Ryang cut in, Jin Gyeol glared at him with bloodshot eyes.
“...What?”
Their auras collided in midair, and a pressure like a blade grazing the skin rippled through the room.
This bastard...
As Jin Gyeol struggled to swallow his surprise at that unexpectedly heavy aura—
“Get up, you fool.”
Cheon Sohyeon ignored him completely and grabbed Cheon Mutan by the shoulder, shaking him.
Perhaps because he knew the story of the body’s original owner, he hated the sight of Cheon Mutan sneering and mocking him at every turn.
Calling it heavenly fortune for a man who had fallen into despair and ended his own life?
Ridiculous. This one needed to be made to understand the situation properly.
“What the hell are you—”
“Shut up.”
Jin Gyeol never finished his sentence. Cheon Sohyeon stomped on the foot he had just stepped forward with.
Crash!
As his instep was ground beneath a crushing heel strike, Jin Gyeol’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets.
The instant he seemed about to roar, Cheon Sohyeon jabbed his blood point with a finger technique. It was Ngyeonghyeol-ji, a Shaolin finger technique focused on suppression. Fast and precise, it collapsed Jin Gyeol’s body where he stood.
Thud!
At that moment, a slight tremor crossed Cheon Mutan’s brow.
“...Do you truly want to die?”
“Huh?”
Cheon Sohyeon laughed in disbelief at the threat that burst out the moment he regained consciousness.
“Did you fall on your head or something? You really don’t know how to read the room.”
Cheon Mutan curled his lips into a thin smile.
“You’re the one who doesn’t know how to read the room. You think I came to the tavern alone? The Iron Blood Devil Family’s people will be here any moment now. Then someone like you, a halfwit—”
“Oh, is that so? I’m absolutely jealous. That’s filthy impressive.”
“...What?”
Cheon Sohyeon crouched and met his eyes.
“A family that’ll brag after its idiot gets beaten up by a man who’s been a corpse for half a year? Now that’s something to be jealous of.”
“...!”
Cheon Sohyeon grabbed Cheon Mutan by the collar, and the other man’s chin quivered.
“So when are they coming? Before I smash your dantian? Are they coming right now because I’m about to break it? Or are they standing around back there with swords drawn, waiting for the cue?”
“Y-you’ve gone mad? Then you—”
Cheon Sohyeon clicked his tongue.
“Mutan, you pathetic fool. Watch your words. Judging by the calluses on your hands, you must have learned a thing or two about swordsmanship, so where’d you go and sell your sword? Or did you leave your mind somewhere and start living without it? You miserable—”
“Urk.”
“Huh?”
Cheon Mutan’s face flushed red, and then he suddenly vomited blood.
“Kheh!”
He rolled his eyes back and threw his head away.
Was embarrassment only just now catching up to him?
No. A man who knew shame would never have lived looking like that in the first place.
“What are you doing, pretending to pass out? Get up. I’m not done talking.”
As Cheon Sohyeon gave him a rough shake, Sama Ryang quickly came over.
“P-please, young master!”
“What?”
“Just a moment, may I examine him?”
“Go ahead.”
Sama Ryang finished taking his pulse in no time and let out a breath of relief.
“It seems he lost consciousness due to a sudden rise in blood pressure. There should be no serious danger to his life.”
“So he couldn’t stand the anger and even spat up blood? The great Cheon Family or whatever, all that posturing, and his cultivation is that shallow? Right?”
“...Yes, more or less.”
Sama Ryang gave a small cough and offered a careful suggestion.
“Young master, how about stopping here?”
“I should. I was just trying to teach him some self-awareness, and he went and fainted. Looks like I won’t even get a meal out of this. Tch.”
Cheon Sohyeon looked around the mess that had become of the tavern, then called toward the kitchen.
“Owner! The place is a wreck. My apologies.”
Before long, there was a commotion from inside, and Jo Maeng-gil came running out of the kitchen.
“It’s all right, young master! Fighting in a tavern is a common occurrence, isn’t it? Keeping extra furniture and utensils on hand is basic preparation. You don’t need to worry about it at all!”
“I can’t let that be. I’m not the sort who can live owing debts. I’ll pay generously, so take it.”
“No, no, a few words are more than enough—”
“I said take it, so take it.”
Cheon Sohyeon took out a money pouch from his robes and handed it over.
Jo Maeng-gil accepted it with trembling hands.
As he had said, fights between martial artists in taverns were common enough. If anything, the unusual part was someone apologizing and offering compensation afterward, and the fact that this person happened to be the heir of the cult made his shoulders shake all the more.
“T-thank you!”
Sama Ryang smiled faintly at Cheon Sohyeon and said, “Young master, please go on ahead. I’ll handle a little treatment before I leave.”
“You’re staying behind alone?”
“Yes. It doesn’t look like serious internal damage, so I should be done quickly. And nothing unfortunate should come of this for either me or you, young master, so please don’t worry.”
Cheon Sohyeon chuckled and started walking.
“You’re worried over a bit of fisticuffs. Fine, I’m off.”
* * *
Sama Ryang carefully treated Cheon Mutan and calmed the surprise in his heart.
If he had not witnessed it himself, he would have found it impossible to believe.
...He knocked out the Second Young Master.
Though the Third Young Master did not seem to think much of it, this was clearly no trivial matter.
Even he, having watched the young man grow before his eyes, had thought defeat was all but certain—so how could anyone else easily accept this result?
There was no doubt it would swell into a major disturbance. Even the senior figures who had thought the Third Young Master had been completely cast out of the line of succession would have to revise their judgment.
It was proof that the rumor of the greatest talent in the divine cult had not been empty talk.
This incident might even gather a faction willing to stand with him...
Sama Ryang shook his head slightly.
The Iron Blood Family head is said to be a man of deep schemes. He’ll try to control the information.
There was a high chance he would try to bury the matter entirely. After all, it was an event that would become a major obstacle in Cheon Mutan’s future path.
Even so, there had been a gain.
They had confirmed that the Third Young Master possessed a rare martial talent and insight that could lead him to understanding without countless rounds of experience. Recalling the wisdom he had shown while persuading his great-uncle left no room for doubt.
So it really wasn’t the wrong choice after all.
As Sama Ryang stepped out of the tavern, a clear smile rested on his lips.
---