Chapter 26
Chapter 26
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: The Fall of the Cold Noodles Sword Ghost
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Thud!
The doomed Cold Noodles Sword Ghost tumbled to the floor with a loud crash.
"What... is this...?"
Go Gye-yeong stared back and forth between the corpse of the Cold Noodles Sword Ghost and Cheonhwi, who wore an utterly nonchalant expression, his face blank with shock.
'Why did the Cold Noodles Sword Ghost...?'
His mind grew intensely complicated.
Just moments ago, even someone as ignorant of martial arts as himself could feel the intense yin energy radiating from the sword as the Cold Noodles Sword Ghost charged in swinging it wildly.
But in stark contrast, Cheonhwi had merely raised his index finger, without even a hint of momentum.
The outcome had seemed obvious.
Yet what was this?
Suddenly, a brilliant red light flashed from his index finger, and the exact opposite result unfolded.
Cheonhwi stood there calmly with his finger still raised, while the Cold Noodles Sword Ghost—who had been swinging a blade exuding chilling yin energy—collapsed as a corpse even colder than that yin qi.
'From the momentum alone, the Cold Noodles Sword Ghost looked ready to cleave him in half...'
Gulp.
In this unexpected situation, his throat felt parched, and Go Gye-yeong's Adam's apple bobbed.
But that lasted only a moment.
'Even if I, who's lived my whole life as a merchant, rack my brains, I'll never figure it out...'
He quickly cut off his train of thought.
For someone who didn't even know the first thing about martial arts, it was something he'd never understand.
Digging into it would only give him a headache.
Right now, there was only one thing he needed to do.
Express his gratitude to the Mount Hua Sect Daoist who had saved him, his wife, and the entire North Wind Merchant Group—his benefactor.
"My deepest thanks for your help, benefactor."
He immediately bowed deeply toward the young Daoist before him, offering a formal salute.
"Th-thank you... for your help."
Her two trembling hands barely clasped together, her face drained of color.
And it was no wonder. In less than the time it took to burn a single incense stick, she had witnessed a nonstop parade of horrors.
From the sudden ambush, to the deaths of the escorts protecting her, to the flames and screams rising within the merchant group.
And that was not all.
The acrid smoke still stinging her nose was more than enough to plunge her mind into chaos.
Any ordinary woman would still be in shock, unable to regain her senses—but she clung desperately to her reason.
Because she was the lady of the North Wind Merchant Group.
However, Cheonhwi felt no particular emotion upon receiving their sincere thanks.
No, he wasn't even paying attention to them.
His gaze was fixed on the Cold Noodles Sword Ghost sprawled on the floor in a large "大" shape.
His body had heated up from the rare taste of killing intent, so he had deliberately waited for the enemy to unleash his true ultimate technique...
'Why is he so feeble?'
The excitement that had built up in his body cooled in an instant.
He felt massive disappointment toward the Cold Noodles Sword Ghost, who had died instantly before even properly deploying his martial arts.
Flick.
He turned his gaze.
The man and woman looking up at him were still trembling in fear.
"I've taken care of everything."
He answered flatly, confirmed they were safe, and turned to leave.
'I've saved the two of them for now, so this place is done.'
As he finished protecting the North Wind Merchant Group's leader—which had been the top priority among his missions—and headed for the shattered door,
"W-where are you going?"
Go Gye-yeong asked urgently.
Perhaps because they had been cornered just moments ago, he couldn't hide his anxiety at the sight of Cheonhwi leaving.
Cheonhwi twisted his head to look at him.
Grasping his feelings in an instant, he replied with an annoyed expression.
"If you're anxious, follow me."
With that, he stepped out the door.
"Dear."
"My lady."
Go Gye-yeong and Yeon Su-ran exchanged glances, their faces stiff, then followed behind.
Gasp!
Huh!
Go Gye-yeong and Yeon Su-ran, following behind, gasped in shock and covered their mouths with their hands.
The corridor was filled entirely with corpses.
"When did all these bodies...!"
Go Gye-yeong's eyes shook.
Seeing that most weren't wearing the North Wind Merchant Group's attire, it was clear these were the intruders.
And what that implied was simple.
The one who had created this massacre was none other than the Daoist walking ahead.
And he had done it so stealthily that even the Cold Noodles Sword Ghost inside hadn't noticed.
"As expected of the Mount Hua Sect..."
Go Gye-yeong's eyes sparkled as he stared at Cheonhwi's back, walking ahead.
Step. Step.
In truth, the sight of the Daoist walking through the corpses was quite eerie.
And though he was a Daoist, his hands were ruthless—but what did that matter now?
He was an ally, not an enemy.
'He's like a heavenly army of a million against ten thousand demons.'
Go Gye-yeong's face lit up with delight.
At that moment, as Cheonhwi—who had been walking ahead—stepped outside, he furrowed his brow.
'What's this? It still hasn't ended?'
The moment he exited the inner quarters, he was greeted by the acrid smoke of battle stinging his nose.
* * *
"Kuh!"
Jeokgeom gritted his teeth at the enemies that kept multiplying no matter how many he cut down.
They were outnumbered.
There were only five Plum Blossom Sword Guards, but the mysterious warriors numbered well over fifty by rough count.
"This isn't the time for this!"
Jeokgeom shouted loudly.
He was extremely anxious right now.
'I need to hurry inside!'
The moment he saw the devastation in the North Wind Merchant Group, his vision had already gone red. On top of that, the uncertainty of his parents' survival inside weighed heavily on his mind.
"Get out of my way!"
As he roared and swung his sword,
Screee!
A sharp whistling sound flew toward him.
"...!"
Jeokgeom whipped his head around in alarm.
A warrior's sword was thrusting straight for his temple.
He hurriedly redirected the sword he had been swinging.
Clang!
He barely deflected it with his blade, but the impact made his sword waver.
"Senior Brother!"
At that moment, Seollan cried out.
Having desperately created distance from the warrior in front of her, she shouted once more.
"Get a grip! What will you do if Martial Uncle sees you like this?"
Jeokgeom flinched at her sharp advice.
Cheonhwi was someone he both revered and feared more than anyone.
Normally, he treated everything with annoyance and half-heartedness, but when it came to martial arts, he was more thorough and cold than anything else.
If he saw this...
Shudder.
Jeokgeom trembled.
"...Thanks, Junior Sister."
Regaining his calm, he assessed the surroundings and lightly gripped his sword.
His sword moved.
Whoosh!
A thick plum blossom scent spread in all directions.
It was his personal Plum Blossom Sword Art, honed every single day for the past year.
Slash!
He severed the arm of the ambushing warrior.
"Arghhh!"
The warrior looked at his severed elbow, writhing in agony and rolling on the ground.
Jeokgeom's eyes were indifferent as he watched.
If this had been his first time cutting down an opponent, the screams and unfamiliar sensation on his hands might have shaken his reason—but he remained composed.
'...The training wasn't in vain.'
Was it thanks to the real combat experience from hunting?
The him who had been overwhelmed by the pressure of the spar five years ago was gone.
All that remained was Jeokgeom of the Plum Blossom Sword Guards.
Whoosh!
Jeokgeom continued unfolding the Plum Blossom Sword Art.
His sword, carrying the plum blossom scent, felled opponents without hesitation, and Seollan did the same, slicing through her foes.
"That's more like it."
Cheonhwi, who had been watching, muttered.
This scene wouldn't normally satisfy him, but there was something else that furrowed his brow even more.
"Compared to those guys, anyway."
With a look of pity, Cheonhwi glanced at the rest of the Plum Blossom Sword Guards, excluding the two.
"Huff, huff."
"Is everyone alright?"
"I'm dying here."
Jeokjae, Jeokun, and Jeokbi were struggling against the cooperating Tyrant King Sect disciples.
'Tsk, those guys lack real combat experience too.'
Clearly, the Plum Blossom Sword Guards' skill levels and martial prowess far surpassed the Tyrant King Sect disciples ahead.
But what good did that do?
When they were getting pummeled like dogs.
'Compared to those three, Jeokgeom and Seollan are like fairies.'
As Cheonhwi clicked his tongue,
"Let's fight fair and square, one-on-one..."
Jeokun glared and opened his mouth.
"Puhahaha!"
But before Jeokun could finish, the Tyrant King Sect disciples burst into laughter.
"What idiots. Fair and square? In the jianghu?"
"What was Mount Hua thinking, sending out greenhorns like these?"
Watching Jeokun and Jeokjae charge in rage at the mockery, Cheonhwi wore a pathetic expression.
"Struggling against trash like that. Sigh."
Cheonhwi let out a deep sigh.
"What a waste of the martial arts they've learned."
As he summed up his evaluation of them in one phrase, a surge of killing intent came from the side.
"Die!"
Screech!
A Tyrant King Sect disciple suddenly lunged, stabbing toward Cheonhwi's side.
In that split second, the sword tip closed in.
Boom!
An explosion rang out, and a pillar shattered.
Roll roll.
He pierced straight through the pillar in an instant, tumbling into the midst of the Tyrant King Sect disciples in a mangled, unrecognizable state.
As silence fell between the fighting Plum Blossom Sword Guards and Tyrant King Sect disciples,
"Martial Uncle?"
"When did you arrive?"
Jeokgeom and Seollan beamed brightly.
In their disadvantaged situation, Cheonhwi's appearance was like a ray of light.
"There was another one?"
In contrast, the Tyrant King Sect disciples sharpened their gazes and tightened their grips on their swords.
"You bastard!"
"How dare you to our sect's disciples!"
"Kill him! Everyone, kill that guy!"
Seeing them charge from all directions at once, Cheonhwi let out a cold sneer.
A chilling, goosebump-inducing smile.
"You've all gone mad wanting to die."
Thud! Thud!
With dull thuds, the five charging warriors sprayed blood as they fell.
Grab!
Cheonhwi spun around and seized the neck of a Tyrant King Sect disciple ambushing from behind.
"Sp-spare...!"
Looking at the man flailing and begging, Cheonhwi snapped his neck with an impassive expression.
Crack.
The unpleasant sound spread, and the Tyrant King Sect disciples' faces turned ghastly pale.
In the blink of an eye, six of their comrades had met their end—a sight sufficient to plant the seeds of terror in them.
But they didn't know.
That this was only the beginning.
Shimmer.
In that instant, his figure blurred, and he suddenly appeared amid the Tyrant King Sect disciples.
Gasp!
"...!"
They swiftly swung their weapons at the suddenly appearing Cheonhwi.
Thump!
But their weapons sliced futilely through empty air.
And then a sound like bursting drums echoed loudly as their uniforms ballooned outward.
"Kuhk!"
"Gurgle..."
They vomited blood, knees buckling as they slowly collapsed.
Shudder.
"I-internal Heavy Hand Technique?"
One who recognized the feat Cheonhwi had just performed stared in stunned disbelief.
Was the Internal Heavy Hand Technique an easy realm to reach?
It was something only a sect leader could typically achieve.
Yet this young Daoist wielded it with ease.
Drip.
As sweat beaded on the Tyrant King Sect disciples' foreheads upon seeing Cheonhwi draw steadily closer,
"What are you doing? Come on. If you don't, I'll come to you."
With those words, Cheonhwi kicked off the ground.
As he shot forward like an arrow,
"You!"
A man of massive build appeared, blocking Cheonhwi's path.
"Squad Leader!"
"The Squad Leader's here!"
The Tyrant King Sect disciples' faces brightened.
The man in black robes was the leader of the Tyrant Dominion Squad that ambushed the North Wind Merchant Group—and one of the top three experts of the Tyrant King Sect: Mount Tai One Fist.
"You. You won't stop that cruel hand of yours..."
As he blocked the way with a stern expression and shouted,
Thud!
"Kuhk!"
The massive man flew backward, crashing into the wall.
Boom!
"...!"
As the Tyrant King Sect disciples gaped in shock, Cheonhwi—the one who had sent him flying—tilted his head and spoke.
"What is that guy?"