Chapter 26
Chapter 26
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: Perfect Thunder Fist
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‘A perfect… Thunder Fist. Was that footwork Infinite Step?’
Namgung Jangcheon stared at Namgung Hyeok with trembling eyes.
The punch, swung as if carelessly, had turned the charging opponent’s momentum against him, delivering a concise, lightning-fast strike to the vital point.
It was a move impossible without fully mastering the essence of the Thunder Fist.
No one below a certain caliber could even imitate it.
Yet Namgung Hyeok had executed it with effortless naturalness, surpassing that caliber entirely.
‘He’s only been learning martial arts for a month?’
Was this something achievable in just one month?
‘But he did it, didn’t he?’
My Hyeok.
My son.
‘Ha, hahaha…’
What kind of common sense-defying event was this!
To accomplish in a mere month of training what typically required a decade of practice!
A martial prodigy!
Namgung Jangcheon pretended to stroke his beard, pressing down on his rising lips.
Even so, he couldn’t hide the quivering tips of his beard.
But right now, no one paid any mind to Namgung Jangcheon’s wildly fluttering beard.
Clang.
Namgung Baek dropped the teacup he was holding.
His mouth fell wide open.
“Wha… what…”
Mumbling in blank shock and astonishment, Namgung Baek realized his slip and quickly shut his mouth.
How long did that silence last?
“Urk, urgh!”
Namgung Jeong, who had crashed into the pine tree and was drooling, staggered unsteadily to his feet.
As he rose, he doubled over at the waist.
“Guhh, heuk.”
Like someone pulled from underwater, he desperately gasped for air.
His pupils shook nonstop as he panted heavily.
‘What… what the hell is this? What happened? Urgh!’
A white-hot pain surged from his chest, blanking his mind.
His breaths came in ragged hitches, his organs churning as if in turmoil.
“Eugh, urgh!”
After heaving for breath for a while, Namgung Jeong rolled his eyes side to side.
The sparring hall, rowdy as a marketplace when he had entered, was now deathly silent.
Everyone stared at him in stunned silence.
He realized this wasn’t the time for this.
Face flushed beet red, Namgung Jeong strode toward the arena.
His trembling cheeks betrayed his unsettled heart.
Stumbling and swaying side to side, he barely climbed onto the stage.
“Siiiip! Hooo!”
Namgung Jeong stretched like he was yawning, bending and straightening his body to regulate his breathing.
The crowd looked at him with baffled expressions.
They couldn’t fathom why Namgung Jeong, who had been knocked out, was climbing back onto the arena.
Faces full of confusion and bewilderment turned toward him.
Namgung Jeong turned toward the flustered leaders.
A groan escaped, piercing their ears.
He plastered on a smile that was obviously forced.
His quivering lips were the crowning touch.
“I… went too far with the joke. I wasn’t… urk… prepared, but can we start now?”
“……”
“……”
Prepared?
What… preparation?
It was an absurd situation, but Namgung Jeong was utterly serious.
An awkward silence hung over the leaders.
Every time Namgung Jeong twitched as he spoke calmly, their gazes flicked to Namgung Baek.
‘…What do we do about this?’
‘He got careless… It’s not over until he stays down.’
‘Well, yeah.’
‘Doesn’t seem like it at all.’
Namgung Baek snapped out of his daze.
He steadied his trembling eyes and looked at Namgung Jeong.
Their gazes met.
Namgung Baek asked quietly, very quietly.
“…Are you really okay?”
Namgung Jeong thrust out his chest.
“I’m fine, eugh.”
“……”
“Really, I’m fi—urk.”
Drip.
Namgung Baek’s heart sank as he saw the blood trickling from Namgung Jeong’s mouth.
…My son?
“To the… medical hall…”
“I’m fine. Perfectly fine. I can do this!”
Namgung Jeong stared at Namgung Baek with blazing eyes.
After a brief silence, Namgung Baek spoke.
“This is in front of the family elders and retainers. No more joking around. Take this seriously!”
His low but forceful voice echoed softly through the training ground.
The stern, weighty tone carried an aura heavy enough to crush a mountain.
The spectators, overawed, could only roll their eyes without even breathing properly.
“It seems Jeong wasn’t properly prepared. On his behalf, I apologize for the excessive joking. Please forgive him generously.”
“Ahem, ahem!”
“Hmm!”
The elders turned away with awkward coughs.
Namgung Jeong politely clasped his hands in respect.
He nearly staggered but barely held steady, his body tilting slightly before he bowed his head without a word.
“Family Head! I’m sorry!”
“Hmm! Ahem!”
Namgung Jangcheon let out an inscrutable grunt while sweeping back his beard.
Each sweep came with repeated coughs as he slyly turned his head aside.
Namgung Baek beside him shot a quick glance.
Namgung Jeong turned and offered the same clasped respect to the crowd.
His face ripened like a persimmon with each gesture, but no one paid it much mind.
Even the bewildered spectators began tilting their heads one by one.
“Is he… serious?”
“Right? The Sword Tiger couldn’t lose that easily.”
“No way he flew off because of the Seventh Young Master?”
“There’s no way he’d lose to the Seventh. He just joked too hard.”
“Namgung Jeong isn’t someone who’d fly off that easily!”
“This isn’t playtime. Ahem, well, if he gets serious now…”
“I thought the Sword Tiger lost for a second. Ha, haha!”
The crowd nodded in agreement one by one.
It was far more convincing that Namgung Jeong had been knocked off while fooling around than that Namgung Hyeok had sent him flying in one move.
People naturally gravitated toward the more probable explanation.
The retainers, initially puzzled, quickly latched onto Namgung Jeong’s words.
Namgung Hyeok frowned as he watched the situation unfold.
‘Lull him to sleep nicely, and he gets up to cause trouble again?’
No, but was it really that weird that I sent that guy flying in one strike?
Huh, getting pissed?
You bastards! If it were me back then, a punk like that with no blood dried on his head would’ve been minced into jerky with my pinky by now…
‘Sigh, what’s the point dwelling on the past.’
Namgung Hyeok let out a hollow laugh.
The whole situation was ridiculous the more he thought about it—absurd and deflating.
Having to deal with the hassle again irked him.
“You bastard, urk, you caught me off guard with a sneak attack, but I’ll make you pay.”
“Didn’t sneak attack you, punk.”
Namgung Hyeok shook his head.
“I’ll kill you!”
Namgung Jeong, hair disheveled and covered in dirt, glared at Namgung Hyeok with a twisted face.
Something seemed to drip from his bloodshot eyes.
It was a murderous aura, but Namgung Hyeok brushed it off lightly.
Namgung Hyeok gave Namgung Jeong a bored look, then sighed deeply once more.
“Whew, how’d I end up tangled with this blood clot.”
How big’s the age gap?
Not even grandson age. More like ancestor.
Like those old family tales: some ancestor left behind wealth to sustain generations.
“What a load of crap.”
Namgung Jeong’s brow twitched.
“I won’t fall for cheap taunts anymore. I got careless. This time, I’ll go all out.”
“Do whatever.”
Namgung Hyeok dug in his ear. His face screamed annoyance.
“Don’t get cocky just because one lucky hit landed! I haven’t even shown a shred of my skill.”
Yeah, yeah, sure.
But you coming or what? All talk, flapping that tongue.
Sigh, punk. Back then, anyone below Sword King couldn’t even talk to me.
Something unimaginable in the old days.
“Let’s hurry. Hurry up. Busy. Time for my meds.”
“You arrogant fool!”
“Hey! Come on! Come at me! Should I go to you? Damn, shut that tongue!”
“You scum!”
Blood vessels bulged in Namgung Jeong’s eyes, his ferocious aura laced with killing intent.
It was a savagery unimaginable for a righteous sect’s junior.
Whooo!
Sword energy gathered on the bladeless training sword.
Enough to shred ordinary iron plate in an instant.
“Even as a cripple, you yap away.”
“Hah.”
Sword King needs to see this.
Sword King, your descendant says he made me a cripple.
End of days, end of days.
As Namgung Hyeok let out an incredulous chuckle, Namgung Jeong moved.
Crack!
Namgung Jeong was serious.
He had completely shed his initial contempt for Namgung Hyeok.
No, he wasn’t thinking about what came after.
Lone Soul Sword Strike.
One of the Namgung family’s secret ultimate techniques.
A killing sword art that exploded toward a single target.
Boom!
With a vigorous stomp, the sword swung.
Energy from his dantian surged into the blade, ready to erupt.
Just as it prepared to explode toward the target.
Thwack!
“Gah!”
A crisp sound and heavy impact transmitted from his skull.
Namgung Jeong’s pupils shook.
‘What… what? When?’
It was bewildering.
He had clearly moved first ahead of Namgung Hyeok, so why was the impact hitting his own head?
Namgung Jeong gritted his teeth.
Steadying his wobbling body, he stomped again.
Lone Soul…!
Thwack!
“Urk!”
His head snapped to the other side. A heavier blow than before.
‘Urgh! Why, why me?!’
Namgung Hyeok had only started learning martial arts a month ago.
He couldn’t comprehend how this guy with the Nine Yin Meridians and a porcelain body was striking him.
It was more bewildering since he’d thought he could kill Namgung Hyeok easier than wringing a chicken’s neck.
The onlookers were just as baffled.
Namgung Jeong, who vowed to get serious, was doing nothing but getting pushed back repeatedly—it went beyond frustrating to downright eerie.
But soon, something even more shocking happened.
As Namgung Hyeok was gleefully pummeling Namgung Jeong, his wrist suddenly bent at an unnatural geometric angle.
Namgung Hyeok, in the midst of thrashing, paused and grimaced.
Crack! Pop.
His hand dangled limply.
Flop, flop!
Bewilderment spread across the spectators’ faces.
“Huh?”
“What… what’s that?”
“…Why’s it like that?”
Why’s his hand flopping around?
Heads tilted one way, then cries of shock erupted here and there.
“B-broke?!”
“Broke?!”
The crowd freaked out.
No way, why’d the winner’s hand break?
Hit with a wooden sword, why’s the wrist dislocated?
It wasn’t just the crowd who were baffled.
The elders in the seats were equally stunned.
But Namgung Jangcheon was the most shocked of all.
‘H-Hyeok?!’
Namgung Jangcheon’s body lurched as if he’d rush over any second.
A genius for sure, but his body was still porcelain.
Seeing Namgung Hyeok’s dislocated, dangling wrist, Namgung Jangcheon clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his scream.
“H… urk!”
At that moment.
Boom!
“Gaaah!”
With a drumskin-bursting sound, Namgung Jeong, who had clung close, flew backward.
A crack formed in Namgung Jangcheon’s anxious face.
His hand, raised to cover his mouth, naturally swept back his beard.
“Ha… ahem.”
His beard quivered.
‘That’s my boy, doing great!’
Yeah, bones can be reset!
Heh heh hem.
Good job, my boy.
Hit him more. More.