Raiding the Jambong Sect -1
“Hwaaaaam.”
I walked the streets alongside Heukmyo, who kept yawning without end. Even if she stood at the very edge of the Peak Realm, three straight days of nonstop movement day and night had clearly piled the fatigue high.
“Why don’t you head inside and rest?”
“Nah… I’m a Sichuan Nangin too, after all.”
She mumbled the words, but I knew exactly what she was thinking.
Thirty-one martial artists still remained inside the Jambong Sect. Even excluding Elder Gae Myeong-bu, there were ten Peak experts and twenty First-rate fighters among the rest.
The Nangins of the Wanderer Inn numbered twenty-eight in total—nine Peak including Heukmyo, and eighteen First-rate.
Pure combat strength put the Sichuan Nangins at a slight disadvantage, and we were short on Peak experts as well.
So even exhausted, she had come along to lend a hand.
“Huhu, having Young Lady Heukmyo, the strongest among the Sichuan Nangins, join us is truly reassuring.”
“Mm. The more allies, the better.”
Heukmyo seemed awkward under the sudden flood of praise from every side. She glanced around, then abruptly stuffed a handful of puffed rice into her mouth and started chewing.
The Nangins burst into hearty laughter at the sight.
Apparently her reputation among them had risen—thanks to the way she had protected the Nangins during the earlier clash with the Makyeo Clan, and the fact that she had dragged her tired body out for this operation as well.
We kept walking and soon arrived at the Jambong Sect. Its gates stood tightly shut.
We had no way of knowing the situation inside, but opening the gates and letting their martial artists roam about would have drawn too many stares. Every martial artist worth the name in Sichuan had already left for the bandit subjugation. Simply remaining behind was already a disgrace, so locking the gates and playing dead was the wisest course.
To enter the Jambong Sect we first had to open those gates. That was when Ja So-gyeong stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.
“I’ve always wanted to smash the front gate of a sect that struts around so proudly. Mind if I take this one?”
“By all means.”
While the Nangins traded those words, I scanned the surroundings. Past the townsfolk who had frozen in shock at the sudden appearance of a Sichuan Nangin pack, I spotted Yeo Il-ye waiting up on a rooftop.
“Hrm…”
A few Nangins who followed my gaze let out uncomfortable groans, but I had already told them Yeo Il-ye would take part in the operation, so no real trouble broke out.
“Let’s begin.”
At my word, Ja So-gyeong gathered internal energy into his arms. Among the native Sichuan Nangins, he was currently the strongest after Heukmyo—for a very simple reason.
Ja So-gyeong was a fist master who specialized in hard-style palm techniques. He was the one who had fully learned and could freely use the Fierce Tiger Fist Method that Tang Do-gyeong had taught him.
“Hup!”
He was also the one who could apply the Fierce Tiger Fist Method best in actual combat.
Tang Do-gyeong would now focus on developing the Tang Family Fierce Tiger Hidden Dragon Combat Method, so Ja So-gyeong could be called the true successor of the Fierce Tiger Fist Method.
And from Ja So-gyeong’s hands, that method unfolded.
First Form — Tiger’s Roaring Strike
KWA-AAAANG!!!
No ordinary wooden gate could withstand a single fist like that. The doors shattered into splinters, of course.
“What the—?! An attack?!”
“Who the hell are you?!”
“Sichuan Nangins…?”
The Jambong Sect disciples who came scrambling out at the explosion stared blankly for a moment at the wrecked gate and the Sichuan Nangins. A Nangin raid on a proper sect was unprecedented, so their shock was only natural. In fact, ever since the unorthodox factions vanished from Sichuan, this might have been the first time any sect had been assaulted at all.
“Y-you bastards! What do you think you’re doing?!”
“These Nangin dogs have gone too far! Do you think you can attack the great Jambong Sect and walk away unscathed?!”
That bewilderment did not last long; it quickly turned to rage. The glares fixed on us uninvited guests who had smashed their front gate were quite fierce.
Someone pushed through the ranks of martial artists who could not hide their fury and stepped forward.
“I am Ak Pae-yeol, Hall Master of the Bongmyeong Hall. I cannot fathom what confidence lets you commit such an outrage.”
Confidence filled Ak Pae-yeol’s eyes as he looked over the Nangins. He had the numbers, and he had more Peak experts. No reason to lose, he must have thought.
“Even if the main force of the Jambong Sect is away, did you truly believe you could overcome the stronghold of the great Jambong Sect? Fools! Whose orders brought you here to attack us?!”
“A survivor of the Tangsu Sect.”
Yeong Ji-huyeol answered.
“…What?”
Ak Pae-yeol’s pupils shook. Hmm. This one at least held a proper title, so he seemed to know something.
“We received a commission from a survivor of the Tangsu Sect to destroy the Jambong Sect—the ones who manipulated Guak Sword Dok Yeong-chan and brought the Tangsu Sect to ruin.”
“W-what absurd slander is this?! Do you have any proof that our Jambong Sect is connected to Guak Sword Dok Yeong-chan?!”
“Not my concern.”
“What did you say?”
Srrrng.
Yeong Ji-huyeol drew his jointed sword as he spoke.
“We are Sichuan Nangins, and we carry out the commissions we accept. When have we ever fretted over justifications before taking a job? We simply perform the work we are given. Evidence is of no interest to us.”
Sichuan Nangins were already treated as unorthodox scum anyway—what did a little justification matter? Evidence would come soon enough once the subjugation force returned or we caught Gae Myeong-bu.
So for now, we would just beat them down.
Swordplay that paid no mind to justification.
In all of Sichuan, only the Sichuan Nangins could get away with that.
Chajajajang!
The Nangins drew their weapons as one. The faces of the martial artists who realized a clash was inevitable tightened with tension.
Yeong Ji-huyeol delivered the final ultimatum in a calm voice.
“Those who throw down their weapons will not be killed.”
“A-attack!”
With Ak Pae-yeol’s roar as the signal, Sichuan Nangins and Jambong Sect martial artists both kicked off the ground at once.
Before I knew it, Jeong Sam and Yeo Jinsang had stuck close to my side.
“Ho Cheon-an, don’t you fall behind!”
“You’re the lowest ranked among us.”
“Kyaak!”
While we traded nonsense, the collision was already imminent. Yeo Jinsang and I slowed our pace; Jeong Sam surged ahead and swept his half-moon blade in a great arc.
A half-moon blade counted as a heavy weapon even among the arms used in the Murim. A First-rate-looking martial artist raised his sword to block, but he could not withstand the impact and left an opening.
Yeo Jinsang and I thrust our swords in at the same time. I aimed for the thigh; Yeo Jinsang went for the heart.
“Cowards!”
The enemy martial artist bellowed and twisted his body somehow to dodge Yeo Jinsang’s blade. A good choice.
Yeo Jinsang had never intended to kill him either, so he would have twisted the path in time, but a careless stab near the heart could still have been fatal.
“Uwaaagh!”
Of course, the price of that choice had to be paid with his thigh. Jeong Sam smashed the falling martial artist’s face with the flat of his blade. Between the teeth scattering through the air I saw the man’s eyes roll back—unconscious. Subdued.
I watched the other Nangins each lock onto an opponent and begin to mix it up, then scanned the battlefield for the enemy Peak experts.
The Nangins’ momentum was quite fierce.
They had always been one-sidedly beaten by Sichuan’s proper martial artists, so plenty of resentment must have built up. Now they finally had the chance to prove themselves against equal-ranked opponents in one-on-one fights; of course they were fired up.
“Tch. Look at us, looking so pathetic.”
“This is all Ho Cheon-an’s fault.”
I heard Jeong Sam and Yeo Jinsang grumbling, but since it really was my fault I quietly searched for the next prey.
Our target was the Peak experts.
The Jambong Sect side had ten Peak experts; the Nangin side, including Heukmyo, had nine. So a few First-rate fighters needed to gang up and handle a Peak expert.
And the First-rates for that role were decided on the spot as the three of us—because the three of us could use a joint formation.
The price of the stupid idea I once had—“If I teach these two a joint technique, they might become somewhat useful”—had come back to me like this.
“Over here! This one’s Peak!”
One Nangin shouted while tumbling across the ground. He looked like he was barely clinging to life, so I grabbed a throwing dagger from my coat and yelled.
“Charge!”
The moment I loosed the daggers, Jeong Sam and Yeo Jinsang kicked off the earth.
“Chit!”
Tadang!!
My Dual-Ring Throwing Daggers had not yet reached the level that could fool a Peak expert; the man swept his sword and knocked both daggers aside.
Still, it halted the Peak martial artist who had been pouring out a wave of attacks. In that gap Jeong Sam and Yeo Jinsang pinned him down, and the Nangin who had been rolling on the ground slipped free.
“A joint assault?! Shameless dogs!”
“Shame? What’s that? Do you know?”
“How do you write the characters? I should jot it down and look it up later.”
“No idea, but here come more daggers!”
“You sons of bitches!”
It was true that the three of us had trained a joint formation, but that had been ages ago. After I carved my path through gambling I had never paid the joint formation another thought. We had briefly matched our timing yesterday, but that was nowhere near enough to break a five-year gap—barely enough even to recall the sequence.
“You idiot! You got the order wrong!”
“When was the last time we practiced together? How am I supposed to remember that?!”
“The muscles know the answer!”
“You bastards! Fight seriously!”
The man in front of us was a fully mature Peak expert. Of all the ones they could have left behind, they left this guy. We would all die before we even got the joint technique spinning properly. Sensing his strength, we constantly rattled him with words and kept throwing daggers.
We were pushed back when we failed to disperse the force of his sword, our stances broke, wounds opened on our bodies—but thankfully without serious injury we began to weather one exchange, then two.
As time passed, our joint formation started to mesh little by little.
Once the misaligned gears caught for the first time, everything after that grew easier. It was not yet flowing like water… but a linkage worth watching began to take shape.
Kaaaang!!
The descending half-moon blade canceled the Peak expert’s sword. Yeo Jinsang’s thrust slipped into the gap. My own blade followed right after, sweeping a great half-circle through his lower body.
“Kh!”
First-rate fighters cannot produce Peak-level power. So how do First-rates gathered together defeat a Peak expert?
The answer is simple.
Drag the Peak expert down to First-rate level.
Pour out a chain of linked attacks so relentless that he cannot unleash the full power of his realm.
An ordinary martial artist would claim the entire space for himself; we divided that space according to a prearranged sequence and used it as three. After I thrust, I lifted my left foot. Jeong Sam slipped into the lower space and carved a great cut through the lower body. In that interval I fell back, and Yeo Jinsang leapt up to claim the remaining upper space and bring his sword down.
By the time the attack ended, Jeong Sam had already shifted to the lower left and Yeo Jinsang had landed and cleared the right side. Then I used the mid-to-upper space to drive a diagonal strike.
We kept cramming attacks in according to the prearranged joint sequence.
Accelerate. Accelerate. Accelerate again.
Once the gears started turning, they spun ever faster. How many exchanges had we traded? At least several dozen, yet the Peak expert before us was still holding on.
But bringing him down was only a matter of time.
The more we unfolded our joint formation, the more it shed its rust and revealed its true worth. That long-neglected joint technique was peeling away the years and gradually reclaiming its proper form.
Kang! Taang! Ting!
Faster.
Even faster.
The more his hands and feet tangled, the more his balance crumbled, the more he was forced to retreat, the faster we became. Or perhaps it was because we had grown faster that he was crumbling—who could say.
But even that thought was useless.
I simply focused on moving fast. I stripped away emotion, suppressed the brilliant techniques that flashed through a martial artist’s mind, and became nothing more than a single gear whose only purpose was to raise the speed.
Tadadadadang!
I thought I saw the enemy martial artist beginning to struggle with our tempo—then in an instant his balance collapsed.
My sword grazed his side; Yeo Jinsang’s blade cut his leg.
Teoeong!
And Jeong Sam’s half-moon blade knocked the weapon from his hand.
“Hooo…”
Concentration shattered.
How many exchanges had I traded with that man? I could not clearly remember, but my whole body was soaked in sweat and my breath had climbed all the way to my throat, so it had clearly been more than a couple.
The opponent had already exhausted both internal energy and stamina. He had taken no fatal wounds, yet his internal energy had hit rock bottom and his palms had long since been shredded by the endless impacts.
Yeo Jinsang smashed the man who was barely still standing with the hilt of his sword and dropped him.
“Haa. Haa… ha…! Damn it, this is all Ho Cheon-an’s fault—what kind of hellish work is this?!”
“Huk, huk…! You bastards! You should be thanking me for letting you take down a Peak expert!”
“Hooo… I’m out of breath, so stop making me talk.”
While we caught our breath I looked around. Most of the Jambong Sect disciples were already down. A few Peak experts were still trading blows, but anyone could see it was an overwhelming victory for the Sichuan Nangins.
“I-impossible… the disciples of the great Jambong Sect… to mere Nangins…”
The fallen Peak martial artist muttered as if he could not comprehend the present situation.
I could understand his reaction. Watching people who normally took money to deliberately lose must have made us look ridiculous. To the eyes of proper sect martial artists, the Sichuan Nangins would appear as a collection of worthless types whose martial arts were low-grade and whose foundations were shoddy.
And that was all true, really.
Most Sichuan Nangins had entered the martial path relying on nothing more than the third-rate manuals sold on street corners—a mixed bag of nobodies.
Even so… just because they were the same First-rate did not mean they were truly equal. The Sichuan Nangins were the stubborn bastards who had started with those third-rate manuals and climbed all the way to First-rate and Peak.
Their depth of experience, the density of the lives they had lived as martial artists, was different from ordinary Jambong Sect disciples. Similar realms? Even then, the grade of a martial artist was several times higher on the Sichuan Nangin side.
Unless Super-Peak expert Gae Myeong-bu intervened, victory for the Sichuan Nangins was only natural.
“So Gae Myeong-bu ran after all.”
Gae Myeong-bu seemed to have chosen flight. There was no reason for him to stay inside the sect and never show himself while his entire faction was being crushed.
Yu Ji-gyeong and Gae Myeong-bu both—what outstanding loyalty they possessed. Absolute masters of the clean getaway.
I checked the spot where Yeo Il-ye had been earlier; she was already gone. If everything had gone according to plan, she would be chasing Gae Myeong-bu right now.
Yeo Il-ye would handle Gae Myeong-bu just fine. So it was time to finish the remaining work.
“All right, let’s start tearing the Jambong Sect apart.”
“Mm. But will searching the Jambong Sect actually turn up anything?”
“Normally, no. But right now there should be quite a few useful things.”
Gae Myeong-bu was, after all, an elder of the Jambong Sect. Could he simply waltz under the Hwangbo Clan’s wing? And drag his entire faction with him, no less?
It was possible… but abandoning one’s sect without any special reason and transferring to another dealt fatal damage to a person’s reputation.
I did not believe Gae Myeong-bu would honestly accept that damage to his name and transfer to the Hwangbo Clan.
So what method would he use?
What if—
some ugly truth that would make people gasp in horror was hidden inside the Jambong Sect? And what if Gae Myeong-bu exposed it and ripped the mask off the Jambong Sect’s face?
Would that not justify him and his faction withdrawing from the sect and transferring to the Hwangbo Clan?
He might even make a name for himself as a chivalrous hero who righted justice through an internal whistle-blowing.
This was a man with the personality to abandon his entire faction without a second thought and run. Would he simply leave alone a Jambong Sect that now held only his rivals after his own people had left? He would exploit every usable angle.
I could not be certain, but the odds were high that Gae Myeong-bu had been ransacking the sect while the sect master was away, gathering evidence of corruption and scandals. Right now the only people left in the sect were his own faction—people he was about to betray—so what was there to hesitate over?
If my guess was right, all sorts of evidence would be sitting in Gae Myeong-bu’s office, where he had been busily collecting it.
“Until the subjugation force returns, let’s comb this place thoroughly and shake it down completely.”
Somehow I had the feeling we might land a big catch.