The Iron Calamity Mob (1)

The Anhui Valley where the Iron Calamity Mob was hiding lay on the far outskirts of the Snow Mountain Region.

It sat on the opposite side of the Yin Soul Ghost Bone Palace ruins they had visited before, and even farther still from the main hall of the Ten Thousand Nights Ice Palace.

Perhaps because of that, not a soul was to be seen.

In their place, demons native to the frigid wastes appeared frequently and barred their path.

"Whew, it's cold. So cold."

Na Chwi-ryang, having just driven off a fox demon that had lunged at them, hunched his shoulders against the blowing snow.

Cheon Woo-jin watched him and remarked, "Surely you can endure cold of this degree?"

"Endure it, sure. Cold is still cold, though. Our kind has always been weak to it, you know."

Having never been a lizard himself, Cheon Woo-jin had no way of knowing what that felt like.

"It is certainly a cold place."

Cheon Woo-jin, too, would have had cold evil seeping into his body had he not been shielding himself with spiritual power. That path led straight to a affliction of damage-by-cold, condemned to suffer chills and fever in turns.

"It's hard to believe there are demons born and raised in a place like this. Even animals adapted to the cold should be affected, with cold evil this severe."

"Our species are simply born with defensive qi fundamentally different from other races."

Defensive qi was the energy that protected the body's surface. Derived from a living being's true qi, it circulated not through the meridians but along the outer flesh, warding off hostile energies from without — and not only cultivators or martial artists possessed it; ordinary mortals carried it just the same.

"Races like mine are born with nothing more than ordinary defensive qi, so to survive ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in an environment where hostile energy this powerful whips and swirls, we have no choice but to layer spiritual power over our defensive qi and reinforce the body's natural protection."

"When you think of it that way..."

Cheon Woo-jin voiced the thought that had formed in his mind.

"The protective qi and protective gang qi of martial artists are ultimately just extensions of defensive qi as well. After all, their purpose is likewise to reinforce the body's defenses."

"Mm, that's right."

Na Chwi-ryang nodded.

"The idea of layering another energy over yourself to strengthen your defenses is perfectly natural — like piling on clothes when you're freezing. Martial artists layer their internal energy over themselves, and cultivators like us layer spiritual power."

"Then body tempering arts would fall on that same spectrum?"

"You could say so. Wrapping spiritual power around the body's surface is important, after all."

As he spoke, Na Chwi-ryang clenched and unclenched his hand. A considerable volume of spiritual power welled up and coiled around it, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thickening his hand like a glove.

"But ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠piling on as much spiritual power as you can isn't automatically a good thing. It's like wearing too many layers of clothes — it slows your movements down."

"Fair enough. Body tempering arts don't pursue defense alone."

"Exactly. Sometimes a body tempering art lets you run fast like a good pair of shoes; sometimes it lets you see clearly like a fine magnifying glass. So according to time and place—"

Mid-explanation, Na Chwi-ryang abruptly shut his mouth. Then he fixed Cheon Woo-jin with a murderous glare.

"I said I'd teach you body tempering arts after this job is done! Stop trying to worm lessons out of me on the sly!"

"Wouldn't teaching me now be more efficient than teaching me after? It's not as if we're doing anything but walking at the moment."

"This brat and his twisted logic...!"

Just as Na Chwi-ryang turned to glare at him, voice thick with anger, a chill wind swept down from overhead.

"Duck!"

"...!"

Cheon Woo-jin threw himself low alongside Na Chwi-ryang. A moment later, something enormous passed directly over their heads.

"That's the Youguijiao I mentioned before."

Na Chwi-ryang whispered in a low voice, still hunched over.

"If it meets your eyes, bad luck or not, you're finished. So when the Youguijiao shows up, you get down fast. That's the correct call."

The Youguijiao was an Imoogi of the Nascent Soul Realm that had roamed the 6th Layer for untold years. As a Nascent Soul being it wielded tremendous power — until one day, without warning, it went mad. Ever since, it had circled the skies above this stretch of land daily.

So many hazards infest this region. Seo Seol-ryeong's concerns were entirely justified.

The reason Cheon Woo-jin and Na Chwi-ryang were trudging through the snow on foot rather than flying was the Youguijiao itself. Cross paths with it mid-flight, and their lives would hang by a thread.

"Looks like it's drifted far enough away. Let's move."

The two rose and resumed their trek across the snow. Fortunately, they encountered no more dangerous presences like the Youguijiao.

"That's Anhui Valley over there."

Footprints dotted the snow around the entrance of the white-covered valley. Somewhere in its depths, the Iron Calamity Mob's hideout was almost certainly waiting.

"No need to walk in through the front, though. Let's leap down from the slopes on both sides and hit them by surprise."

"Understood."

"I'll take the left. You take the right."

There was no reason for the two of them to leap in shoulder to shoulder. Their lines of movement would tangle, and they would only get in each other's way.

Na Chwi-ryang moved left; Cheon Woo-jin swung around to the right. Climbing the slanted terrain until he reached high ground, he looked down.

The interior of the valley looked surprisingly cozy. Thanks, perhaps, to the hot spring waters of the spirit springs at its heart — it seemed warmer than the world outside the gorge.

So that's why they made this place their hideout.

The Iron Calamity Mob members gathered here and there were mostly cultivators of the Foundation Establishment Realm. But the executives ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠inside the ramshackle building at the back would be no pushovers.

"..."

He tilted his head up slightly and glanced across the valley — there was Na Chwi-ryang at the highest point, rolling his shoulders with easy leisure. Apparently he intended to dive straight in barehanded.

I can't do it quite like that.

Cheon Woo-jin slipped his hand into his storage pouch and drew out the artifact Hoyeon Rin had delivered to him earlier. Holding the palm-sized crimson banner in his hand, he fed a light stream of spiritual power into it.

Shall we begin?

Across the valley, he could see Na Chwi-ryang spreading both arms wide and dropping down into the enemy camp. Almost at the same instant, Cheon Woo-jin tossed the banner downward.

"Hm?"

"What's that?"

Chwararak!

Falling as it cleaved the wind, the banner unfurled of its own accord and whipped and billowed. The instant it planted itself in the snow-covered ground, the palm-sized cloth had become a banner far taller than a man.

"...!"

Complex patterns spread outward from the banner, and crimson energy surged up within them. That red energy coiled around the Iron Calamity Mob members standing within its effective range, binding nine of them fast where they stood.

"Wh-what is this thing?!"

"I can't move a muscle!"

This was the Nine Dragons Mountain-Binding Banner, an artifact that embodied the legend of the nine-headed Dragon King who had wound himself around a mountain and bound it fast. Crafted with the power of the Dragon race, this top-grade binding artifact would never let something as insignificant as Foundation Establishment cultivators slip free.

Cheon Woo-jin leapt down the slopes on all sides, generating thunder qi as he fell. The golden ring on his left hand responded, amplifying the thunder qi — the Thunder Wheel Ring, the second top-grade artifact Hoyeon Rin had passed on to him, exerting its effect and driving the power of his thunder arts to its very limit.

Even with the thunder sphere plummeting toward them, the men could not flee a single step. Before their despair-smeared faces, the thunder sphere detonated, ravaging their bodies with overwhelming force.

Tak!

Having dispatched nine Foundation Establishment cultivators in a single stroke, Cheon Woo-jin landed in their midst. The black hem of his dark-clothed silhouette fluttered in the wind as he swept his gaze across his surroundings.

Two Foundation Establishment cultivators charging from the right; one Core Formation cultivator from the left.

Cheon Woo-jin first fluttered his sleeve and deployed the Heavenly Armor Flying Spirits. Using the six autonomous flying spirits to block the cultivators on the right, he raised his left hand toward the left flank.

Kwakwakwang!

The spell the Core Formation cultivator had hurled was stopped dead. A shield of thunder qi, generated by the Thunder Wheel Ring on his left hand, blocked it completely.

"Ghhk...!"

The cultivator was holding a sword. Pouring Core Formation spiritual power into it, he swung hard at Cheon Woo-jin. But the thunder shield repelled the blade with such force that he lost his balance and staggered.

The hallmark of a shield formed by the Thunder Wheel Ring was that it did not merely act as a passive barrier — it generated repulsive force that shoved incoming attacks away.

In the same instant, the crimson energy of the Nine Dragons Mountain-Binding Banner coiled around the Core Formation cultivator's limbs. The banner still stood tall and unbending, its effects in full force.

"Th-this can't be...!"

At the Core Formation cultivator writhing against his bindings, Cheon Woo-jin flung the mass of thunder qi clenched in his hand.

Kwakwang! With a thunderous roar, a gaping hole was punched through the man's abdomen, and he crumpled lifelessly to the ground.

Cheon Woo-jin pivoted immediately and hurled more thunder qi, cutting down the two Foundation Establishment cultivators whose feet were entangled by the Heavenly Armor Flying Spirits in the same breath.

"Is this all you've got?!"

A boisterous voice rang out; he turned to see Na Chwi-ryang roaring as he wrung a man's neck clean off. That side could be left to fight on its own.

"You bastards...!"

Then, along with a shrill voice, came the unmistakable sound of a whistle. The next moment, dozens of snakes reared their heads up from the snow-covered slope.

Not snakes made of snow — real ones.

Snow Crest Snakes.

White serpents bearing patterns like snowflakes, the venomous species native to this region. Their toxin was so potent that even a Core Formation cultivator was said to die if he failed to neutralize it quickly. It was one of the reasons the area around Anhui Valley was so dangerous.

So one of them can command snakes.

The Myriad Poison Six Serpent Sect had cultivators who controlled venomous snakes and insects as well. It was entirely possible the man commanding these Snow Crest Snakes was a defector from that very sect.

Siiiik. Siiiik.

Dozens of Snow Crest Snakes came gliding across the snow. Perhaps because they exploited the snowy terrain to slide along, they were incomparably faster than any snake crawling on ordinary ground. Worse, their natural camouflage made them hard to even see.

With numbers like that, trying to bind them with the Nine Dragons Mountain-Binding Banner would be pointless.

Before the venomous snakes converging on him from every direction, angles calculated for a kill, Cheon Woo-jin deliberately bent one knee and lowered his body.

Kwakwakwang!

A thunder-attribute attack deployed across a full 360 degrees — and deliberately released low, hugging the ground. The venomous snakes that had come gliding over the snow did not leave a single survivor. Every last one of them was roasted into snake barbecue.

"N-no, what even is..."

The cultivator who had commanded the Snow Crest Snakes stood frozen, mind blank. Cheon Woo-jin flung thunder qi without hesitation, drilling a neat wind-hole through his throat.

He turned his head to see who would fall next — and felt a new presence. From deep within Anhui Valley, a man was walking out.

"So the ones with death wishes have come crawling in."

A man with blue eyes and bronze skin. Radiating the presence of a group's chieftain, he released blue thunder qi from his entire body.

A Thunder Spirit Body, is it?

Observing the man's thunder qi with cool, unclouded eyes, Cheon Woo-jin pulled the Nine Dragons Mountain-Binding Banner free from the ground where he had planted it.