Chapter 974
Chapter 974
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 974
Chapter Title: Radiant Ascension Path
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I didn't just charge out of the city recklessly.
This world is vast. Even if the city with the Myriad Martial Tower was nearby by this world's standards, it was still just "nearby" relative to its scale.
The slightest wrong turn on the road, and we'd likely miss the deadline. Besides, neither Sung Ji-gon nor I knew the routes well. We barely had any travel experience to speak of.
That didn't mean we had no options. If we didn't know the way, we could hire a guide who did. Or ask an escort agency to take us along.
'The problem is, finding a personal guide is incredibly tough, and the escort caravan heading to Myriad Martial City from the nearby agencies left a week ago.'
In short, we were too late.
But we weren't out of options. Sung Ji-gon and I had found a way.
The Iron Crow Corps.
We hid our skills and joined the ronin band led by Flying Ox Severing Blade Jin Gu-eon of the Ox-Severing Blade.
Ronin.
They were third-rate wanderers roaming this world. Some romanticized them as chasing the romance of the jianghu, but in reality, they were little more than unsettled mercenaries.
The Iron Crow Corps was heading to the Myriad Martial Tower in search of opportunity. Sung Ji-gon and I planned to hitch a ride with them and head straight there.
"Assembly!"
The Iron Crow Corps' leader, Jin Gu-eon, bellowed.
The ronin under his command scrambled into position before him. Sung Ji-gon and I were among them.
Jin Gu-eon was a man in his forties. His face was ugly—bronze skin scarred with a long gash across his forehead, missing his left ear. His voice was so gravelly it sounded like phlegm was perpetually bubbling in his throat. A massive cleaver hung at his back, glinting in the sunlight.
"We're heading to the Myriad Martial Tower starting now. If anyone has personal business and wants out, do it now."
Jin Gu-eon glared with bulging eyes. The ronin before him swallowed dryly. His cultivation was at the Manifestation Realm, 3rd stage—top-tier among ronin.
"...Looks like no one's bailing."
The ronin stood silently, hanging on his every word.
"The Myriad Martial Tower is our last shot at climbing higher without roots. I don't expect us to conquer it. Our goal is halfway—the 10th floor. Reach the 10th, and we can learn advanced martial arts. It'll count as experience, too, enough to join a decent sect. I've staked my life on this tower. So last chance: if you won't stake yours with me, don't drag me down—get out now!"
Jin Gu-eon's eyes blazed.
The Myriad Martial Tower had an age limit: 50. It opened every ten years. For a man in his forties, this was his final shot.
"We're with you, Captain! We won't live as mocked ronin forever! This tower will change our lives!"
"Damn right!"
"If we're staking our lives, of course we are!"
The Iron Crow ronin shouted in unison, their voices thick with resolve. Jin Gu-eon let out a satisfied laugh.
"Kuhahaha! Good! Let's change our lives at the Myriad Martial Tower! We march now! Steel your resolve! Anyone who drags me down... drags the Iron Crows down... gets left behind!"
"Yes, Captain!"
Having whipped their morale sky-high, Jin Gu-eon led the way out of the city.
The Iron Crow Corps marched with sharp, intimidating auras scattering in all directions. But as time passed, that edge dulled.
Sung Ji-gon and I trudged at the rear, heavy packs on our backs.
"Hey, newbies. You made it here without breaking a sweat—impressive."
A man in his early thirties approached us, sword at his waist.
"We've trained steadily, looks like."
Sung Ji-gon replied.
"Yeah, your builds show it. That's why the captain took you in—you've got potential. Name's Woo Young-tae. Been with the Iron Crows two years."
"Nice! I'm Sung Ji-gon!"
"Sung Yu-jin."
We gave our names straight up. No massive force was tailing us, no need to hide.
"Woo Young-tae the great hero?"
"Great hero? Hilarious. Just call me bro."
"Got it, bro. Did you carry packs when you first joined too?"
Sung Ji-gon asked eagerly, eyes sparkling. Woo Young-tae chuckled at his innocence.
"When I first joined? I was wielding a sword, not packs. We were fighting another ronin band back then."
"Whoa..."
Sung Ji-gon perked up his ears. Woo Young-tae, fired up, launched into his tales.
'Ah, damn it.'
I grumbled inwardly.
My original plan was to take over the Iron Crows. No point starting as grunts. Beat down their leader Jin Gu-eon, seize control, slave-drive the ronin, and cruise to the tower easy.
But Sung Ji-gon vetoed it.
'Who knew Sung Ji-gon had fantasies about ronin life.'
Common story.
Ronin: rootless warriors wandering the jianghu. Their tales? 30% truth, 70% bravado, packaged as heroic deeds.
'Sung Ji-gon, you bastard. Still hung up on being a xia.'
A ronin roleplay experience.
'Fucks old hags but dreams of heroics... crazy old coot.'
Infuriating, but I'd already agreed to his pitch. Deal was done between us.
'How do you say no to handing over your virginity?'
Hoo.
Just tough it out for a bit.
I sighed softly and kept walking.
???
"Newbies! Quit sitting around—prep dinner!"
A ronin yelled at us.
"D-Dinner? Us?!"
Sung Ji-gon stammered. The ronin scowled.
"Anyone else new here? Newbies handle grunt work in the Iron Crows. Tradition. You aren't gonna whine now, are you?!"
"N-No, of course not. Tradition's tradition... we'll do it."
"After dinner, set up beds. Oh, and night watch—don't forget. You're last shift."
Sung Ji-gon glanced sideways. The other ronin lounged in groups, idle. Talking big about life-changing tower runs, yet not one practiced martial arts. Explained why ronin got no respect.
"Night watch too? That's too much. We need rest time."
"Tch."
The ronin glared murderously.
"Gotta spell it out? Iron Crow tradition. I ate plenty of shit as a newbie. Do it without bitching."
"...Fine."
"Damn. Buncha greenhorns... ptui."
He spat and stomped off, grumbling.
Sung Ji-gon sidled up to me.
"Yu-jin, tradition's tradition. We'll manage. You cook?"
"Cook? I never bother cooking for myself. You neither."
"True... Guess we ask Bro Woo."
"Sung Ji-gon. Still time to quit this ronin crap and flip the table. I'll handle Jin Gu-eon."
"Nah. Let's stick it out. It's tradition. Gotta earn their respect. Bro Woo said newbie life's rough at first, but rack up experience, gain approval—that's a true ronin."
"Damn old coot."
"Huh?"
"Do your thing. Just keep offering up virgins to me."
"Thanks. I could even spare three girls to your taste."
"Pass, asshole. Only you'd stick it in that withered old-tree pussy without hesitation."
"It's weathered countless years. Show respect."
I shook my head.
After that, we prepped dinner together. Thirty-five members. Two newbies cooking bulk grub. Went with stew—dump everything in one pot. Predictably, reactions sucked; ronin hurled mockery and insults.
Then dishes, bedding, before crashing.
"Yu-jin, annoying but not hard."
Sung Ji-gon's cultivation was Manifestation Realm too. Strongest in the corps after me and the captain.
"Not physically. Mentally? Bullshit. Still time—let's flip it."
"Soon they'll accept us as ronin. Want some?"
"What?"
"Wild berries from Bro Woo. Sharing."
"Nah."
I closed my eyes. Sleep wouldn't come. Sung Ji-gon chattered on, same issue.
"Man, wanna fuck. This is prime fuck o'clock... You too, right?"
"Obviously. But no girls in this ronin dump."
"Bro Woo said female ronin are rare—one in a hundred."
"That many? Surprising. Better to whore out than risk ronin life."
"Lately, pros don't do it for me."
"High-end lack old ladies. Even regular ones skip your taste."
High-class hookers were fresh hot rice. His? Moldy, rotting leftovers. Near impossible to find one fitting his kink.
"Still, my type spreads for cash easy."
"At that age, cash comes hard—obvious."
We bullshitted forever. It trailed off naturally.
"...Ahh. Miss Mom. Living alone, her pussy's on my mind... Granny okay? Better not die before I return... Ah, that sour granny-pussy smell..."
"Crazy fuck."
I chuckled at his nonsense. The dumb shit he blurts cracks me up.
"Anyway, tough day tomorrow."
"Yu-jin, you're suffering too. Why talk like it's not?"
"'Cause it's not."
"You are too."
I had auto-progress. Avatar'd spin the tedium, not me.
A week passed. His week, not mine. Every other night, I snuck to Nakwol Mountain. Fucked Nangong Lin, Nangong Seol, Mi-ryeong to vent. Not him.
Sex-addict Sung Ji-gon was drained. Dutifully slaved a week, but Iron Crows never accepted us.
Had to see it now: Jin Gu-eon let us in to exploit us.
"Bro Woo said hang in. Not the point now... ugh... sex craze driving me nuts..."
Sex fiend tore at his hair. Daily fucker dry a week? Insane.
"Endure."
Two weeks.
Setting beds, we overheard Woo Young-tae and ronin.
"Woo Young-tae, how long you messing with those punks?"
"Haha, not messing—managing. Too harsh, they bolt. Ease up, feed hope—they work quiet. Look at Sung Ji-gon, slaving away."
"That guy's your lapdog."
"Haha, total retard. Get this—he called ronin xia. Xia."
"Xia? Hahaha, lunatic—who says that anymore?"
"Exactly."
Mocking Sung Ji-gon.
Glance. His face flushed rage-distorted. Betrayed by Woo? Tears welled.
Finally, he spat it out.
"Yu-jin... I'm gonna fuck all their moms..."