Chapter 26
Chapter 26
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: No Chance for a Meal
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A high-class inn in Hebei.
Seol-hwa sat in a chair, gazing at the gallery with a faint smile.
📰 Unique Gallery [Red Tower Lord Real-Time Situation]
-(Gif of him getting totally owned by High Elves) Tried educating Shihanbu with Yomi's divine tool, but elves swarmed in and now he's getting properly schooled lol 💬 Comments — Anonymous Ekkkk his soul's completely flown out lol — Anonymous Haha! Zoom in on his eyes, folks. Tears are flowing. — Anonymous Tried to monopolize the rice bowl and got a proper schooling lol "That guy really has the worst luck."
Seol-hwa let out a sigh of relief and turned back to the gallery.
Seeing that he was at the Red Tower had stirred complicated emotions in her heart.
"Hmm. Should I go?"
But she soon changed her mind.
He'd be heading back soon anyway.
If she couldn't lock him in the basement forever, there was no reason to meet.
What she wanted wasn't Shihanbu himself.
It was his seed, to carry on the Ice Palace's lineage.
No matter his Nine Yin Meridians, he couldn't touch her.
There was no reason to meet such a man.
As Seol-hwa finished her calculations and concluded not to go—
The door creaked open.
A warrior rushed in.
"Urk!"
The Ice Palace warrior groaned upon entry, his skin flushing red even without contact.
Seol-hwa's chill was too intense.
After groaning for a while, he finally spoke.
"Palace Lord! A fight's broken out!"
Countless crowds had gathered in Hebei to spectate the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament.
Overwhelmed, the Murim Alliance had assigned security zones to each sect.
A brawl had erupted in the Ice Palace's zone.
Seol-hwa responded indifferently to her subordinate.
"Subdue them and toss them in jail."
She turned back to the gallery.
But oddly, the warrior didn't leave despite the order.
Sensing something amiss, Seol-hwa looked at him again.
"... It's beyond us."
Beyond them, even with thirty elite Ice Palace warriors?
"Who the hell is it?"
"Wind Sentiment Old Fist... sir."
Wind Sentiment Old Fist (Seasoned Fist of Style).
Seol-hwa's expression hardened at the name.
Rumored to have crushed a dinosaur's skull barehanded.
A true absolute, one who'd surpassed the wall from the previous previous generation.
"Why is he...?"
The warrior hesitated before speaking.
"... To avenge his dead disciple."
Murim grudges.
Interfering wasn't right in principle.
But this was the Ice Palace's jurisdiction.
Reluctantly, Seol-hwa rose and drew her sword.
"Where?"
"Northwest marketplace."
Seol-hwa immediately unleashed her lightness skill.
"Uwaaaah!"
"What the—! Why's it so cold?!"
People writhed in the sudden chill wherever she passed.
But now wasn't the time to care.
'Sorry.'
Apologizing inwardly, she raced to the market by the shortest path.
Two figures entered her view.
An elderly man with white hair, one arm and leg grotesquely twisted and ruined.
That was Wind Sentiment Old Fist.
And before him, a young woman in black martial robes, drenched in blood and gasping.
"Demon" was embroidered on her chest.
"... Heavenly Demon Divine Cult."
A century ago.
The faction that fell alongside the dinosaurs.
Yet a woman bearing their symbol gasped before her.
Seol-hwa stepped forward to stop the killing.
But then—
[Ice Palace Lord. Stop.] A transmission echoed in her ear.
The voice was all too familiar.
Huangbo Sega, pillar of the Nine Great Sects and One Clan after Volcano and Wudang fell a century ago.
Their sect leader's voice.
[Why stop? Blood will spill at this rate.] [That's why stop. Isn't this a golden chance to uproot the seed without lifting a finger?] Emotions so overt they felt vulgar.
Seol-hwa frowned at the voice.
'I knew it...'
The current Murim was dominated by the Nine Great Sects and One Clan and Five Great Families.
The old four powers that once divided Murim had all crumbled.
The Nine wanted them never to recover.
Seol-hwa knew this.
Ice Palace, one of the Five Outer Palaces.
Whenever she tried expanding, interference came.
Was that why?
She felt a sense of kinship with the woman before her.
[This is Ice Palace territory. No reason to obey you.] [This isn't my opinion. It's the Nine Great Sects and One Clan's.] [Even so, my stance doesn't change.] As Seol-hwa moved forward—
Whoosh—
Suddenly, someone shoved past her.
A man in a white mask.
Denser chill than hers, yet pure beyond measure.
As he passed, Seol-hwa unconsciously glanced at her shoulder.
A warm sensation lingered there—the first since her mother's death.
'He... touched me and it's fine?'
Her heart pounded.
Tormented by loneliness from Ice Spirit Heavenly Heart Art, someone who could touch her had appeared.
"Y-You! Wait just a—"
As she lunged toward him madly—
[Then stay out and rest.] The Huangbo sect leader's irritated transmission came.
Thud—
Wooden plaques fell around her.
Mist filled the air.
A formation.
"N-No."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The teleport scroll ripped from the Red Tower Lord.
I arrived in Hebei and leaned against a wall, catching my breath.
"... Elves are seriously creepy."
Those gazes scanning my whole body.
Even thinking back made my nape prickle.
"If I'd really gotten caught, ugh."
Shuddering, I surveyed the surroundings.
"The shrine maidens are here!"
"Woooah!"
The city buzzed with Dragon-Phoenix Tournament energy.
Drums and flutes echoed everywhere, meat grilling scents wafting.
"Finally time for dongpo pork? No kimchi, though?"
Should I hunt for cabbage?
As I thought that and sought a nearby tavern—
"Tch. What a degenerate age."
"Oh my! So shameless... eek."
Gazes turned my way.
Two kinds: men's annoyed stares, women's shy peeks.
"What's with them?"
Puzzled, I looked down.
My training suit was shredded, barely covering vitals.
"... Can't blame 'em."
As I nodded—
"H-Hey, wait. Isn't that familiar?"
"Yeah, where've I... Oh, he's going. Hng, show a bit more."
People started recognizing me.
I bolted.
No way I wanted sightings on the gallery.
"Not getting chased by elves again."
Muttering, I slipped away fast.
Into the city center, hunting a clothing shop.
"Clothing shop..."
Racing through, I spotted a small store stacked with robes.
"Clothes, please. Got masks?"
"Kyaa! Wh-Wh... Oh, a customer!"
The clerk startled, then composed herself, blinking.
Her eyes... were odd.
"Something easy to move in?"
"Hmm... like that? You're from the Central Plains, right?"
"That obvious?"
"Totally. Accent's off, and your face, that body..."
The young clerk trailed off, stroking my forearm.
"Arms like this are rare... What've you been eating?"
"Just butchered some dinosaurs."
"...Pardon?"
Her eyes widened briefly.
"Ahaha!"
She covered her mouth laughing.
"Handsome, great body, and funny too."
"Uh, thanks."
I scratched my head.
I knew Heavenly Strong Body improved my looks.
Didn't expect such bold flirting.
"Wanna try some on? I'll measure you."
"That one's fine..."
I pointed to a black dobok at the entrance.
She ignored, lifting my top.
Her eyes bulged.
"Whoa... What a body..."
Awe at my packed muscles.
Her stare burdensome, I lowered my shirt.
"Just that one."
I grabbed the black martial robe and donned it.
She pouted, heading upstairs.
"You wanted a mask? Festival one. Take it if you need."
I snatched and wore it.
"Thanks. Here's the money."
As I paid to leave—
"Um, sir..."
She tugged my sleeve lightly.
"W-Wanna watch the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament together?"
I smiled.
"Sorry. Starving here."
"Oh... Then together for—"
Ignoring her clinginess, I stepped out.
Craved spiced something ASAP.
"Where to?"
Back in the bustle, pondering taverns—
The crowd grew rowdy, surging one way.
"Hurry!"
"Where?!"
"Northwest market!"
Good eats there?
I followed.
The throng formed a ring.
In the center, a familiar face.
Inky black hair.
Violet eyes.
Woman in tattered dobok.
"Heavenly Demon?"
Problem: she was covered in blood.
"What the hell's going on?"
My confused mutter got a reply.
"Just arrived? That woman's accused of killing Wind Sentiment Old Fist's disciple back in the day. Typical Murim grudge stuff."
Wind Sentiment Old Fist's Peach Blossom Formation.
I recalled gallery info.
Active since the generation before last, smashed dinosaurs barehanded.
"... Heard he surpassed the wall."
Cheon A-ryeong now faced her own wall.
A tough foe for her.
"Let's end it."
Wind Sentiment Old Fist calmly raised his fist.
No hesitation.
A-ryeong gripped her sword.
But her legs trembled finely, shoulder drooped.
Bloody mess.
Fight on, she'd die.
No, he'd kill her for sure.
"... Don't think you can take the life of the one true Demon of the world so easily!"
She bellowed desperately.
That instant.
The sword wailed.
Deep ink bloomed from the tip, her eyes darkening to black.
Wind Sentiment Old Fist said, surprised.
"... Crossed a threshold in life-or-death combat? Truly terrifying talent."
Heavenly Demon Cheon A-ryeong.
She'd just opened one of the gates beyond the wall.
"But that's all."
Boom!
Sword met fist.
The earth's veins quaked.
The plaza heaved.
Spectators screamed, flung back; windows shattered.
I drew qi from my dantian to withstand.
Then saw, as dust cleared.
Heavenly Demon.
Kneeling, vomiting blood.
"Cough...!"
Blood dripped from her mouth; ink-black sword slipped from her hand.
Wind Sentiment Old Fist gazed down, admiring.
"... Endured that?"
Seemed daunted.
He stepped forward.
Toward A-ryeong.
He meant to kill the Heavenly Demon.
Then.
"St-Stop! Please stop!"
"Don't kill our master!"
Young one girl three boys blocked her.
A-ryeong's new disciples she'd bragged about in voice chat.
Protecting their master.
But.
"Out of the way."
One gesture from Wind Sentiment Old Fist hurled them.
I sighed.
"... No chance for a meal on this outing."
Sighing, I leaped forward.
Stood before Cheon A-ryeong.
Wind Sentiment Old Fist glared, frowning.
"And who're you?"
I cupped my fists politely, comic-style.
About to introduce—
"... Kid, that's backwards."
"Pardon?"
"Fist salute wraps right with left."
"... Oh."