A Disgusting Finishing Move
THUNK!
Gi Yeo-hae's blazing longblade plunged into the earth without so much as grazing a single hair on Maeng Chang-haeng's head.
Fast.
Those who understood what had just happened — and those who hadn't — all sucked in a breath at once. Gi Yeo-hae's strike had been so swift it was all but invisible to the naked eye. Even a powerhouse on the level of the horse-faced man would have been cut down without a chance to resist.
But starlight flared from that shabby old man's body, and he vanished as if he had simply stepped through space itself. It was an astonishing thing to witness.
A flash of stellar light — and the body is gone, as though space itself has been folded.
Yeop Pung could not tear his eyes from the duel. The movement art Maeng Chang-haeng had just displayed was several times more refined than his own Thunder Shadow Steps. The fierce stellar energy pouring off the old man brought the Nine Heavens Cloud-Spirit Scripture unbidden to his mind.
Don't tell me… there's a movement art cultivated in concert with the Nine Heavens Cloud-Spirit Scripture?
While Yeop Pung turned that thought over, Gi Yeo-hae had not taken his narrowed eyes off Old Man Maeng either.
That disgusting old geezer really is fast. But what good does speed do him?
He wheeled around, eyes burning with fury, and swept the blazing longblade through the air once more, scorching the space around him. Then something he had not anticipated occurred. Maeng Chang-haeng, who only a moment ago had been flickering about with dazzling footwork, now stood stock-still, waving a hand at him from a distance.
"I… I can't. I can't fight…"
What was that supposed to mean? Why, all of a sudden, couldn't he fight?
Rage surged up through Gi Yeo-hae's chest. He would not let this end here.
"Ridiculous! You injured a man of the Gi Clan — you will pay the price!"
"Run! I've been running around too much… I can't hold it! Don't… don't come near me! I really can't!"
He couldn't? Perfect.
Gi Yeo-hae sneered in a voice of ice and poured speed into the blazing longblade, charging at Maeng Chang-haeng with fierce, rolling momentum.
"Peak Master of the Cheonun Sect or not — today I'll take one of your arms, and then I'll take my time with that Yeop Pung bastard!!"
FWOOSH!
The terrifying blade tore through the air, leaving ghastly crimson afterimages in its wake. White smoke boiled up from empty space. The crowd held its breath as the patriarch of the Gi Clan bore down on Maeng Chang-haeng — but the old man did not so much as flinch. His face had gone deathly pale, and he staggered on his feet.
This is bad! Has the Peak Master gotten so drunk he can't even think straight?
Han Un and the rest of the Cheonun Sect broke out in a cold sweat.
And then, in that very instant, a grotesque sound split the air.
"BLEEEEGH!"
Maeng Chang-ha had started throwing up. And he was throwing up without the slightest restraint — straight at Gi Yeo-hae, who was still charging toward him.
Good heavens. It was a sight beyond all imagining. People vomiting, yes — but had anyone ever seen a Spirit Realm expert vomit? Had anyone ever seen a technique that wrapped vomit in Profound Qi, shaped it into a roaring column of filth, and blasted it into an opponent's face?
Vomit sheathed in Profound Qi, forged into a water-column, and hurled into the enemy's face.
Gi Yeo-hae froze solid.
Just how monstrous a bastard have I run into today? How am I supposed to fight properly like this? Good lord — I think I'm going to be sick!
There was nothing he could do. He had closed in too far, too intent on his attack, and there was no dodging the old man's finishing move.
"BLEEEEGH!"
Fighting down a rolling stomach, Gi Yeo-hae wrapped himself in the blazing longblade and wrenched up Profound Qi in a continuous surge, so that not a single drop of the filth would touch his body. If he failed to block it this way, it would be a genuine catastrophe. Searing flame tangled with the vomit in midair; under that ferocious heat, the red-and-white chunks evaporated in an instant.
Mercifully, none of it struck his face. But the smell — sesame oil, minced garlic, and liquor, all of it mashed together —
Ugh… I can't take it. I really can't.
Gi Yeo-hae was certain he was about to throw up himself. The spectators had gone rigid. A few were already bent double, retching. Even Yeop Pung stared at Maeng Chang-haeng with a look of pure, slack-jawed awe, and in his heart he raised a solemn thumbs-up.
I still have so much to learn… To fight like this — to make your opponent so disgusted he wants to vomit. Is this the legendary method of 'subduing the enemy without fighting'? Incredible. Truly incredible!
When the duel had first begun, the crowd had drawn a vast circle around the two men. The moment Maeng Chang-haeng's finishing move erupted, that circle's diameter swelled in a heartbeat. Nobody wanted to be caught in that horrific attack.
At last the ghastly stench faded, and Gi Yeo-hae, standing in the middle of the field, was very nearly out of his mind.
"I… I'll… I'll kill you!!"
"Now hold on, don't you go talking nonsense! I told you not to come near me! I said I couldn't hold it — and you came charging in anyway! And in a towering rage, no less!"
Tears pricked at Gi Yeo-hae's eyes.
This bastard… why does what he's saying actually make sense?
"Shut up! Whoever you are, the Gi Clan will never forget this!!"
To think that Gi Yeo-hae — ordinarily a man of such imposing dignity — would be reduced to a spectacle this unsightly. He drew up flame Profound Qi once more, determined to burn that most wicked drunkard in all the world to ash. And in that instant, the old man's legs simply gave out. He toppled onto the ground and fell asleep.
"Nnghh… *snore*…"
A thunderous snore rolled across the entire field. Gi Yeo-hae stared, bewildered all over again.
"Hey! Get up!"
"Nnghh… *snore*…"
"Don't play dead! You think I'll just let this go?"
That was when a clear, ringing voice carried over from the Cheonun Sect's side.
"Hey, look over here! Everyone, look over here! The great patriarch of the Gi Clan has been hounding a drunk old man, and now he's trying to force an attack on someone who can't even fight back! How magnificent!"
Who the hell is this now?
Every gaze swung in that direction. Yeop Pung was shouting at the top of his lungs, both hands cupped around his mouth, thoroughly enjoying himself.
A talent. A real talent!
The spectators burst into applause and cheers. That slick delivery — those brilliant lines! Perfect!
And so, with thousands of people looking on, Gi Yeo-hae lost every last shred of face. He had never, even in his worst dreams, imagined the day would come to this. He was furious, but there was nothing more he could do, and he clenched his teeth until they ached.
Enough. End it here.
At last, someone arrived to put the situation in order.
"Enough!"
The authoritative shout rang out, and iron-armored warriors came striding in from a distance. A general in a feather-plumed helmet, a cloak thrown over his shoulders, arrived on the field with a cold, unreadable face.
"Commander Naeng?"
Gi Yeo-hae narrowed his eyes and recognized the man. This was Naeng Chu — a powerhouse of the Military Supply Bureau, holding the rank of Commander, and the officer charged with keeping order at this autumn hunting tournament.
"Patriarch Gi…"
Naeng Chu looked at him with a complicated expression.
How did you end up like this?
You think I wanted this?
Gi Yeo-hae was so angry his hair stood on end.
"Patriarch Gi, this is the hunting tournament grounds. I don't know what grudge you have with the Cheonun Sect, but settle it in the tournament. Don't make this difficult for me as well."
Naeng Chu wrinkled his nose.
Damn it. I think I can still smell it. Let's disperse — I don't think I can stand being here any longer.
Gi Yeo-hae ground his teeth, but there was no other way. Having run into this absurd drunkard today, he could only call it an unlucky day and be done with it. He raised a fist toward Naeng Chu in a curt salute.
"Understood. I shall trouble Lord Naeng no further. Heroes of the Gi Clan, hear me!"
"Yes!"
The two hundred-odd hunting tournament participants standing behind Gi Yeo-hae were already grinding their teeth in fury. They looked ready to rush in that very instant and smash the Cheonun Sect to pieces.
"Remember those Cheonun Sect bastards well! See that we repay this grudge properly in this hunting tournament!"
"Yes!"
Killing intent flooded the field in a heartbeat. Maeng Chang-haeng had landed a thoroughly satisfying blow, but when the Cheonun Sect disciples met the Gi Clan's murderous aura, a deep, instinctive fear stirred in their chests.
Strong. Far too strong.
Even at a glance, the Gi Clan had more than a dozen young experts who had reached the 5th Meridian Mysterious Realm — a number not unlike the Cheonun Sect's own. But the cold-eyed, black-haired youth standing at the very front of that pack radiated an overwhelming presence, like a crane standing out among a flock of chickens.
That one… has reached the 6th Meridian Mysterious Realm.
An absolute gulf in power. A crane among chickens. No disciple of the Cheonun Sect could hope to match him.
Wang Maeng, Beom Undae, and every other Cheonun Sect disciple who met that youth's icy gaze felt a terror as if they were tumbling from a ten-thousand-foot precipice. His martial arts existed on a completely different plane from theirs — an absolute difference in strength. Not one of them could be his match.
The Gi Clan… they were hiding a powerhouse like that?
Yeop Pung was standing at the very back, and even so he felt the 6th Meridian expert's gaze lock onto him — as if countless flying daggers rode that look, seeking to tear him apart alive.
Fine.
The grudge had now sunk in to the bone, but Yeop Pung did not care. He had already crossed a river of no return with the Gi Clan, ever since the Gi Beonjin affair.
Anyway, once the debt is big enough, you stop worrying about paying it back. It might even be better if that one only comes after me in the hunting tournament. The other Cheonun disciples will be a little safer.
Wait. Why am I worrying about their safety? Not my problem.
Yeop Pung met that killing gaze and, instead of flinching, lifted the corners of his mouth in a smile. A very gentle smile.
Shuk!
The man across from him snapped his eyes wide. He looked as if he had been moved by Yeop Pung's smile — so much so that his breath caught, and he became every bit as furious as Gi Yeo-hae.
"Yeop Pung — we'll settle this at the hunting tournament!!"
He left that last look of killing intent behind and vanished in the wake of the apoplectic Gi Yeo-hae. The Gi Clan party withdrew.
The Cheonun Sect, for its part, became famous overnight. The rumors, unfortunately, were not exactly of the flattering kind.
Once the commotion had settled, Han Un stepped forward to put things in order. He was considerably more reliable than Maeng Chang-haeng. After conferring with Naeng Chu, he guided everyone to the campsite that had been prepared in advance. They would rest for the night; the hunting tournament would begin in earnest tomorrow.
The elders first carried the snoring, dead-drunk Maeng Chang-haeng into a tent, then told the other disciples to get some rest as well. Nobody wanted to share a tent with Yeop Pung. Thanks to that, he enjoyed the unexpected fortune of a space all to himself.
Night fell. Yeop Pung had no choice but to set aside his Nine Heavens Cloud-Spirit Scripture training. He lay in the tent and began laying plans for the hunting tournament.
In this tournament, the Cheonun Sect and the Gi Clan are going to be at each other's throats. Catching prey will be the least of it — fighting those bastards is going to be constant.
Once tonight was over, only a single day would remain until the next temporal shift. After the hour of the Rat tomorrow, Yeop Pung would be able to return to the past.
But this time I can't go back to Nagun Peak. I'll only be able to move inside the Dragon Tomb… What can I even do there?
Ah — right. Where did Bone go? I didn't catch a single glimpse of him the whole time Martial Grand-Uncle Maeng was running wild… Didn't he say he was following me around?
Yeop Pung sorted through the tangle of thoughts in his head and settled on a rough direction for this journey through time. A concrete plan, though, would have to wait until he was actually inside the Dragon Tomb.
And so the night slipped quietly by. Caught between danger and stillness, the fateful hunting tournament was at last about to begin.