The Wrath of Cheonun Sect

Night had deepened toward the hour of the Rat. The moonlight hung unusually dim, and a hard wind tore through the trees. Nights like this were made for murder and plunder.

Yeop Pung slipped through the darkness as swiftly as a leopard through the forest. Scattered footprints and the occasional smear of blood marked his path. Nothing about the trail looked promising.

As he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tracked the signs, blood-soaked scraps of Cheonun Sect robes and shattered weapons began to appear. Of the Gi clan, though, there was still no trace of injury. The picture was grimly clear: the Cheonun disciples were being hunted, and they were paying for it in blood. Mercifully, he had yet to find a single corpse. Yeop Pung pushed himself faster.

By the time the moon stood at its zenith, faint voices drifted to him from up ahead.

He had arrived.

Yeop Pung dropped into the undergrowth at once. With every scrap of his aura clamped down as tightly as he could manage, he crept toward a clearing where firelight flickered among the trees.

When he drew near enough to make out the scene, his eyes caught on something and flashed.

So he was here after all.

Five Cheonun Sect disciples knelt in the clearing, hands and feet bound. One of them was Mo Soo-mi — the same disciple Yeop Pung had crossed paths with in the square not long ago.

But the Mo Soo-mi before him was no longer the delicate, almost feminine beauty from that afternoon. His face was smeared with blood, his body a lattice of wounds. The bleeding would not stop; he had already been hurt badly.

The four beside him were little better. Deep gashes marked their bodies. Their faces were swollen with bruises and caked with mud. They looked as though they had already endured a savage round of abuse.

Eight Gi clan warriors in black and white surrounded the five. Yeop Pung knew none of them by sight, but one among them radiated an aura every bit as formidable as Beom Undae's. That man was a master of the 5th Profound Meridian.

Mo Soo-mi and the others are only at the 4th Meridian. Of course the Gi clan's men caught them...

Yeop Pung held his breath and stayed where he was, taking in every detail of the clearing. The 5th Profound Meridian expert paced slowly toward Mo Soo-mi.

A sharp crack rang out as the man's open palm smashed across Mo Soo-mi's face. Mo Soo-mi went down hard.

"You filthy little wretches still won't talk? Looks like a beating is the only language you understand!"

"Pah!"

Sprawled in the dirt, Mo Soo-mi spat a mouthful of bloody saliva and spoke with iron in his voice.

"You Gi clan lackeys. I'm not afraid of your little tricks. If you mean to kill me, then get on with it. Otherwise I'll tear you apart myself. Hmph!"

"Still running that mouth when you're already at death's door!"

The expert drove a kick into Mo Soo-mi's gut as if swinging an iron mace. Mo Soo-mi coughed up another spray of blood and rolled across the ground.

"The rest of you — talk!"

The expert turned his gaze on the remaining four.

"Where is Yeop Pung? Tell me how you Cheonun people contact each other! Refuse, and I'll cut the tendons in your hands and feet one by one and throw you to the wolves!"

One of the four clearly had no stomach for it. His face had gone deathly pale; he looked ready to wet himself. He broke into a sobbing plea.

"P-please, no! Sir, I'm just an ordinary Cheonun disciple. I truly don't know where Yeop Pung is."

"Don't give me that rubbish! Didn't your lot set a rally point before you scattered? There's no chance Yeop Pung wouldn't go there."

"He really wouldn't..."

The spineless disciple was nearly weeping.

"W-we never told him the plan at all. Sir, please let me go. I'll leave Cheonun Sect. I'll even do menial work for the Gi clan — just spare my life, I beg you."

"You worthless coward!"

Mo Soo-mi roared from beside him.

"Cheonun Sect has no need for cravens like you. Shut your mouth!"

"I'm not like you, ready to die fighting for Cheonun Sect! I won't do it!"

The coward's last scrap of pride had already crumbled. He grovelled without a shred of dignity left.

"Sir, please spare me. I'll never set foot on Mount Tianyun again. I'll even scrub floors for the Gi clan — just let me live!"

"You traitor!"

Mo Soo-mi thrashed against his bonds as he shouted. The more he struggled, the tighter the ropes bit, and the more blood ran down his skin.

Contempt flickered in the other three disciples' eyes. They said nothing, but they looked at a man that craven, that spineless, with open disgust.

"Hahaha! Good — very good!"

The expert threw his head back and laughed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as he looked down at the coward.

"At least one of you knows how to read a room. Excellent. Your name was Ja-ryong, wasn't it..."

"Y-yes. I'm Ja-ryong."

The expert crouched slowly in front of him, a chilling smile on his face.

"With cowards like you in Cheonun Sect, of course our Gi clan can grind you underfoot. Hahaha. You want to walk out of here? Kowtow to me three times and say 'Cheonun Sect is trash' three times, and I'll let you go."

"Y-yes!"

Ja-ryong slammed his forehead into the dirt as if he'd been granted a pardon.

"Cheonun Sect is trash!"

"Ja-ryong! You're the trash — shut up!"

Mo Soo-mi's high, piercing voice had never sounded so unyielding.

"You two. Smash every last tooth in that girlish bastard's mouth. I don't want to hear another peep out of him."

"Yes, sir!"

At the order, two Gi clan warriors stalked toward Mo Soo-mi with cold purpose.

"Ignore him, Ja-ryong. Keep going."

"Y-yes. Cheonun Sect is trash!"

Ja-ryong's head struck the ground a second time.

"Hahaha!"

Every Gi clan warrior burst out laughing. The two who had been given the order picked stones off the ground and moved in beside Mo Soo-mi. One of them seized him by the hair and hauled him upright.

"Last one."

The warriors looked at Ja-ryong the way a man looks at a dog.

"Y-yes!"

Without a flicker of hesitation, Ja-ryong smashed his head down a third time and opened his mouth to shout.

"Cheonun Sect is—"

A black streak came out of nowhere and flew straight into Ja-ryong's open mouth.

A dull, ugly crack. The stone punched between his teeth and shattered them to pieces. Blood sprayed from his lips and spattered the dirt. He clutched his mouth and screamed.

That wretched sound tore through the night sky like a ghost's wail. Every man in the clearing jerked in shock.

"Wh-who's there?!"

All eight warriors' faces twisted. They snapped into a circle at once, eyes raking the dark forest.

An ice-cold voice steeped in killing intent drifted from the trees to their east, where a faint golden light glimmered among the trunks.

The eight warriors' eyes went wide. Four of them charged toward the golden light at once.

All four were skilled men of the 4th Profound Meridian. They were certain they could handle whoever was hiding in those trees. What they found when they plunged into the forest, however, was something else entirely.

Yeop Pung was burning. What he had just witnessed had set his rage alight. Even if the ones being tormented had been ordinary strangers, it would have cut him to the heart. That they were Cheonun disciples — men who had walked the same mountain with him for years — made it infinitely worse.

In that moment, he felt it: the pull of belonging to something larger than himself. He and Mo Soo-mi had never gotten along, but that was family business, an argument inside the walls. Outsiders insulting Cheonun Sect as trash was something he would never, under any heaven, allow.

He watched the four warriors hurtle toward him and had already decided how their skulls would break. Golden light flared beneath his feet, and the extreme speed of the 5th Profound Meridian erupted all at once.

This fast?

The warrior's shock had no time to become a defense. Yeop Pung's lightning palm was already crashing into his face.

A crackling detonation. The man's cheekbone shattered outright, half his face caving in. He flew backward, snapping four or five great trees before he finally stopped — and went out cold where he landed.

Strong. And utterly ruthless.

Everyone watching was overwhelmed by the merciless power of that single strike. The three who had already committed to the charge realized, too late, that they were throwing eggs at a boulder. Ice-cold sweat ran down their spines, and their attacks fell apart of their own accord.

"Take him down!"

They screamed it as if shouting could put the steel back in their arms. It did not help them catch him.

Yeop Pung flowed through Thunder Shadow Steps once more, slipping their blows like a ghost. A heartbeat later he was already at the next man's side.

The lightning palm exploded again. Another figure went flying, vomiting blood. A howl followed him down — his ribs were broken, and he had no fight left in him.

Yeop Pung's palm flashed a third time, and lightning seized another warrior where he stood. Then came the kick.

That last kick rose like a sea dragon bursting from the ocean. In a single, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blinding motion Yeop Pung snapped the final warrior's leg and tore the will to fight right out of him. The man's screams went on and on.

Thirty seconds. That was all it took. From the moment the four Gi clan warriors charged to the moment ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Yeop Pung put every one of them down, thirty seconds had passed.

A strange silence settled over the forest, broken only by Ja-ryong's moans and the four warriors' screams, weaving together into a wretched little dirge.

"Yeop Pung!"

Mo Soo-mi watched the figure walking slowly out of the trees and could barely find his voice.

"It's really Yeop Pung? He came to save us..."

The other three Cheonun disciples wore the same stunned look. This was the man they had all shunned and looked down on together — and he had come for them anyway.

"What? You're Yeop Pung?"

The captain of the eight warriors started — then a sly smile crept across his face.

"So you're Yeop Pung. We've been looking for you, and you walk right in. You've got some nerve."

He glanced back at the three men still with him and barked the order.

"You two, with me — we take this bastard down! The rest of you, watch these pieces of trash. Anyone so much as twitches, cripple him!"

"Yes, sir!"

They answered as one. Two of them fell in behind their captain.

The captain flooded his entire body with Profound Qi, and a crushing pressure rolled out of him — every bit the equal of Beom Undae's. He kicked off the earth and shot toward Yeop Pung.

"Yeop Pung! Today I'll shatter every bone in your body and settle Young Master Gi Beonjin's score!"