Uninvited Guests
"Five minutes. It'll be over before you know it."
Deung Chung's impatient voice rang out right on its heels.
"Combat training begins now! First pair—Beom Undae, get up there and show us how it's done! Jo Bi, you're his opponent!"
"Yes, sir!"
Beom Undae threw his chest out and strode onto the sparring platform with all the dignity he could muster.
Across from him, a Cheonbong Army warrior with a sullen, brooding face vaulted lightly onto the stage and squared off. Those watching closely could see he was a master of the 5th Meridian Profound Realm.
"Brother Jo, I look forward to learning from you."
Beom Undae bent at the waist in a show of courtesy, a fawning smile plastered across his face. Jo Bi, who was nothing more than an ordinary Cheonbong soldier, merely snorted, crossed his arms, and answered with icy contempt.
"Spare me the groveling and let's get on with it."
At Jo Bi's arrogant tone, every Cheonun disciple present clenched their teeth.
Beom Undae, you can drop to your knees and grovel like a dog, and they'll still look at you like dirt. You're not even worth a dog.
"Come at me!"
But Beom Undae betrayed no emotion whatsoever. He bellowed as he ignited his signature flame Profound Qi and charged.
"Bring it!"
A cold battle-lust flared in Jo Bi's eyes. His body transformed into a savage gale that howled toward Beom Undae with terrifying force.
In an instant, Profound Qi exploded across the platform as battle-lust boiled over. Raging flames collided and tangled with a gale that blotted out the sky. Profound martial arts of exquisite mystery crossed in a dazzling display of light.
"Beom Undae's holding his own!"
Wang Maeng and his companions kept their eyes locked on the platform. The two fighters traded more than a hundred exchanges in a deadlock. Then Jo Bi deliberately left an opening, and Beom Undae lunged for it without a second's hesitation.
It was a trap. Jo Bi's kick slammed into his thigh. Beom Undae coughed up a mouthful of blood and tumbled off the stage.
Thud!
The crowd watched with cold indifference as Beom Undae rolled across the dirt, covered in dust. Not a single person moved to help him. Only Baek Reung clenched his jaw and ran to his side.
"Undae, are you all right?"
Baek Reung hauled the dirt-caked Beom Undae to his feet.
Beom Undae's face had gone deathly pale. He spat another mouthful of blood, and even then, with a trembling effort, pressed his hands together in a salute toward Jo Bi.
"Th-thank you. Brother Jo, for going easy on me…"
"Hmph. Coward."
Jo Bi sneered, turned on his heel, and walked away.
"Undae, are you sure you're okay?"
Baek Reung supported him with genuine worry, guiding him off to the side.
Beom Undae pulled a spirit pill from his belt, swallowed it, and let out a labored sigh, a bitter smile twisting his lips.
"I didn't think they'd go this far even with me. Baek Reung—you'd better watch yourself too."
"Undae…"
"Haha. Still, this works out perfectly."
A vicious gleam flickered through Beom Undae's smile.
"Yeop Pung will be standing in that spot soon enough. The Cheonbong Army will send their strongest to crush him. No weapons allowed during training—he's as good as dead."
"Undae, you don't have to fight Yeop Pung to the bitter end…"
Pity clouded Baek Reung's eyes.
"What are you talking about?"
Beom Undae forced himself upright.
"In the Cheonun Sect, Yeop Pung and I cannot coexist. Help me back to the others."
Leaning on Baek Reung, Beom Undae staggered toward the crowd. The people around them watched with icy stares. His groveling display inspired nothing but genuine disgust.
Up on the high platform, Deung Chung was drunk on the sweet thrill of revenge.
This is only the beginning.
The two hundred Cheonun Sect disciples standing before him were the ones who had stolen the Autumn Hunt championship that rightfully belonged to the Cheonbong Legion. He was here today to settle that score. He would grind these disciples into the dirt, one by one, and make them see exactly what it cost to stand against the Cheonbong Army and defy the Military Supply Bureau.
"Next—Wang Maeng, step up!"
Deung Chung's cold bark snapped every gaze toward Wang Maeng.
So it's our turn at last…
Wang Maeng's eyelid twitched. His expression turned grim and resolute.
"Senior Brother Wang!"
The disciples around him called his name in voices thick with sorrow, as though they were watching a hero standing before a candle flame in the wind.
"Stop dawdling and get up here!"
A Cheonbong warrior was already waiting on the platform. His name was Noe Bun—a man built like a bear, enormous and powerfully muscled. The terrifying Profound Qi rolling off his body had already reached the 6th Meridian. He could crush Wang Maeng without breaking a sweat.
Crack!
Noe Bun clenched his fist as if setting off a string of firecrackers. Savage golden Profound Qi flooded the stage. He stood there like a rampaging bear with every hair on end, waiting for Wang Maeng to climb up.
Wang Maeng walked onto the platform at an unhurried pace. He caught the icy look that passed between Noe Bun and Deung Chung—a look that said, as clearly as words, That's the one. Don't leave enough of him to bury.
Noe Bun split his mouth in a ghastly grin. His teeth flashed a hard, predatory white.
"Wang Maeng. I look forward to a good match!"
Wang Maeng stopped at a respectful distance and clasped his fist in a polite salute.
"A good match? Get on your knees!"
Noe Bun spat the words like something foul and charged.
His fists became massive bludgeons capable of splitting mountains and shattering stone, tearing through the air toward Wang Maeng's chest with merciless force. This was one of the Cheonbong Legion's secret fist arts—
A crushing blow that split the air itself, descending on Wang Maeng's chest with the weight of a collapsing mountain.
That's a terrifying punch.
The spectators below clenched their jaws. A clean hit from that fist would put Wang Maeng in a sickbed for two weeks at the very least.
They said "don't inflict serious injury." How is that not serious injury?
Across the platform, Wang Maeng's eyes flew wide as he watched Noe Bun come roaring in. He let out a low, drawn-out shout.
"Fine—I'll take it!"
Wang Maeng drove both feet back, gathered every drop of Profound Qi in his body into his arms, and forged them into defensive pillars. He crouched low, settling into the stance that would absorb the least of the impact.
With every last ounce of strength!
BOOM!
Noe Bun's fist smashed into Wang Maeng's Profound Qi barrier. The terrifying power of the 6th Meridian shattered the defense as if it were paper. The impact birthed a colossal pillar of force that shot three hundred feet into the air.
"Senior Brother Wang!"
The crowd cried out in horror.
Wang Maeng was swept up like a fallen leaf, hurled skyward on that massive column of energy. Bright red blood sprayed across the air and stained his snow-white disciple's robes.
He spun several times in midair, barely weathering the shock, and managed to land at the edge of the platform. The crowd held its breath.
Wait… he's not as badly hurt as he should be?
Wang Maeng's face had gone somewhat pale, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth—but his eyes still burned bright. He smiled at Noe Bun.
"Incredible!"
"Heh heh."
Golden Profound Qi poured off Noe Bun's entire body. He looked like a wild stallion in a rage. His smile was a thing of nightmares.
"Tongue still working, I see. Next hit, you won't even be able to breathe."
Boom!
Noe Bun detonated the Profound Qi throughout his body and charged again with ferocious momentum. The platform floor shattered beneath his heavy strides.
"Incredible. I concede!"
The rest of Wang Maeng's words arrived a beat late.
A screech of sudden braking. It almost sounded as if Noe Bun's neck had snapped from the whiplash.
"What? You concede?"
Noe Bun's eyes bulged with fury, ready to pop from their sockets.
"Yes. I lost."
Wang Maeng's face was perfectly earnest.
"The Cheonbong Legion truly is formidable. I simply cannot win. Of course I lost."
Wh-what? We haven't even properly fought yet and he's already conceding?
Noe Bun, who was not the brightest of men, could not begin to process what was happening. He turned a bewildered look toward Deung Chung, whose face had gone livid.
W-what do I do?
Deung Chung was grinding his teeth.
What is this bastard playing at? Why the sudden shamelessness?
A moment ago he'd looked ready to fight the Cheonbong Army to the death. Where had all that Cheonun Sect pride and integrity gone?
Deung Chung clenched his jaw, wrestled with himself for a long moment, and finally spoke.
"Wang Maeng. You've still got fight left in you. Giving up this easily—are you trying to dodge the training?"
"Fight left in me? Not at all."
Wang Maeng blinked, then coughed up another mouthful of blood.
"Pff—hack! Ah, that punch just now, it was really, truly powerful. I think my meridians are damaged. Please, please get me out of here!"
"Senior Brother Wang, let me help you!"
Mo Soo-mi, who had been standing nearby, rushed over and took Wang Maeng's arm. Tears were already streaming down his face. His grief-stricken performance was a masterpiece.
"Y-you little—!"
Deung Chung was so furious his nose nearly twisted off his face.
He knew perfectly well that Wang Maeng had deliberately circulated his own Profound Qi to worsen the internal injury. But how was he supposed to call it out? The wound wasn't light, exactly—but it wasn't serious either. Two days in bed and he'd be fine.
This was not the picture Deung Chung had wanted. He had intended to stomp these brats so thoroughly they wouldn't leave a sickbed for weeks!
"S-sir…?"
Up on the platform, Noe Bun had been watching his opponent's performance, and a seed of doubt was taking root. He scratched his head and muttered.
"Did I… actually go too hard?"
Too hard, my ass!
Stabbed in the back by his own man yet again, Deung Chung felt the hair on his nape stand on end. He drew a deep breath, clenched his teeth, and snarled.
"You spineless coward. Get the hell out of my sight!"
Wang Maeng shot to his feet in a flash.
Time to go!
What in the world is happening… A few days ago I never would have guessed Wang Maeng was this shameless.
Deung Chung's face had gone rigid as he watched Wang Maeng return to the ranks. Then his gaze slid to Mo Soo-mi, who had just finished his supporting performance.
"Mo Soo-mi. You're next!"
"M-me?"
Mo Soo-mi's face went white with terror.
"Quit stalling and get on the stage!"
Deung Chung looked as though the mere sight of Mo Soo-mi was giving him a headache. He turned to the Cheonbong warrior standing behind him—Son Yang—and ground out his orders through gritted teeth.
"Once you're on that platform, don't give him an opening. Finish it in one blow. Let's see what excuse those slippery bastards come up with to dodge a fight then."
"Understood, Commandant!"
Son Yang clenched his fist and leaped onto the stage. The terrifying Profound Qi rolling off him was unmistakably of the 5th Meridian Profound Realm—more than enough to crush Mo Soo-mi outright.
He had not forgotten Deung Chung's orders. He would not give that girlish little thing a single chance. Before Mo Soo-mi could even offer a greeting, Son Yang detonated the Profound Qi throughout his body and charged with a rumbling roar.
Mo Soo-mi thrust out both hands to stop him and shrieked.
"Wait!"
"Wait, he says?"
Son Yang ignored him. He was already committed to the charge.
Mo Soo-mi's face was a portrait of teary-eyed panic. His voice climbed to a piercing wail.
"I said wait! I—I can't fight today. It's that time of the month…!"
Son Yang, still mid-charge, was so stunned he nearly pitched face-first onto the platform.
"Weren't you a man?"
