Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Fighting the Clam
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A scant few years after that day over a decade ago, the Righteous-Demonic Great War broke out. Even amid the war, some people's lives followed their predetermined course unchanged.
Things that one must go through at certain points in life—like a wedding, for instance.
On a day when apricot blossoms were in full bloom, Dang Yak-ran heard the news that Seop Dae-gang had become betrothed to Mo Yong-ak.
Dang Yak-ran had forgotten Seop Dae-gang.
No one had told her, but she knew. The conversations shared under the starlight in their childhood were like dew that vanished with the sunrise.
'Does he know it now, too?'
* * *
"So what is it you want to say?"
Heuk Do-san asked.
Dang Yak-ran snapped back to reality.
"I never saw you even once during the Righteous-Demonic Great War. Never even heard your name. Someone with your level of skill should have made waves. There's only one way that could happen."
"......?"
"You became a Demonic Cultist?"
In other words, we never crossed paths because you were with the Demonic Cult.
Further, it implied he must have racked up merits to snag a prime minister post in the new dynasty the Demonic Cult was forging.
But that was a fool's thinking. Shandong Province might be called a province because it lay on the continent, but its vast expanse rivaled a whole kingdom.
Tens of thousands mobilized in battles there over a decade—how could anyone know everyone? There were hundreds of battlefields alone.
"I thought that talk was over."
"I never said it was."
"I don't care what you think."
With that, Heuk Do-san turned and resumed walking. Dang Yak-ran trailed after him like a duckling, chattering away.
"That's ridiculous! A disciple of White Deer Academy, revering Confucius and Mencius and studying Confucianism, defecting to the Demonic Cult? No way. That's not right!"
*Think whatever you want. I'm walking my own path.*
Heuk Do-san lengthened his strides.
"You know what? That night the meteor shower fell, Mo Yong-ak was out on the sea off Shandong too. We were supposed to ambush the Heavenly Demon's sailboat together."
Crack.
Heuk Do-san halted, and a twig snapped underfoot.
He'd briefly considered she might have joined the final battle. But targeting the Heavenly Demon's sailboat?
She was a martial arts master and the Moyong family's cherished daughter, well-suited for a key role. And her fiancé Seop Dae-gang was a rising star shaking the orthodox martial world.
"I see."
"That's it?"
"You still like that Mount Hua Sect guy?"
"How would you...?"
"Liking someone is like having a cough—it slips out no matter how you try to hide it. Your eyes gave it away that day."
"That day?"
"The day we first met."
"Don't get the wrong idea. It's been ages."
"Why?"
"It's been ten years. Time enough for a blade to rust away. Why fuss over a feeling that never even touched me?"
"Then why ask me if that's the end of it? You don't think time passed for you but stood still for me, do you?"
"......"
"Don't lose sight of my back. It's pitch black, and the scenery's all the same in every direction—you could easily get lost. Head the wrong way thinking it's the coast, and you might fall behind for good."
Heuk Do-san picked up his pace again.
The startled Dang Yak-ran hurried to catch up.
* * *
"Why are those two coming out of the woods together?"
As Heuk Do-san and Dang Yak-ran emerged from the forest side by side, Gong Cheon-ak asked.
"Do I have to report my every move to you?"
"Who wants to know that crap!"
"I ran into him while gathering firewood."
Dang Yak-ran set down an armful of dry branches. Gong Cheon-ak snorted derisively.
Hyeon-gak wore a peculiar expression but said nothing.
Looking around, Heuk Do-san couldn't believe his eyes. Beside the roaring bonfire sat a fairly large cauldron, with people gathered around it.
*'A cauldron? Where'd that come from?'*
On closer inspection, it wasn't quite right. It was dark and mottled, barnacles clustered thickly on it, and what looked like seaweed dangled in tangles.
Above all, it wasn't perfectly round.
Even someone who never set foot in a kitchen wouldn't mistake it for a cauldron.
"What is this?"
"It's a clam."
Yeom Jin-sang answered.
"A clam?"
Dang Yak-ran asked in astonishment.
"After the tide went out, we wandered the beach and found this big boy just sitting there. At first, I thought it was a rock and tried prying off the barnacles around it. Kahaha!"
Yeom Jin-sang's shoulders shook with effort as he spoke.
Heuk Do-san and Dang Yak-ran gaped in unison. They'd never seen a clam of such shocking size.
Glancing aside, Gong Cheon-ak and Bing-seol were already grinning ear to ear at the thought of plump clam meat.
Heuk Do-san thought:
*'How much meat will it yield?'*
Dang Yak-ran thought:
*'This isn't an ordinary clam...'*
"But why aren't you cooking it?"
Heuk Do-san prodded.
"There's one problem."
"Problem?"
"This damn thing swallowed glue or something—won't open its mouth."
"......?"
Heuk Do-san wondered if he'd misheard.
Of course a clam out of water clamps shut. He couldn't fathom why that was a problem.
"You can see the size—its grip is no joke. The top and bottom shells are sealed tighter than a needle could pierce. Can't pry it open. So, mind lending me your sword?"
"Why the sword?"
"Jam it between the shells and force it apart."
The air turned icy.
The only weapons here worth the name were the axe and sword. Yet no one fought over them.
That was because Heuk Do-san, their owner, had declared neutrality.
Not because they couldn't take them from him—it was obvious both sides would clash fiercely to keep them from the other.
Who ended up with the weapons was that crucial.
Yet Yeom Jin-sang asked for it casually. Gong Cheon-ak and Hyeon-gak's faces hardened.
*'This bastard...'*
Heuk Do-san glared at Yeom Jin-sang with flatfish eyes. The fool was trying the same trick on him he'd used on Gong Cheon-ak. Know who you're messing with.
"Won't work."
"Why not?"
"You think this short sword can pry open a clam that size? It'll snap before the shell does."
"Then lend me the axe."
"No."
"Why not?"
"It'd hurt."
"So we don't eat the clam?"
Heuk Do-san was dumbfounded.
As if they couldn't eat it without prying the shell clean? These were the types who'd whine about no key even if handed a treasure chest.
"I figured we'd crack it neat and make some broth, but no helping it. Guess we'll smash the shell, pick out the meat, skewer it on sticks, and roast."
Gong Cheon-ak rolled up his sleeves and stepped forward.
Heuk Do-san's incredulous look must have bruised his pride.
He slowly drew internal energy from his dantian with one hand. Then he brought his hand blade down without hesitation.
Boom!
Silence fell in an instant.
Gong Cheon-ak's face said, *Huh? That's not right.* Sure enough, the clam merely shook like a loose boulder—unscathed.
"Kekeke, what a sturdy clam."
Gong Cheon-ak spouted nonsense to cover his embarrassment, then spread his legs shoulder-width.
He drew internal energy upward from his lower dantian with both hands.
When they reached chest height, a purple orb of chilling energy formed.
*'Heavenly Demon Flame Palm!'*
Hyeon-gak groaned inwardly.
The Heavenly Demon Flame Palm was a technique devised to shatter city walls, one of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's top-five secret palm strikes.
This was Gong Cheon-ak's second time using it—first to fight over snowballs the day before.
The purple glow suggested he was squeezing out every last drop of his remaining qi.
*'Heavenly Demon Flame Palm just to crack a clam? Burning all his qi to boot? He's lost it.'*
Thwack!
He slammed his palm—center of the hand—flush against the shell and froze like a statue. His face turned ashen yellow.
As with any breaking technique, if the brick doesn't shatter, the hand takes the recoil. He must be gritting his teeth against the bone-crushing pain.
Everyone was stunned.
The Seventh Star Lord, heir to the Heavenly Demon's legacy, failing twice to crack a clamshell.
Even after unleashing the Heavenly Demon Flame Palm, the cult's signature ultimate technique that terrorized the martial world.
"Amitabha. I knew it was no ordinary clam, but to withstand the Heavenly Demon's secret palm art? Truly a spirit creature."
Hyeon-gak spouted white lies.
He praised the shell's toughness, but meant to mock the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's arts for failing against even a clam.
Gong Cheon-ak's already sour face twisted further.
"I underestimated it and didn't go all out. As if I couldn't crush a mere clam!"
"Amitabha, a disciple of the Heavenly Demon's lineage needing full power just to break it. What a clam indeed. Surely a thousand-year spirit."
"Amitabha my ass. If you're so sure, you try it. I hear your Shaolin arts stem from some stone monk Bodhidharma, with a thousand years of history. Wonder which wins—a thousand-year clam or thousand-year arts."
"Out of the way, you clown."
Gong Cheon-ak stepped aside, and Hyeon-gak planted himself there. Unlike Gong Cheon-ak, he made no show. He merely raised one hand to his chest and murmured sutras.
"Born borrowing a clam's body, living past a hundred— you've toiled enough. Now earn merit filling the bellies of the hungry one last time, then be reborn in paradise. Om mani padme hum."
He even prayed for the clam's soul, deeming it a living thing. Then he bellowed like thunder.
"Go!"
Hyeon-gak's palm sliced the air. At impact, he spun his palm center to unleash his inner energy—Explosive Strength.
The technique was Vajra Prajna Palm, a Shaolin secret not inferior to Heavenly Demon Flame Palm.
Having seen Gong Cheon-ak fail twice, Hyeon-gak went all-in from the start. He had no doubt the shell would shatter.
He even worried he'd overdo it, scattering meat and shards everywhere to look foolish.
But...
Splack!
"Argh!"
The palm must have glanced off the curved surface—the clam shot up like lightning.
It smacked Gong Cheon-ak's jaw as he stood nearby, then tumbled six or seven times before stopping.
"You damned bald bastard!"
Gong Cheon-ak froze mid-lunge to smash Hyeon-gak's jaw.
Hyeon-gak's lips quivered. Bloodshot eyes, steam pouring from his nostrils.
*'Kekeke. That's more like it.'*
The onlookers were dumbfounded.
First the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's Heavenly Demon Flame Palm, then Shaolin's Vajra Prajna Palm. Pinnacle martial arts used on a mere clamshell.
Yet the clam endured unscathed.
Yeom Jin-sang, Bing-seol, and Dang Yak-ran were half-bewildered, half-amazed at the absurdity.
Gong Cheon-ak seized the chance to jeer.
"A thousand-year art can't crack one clam. Why bother learning it? Figures with you monks."
"Go!"
Enraged to his core, Hyeon-gak unleashed dual palms at the clam.
"Hmph, my turn now!"
Fearing Hyeon-gak might crack it first and make him look bad, Gong Cheon-ak moved opposite and rained fists.
And so began the bizarre sight of Shaolin's Arhat monk and the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's Seventh Star Lord vying with palm strikes over one clam.
Thud-thud-thud!
Whack-whack-whack!
The clam bounced every which way but never opened. A tiny fortress of iron.
As Gong Cheon-ak and Hyeon-gak's hands sped up and their faces flushed red, Dang Yak-ran, Bing-seol, and Yeom Jin-sang's faces paled.
*'What the hell are they doing?'*
*'Pride cost them their senses.'*
*'They're insane. Utterly insane.'*
Fed up, Heuk Do-san clucked his tongue.
"Tsk tsk tsk. So pitiful, so pitiful."