Chapter 140
Chapter 140
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Translator: penny
Chapter Title: Night of a Hundred Ghosts (6)
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“So-hye!”
Uluk.
Moyong Seon-ya spat out a mouthful of blood and slumped deeply to the ground.
“Damn it. I was too careless.”
Nangong Yun-ho bit his lip and stepped forward with his footwork, but Gonya-pyeong, who had snatched his prey, was already unfurling his membrane wings.
He was planning to flee just like that.
“Out of my way.”
Chwik.
As Baek Ri-seol gripped her twin swords in reverse grip, preparing to unleash her secret swordsmanship.
Ppeok!
The monster, who had opened his mouth defenselessly, staggered.
Ppeok!
From where the second striking sound echoed, a dainty elbow was pounding into the inner wrist.
Ppok! Ppeok-ppeok-ppok!
Leather drums bursting one after another followed in quick succession.
“I can do it. I can read it.”
Every time he tried to spread his wings, Moyong So-hye struck with exquisite timing, and even from afar, the monster's panic was palpable.
“Kraaaah—!”
But as expected of an expert.
He unleashed his signature swift palm strikes toward the savage prey.
Papapapapok!
Ppeok-ppeok-ppeok-ppok!
Fist and palm techniques intertwined, erupting in a deafening roar.
The skill gap was stark.
The palm shadows that followed instantly overwhelmed the Wooden Puppet Hundred Hands technique.
But Moyong So-hye had an ally.
Shiiik!
Baek Ri-seol glided across the grass like stepping on air, stabbing into his back.
Sasak—.
Nangong Yun-ho closed the distance with heavy footwork.
Peng! Ddang!
The monster retracted both hands, deflecting the sword with his palms and flicking his index finger to smack away the blade slicing toward his abdomen.
The moment he took in the allies beyond with his eyes.
His focus on the palm strikes wavered for a moment.
That was when.
“Waaaaaah—!”
With a scream of fury, Moyong So-hye burst into tears.
“You idiot instructor!”
The flustered monster tried to pour more power into his palms.
Ppeook!
“Krruk?”
A kick drove between his legs.
The monster's form lurched violently.
Ppok! Ppeok!
What followed was the Wooden Puppet Hundred Hands beating an even stranger rhythm.
Ppok! Ppeok-ppeok-ppok!
Peopeopeopeok!
Ppak! Udeok! Jjeok!
His hands moved so fast they were invisible, climbing up both arms to strike the throat and smash down on the crown of the head.
Moyong Seon-ya watched the relentless barrage, her eyes widening.
“My god. So-hye's striking arts have evolved into something so unpredictable?”
It had transformed into a completely different form from what she had seen before.
‘I can't just stand by and watch.’
She staggered to her feet, channeling the Jasper Swordsmanship.
Though she now served as Silver Hall's night duty instructor, the sword prodigy who once set the Moyong family ablaze hadn't vanished.
Seuweueueu.
A more solemn aura rose from the sword tip.
But a single phrase cooled the heated battlefield.
“Looks like it's time to end this.”
Wang-woo, who had arrived panting, was forming a transparent energy over his blade.
Yeo Mae-hong's eyes widened at the sight.
“That's sword... aura.”
The supreme realm granted only to transcendent experts who had surpassed the Wall of Lamentations.
“Golden sword aura...”
From the sword tip, auras emerged one by one like butterflies shedding their shells, beginning to devour the demonic energy.
“Kraaaah!”
Sensing the crisis, the monster erupted his inner energy and thrashed.
Kwakwakwa-kwang!
The rampaging demonic energy created a massive whirlwind, hurling nearby objects about indiscriminately.
“Kyaaaak!”
“Watch out!”
Baek Ri-seol snatched Moyong So-hye from the air, who had been caught in the blast closest by.
“Power far exceeding this generation?”
Impressive, but.
“To lose reason and be swept away by brute force.”
Amid the howling winds battering their ears, Wang-woo murmured like a song.
“It's no different from handing a peerless treasured sword to a child.”
Seok. Seok.
Wang-woo advanced step by step with unwavering strides and swung his sword.
Saaak.
A brilliant sword light flashed, cleaving the wind.
Chwaak!
The monster's right arm shot up into the air.
“Keoheok!”
“Kaaak! Kaaak!”
The demon facing death struggled within the pressure of the sword aura.
“You can't escape.”
Wang-woo gathered his final strike in his heart.
Tteureureu.
The sweat dripping down his forehead hinted at how much power he was pouring into the next blow.
That was when.
“What? What is this mess?”
A familiar voice rang out.
Umjjeol.
The sword pressure dominating the area faltered for an instant.
His concentration broken, a gap formed in the sword pressure.
“Kraaaah!”
Seizing the moment, the monster blasted demonic energy to repel the pressure and began his escape.
The escape was toward the new intruder.
Instinct told him he needed fresh prey to replenish his life force.
A faint, flickering weak presence.
But the moment their eyes met, a human voice emerged from the demon for the first time.
“Huh? Huh?”
Huh what?
Chwaak!
The blood-spewing monster slid to a halt without losing momentum.
Chu Un-hwi, sword in hand, glanced around.
With utter incomprehension in his voice, he asked.
“Why is everyone making that face?”
“I-Instructor Ch-Chu...”
Instructor Chu!
Seeing everyone on the verge of tears, Chu Un-hwi feigned surprise.
“What? Huh, what?”
“You, seriously...”
Why are you only showing up now?
Glad you're safe.
Though many questions swirled, Yeo Mae-hong couldn't open her mouth easily.
Seeing this, Chu Un-hwi smirked.
Turning to Nangong Yun-ho, he asked.
“Yun-ho.”
“Yes, Instructor.”
“Was this guy here someone we couldn't kill?”
That would be a problem.
I heard fighting and just threw my sword right away.
Muttering, Chu Un-hwi tilted his head at the lackluster reaction.
“Gotta bury him.”
“...Pardon?”
“What else? If I killed someone innocent, I need to destroy the evidence first.”
Just don't do things that require evidence destruction in the first place.
To someone's retort, Chu Un-hwi replied.
“You never know with the world.”
“No. No. It's fine!”
As they stopped Chu Un-hwi from dragging the body into the forest by one leg, Moyong Seon-ya asked with feigned anger.
“Why'd you show up so late?”
“Went to fetch water and got lost.”
“The stream's right next door. Got lost?”
What to scold him for?
As she pondered her words, Chu Un-hwi patted what he carried over his shoulder.
“And picked this up on the way.”
Only then did Yeo Mae-hong spot the dark red form and gasp in shock.
“Squad Leader Yang!”
The reunion was awfully sticky.
Of course, that was Chu Un-hwi's assessment.
The others had reddened eyes.
Especially Jo-hyeon, who cradled the limp Squad Leader Yang and sobbed loudly.
“Waaah. Squad Leader Yang.”
You're alive. You're alive!
As his comrades rejoiced tearfully, Chu Un-hwi whispered to Yeo Mae-hong.
“Play it nice, and we might score some noodles later.”
“Seriously. Read the room.”
What did I do?
Grumbling, Chu Un-hwi soon turned his attention elsewhere.
“Instructor Moyong.”
“What?”
“The fortune teller said not to go near water.”
“Why bring that up right now, out of nowhere?”
Moyong Seon-ya mumbled curses under her breath.
“No, the fortune teller seems legit. Maybe I should—”
“Shut up, please.”
The next day, the minor sects gathered by Myojin Sect arrived.
Along with them, they discovered one more comrade's body and seven additional survivors, finally bringing the sudden incident to a close.
“Phew. One worry off my mind.”
Amid the admiring gazes of the disciples from nearby minor sects.
“Time to head back.”
Wang-woo declared.
Thus ended the short, intense ordeal.
At least for the upright martial artists living in the light.
One day upon returning to his post.
Under cover of deep night, Chu Un-hwi slipped out of Myojin Sect.
His destination: a ruined inn on the outskirts of So-ho.
Entering, the stench of mold assaulted his nose.
Squeak.
He sat on a relatively intact chair, and a hunched figure dropped from the air.
“Danya. You irreverent fool.”
Why are you mad again?
“Making your lord wait.”
“Let it be. He has his reasons.”
“No reason excuses making your lord wait.”
Her sharp glare suggested another round of mental conditioning soon.
As he rested in the silence, the awaited guest arrived.
Whiik.
Dropping from the air were the night-clad Myojin Sect Lord and a black orb.
It was Danya.
“Danya.”
“My lord—”
“Why so la—”
“Well, you see. Because of this woman.”
But inside the black orb was someone who shouldn't be here.
“Yoran.”
“Long time no see, my lord.”
What brings the Infinite Branch Chief of the Hao Clan here?
As he asked softly, the pale-faced Yoran clutched her skirt tightly.
“I have urgent words for the Dark Lord.”
“...Words, you say.”
“My usefulness isn't exhausted yet. So, to Branch Lord Dan.”
Chu Un-hwi eyed the rambling, terrified Yoran and turned.
“Danya.”
Explain.
At the emotionless tone, Danya flinched and knelt on one knee.
“My lord. So, I told her it was fine. But this woman kept insisting on following.”
Danya waved her bandages frantically, explaining.
“No matter how I threatened her, she insisted on coming.”
“You brought her here?”
“She said she'd be helpful. So I let her.”
“Tsk.”
Chu Un-hwi pressed his brow with his index finger and faced Yoran.
“Branch Chief.”
“...Yes, my lord.”
“Seems I've worried you quite a bit.”
Unlike his gentle tone, the room's temperature plummeted.
“Hiiik.”
“Kuhk.”
Danya and Myo-gwang gasped, but Yoran stood firm.
Even amid the killing intent, she didn't stop advancing step by step.
“My usefulness isn't done.”
“My lord. To be of help to you, I've gathered the underworld tales of So-ho.”
“Surely. I can be of help. Help. Hnng.”
Here, Yoran swallowed a groan.
Why treat her, who had chased after him so desperately, so coldly?
Tears welled in Yoran's eyes.
Yet she desperately clung to the booklet in her hands.
“This.”
What she offered was a book densely packed with So-ho's underworld stories.
“A tome containing everything about So-ho. A treasure of the Hao Clan.”
It was also the fruit of her desperate, sleepless efforts.
A creation born from nights without sleep to keep this man by her side even a little longer.
Truthfully, she hadn't planned to give it so easily.
She would have boasted of her utility first.
“Mangcheon Society has a base in So-ho.”
“If you seek to claim this place, these are the ones you must beware.”
“They pose great danger to the Dark Lord.”
But what was this?
Palak. Palak.
In the silence, only the sound of turning pages echoed hollowly.
Wasn't she just like a child awaiting her father's return?
‘Nothing ever goes as planned with him.’