Chapter 215
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: Limit Line (1)
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Pyun Bok-ja thrust forward relying solely on speed, but Flying Tiger parried it without budging an inch.
Clang~
Sparks flew as Pyun Bok-ja staggered back unsteadily. In that final moment, he had realized something was off and flipped his shortsword mid-thrust to deflect Flying Tiger's downward strike. The impact had sent him reeling.
In contrast, Flying Tiger hadn't retreated a single step. He had effortlessly repelled an enemy who had come at him with full commitment in a single stroke.
Yet this couldn't simply be chalked up to a difference in skill between the two. Flying Tiger himself was baffled by the outcome.
Flying Tiger had braced himself for the backlash of the collision, given how fast Pyun Bok-ja's thrust had been.
But the actual feel of the impact upon clashing was practically nonexistent. Was it right to call it "lighter than usual" or "underwhelming"? Still, the sensation was a good one. And since it was a feeling Flying Tiger had never experienced before, he was puzzled even as his instincts grasped it instinctively.
This must be what it feels like to strike something properly. And he had no idea when he might savor this sensation again.
In other words, there had been an element of luck involved.
The result of the clash was unexpected even for Flying Tiger. It had surprised him. But regardless, there were things he still needed to do.
With that, Flying Tiger lunged toward the recoiling Pyun Bok-ja and slashed horizontally.
If the earlier vertical cut had followed Master Sang's teachings, this horizontal one came directly from the old man of Sandong's personal guidance.
Crash!
Flying Tiger's single stroke shattered Pyun Bok-ja's shortsword as he desperately tried to block. Shards of the broken blade scattered in all directions, and the successive impacts threw Pyun Bok-ja off balance, sending him tumbling pitifully.
Flying Tiger waited for the flying fragments to pass, preparing his Wind-Following Ring. Eyes wide as he aimed to end it in one decisive rush, he suddenly saw the trajectory of each shard with unusual clarity.
Exactly seven pieces. Excluding the finer metal dust, that was the count.
In that instant, as if entranced, Flying Tiger pressed his left hand to his sword's guard and advanced, while swinging the Golden Overlord Sword in his right hand through the air.
It was the Fragment Storm Strike!
Previously, he had deliberately shattered his own blade to launch the fragments. This was his first attempt using an enemy's broken sword.
The blade wind created a vortex that distorted the shards' paths. Three were sucked into the whirl, spun around one and a half times, and then fired off.
They shot forward like loaded bullets.
Thud thud thud.
Pyun Bok-ja jolted. The flying pieces raked, tore, and embedded into him.
And as Flying Tiger followed up with a leaping slash, Pyun Bok-ja collapsed helplessly.
Slash slash. Stab.
The tale was long, but the fight was short. Even so, the tale felt unfinished, and both sides left unsatisfied.
From Pyun Bok-ja's perspective, he had staked everything on unity and struck at what he believed was the perfect moment. Thus, he could only blame his own shortcomings; there was no room to contest the outcome.
For the victorious Flying Tiger, it went without saying. Especially since, on his first try, the technique had executed flawlessly, filling him with exhilaration.
From the cross-slash weaving vertical and horizontal strokes, followed by the Fragment Storm Strike (originally, he had planned to insert the Eight-Directional Storm Slash there).
Every single stroke carried an "arcane essence," and the emergent effects they wove together were nothing short of miraculous.
This was even more true imagining how refined these techniques would become in the future, rather than right now.
Flying Tiger sensed it instinctively.
A supreme technique had been born in the martial world, and today marked its starting point.
Cough cough.
Blood mixed into Pyun Bok-ja's coughs, and a hot lump surged up his throat. Would spitting it out bring relief? Only for a moment, probably. He fought back the urge to vomit, his head spinning, and despaired.
As an assassin.
And as a martial artist.
Lying on his back, Pyun Bok-ja gazed at the approaching Flying Tiger with dying eyes.
Flying Tiger sheathed his Golden Overlord Sword and approached indifferently. There was no thrill of victory in his demeanor; he simply seemed to be delivering a verdict. Like kicking a roadside pebble without assigning it any special meaning.
This attitude scraped at what little pride Pyun Bok-ja had left.
"The Red Nail Brotherhood. Martial world's vermin that deserve to die. Got anything to say, Five Tiger Warrior?"
"I was only loyal!"
"So you're saying you're just a dog someone raised? Fine, I'll acknowledge that. But listen well, you beast—you need to know that in human society, livestock that dares bite people gets culled without mercy."
"Heh heh heh, don't get cocky. You'll regret this for sure... Urk."
Flying Tiger pressed his foot down hard on Pyun Bok-ja's throat, as if to snap it. Having silenced him, he demanded answers.
"Regret? You think you beasts are that impressive, enough to make me and my team regret it? Look at yourself now. It's hard to believe."
"Heh heh heh, curious, are you?"
Seeing Flying Tiger's interest, Pyun Bok-ja laughed—was it really joy? In any case, he mumbled something with venom-laced voice.
What more did he plan to reveal?
As Flying Tiger leaned down, his face hardened. Pyun Bok-ja's eyes truly gleamed with welcoming anticipation. And resolve, even.
Why? Before he could ask, Flying Tiger leaped back.
He kicked off the ground and retreated, then flipped his body with the next step, hurling himself away with all his might.
Boom!
The explosion engulfed a thirty-foot radius. A deafening roar shook heaven and earth as flames erupted. Then, clods of earth swallowed the space, billowing thick dust.
Roll roll~
Flying Tiger curled into a ball like a shrimp, arms shielding his head, tumbling for a good while. He rose covered in dirt, his expression one of dismay.
Fortunately, only scrapes.
"Damn it."
The curse escaped him naturally.
It wasn't just nearly dying to the enemy's self-detonation. What shook him more was the eerie fanaticism. It wasn't the act of mere street thugs.
This fight would be far from easy.
An ominous premonition settled in.
Flying Tiger caught his breath, easing the tension coursing through his body. He mounted his horse and left the dirt mound behind, crossing the barren desert.
Business here was done; he planned to rejoin his comrades and discuss.
......
Flying Tiger returned to the inn in Jangyeok about an hour after dashing out.
The ordeal had yielded solid results.
Not only had he repelled the Face Pursuit Squad's assassination unit that arrived unannounced, but he had counterattacked and gained some satisfying spoils. Plus, he'd extracted a few pieces of information.
And above all, weren't crucial clues waiting back at the inn?
But no.
Flying Tiger had harbored great expectations, but the news he received was deeply disappointing. And gravely heavy.
"What? They're all dead? Even Sa-myo?"
Sa-myo was dead!
Flying Tiger blurted in blank astonishment.
"Before we could even call a physician. After you dashed out, Dan-geum's urgent cries brought me and a few others running. But he had already breathed his last. Cause was excessive bleeding from his side."
"......"
When Flying Tiger had treated Sa-myo, he was already badly hemorrhaged. Especially the dagger in his side had been too critical to touch. So he had only compressed and stabilized the area to prevent worsening.
Thus, even with his emergency care, Sa-myo's death wasn't inexplicable.
Just futile.
Though he understood, Flying Tiger still felt unsettled. He looked at Jin Ga-yong, who had shared this, with a troubled expression.
"Did Sa-myo leave any last words before dying?"
"None. And the situation didn't allow for it."
According to Jin Ga-yong, the situation had unfolded like this.
Flying Tiger had subdued the intruder entering through the window, handed him to Dan-geum who followed, then leaped out to pursue the rest.
But that subdued intruder had caused trouble.
Whether from Flying Tiger's haste leading to a mistake, the man hadn't been fully restrained.
So as Dan-geum tried to bind him, the intruder sprang up in resistance. After a brief scuffle, Dan-geum finally killed him.
At first, the intruder thrashed with monstrous strength, giving Dan-geum a hard time. But weaponless and relying on bare hands, he tired rapidly from overexertion. Dan-geum hammered him down with his mace, turning him into a bloody pulp.
Apparently, the intruder had ingested some drug igniting his inner power, squeezing out his final reserves at the cost of his life. Jin Ga-yong added that he suspected as much himself.
In any case, Flying Tiger's room ended up in chaos, and Sa-myo perished in the aftermath. Not directly harmed, but the jostling likely shifted the dagger in his side, piercing organs—that was the guess.
"My carelessness caused the accident. I should have secured the vital points properly."
"I examined the intruder's wounds. Slashed wrists and ankles, even a glancing stab near the heart. Perfect restraint. No one would imagine him moving again in that state. Your judgment was sound. We simply didn't know those vermin had such peculiar methods. But thanks to it, we've gained valuable intel now."
Flying Tiger nodded glumly, nothing more to say. Grateful for Jin Ga-yong's consideration. Then a sudden thought struck him.
"But Leader Jin, how did you identify traces of my sword on the bloodied corpse Dan-geum made?"
"It was a gruesome task."
"Why go through that?"
"You're wondering why bother sifting through the mangled body? Probably stems from the same doubts you're harboring now."
"So you suspected too..."
Flying Tiger eyed him meaningfully, and Jin Ga-yong sighed.
"Indeed. Coincidentally, both the key witness comrade and the two prisoners died. So, like it or not, we had to verify to avoid loose ends."
"And the conclusion?"
"Coincidental indeed. No signs of tampering."
"If you say so, Leader Jin, I'll accept it. What about the one Na-baek Eul Leader fought on the roof?"
"Dead too. Fell from the roof with severe wounds; neck snapped."
It was frustrating.
Thus, the only clues left were the fragmented words Sa-myo had left Flying Tiger before dying.
First Squad, and nails.
Trap and preparation.
Especially... be wary of him.