Chapter 32
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Chapter 9. Evil Ghosts (3)
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Flying Tiger charged in, but from another angle, it looked like he'd voluntarily leaped right into the heart of the Three Reapers Formation.
Amid the onslaught of slashing blades pouring down from every side, he had no chance to attack—he was too busy blocking and parrying. In the process, a cut grazed his thigh, soaking through with blood.
But the fierce barrage of strikes had loosened the formation. Having plunged into its center, Flying Tiger unleashed another eight slashes in quick succession.
This was the second step of the Sixty-Four Paths of the Wind Water Ring, a pure offensive flurry this time, abandoning all defense.
The enemies hadn't expected him to weather their all-out assault and immediately counter with another deadly sword dance. Even if they had, they lacked the capacity to handle it.
Aaagh!
One let out a strangled scream as he was flung backward like a ragdoll. Five of Flying Tiger's eight slashes had converged on him.
The remaining two paled and barely retreated in time, shattering the Three Reapers Formation.
Riding the momentum, Flying Tiger moved to sweep them all away with the third step of the Wind Water Ring.
Whoosh~
Throwing stars came whistling in.
They curved and twisted through the dim underground chamber, painting the space in a mesmerizing display—a true thousand changes in a stream.
It was Hundred Flowers, the signature ultimate technique of Ja-Ya Chariot Seotakjin. She'd been biding her time, and now she struck.
But Flying Tiger, who had prepared for this, swiftly retracted his steps, pulling back again and again as he unleashed sixteen slashes into the air. Unable to predict their paths, he scattered them densely in all directions.
Clang clang clang~
Each throwing star carried a heavy force. Every time Flying Tiger deflected one with his blade, his wrist throbbed, and a sinister energy seeped in, lunging toward his heart to tear it apart.
It was the power of the Blood Fetus Black Rock Scripture.
Flying Tiger hurriedly circulated his inner energy to shield his heart, gritting his teeth as he kept slashing.
Damn it all!
That was Flying Tiger's assessment after batting away all five stars.
His entire body ached and tingled, and the chilling, sticky energy of the Black Rock Scripture lingered, coursing through him without fading. It felt like his vitality was being sucked away drop by drop.
Staggering unsteadily, Flying Tiger faltered. The two warriors, pale as they retreated, saw their chance and charged like mad.
Crackle.
In that instant, a bolt of blue lightning erupted from Flying Tiger's dantian.
This was the same energy he'd used the day before at the entrance to Uga Mountain Village, when he'd struck down the Sama Family warriors.
It was such a wild, uncontrollable power with severe backlash, but right now, he had no luxury to be picky.
The lightning qi surged through his limbs in a flash, incinerating the peculiar energy of the Black Rock Scripture.
Yet it rampaged uncontrollably even after.
Flying Tiger convulsed in agony as his crown acupoint—the Baihui—burned like fire. His eyes flickered with a fierce blue glow.
And then Flying Tiger moved.
Slash—
In the next moment, he'd slipped between the charging warriors and stood behind them.
The fading afterimages of his blade, the sound of space itself being rent apart, and spurts of crimson blood told the tale of the sword dance that had unfolded in that instant.
It was swordsmanship at its peak—quicker than thought!
The warriors who'd passed him staggered another seven or eight steps before collapsing one by one, already dead.
Thud. Thud.
The price of unleashing that lightning left Flying Tiger's heart numb, his inner energy flow disrupted temporarily. He was in a disarmed state, barely able to take a single step. That was one reason he couldn't use this power recklessly.
For instance, if someone hurled a hidden weapon at him in a moment like this, he'd be defenseless.
And that's exactly what Seotakjin did.
Startled by his lightning-fast slashes, she quickly sensed something off in his movements and prepared to test him with a dagger toss. Depending on his reaction, she'd follow up with her decisive move.
But this was like the mantis stalking the cicada, unaware of the sparrow behind it.
At that moment, Ma Yeop slithered silently behind Seotakjin, flicking his wrist to slash downward in a low diagonal arc.
The motion was like a cobra rearing up and striking its prey—lightning quick.
Swish.
Seotakjin, caught completely off guard, leaped away in terror, but the skin of her left calf split open as she tumbled across the floor.
If not for the Black Rock Scripture toughening her skin to leather-like resilience, her leg would've been severed below the knee.
Crash!
Even as she rolled, Seotakjin hurled the dagger in her hand at Ma Yeop.
She sprang up, only for her left knee to buckle involuntarily as excruciating pain hit. Blood poured from the gash like a faucet.
Like all hidden weapon masters, she was adept in lightness skill, but now her mobility was crippled.
Ma Yeop calmly twisted his body, swinging his sword to deflect the incoming dagger.
Clang~ The dagger spun harmlessly away.
This wasn't just because Seotakjin couldn't bring her full skill to bear—it was largely because Ma Yeop didn't underestimate her.
Step by step.
Frowning at the approaching one-eyed man, Seotakjin demanded,
"Who the hell are you people?"
"Heh heh heh, what does it matter if you know? Just die, you bitch!"
Ma Yeop spat mockingly, his single eye blazing with murderous intent.
Why the hell would he waste time chatting?
He planned to shut her up, gut her, rip out her liver, and chew it raw to vent his rage.
As Seotakjin seemed to realize something and opened her mouth in surprise, he charged, swinging his sword.
She had no choice but to clamp her mouth shut.
And draw her pair of Mandarin Duck Axes.* All while dragging her injured leg.
*Mandarin Duck Axes: These close-range weapons were easy to carry and highly lethal. A pair called 'Yang' and 'Yin' were used together. Shaped like overlapping crescent blades, they had four prongs and nine edges total—hence dubbed four-tipped nine-bladed exotic weapons. Depending on usage, they could also serve as thrown projectiles.
Whew—
Catching his breath, Flying Tiger exhaled deeply and pushed qi from his dantian throughout his body.
The plan had succeeded.
The rewards matched the risks; now, Ja-Ya Chariot Seotakjin was the only enemy left. Even she had lost her 'chariot' and 'wrapping' advantages in the long game.
Thus, Ma Yeop held the edge from the start, methodically pressing Seotakjin without allowing any variables, steadily ramping up the pressure.
He intended to squeeze her dry.
Flying Tiger steadied himself and sauntered around the edges of their duel. His sword dragged low, its tip screeching across the stone floor.
Obviously, it was meant to grate on Seotakjin's already rattled nerves.
And if an opening appeared, he'd thrust in for the kill.
'No need to help—Brother Ma Yeop will take her down in a hundred exchanges or less. Still, that witch's mental fortitude is no joke. Her eyes aren't wavering even under this pressure. She's not panicking either. Is she waiting for a reversal? In that situation, a reversal would mean…!'
'Son of a bitch.' The curse nearly escaped aloud.
Thump thump.
Flying Tiger's heart raced, but he suppressed it, keeping his steps and demeanor steady to avoid tipping her off that he'd noticed.
Noticed what?
At the start, Flying Tiger had sensed ten enemies. He'd accounted for eight so far, with Seotakjin fighting Ma Yeop.
That left one unaccounted for.
Thinking back, that missing presence had vanished right when Seotakjin's aura had slipped in.
He'd overlooked it at the time.
Sensing presences with qi perception relies on intuition and judgment, not pinpoint coordinates. A margin of error for one or two was possible.
Besides, Flying Tiger's focus had been solely on Ja-Ya Chariot Seotakjin.
That was why.
But now, suspecting she might have an ace up her sleeve, the discrepancy—one short of the initial count—nagged at him.
Perhaps…
Perhaps this was symmetric to how Seotakjin had fixated on him, oblivious to Ma Yeop.
If so, the lurking enemy was at least Seotakjin's equal—or superior.
Assuming such a foe was hidden nearby, waiting for an opening.
Under those premises, Flying Tiger had subtly extended his qi sense to probe.
And found it.
Thus, the assumption was real.
A crisis.
But what was this bastard's identity?
'No way those devilish scum made a new friend here perfectly matched to their level… Is it someone the Eight Phantoms deliberately raised in secret? Or another survivor from the Eight Phantoms?'
He had no idea, but whatever it was, it spelled trouble.
Especially since the Face Pursuit Squad's watchers had scoured the area for half a month yet missed this powerhouse. That stuck in his craw.
Flying Tiger approached the fierce clash with feigned nonchalance, inwardly frantic with calculations.
With the unknown foe liable to strike anyone at any moment, he needed to decide now.
Right now!
For some odd reason, he suddenly wondered about his comrades' situations. Facing a do-or-die strike with his life on the line, every stray thought bubbled up.
'Judging the other Eight Phantoms by Ja-Ya Chariot Seotakjin's skill, the leader's side should be wrapped up somehow… but what about the deputy leader's (referring to Choi Ong)?'
With that stray thought, Flying Tiger sent Ma Yeop a few words via transmission, then bellowed before he could even flinch.
"Kill!"
Flying Tiger launched himself at Ja-Ya Chariot Seotakjin.
Throwing down his decisive gambit.
So, what about the deputy leader's side?
Near the main gate of the Shadow Moon Sect, a dozen corpses littered the ground.
Inside the compound, only three figures remained, locked in a brutal melee.
But the scales were tipping. Ung Ya Cha Sanggokbi swung his twin iron maces with ferocious momentum, while Iron Arm Ye Dok-du and Invisible Hand Choi Ong—ganging up on him—sweated profusely, faces twisted like they'd eaten shit.
The balance hadn't collapsed yet thanks to their long partnership; their coordination was seamless. But reversal seemed hopeless. It wasn't a gap in raw skill, but their synergy was disastrously poor.
So now, they were in endurance mode.
Until when?
Till comrades arrived to save them, or they collapsed from exhaustion.
Anyway.
Myriad Transformations Sword Hwa Yeong lay crumpled in a corner, tongue lolling long and dead. He still clutched his broken longsword, crimson fluid oozing intermittently from his seven orifices.
And the tears dried on his cheeks had gone cold.
The price of overextending from the outset.
Or perhaps the merciless nature of the jianghu, where blood must flow for the fight to end.
"Kuh huh huh huh."
A blood ghost, its entire body dyed crimson, rolled its eyes grotesquely, emitting a laugh—or groan?—that chilled the soul.
Freshly emerged from a blood bath like some infernal demon, it was the stuff of nightmares…
Yet Jin Ga-yong faced it without a flicker of fear or surprise. After all, the one disguised as a blood ghost was Squad Leader Nima Pengjo, and he'd been the one to create him.
Jin Ga-yong was unscathed, merely emanating a faint heat from his body.
To put it simply, he'd broken a light sweat warming up—like a well-stoked forge.