Chapter 96
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 96
Chapter Title: Chapter 96
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 96
Chapter Title: 27. Spoils of War (2)
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The first slash landed true.
The second and third were shallow, and the fourth was blocked.
At that, Flying Tiger immediately drove his shoulder into White Horse Lantern's chest, shoving him back before charging in relentlessly once more.
White Horse Lantern staggered on one leg, swinging the Overstepping Forbidden Path Blade awkwardly with his left hand.
But by now, his injuries were so severe that even if left alone, he seemed likely to drop dead any moment. And yet, he somehow managed to deflect and parry the lethal blows, clinging to life with desperate tenacity.
It was proof of his fierce attachment to survival.
'That's what makes him a true master.'
Flying Tiger thought as much but didn't grow impatient. He methodically whittled down White Horse Lantern, and after a dozen exchanges, he seized the decisive opening.
Shwick.
As Flying Tiger sidestepped and unleashed a lightning-fast wrist strike, White Horse Lantern's fingers were severed one after another, and the Overstepping Forbidden Path Blade clattered from his grasp.
Clang.
And just as Flying Tiger moved to finish White Horse Lantern off...
"Krah!"
A thunderous shout rang out as someone leaped into the hall, swinging a massive cleaver at Flying Tiger.
Whoosh~
It had the momentum to split a mountain.
Flying Tiger didn't dare clash head-on and leaped back instead.
Looking closer, it was Dorung, the third boss of the Yellow Locust Gang, known as the "Mad Bear."
His frame was so enormous that even Ye Dok-du looked dainty by comparison—like a bear in human form.
And right now, he was a thoroughly enraged bear.
Flying Tiger edged backward under the overwhelming pressure, while Dorung glared ferociously at him, snarling.
"You dog bastards! I'll grind you all into..."
As he retreated, Flying Tiger cut Dorung off and lunged forward.
Dorung scoffed and swung his cleaver, but Flying Tiger's pinpoint thrust was impossibly fast!
Dorung shifted half a step diagonally and hastily pulled his cleaver back to block.
Clang~
Flying Tiger's blade tip struck the broad, thick face of Dorung's cleaver. Still unsatisfied, he trembled with force to push forward, and at that moment, a bluish flash flickered in Flying Tiger's eyes.
Screeech. Creak.
Dorung was helplessly shoved back two or three more steps.
Flying Tiger followed in a single stride, unleashing Eight Directions Wind and Rain with eight swirling slashes.
Clang. Clang. Clang...
Then Flying Tiger leaped back again, while Dorung, hunkered down tensely, couldn't pursue right away and stared at him in shock.
He had nearly suffered for underestimating his foe.
This bastard...
Dorung ignited his battle spirit, flashing a chilling smile.
"Interesting."
"Was it? Glad you enjoyed it. Anyway, I've got business—gotta run."
"...?"
Flying Tiger turned tail and bolted, leaving Dorung stunned for a moment before he bellowed and gave chase.
But Dorung hadn't taken more than a few steps before halting abruptly. A new figure had appeared in the direction Flying Tiger fled.
It was Blazing Sword Jin Ga-yong.
He had rushed over at the sound of Flying Tiger's fight and smoothly took over the engagement.
Dorung glared distastefully at the approaching Jin Ga-yong and sneered.
"You filthy scum, not content with thug tactics—now you're switching out like it's a tag-team match?"
"Thug tactics..."
Jin Ga-yong sighed as he picked up the words, offering sincere advice.
"Can't argue there. We regret that incident. But focus now. This Jin's sword won't go easy on you."
"..."
Dorung and Jin Ga-yong's gazes locked in midair. After a brief standoff, they charged at each other.
And clashed.
'Jin Ga-yong can handle it, right? Hmm, should I circle back and double-team? Nah, he'd throw a fit about honor and all that crap.'
Flying Tiger shook his head.
Nope, no way.
'First, track down that fleeing White Horse Lantern and finish him off, then gauge the situation. Pride doesn't fill your belly anyway. Damn timing for the sword to crap out... Tsk.'
Flying Tiger clicked his tongue in regret and examined the blade in his hand. Fine cracks spiderwebbed across it.
On the verge of shattering.
He had hammered Dorung's cleaver enthusiastically until it started giving out, so he pulled back instead of pressing the attack.
If only the sword had held...
Then it hit him—maybe the issue started earlier, when clashing with White Horse Lantern's blade.
It was no ordinary weapon.
The blade was as thin and sharp as a cicada's wing, yet incredibly sturdy. Even Flying Tiger, on the offensive, had felt his hands go numb from the impacts.
That was part of why he hadn't finished off the already crippled White Horse Lantern in one go.
Wait—right before the end, White Horse Lantern dropped that amazing sword!
Flying Tiger's eyes gleamed as he quickened his pace. Now there was one more thing to collect besides White Horse Lantern's head.
....
The Triad Hall was vast, rivaling several palace buildings combined. Now, the interior was a wreck from the earlier explosion—scorched and cratered everywhere, littered with debris.
Moreover, the two upheavals had kicked up layers of accumulated dust, clouding visibility like thick fog. Just moments ago, taking ten steps forward would reveal a fresh wall of haze.
But now the dust was settling, and objects' outlines were emerging.
So Flying Tiger figured he'd easily spot the crawling White Horse Lantern. Instead, he stumbled upon someone else first.
Or rather, he was the one spotted.
"Die, you thug!"
From behind the innermost statues of the three kings in the Triad Hall, "Greedy Worm" Pung Baedok burst out, hacking wildly with his sword.
Not forgetting to hurl "thug" as an opener, of course.
Pung Baedok had endured endless abuse from Flying Tiger on his way from the entrance to here in that short time, nursing deep resentment as a result.
His slashes were venomously vicious.
Flying Tiger dropped low and rolled aside to evade.
Pung Baedok stomped the floor with his left foot, pivoting, and hurled himself at Flying Tiger.
Whether he was the type who heated up mid-fight or had planned it from the start, his attacks now brimmed with ferocity—utterly savage.
Flying Tiger rolled, sprang up, deflected Pung Baedok's incoming slash once, and backpedaled while swinging his own blade.
He judged it impossible to meet the charging momentum head-on, so he aimed to bleed off the enemy's speed.
'Perfect!'
Pung Baedok's eyes flashed as he unleashed his signature Thirty-Three Hands Combined Box Blade, pursuing relentlessly. Flying Tiger countered with Sixty-Four Roads Wind Wheel and retreated.
In the flurry of high-speed exchanges, blade winds raged, sparks flew and scattered.
Ching~ Clang, clang, clang...
Dozens of clashes later.
Flying Tiger's sword shattered with a crash. Already cracked, it couldn't withstand the mounting shocks.
Curiously, it fragmented into numerous small pieces.
At that instant, as Flying Tiger leaped back, Pung Baedok saw his chance and shifted to a thrust.
In that moment.
The shards of Flying Tiger's broken sword swirled in harmony.
Like riding a whirlwind, they engulfed Pung Baedok's entire body!
Slash—
Blood sprayed from Pung Baedok in all directions, like threads of fine silk unraveling.
The impact made Pung Baedok stagger.
Seizing the gap, Flying Tiger lunged.
He tossed the shattered sword, drew Ma Yeop's blade "Azure Stream" from his back, and propelled himself forward.
And cleaved!
Schwick.
Azure Stream, drawn from behind, arced widely and bisected Pung Baedok, who was flung a zhang away before splitting apart.
....
"Nice."
Flying Tiger muttered, flicking his wrist.
Azure Stream, tasting blood for the first time, spun once in the air, scattering droplets, before he sheathed it back on his back.
Click.
Then Flying Tiger walked over to Pung Baedok's sprawled corpse.
The technique that subdued Pung Baedok was a secret art called Shattering Turn.
True to its name, it involved shattering one's own sword and whirling the fragments like a vortex—a deadly assassination move.
Its strength lay in surprise.
Not just exploding at knife-fight range, but especially because no one expects you to discard your primary weapon mid-attack. Most would relax the instant the opponent's blade breaks, cheering "victory!"
And Pung Baedok fell right into that trap.
On the flip side, the drawbacks were having to sacrifice your main weapon, the tricky preparation, and the massive drain on internal energy.
Conveniently, Flying Tiger's sword was already cracked from the fierce battles, which was why he clung to it instead of discarding it early.
And as he said, it worked out great in several ways.
First, his physical condition—specifically, his internal energy control.
Before, it would have sucked out huge chunks of qi, causing it to boil over painfully, with the risk of backlash to boot.
But now, even after violently expending energy, he only felt a bit dizzy—quite stable overall.
What had changed?
It was thanks to the Nine Breaths Unifying Blade Ma Yeop had taught him.
He hadn't mastered it deeply yet, given the short practice time. But it realigned his movements, breathing, and their unification. With his forms correcting, the risks after big techniques dropped sharply.
Second, Ma Yeop's sword Azure Stream was excellent.
He had familiarized himself sporadically, but this was its combat debut. The results were beyond satisfying—the handfeel was exquisite.
He had never been picky about weapons before—a habit from his assassin days.
Weapons were mere tools for the kill; obsessing over them could stifle creative work(?).
So Flying Tiger carried only the portable rope dart, prepping other tools as needed.
But recent clashes with masters made every point of power precious, and trying Azure Stream today only amplified that.
He loved its cool, elegant vibe.
Still, it belonged to its owner, so he planned to use it sparingly and return it after Ma Yeop's revenge.
'Which makes me want one of my own—and wouldn't you know, a prime candidate just dropped.'
And third—tying into the second—was the item right before his eyes.
White Horse Lantern's sword was stabbed into dead Pung Baedok's waist.
It had been over there earlier—how'd it end up here?
Speculating, Pung Baedok came with Dorung toward Flying Tiger; while Dorung fought, he might have grabbed White Horse Lantern and snagged his treasured blade too.
If not, oh well.
"Thanks anyway. For holding onto it like this."
Flying Tiger swiftly claimed White Horse Lantern's sword. Drawing it from the sheath, the blade emerged with a soft glow and a pleasing ring.
Shing.
At the base of the broad blade were engraved the three characters: "Overstepping Forbidden Path."
Daring to cross the "forbidden path"—just like a thief's mindset!
Flying Tiger grinned, utterly delighted. For his free-spirited nature, the inscription felt refreshingly bold and meaningful.
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