Deciding the Path (4)
Screeeech. Every time the spear shaft whipped through the air, it produced a variety of sounds. Boom! Crash! Dozens of warriors charged toward the center, but none could cross the trajectory of the spear—they scattered and collapsed like leaves in the wind.
"Young Master! Stop this! Do you not know this is the inner quarters?!"
He knew. He had broken the rules and crossed the forbidden path. He had attacked the inner quarters to rescue criminals still under investigation. No matter that he was the young master—no one could defy the authority of the matriarch.
But whatever. Let it be. Rules? In the past and now, they were made by those in power. For themselves... Those rules had never once sided with the weak.
Well, maybe it was twisted thinking. But that's how his life had been. And he couldn't turn a blind eye to innocent people suffering because of those damn rules.
Someone had to stand with them! He'd smash those damn rules himself.
"Hah!"
His unwavering resolve seeped into the spear shaft, making its trajectory even more unpredictable as it swirled like a storm.
"Whoa, a vortex..."
Jang Pyeong muttered unconsciously as he watched Jin Yeo-rip's fight. Vortex—swirling waters. No words fit the spear art he displayed better.
Jin Yeo-rip's spear sucked everything in or repelled it all away. Before they knew it, the inner quarters' warriors were routed, and the spear shaft was heading straight for him.
"Tch!"
An unavoidable fight. And he had to block it. Even if the young master was stronger than expected, wasn't he the head guard of the inner quarters?
Grip! Jang Pyeong drew the sword from his waist and charged at Jin Yeo-rip. Sheath and all. Breaking the rules was one thing, but he couldn't raise a blade against Cheongeumbang's young master.
"Young Master! You'll regret this!"
Jang Pyeong swung the sheathed sword with both hands, putting all his strength into the downward strike.
Jin Yeo-rip, having shoved aside the charging warriors, looked up at Jang Pyeong slicing vertically downward. Straight Blade Severance—a technique that could split a boulder, immense pressure bearing down.
He was going all out to fell him in one blow. Regret? He'd throw those words right back!
As the attack flew in, Jin Yeo-rip twisted the spear shaft slightly. The spear tip gouged the ground, and the resulting airflow coiled around the shaft, rising to his fingertips.
"Hoo."
A light breath escaped Jin Yeo-rip's lips, a smile forming. The bastard who whipped So Hye. That was his only feeling toward Jang Pyeong.
"Hah!"
Jin Yeo-rip gripped the end of the spear shaft with both hands and swung it upward like yanking out a tree root.
Kraaack!
The forceful pull bent the spear shaft like a bowstring. Dust billowed thickly along the diagonal arc.
Eat this!
Twelve Flows, River Utilization.
Boooom!
The clash of sword and spear unleashed the pent-up internal energy in a shockwave that rippled outward.
"Urk!"
Jang Pyeong's face twisted as the immense force knocked his sword flying. What kind of power was this? But before his eyes, fragments of the spear shaft shattered and scattered.
The shaft had snapped from the excessive force. Then with bare hands...
As Jang Pyeong hastily regained his stance for a counterattack, a chill touched the back of his neck. Goosebumps erupted. It felt like a massive tiger had him from behind in the mountains.
N-No way?
But before the doubt cleared, piercing blue eyes turned toward his exposed side. A tightly clenched fist...
"Ah, fuck."
In that moment, he cursed without thinking. Jin Yeo-rip's fist was flying toward his open flank.
Splat!
"Gahk!"
The fist burrowed in, his organs feeling shoved to the other side. Counter? Impossible. His body crumpled, feet lifting off the ground. Breath caught, strength drained from his limbs, he dangled limply.
From a single punch. Jin Yeo-rip had been beyond his level from the start.
"Y-Young... Master... I yield..."
Jang Pyeong mustered his fading mind amid the pain, forcing out the words on ragged breaths.
But then—
Thwack!
"...?!"
A straight hand grabbed his airborne hair. And a fist appeared. Huh? What are you—
In that instant, his puzzled eyes caught Jin Yeo-rip grinning.
Ah... He realized.
Crack!
The whipping fist smashed into Jang Pyeong's face. His head snapped around, but he stayed in place—Jin Yeo-rip held his hair firmly.
"Who said you could yield?"
Splat!
Another fist landed. Gripping the hair to prevent escape, he rained down punches relentlessly. Nose bone shattered, broken teeth tore his mouth, blood spraying—but the fists didn't stop.
Thud! Crack! Thud! Thud!
Like a blacksmith hammering iron, he pounded Jang Pyeong mercilessly. The warriors watched in stunned horror.
Any will to fight was broken. Wasn't this Jang Pyeong, the inner quarters' chief guard, second only to Bi Hwang in Cheongeumbang? And he was helplessly beaten by the seventeen-year-old young master.
What could they do? Their encirclement was a torn net; they just stared blankly.
Each punch echoed cruelly, making their bodies flinch. It felt like they were taking the hits.
"S-Spare... me... (Please... mercy...)"
As the limp, bloodied Jang Pyeong—hair gripped—mumbled faintly, the fists stopped.
"Huff... huff..."
If the attacker was winded, imagine the victim.
"S-Spare..."
Even words were garbled. All his teeth were gone.
No pity—just rage at not beating him more. This Twelve Flows stirred savagery, they said.
Feels... good.
"You bastard, you whipped So Hye?"
"Ugh..."
"Right, on second thought, I shouldn't vent on you. I'll leave your punishment to So Hye."
Jin Yeo-rip dragged the twitching Jang Pyeong by the hair toward the rear garden. The sight of hauling a bloodied man across the ground was shocking—no warrior dared block him.
Those ahead in the garden flinched and parted, letting Jin Yeo-rip approach.
By the time Jin Ha-seong arrived at the inner quarters' entrance with his meeting companions—alerted late by Taewon guards—the chaos was evident.
"Th-This..."
Smashed doors, fallen warriors. Total mayhem.
His mind went blank. Yeo-rip...
No. If word of this spread, it would incense countless merchant groups under Cheongeumbang. Even if Yang Sojin was first at fault, this was improper.
Family matters, friends from the outer market—no matter the anger, procedures existed.
So Hye and Hwang Ja-su, arrested, hadn't resisted. He knew their skills well. They could overpower inner guards, but held back for his son.
He should have questioned it properly. If they'd come to him for help...
Why had his usually cool-headed son done this? Beyond rumors, provoking Yang Sojin like this risked drawing in Saihai Money House's lord, Geuman Yang Taek.
This was a vicious plot. Yang Sojin—no, Geuman—had orchestrated it. To saddle Yeo-rip and interfere in Cheongeumbang. Timed for their return.
The elders knew. That's why Yang Sojin didn't greet them, and elders dragged him to Da Geumgak for an "urgent" meeting upon arrival.
Pointless talk to stall. While pinned down, Yeo-rip acted.
They were always under Yang Sojin's shadow. Side branches... subdued somehow.
Damn it, he shouldn't have sent Yeo-rip to Unjeong Pavilion. The tiny mistake stabbed deep, heart aching.
Grind.
"You bastards!"
He wanted to lop off heads right then.
"Family head!"
"..."
"The inner situation first. We must stop the young master now."
Wang Seok urged the grim-faced Jin Ha-seong.
"Mm."
True. Prioritize stopping his son over raging at elders. Prevent irreparable damage.
"Wang Seok!"
"I'll go ahead."
"Stop him at all costs! He must not lay a hand on Sojin!"
"Yes!"
Wang Seok dashed in as he replied. Jin Ha-seong strode coldly toward the inner quarters.
"You lot—I won't let this slide. Prepare yourselves!"
The atmosphere was icy. Jin Yeo-rip, gripping the unconscious Jang Pyeong's hair, entered the rear garden where criminals were being punished. He halted, slowly taking in the scene.
First, outer market merchants bound in ropes, kneeling with heads bowed. Exhausted. Crusted blood everywhere—his chest tightened, cold fury rising.
His gaze locked on one spot.
"Y-Young Master!"
"Young Master!"
So Hye and Hwang Ja-su, kneeling identically, stared wide-eyed at Jin Yeo-rip. Shocked. At his appearance—like he'd stormed a battlefield. And the bloodied warrior in his hand.
"No! Absolutely not!"
Her jade-like voice was hoarse. So Hye screamed desperately.
Why, how?! Why come to the inner quarters? Why look like he'd fought through hell? Where was Im Pilsaeng, who should be by his side, stopping him?
The sky was falling. This was an obvious trap. Jin Yeo-rip must know. He should judge coldly, wisely.
But why... They'd endured to avoid staining his future with violence.
"So Hye."
"Young Master..."
Jin Yeo-rip smiled at her—like reading her heart and replying.
"I know. But I came anyway."
"Young Master... How..."
"Sorry. I know I shouldn't, but my heart wouldn't let me."
"..."
"I did it anyway."
"But, but!"
"I know. I'll bear responsibility for my choice. No regrets. This is the path I chose. Even if exiled, even if I gain nothing—I'll walk the path I believe right."
His grinning face choked her up. What could they say? He knew they'd survive.
So Hye gritted her teeth, face twisting. Beside her, Hwang Ja-su watched silently, then chuckled.
"Well, if the master says so."
"Physician!"
"Enough, So Hye."
"..."
"We just follow the master's decision. Damn, we endured for nothing."
Hwang Ja-su smiled, tensing. A strange aura rose, rotting the binding ropes like decay. Snap.
Hard to believe they'd just been punished. Jin Yeo-rip smirked. He'd guessed his skill. Odd when arrested.
He hadn't shown it, but living together, he'd sensed it subtly. Once ignorant, he saw him as mere physician; as his realm rose, details shifted. Just hidden well.
Hwang Ja-su was an Ak family retainer. He'd guarded fleeing Ak Seoyeonn to the end—his power no ordinary.
Would a warrior clan's physician train only medicine? He'd held back. For him.
"Hah, damn. Really can't stand it. This voids enduring the whipping."
So Hye sighed, tensing. Rip.
As expected. Unjeong Pavilion's top servant no ordinary maid.
Jin Yeo-rip grinned at them, then turned to Yang Sojin seated like a judge, overlooking the garden.
What reward to give? His stepmother had returned from a long trip bearing such a fine gift.