Grow, Cloud Star Heart Method

A round, peculiar restorative pill emerged from Dang Yeohye's fingertips.

Moyong Hwi accepted the thing she thrust at him with a look of pure reluctance and swallowed it in one gulp.

"No matter how I think about it, it's a waste giving that to him."

"You never know. The more fighting power we have, the better, noona."

He was an eyesore from my perspective too, but we were standing in the middle of a battlefield. This was the moment for practical judgment.

And hadn't I promised someone I'd bring him back alive no matter what?

"Ahem."

Sensing the lukewarm reception from the two of us, Moyong Hwi cleared his throat and opened his mouth.

"I shall repay the cost of that restorative fivefold through my clan in due course. Young Lady Dang Yeohy—"

"Tsk."

"…Lady Yeo."

Just for receiving one pill, he'd tried to get familiar—and gotten cut off cold. That was Moyong Hwi for you.

If he wanted to get close to her, he'd have to cross the line between life and death with her three or four times the way I had.

Ah, of course, given how thoroughly he'd gotten on her bad side, even that looked like a long shot.

"And you as well…"

After Dang Yeohye, Moyong Hwi sneaked a glance my way and started to speak.

"And me as well?"

He was hemming and hawing like he had no idea how to get the words out—completely at odds with the way he usually blurted out every rude thing that crossed his mind.

"…Thank you. Ahem."

Having said that much, Moyong Hwi whipped his head around and avoided my eyes.

All the friction between us until now must have made the words stick hard in his throat.

"Honestly."

I swallowed the snort of laughter that tried to slip out.

To think I'd ever see this guy like that.

And deep in my chest, I felt a strange sensation stirring.

DISSATISFACTION!

The divine energy of the Cloud Star Heart Method swelled thick and full in my chest, while the Heavenly Killing Star burned and screamed as if it were being torched alive.

I'd never seen the thing throw that kind of full-body tantrum before.

I'd weakened it this much—my lifespan should be safe for a while yet.

I was nodding to myself in quiet relief when a massive explosion roared from far in the distance.

KWA-AAAAANG—!

It was an ear-splitting blast. Everyone flinched and turned toward the main fortress, the direction the sound had come from.

KWA-RUUUNG!

The aftershock of the explosion traveled up through the ground and into both of our feet.

"Whoa… looks like a Great Thunderbolt Bomb just went off."

Ilhong guessed the type of explosive, gulped hard, and spoke in a low voice.

One whole wing of a pavilion had collapsed in a cascading ruin of timber and tile.

"Haa… I guess I shouldn't go near the Black Market for a while."

No matter how indifferent the Imperial Court usually was to Murim affairs, once something blew up this spectacularly they'd send local officials to investigate, she said.

She scratched her temple with a troubled look.

"Those vile Blood Cult bastards… they must have ground their teeth for thirty years preparing for this day."

Moyong Hwi, who had clearly heard plenty about them from his father, was also staring at the explosion with his teeth clenched.

"Noona Dang Yeohye."

"Huh? What."

"Earlier—you said Jo Harang went which way?"

"We split in opposite directions, so she probably headed for the main fortress…"

KWA-AANG—!

Right then another explosion flashed from the direction of the main fortress.

Thick flames and smoke billowed without pause in the distance.

Even a master wouldn't have a body left if something like that went off nearby.

It wasn't even a physical blade you could parry—how were you supposed to block an explosion and shockwave that swallowed your entire body?

"Damn it. Of all times."

Even the Purple Micro Star could die a hollow death.

The second that thought hit me, worry surged up hard and sudden.

@#@#!

The moment I decided to go save the Purple Micro Star, the Heavenly Killing Star threw a red-energy tantrum like I was completely out of my mind.

But what was I supposed to do about it? We were already friends.

And I had zero obligation to consider that thing's feelings.

"Noona, let's go save her."

I pointed toward the main fortress—the absolute heart of the blast zone, if this were a battlefield—and said so.

Dang Yeohye gave me a sidelong glance with eyes that had gone just a little sharp.

"You're really looking out for that Jo Harang girl, huh?"

Honestly. Making a thing out of something like that.

"If it were you over there, noona, I would've said let's go save you too."

I answered in a calm voice without changing my expression once.

We'd crossed the line between life and death together more than a few times, hadn't we? The only people I treated with pure, ruthless self-interest were complete strangers whose faces I didn't even know.

"Huh? Hmm. Is that so."

Apparently she'd thought I only called her noona to humor her. My answer must have caught her off guard—she scratched her cheek with an awkward look.

"So that was it…"

She didn't look particularly put out.

If anything, the corners of her mouth had curled up just a little.

"From now on I won't put poison in your food."

"Please, for the love of everything, don't."

The way she said it like she was doing me some huge favor was absurd.

Truly the most twisted expression of concern imaginable. No wonder people gave her a wide berth.

"Young master."

"Boss…"

But Neungsam and Ilhong, who had been eavesdropping on our conversation from the side, were sending me strange looks.

Even Moyong Hwi was staring like he couldn't figure out what kind of atmosphere this was supposed to be.

"Let's just get moving already."

What on earth was everyone thinking?

I hurried my steps toward the main fortress, where Jo Harang would be waiting.

Scattered flames leapt up on every side, and the air was thick with acrid soot.

In the middle of that explosion-ravaged hellscape, a single woman was swinging a massive greatsaber.

"Kraaagh!"

Blood Cultists who had charged in trusting only their numbers screamed as they were swept aside by a brutal saber art that smashed every weapon that came at her.

The wet, rending sounds of flesh parting and bone crushing filled the battlefield. Between the choking smoke, bright red blood sprayed without end.

Even as the Blood Cult forces poured in like a flood, the Minor Tiger Blade Jo Harang refused to yield a single step.

"I'm fine now… so get yourself clear. At this rate we'll both die."

Behind her, the middle-aged man catching his breath—Moyong Cheon—muttered as he watched the enemies closing in, as if to say enough was enough.

But she shook her head left and right with absolute firmness.

"I will not hear of it! You would have me cast a great hero to those beasts just to preserve my own life?!"

Blue fighting light flared in both of Jo Harang's eyes as she threw herself even harder against the enemy.

Before, he had thought of her only as an obstacle to his second son's championship—but looking at her now, she was a woman packed solid with a sense of righteous chivalry.

"Thunder Sword! The Blood Cult's sworn enemy, the Thunder Sword, is hiding behind that girl!"

"Kill him by any means necessary!"

"Avenge the Cult Lord! Wash our grudge clean with his blood!"

Blood Cultists howled for the completion of their great work, blood risen all the way to the tops of their heads.

It was like watching a pack of fanatics.

"These vermin…"

He had approached the main fortress because of the commotion nearby—and been ambushed by their pack out of nowhere.

Thunderbolt bombs, poison bombs, and foul demonic arts without pause, all while they closed a wheel formation around him—those Blood Cult bastards.

At first he had poured out blue sword-aura and somehow held them off, but then they tightened the encirclement with no regard for their own lives, shrinking his room to move, and finally committed the unbelievable act of a Great Thunderbolt Bomb.

A mutual-destruction strike that willingly sacrificed dozens of their own cultists crowded around him just to take him down.

A massive explosion had gone off right beside him, and Moyong Cheon had only barely kept his life by wrapping his entire body in protective qi.

"Back then… instead of competing with the Heavenly Sword, I should have torn out your roots completely."

Blinded by the seat of Murim Alliance Leader and by glory, he had failed to wipe them out to the last man—and that was a bitter blunder.

But what good was regret now? Moyong Cheon steadied his breathing and once again brought his hand to the hilt of his sword.

The middle-aged man used his long beloved blade like a staff and forced himself upright.

His meridians were twisted and his internal injuries so severe that even circulating the clan's divine art produced no sword-aura at all.

Even so—if he was going to die anyway, he would cut down one more of them before he went—Moyong Cheon stepped out in front of the enemy with that resolve.

"Thunder Sword Moyong Cheon! Bold of you to walk out here on your own two feet!"

"We'll take your head and offer it before the Cult Lord's spirit tablet!"

He took his place beside Jo Harang and once more made his blade flash.

The ultimate technique of the Moyong Clan that had butchered the Blood Cult decades ago. The Heaven and Earth Wave Flash Sword shot toward the enemy like a bolt of lightning.

"Dogs of the Blood Cult! I'll slaughter every last one of you just like back then!"

Chwa-wa-waak!

"Ghk!"

"Gurk!"

A single stroke that split the chests of five charging enemies clean open. A swift sword that painted the air with dark red blood poured out in continuous strikes.

Swaek!

The moment fresh blood sprayed before their eyes, one Blood Cultist gathered that blood into a razor edge and swung it like a blade.

But Moyong Cheon tilted his head aside as if long familiar with the trick, and Jo Harang flipped her greatsaber up like a shield and knocked it away.

One Blood Cultist, sword still raised in defense, was split clean through weapon and all and crumpled in a heap.

"What are you all doing?! The Blood Cult's sworn enemy stands right in front of you—!"

When the two of them fighting together made a breakthrough look unlikely, a middle-aged man who seemed to hold high rank among the Blood Cultists shouted.

At that, the Blood Cultists kindled blood-red light in their eyes and once again ramped up their momentum.

"Blood vengeance!"

"The blood debt of that day!"

Hwoong! Seo-geogeok!

Even when three cultists were cut clean in half by her tyrannical saber art, the rest no longer retreated.

Even with necks and arms flying, they closed the encirclement again with total disregard for their lives, shrinking the room to move as if they were happy to offer themselves up.

And behind them, something was moving in a busy, familiar way. Moyong Cheon, who had already lived through this pattern of fighting once, snapped both eyes wide open.

Chiiiiik!

That same massive iron sphere appeared on the battlefield once more.

A fuse was being sucked into the thunderbolt bomb, spitting yellow sparks.

"Young lady! Get clear—!"

Moyong Cheon swung his sword with every last scrap of strength he had left, trying to open an escape path.

But enemies filled every direction—where was there to run? Jo Harang was trapped in the press of enemies, unable to move an inch.

"For the Cult, we burn!"

"Uwooooh!"

And the Blood Cultists, seized by frenzy, braced themselves for a glorious self-destruction. Something seemed to flicker at the edge of vision.

"Thunder Sword! This is how the Blood Cult settles a blood debt!"

The enormous iron ball traced a parabola and flew toward them. Its size made it obvious it was packed with a terrifying amount of black powder.

Moyong Cheon realized there was no escaping it and squeezed both eyes shut.

Teong—!

But the Great Thunderbolt Bomb hit the ground and… did not explode.

The huge mass of metal rolled across the floor with a heavy clatter while everyone stared in shock.

"What…?!"

The middle-aged man who had thrown it blinked in confusion, then belatedly realized that the single most important component of that iron sphere was gone.

"Looking for this, by any chance?"

A young man who had ghosted in like a spirit now stood abruptly behind their lines.

The rather handsome youth was grinning from ear to ear, holding the fuse—the very thing that was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠supposed to carry the spark into the black powder—pinched cleanly between his fingers.

"…You little baastard!"

Peopeopeok!

My Hellish Vengeance Staff crushed flying fists, knocked aside cutting blades, and shattered enemy skulls and chests.

Right now, with every last scrap of the Cloud Star Heart Method's heavy energy poured into it, the staff carried a force that looked ready to split mountains.

"Out of the way, you sons of bitches!"

And Dang Yeohye's advance, trailing a spray of blood wherever she went with claw techniques that tore flesh and ripped it free.

In a wedge formation we smashed into the rear of the enemy lines, thrashing them as we pleased, and drove straight forward.

Once we punched through the enemies thrown into chaos by the sudden support, the scene inside came into view.

"…No. Why are you here?"

Moyong Cheon, recognizing my completely out-of-place face, tossed out a line that sounded suspiciously like something his own son would say.

"I believe that's my line, actually."

I had run over because the air was thick with killing intent and the unique energy of the Purple Micro Star was close by—so why was this man here?

I shook my head hard and checked both of their conditions.

Jo Harang had taken a few minor wounds but still seemed to have strength left. Moyong Cheon looked like something had hit him hard—his once-dignified beard was scorched, and his overall state was very bad.

And even now, Blood Cultists were pouring toward us like they meant to wipe us all out.

"Let's call it even, Clan Lord Moyong Cheon."

"…?"

When I suddenly threw that out, he looked over at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me with a baffled expression.

"That time I called you a greedy old man. Let's consider it wiped clean by the fact that I'm helping you now."

"…Is that what matters right now?"

His face said he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

But of course it mattered. If this man decided to hold a grudge and throw dirt all over the road ahead of my troubleshooter business, a minor martial artist like me wouldn't be able to handle it.

And the original rule of conditions is that you collect them before the work is done—not after.

"Hah. Looking ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at your face, you mean it… Very well. If you help, we'll pretend that never happened."

"Oh, and I also saved your son, you know? You can't just let that slide for free either, right?"

He glanced once at Moyong Hwi's back as the young man fought the Blood Cultists, then nodded.

"You're seriously out of your mind, boss."

Ilhong muttered with a look of pure exhaustion as I finished my deal even in the middle of all this.

"Never mind that. Hand it over."

I told her to produce the thing I had ordered her to grab while we were breaking through the encirclement earlier.

She thumped the huge iron sphere she had been clutching to her chest down onto the ground.

"Black powder and the fuse."

She pulled out two cylindrical hidden weapons, plucked free the fuse that still had black powder on it, and handed it to me.

The other one she kept in her hand, apparently intending to use it as a weapon.

"Oh, for fuck's sake! When did that thing multiply into two?!"

Dang Yeohye, who had been scattering poison needles from her sleeves at the enemy, stared at the scene with a look of pure disbelief.

Chiiiik—!

I lit it with a fire-starter, and the spark once again raced along the fuse and burrowed into the Great Thunderbolt Bomb.

"Your turn, you sons of bitches. Have a taste yourselves."

I put every ounce of my monstrous strength into it and hurled that heavy mass of metal straight into the middle of the charging enemies.

KWA-AAAAANG—!