Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Reluctant Descent
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"……."
Eventually, he had no choice but to descend the mountain.
If his master had not embraced him, praising his supposed bravery and encouraging him to return safely with such genuine warmth, Jinmu would have stayed put. If the lingering, damned memories of the original Taoist boy had not dominated his consciousness, he wouldn't have come down even if he had to beat Jinso—the acting decision-maker for the practical affairs meeting—into a bloody pulp.
"Haa."
Jinmu let out a sigh so heavy it felt as though the very ground beneath his feet might cave in. Cheongsang approached him cautiously, sensing the dark clouds hovering over his senior.
"Uncle Master, do you have some deep worries...? Ugh!" Cheongsang retreated instantly, swallowing hard as Jinmu fixed him with a glare that looked ready to devour a soul whole.
Worries? Yes, he had worries.
Jinmu glanced back at the procession trailing behind him: Cheongsang, Cheongu, and five other second-generation disciples handpicked from each palace. They were supposedly the most outstanding talents Wudang had to offer, but in Jinmu’s eyes, they were utterly lacking—just mediocre ducklings excited for a world tour. He felt like a reluctant mother duck leading them to a slaughterhouse.
'Just you wait, Jinhyeo, Jinhye. I will not forget this. When I return, I will snap both of your necks.'
It was all their doing. They had manipulated his worried master and passionately persuaded the Sect Leader and elders to issue the order. Jinhyeo had even cheered him on with an enthusiastic facade, while Jinhye had insisted that, for the sake of Wudang’s pride, Jinmu must resolve the crisis with "minimal personnel."
He knew they were utilizing a classic "borrow a knife to kill" scheme, hoping the water bandits would do the dirty work they couldn't accomplish themselves. Thinking of their betrayal, azure flames practically spewed from Jinmu’s eyes.
"I'll kill them. I'll kill those bastards first," he muttered.
Cheongsang turned pale and backed away even further. "Ch-Cheongu! Uncle Master is in a foul mood. Keep the other disciples in check; you know what happens to anyone who crosses him right now."
Cheongu, whose bones still ached from previous "lessons," nodded frantically. Only those who had experienced Jinmu's wrath knew the true meaning of pain. The group continued toward the Ilhae Merchant Group as if walking on thin ice, barely daring to breathe.
Upon their arrival, they were greeted by Gokuryang, the chief steward of the Ilhae Merchant Group, a man with a friendly, round face. Jinmu, however, was in no mood for pleasantries.
"This way. The Leader and Taoist Jingung are waiting," the steward guided.
"Fine. Whatever," Jinmu snapped. He wanted to resolve this as quickly as possible—smash every water bandit and Zhuge thug in his path—and return to Wudang to settle his scores.
"Alone? You were sent alone?"
"Yes," Jinmu replied flatly.
At his answer, Jingung’s brow furrowed in a deep scowl, and the Ilhae Merchant Group Leader, Gangyu, looked as though his heart had dropped into his stomach.
"Sigh, how are we supposed to handle this? For Wudang to be so indifferent... I trusted the sect, trusted them with everything!" Gangyu’s voice bordered on absolute despair.
Jingung turned his irritation toward Jinmu. "How can it be just you! I wrote clearly that this matter is critical to our survival!"
Jinmu’s blood boiled. He hadn't asked for this mission, and now these fools were acting as if he were the disappointment. Gangyu continued to complain, noting that the group was set to depart the next day and that the Zhuge branch—a powerful rival—was backing their competitors.
"If you are not reassured by my presence alone," Jinmu said, his voice dropping to a dangerous level, "then send all these second-generation disciples to other groups. I will handle the main escort myself."
Jingung sneered. "Not reassured? You are the youngest first-generation disciple. You think you can handle water bandits and the Zhuge family's experts?"
This was the final straw. Jinmu stared straight into Jingung’s eyes, the irritation within him reaching a breaking point. "I said I'll go. Me, and the seven disciples. No changes to the schedule. We depart tomorrow."
Bam! Jingung slammed the table, standing up with his eyes bulging. "You fool! Do you not grasp the impact this will have on Wudang if we fail?"
"I am in charge of this escort," Jinmu replied, unmoved. "I received this mission as Wudang’s 'Sword' and the practical officer of Oryong Palace. If your interference causes issues, I will report it directly to the sect."
Jingung trembled with rage. The term "Wudang’s Sword" carried immense weight; it represented the sect's pride and its martial legacy, which had been considered "broken" ever since the raid by the Evil Hegemony Heaven. To hear a junior who was a mere boy two years ago invoke it so boldly felt like a personal insult.
"Merchant Leader, step out for a moment," Jingung commanded. Gangyu retreated quickly, sensing the terrifying pressure beginning to radiate from the older Taoist.
"Can you take responsibility for those words?" Jingung hissed once they were alone. "Even Master Myeongjin wouldn't claim such a title lightly."
"If I complete this without issue," Jinmu challenged, "what will you do, senior brother? Will you kneel and apologize for insulting me and threatening my master's pride?"
"H-How dare you!" Jingung’s reason finally snapped. He knew the foes they faced were the Danganggu water bandits—not petty thieves, but a massive organization of aquatic combat experts. To him, Jinmu’s arrogance was a death sentence for the group’s reputation.
"You wretch!"
In a burst of uncontrollable fury, Jingung’s palm power surged forward, striking directly toward Jinmu's chest.