Chapter 53
Chapter 53
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 53
Chapter Title: No Need for Words
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“Elder.”
After much deliberation, Zhuge Murin slowly opened his mouth.
“Speak.”
“I was unaware that Juhak had targeted Jinmu's dojo. However, Wudang not only slandered the Zhuge Family over this but pinned nonexistent crimes on us as well.”
“Hm...”
Irritation flickered across Yang Sobang's face, but Zhuge Murin could not back down.
It had already been two days since he had mobilized the entire Qinghua Squad to pressure the Daye Merchant Group.
Everyone in Danganggu knew of the friction between them.
If he admitted fault and retreated here?
He would lose the battle of wills.
He might not win, but a draw was essential.
“What say you?”
As Yang Sobang pondered, Jinmu quietly stepped forward.
“Elder.”
“Yes?”
“May I say something?”
“Speak. After all, you seem to be at the center of this entire affair.”
With Yang Sobang's permission, Jinmu bowed his head, a wicked smile curling at his lips.
Yang Sobang's appearance was unexpected, but if he could be useful, Jinmu would exploit him to the fullest.
Jinmu raised his head, his expression confident and dignified as he addressed Yang Sobang first, then everyone present.
“No need for words.”
No need for words.
The unchanging truth that had maintained the murim for ages, regardless of righteous, evil, or demonic paths.
Questions and answers were pointless.
A warrior spoke with fists and established intent with the sword.
At this exquisite moment, Jinmu presented an exquisite solution to resolve the impasse.
The Zhuge branch and Wudang were locked in a tense standoff, neither yielding an inch.
They were both in positions where retreat was impossible.
The justifications they held against each other could no longer be resolved through talk.
As leaders of the orthodox faction, neither could afford to start a war.
In the end, the only way to untie this tightly drawn knot was to cut it.
It was the final method—and the quickest and most effective one.
Yang Sobang silently regarded Jinmu at his words.
He hadn't come solely for the Beggars' Sect.
The information the Beggars' Sect had gathered on Jinmu.
On the surface, there were no issues. In fact, Jinmu's recent actions in Danganggu marked him as a Taoist overflowing with righteousness more than anyone.
But the problem was the connections discovered between him and the people he was pursuing in that process.
The gunpowder smuggling incident in Danganggu not long ago. The collapsed Wuwol Pavilion bearing traces of one of them. Jinmu's footprints were at every scene.
And the martial arts Jinmu had displayed recently.
They matched theirs exactly.
And then...
'Look at this guy. Not only his martial prowess, but he's sly as a fox too.'
His face had clearly shown panic at Yang Sobang's arrival, yet now he was scheming to use him.
His mental acuity was impressive as well.
'Fine, I'll play along for now. There's much I want to ask you.'
Yang Sobang chuckled softly and stepped into the board Jinmu had laid out.
“So, you're saying we stake our pride on a duel?”
“Yes. Let representatives from each side duel, and the loser withdraws cleanly.”
Representative.
Yang Sobang realized Jinmu intended to step up himself. Given his apparent temperament, he wouldn't volunteer for something uncertain.
Moreover, judging by his prowess last night?
'The Zhuge Family will be in quite a bind. But this is all their own doing. My involvement ends here.'
Yang Sobang represented the Justice Alliance.
The conflict between Wudang and Zhuge.
He could take no one's side.
He could only mediate.
“Cunning fellow. Very well. What say you all?”
At Yang Sobang's words, Myeongchung hesitated briefly, while Zhuge Murin smiled triumphantly.
Wudang, which valued face above all, wouldn't send Myeongchung.
Undoubtedly a First Generation Disciple. Likely Jingung barring surprises—and even better if it was Jinmu.
“We shall follow your lead, Elder.”
Yang Sobang turned to Myeongchung at Zhuge Murin's response.
A troubled expression.
Since Jinmu of their own sect had proposed it, they had no choice but to comply, yet their opponent's hand was all too obvious.
“Myeongchung.”
“Ah, forgive me. I as well... shall follow your lead, Elder.”
With Myeongchung and Zhuge Murin in agreement, Yang Sobang nodded.
“Good. No killing blows. Wudang and Zhuge, nominate a warrior to represent your faction.”
As if waiting for those words, Jinmu stepped forward without even seeking Myeongchung's permission.
“As the center of this incident, I shall represent Wudang.”
“Jinmu!”
As expected, Myeongchung cried out in alarm. He had undoubtedly been thinking of Jingung.
“Master.”
“...”
“It's fine.”
Jingung, who had already taken a beating once before, confidently intervened.
And.
A sinister smile crept onto Zhuge Murin's lips.
With the disparity in levels, he wouldn't step up himself. But he would select the supreme expert to ensure victory.
“Qinghua Squad Leader!”
Myeongchung's face twisted at his words.
But Jinmu grinned.
As expected.
His feelings toward them weren't good to begin with.
Mo Ik-sang, I'll make you shit your pants. Diaper included.
Confidence overflowed on Jinmu's face, while worry filled Myeongchung's.
Qinghua Squad Leader Mo Ik-sang.
Though a branch warrior, his name was known throughout Hubei Province.
It had been over a decade since his fame spread from Danganggu to the Central Plains.
Merely the leader of a branch warrior squad, he had made his name by subjugating bandits, culminating in projecting sword qi to behead the bandit's stronghold leader, the Ferocious Dragon Blade, proving his qi-projection mastery.
Despite repeated summons from headquarters, he remained loyal to the Danganggu branch, earning endless praise for his integrity.
A warrior whose skill rivaled even branch leader Zhuge Murin. A qi-projection expert who had achieved it far before Jingung.
Myeongchung knew his prowess rivaled some of Wudang's elders, and his furrowed brow refused to smooth.
“What does that fool think he's doing?”
Myeongchung muttered as Jinmu strode to the cleared central space while others retreated.
“Master.”
“...”
“Don't worry. Jinmu is strong.”
Myeongchung couldn't hide his puzzlement at Jingung's words.
Jingung should know Mo Ik-sang's prowess better than anyone—why this confidence?
“He is Oryeonggung's practical disciple and Wudang's sword.”
What about that assured expression?
“Though he might be a bit different from what you imagine.”
“What?”
Jingung's smiling face now left him flustered.
Preceding it with the title 'Wudang's Sword' turned his fluster to curiosity.
Was there something he didn't know?
Myeongchung gazed at Jinmu's back, harboring a sliver of hope.
“Ha! I never expected Dojang Jinmu to step up. Truly, brash and hot-blooded in your youth.”
“...”
Brash and hot-blooded. An ignorant pup overstepping his bounds. A puppy ignorant of the tiger's ferocity.
Mo Ik-sang's sneering expression conveyed as much.
“Well, what now? With the branch's honor at stake, I can't go easy on a young priest.”
As Mo Ik-sang prattled, Jinmu drew his sword.
And then.
Clang.
Jinmu tossed the blade to the ground and gripped the scabbard.
“You talk too damn much.”
“...?”
“I hope your skills match that flapping mouth.”
Legs spread wide, scabbard slung over his shoulder in a provocative stance.
Not just Mo Ik-sang ahead, but all onlookers couldn't hide their bewilderment at Jinmu's gruff words.
The courteous demeanor from moments ago had vanished.
“Might be a bit different from what you think.”
As Jingung awkwardly smiled and whispered to Myeongchung, Jinmu's unpriestly words continued.
“Bare hands? I'll thank you if you go easy.”
“Ha! Well, now.”
Mo Ik-sang's eyes sharpened, pupils visible as he gripped his wooden sword.
“Doesn't Wudang teach respect for senior warriors?”
“Senior? Respect? That's for those who need it!”
Crack!
His words barely ended when Jinmu's foot tore up the dirt. Even a wooden sword—his opponent had already drawn. No need to wait.
“Hup!”
One step.
In an instant, Jinmu's wicked face closed in.
Caught off guard by the speed, Mo Ik-sang hastily pulled his wooden sword to his chest and thrust it out.
Swoosh!
Though rushed, the ferocious momentum whipped the air into a vortex.
But Jinmu abruptly veered, dropping low and swinging the scabbard at Mo Ik-sang's side.
Thud!
The extended wooden sword clashed with the scabbard, ringing like metal.
Stagger.
Pushed back by force, Mo Ik-sang stumbled away.
Crack!
With no intent to spare or pause, Jinmu stomped the ground, twisting his body at a right angle and lashing the scabbard ferociously.
Whoosh!
'Kuh!'
The twisting scabbard tip wobbled oddly, birthing dozens of afterimages that shredded the air.
Crack, crack-crack!
Defense was all he could manage.
Mo Ik-sang couldn't even unleash his sword arts, only pushed back relentlessly.
And then.
The moment the scabbard touched his wooden sword.
Twist!
A short spin flicked the wooden sword aside, exposing his chest.
'Th-this!'
With the scabbard thrusting straight for his solar plexus, Mo Ik-sang gathered qi into his fist.
Thump!
His swinging fist deflected the scabbard.
But then.
Whirl!
Twisting with the momentum, a leg shot out straight toward his face.
Realizing he couldn't dodge, Mo Ik-sang rolled sideways.
Boom!
The sole slamming empty air produced a thick boom.
Silence.
Jinmu, scabbard over his shoulder, smirked down at him.
“Whoa, surprised? I'm a bit too hot-blooded, huh?”
“...”
Mo Ik-sang, dirt-covered and prone, lifted his head. Jingung clenched his fists in glee, while Yang Sobang smiled knowingly.
And the others?
Gaping mouths refused to close.
Not anyone else—Mo Ik-sang had rolled humiliatingly on the ground before all eyes.
By a mere twenty-something priest.
Grind!
Mo Ik-sang's eyes bulged in rage.
Humiliation. Even without full qi, his superior insight and technique should have prevailed—yet he only defended before tumbling disgracefully.
And Jinmu sneering down at him.
'You bastard! I'll kill you!'
Fury boiling over, Mo Ik-sang clawed the ground from prone, kicking back powerfully.
Crack!
His body shot diagonally like lightning toward Jinmu.
On all fours?
So you're a dog after all.
Then I'll beat you like a dog on a hot summer day.
The smile on Jinmu's face grew even more wicked.