Chapter 92
Chapter 92
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 92
Chapter Title: Baek Pyo's Return
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Baek Yeorin, who had been intently watching the figure ascending the stairs, muttered with a flustered expression.
There was no way she wouldn't recognize him. That face was undoubtedly Baek Pyo, who had vanished without a word ten years ago.
Why now? Why are you showing up here?
"What? Brother?"
But her words offered no help in the current situation.
"Ha! Would you look at that? You've gone and blurted out the perfect excuse, haven't you?"
No Yeongchan laughed as if he'd caught her red-handed, his aura surging fiercely.
It was a mistake. A slip of the tongue had given him the perfect pretext for war.
Damn it. She'd endured so much, only for it all to crumble in an instant.
Why did her brother have to show up now, of all times? Not a single letter in all those years...
Resentment welled up within her. How had she survived the past ten years?
"Heh heh, perfect. You lot started this war by walking right into it."
No Yeongchan seized the opportunity without hesitation.
"Everyone!"
His bold shout signaled the start of the battle. Baek Yeorin squeezed her eyes shut.
"Talking like a bunch of kids."
"...?"
Creeeak, creeeak.
A languid voice emerged alongside the groans of the wooden stairs under heavy footsteps.
A strikingly young warrior slowly ascended the stairs that Baek Pyo had taken.
And below him lay the crumpled forms of the entire Tyrant Hall contingent.
What?
For a moment, No Yeongchan forgot what expression to make.
Baek Yeorin and the Baek Manor's leadership were equally stunned.
What was going on here?
Crack!
"This bastard's stirring up trouble for no reason!"
Jinmu, reaching the top floor, smacked the back of Baek Pyo's head with a vicious burst of killing intent.
"Why'd you hit me?!"
"You don't know? I was just gonna buy you a meal, and you pick a fight out of nowhere!"
"Forget it. Get out of the way, benefactor!"
"Keep pushing it, and you'll regret it. Hmph!"
As Jinmu glared and raised his hand, Baek Pyo flinched and shrank back, still radiating chilling killing intent.
They acted as if completely detached from the tension around them.
"Well, well. Plenty of familiar faces here."
Jinmu stepped forward past Baek Pyo, grinning at the Tyrant Hall warriors.
Now it clicked why Baek Pyo had acted on his own.
He remembered now. Gyerim's Tyrant Hall.
And the woman opposite them had called Baek Pyo "brother," so naturally, this was Baek Manor.
But.
"You lot fighting?"
"... ."
Everyone's confusion turned to sheer absurdity at Jinmu's words.
Jinmu spoke from memories of his past life as an eighty-year-old, but to them, it was just some green kid talking down.
"You little punk!"
The reaction was immediate.
With Jinmu treating the long-lost Baek Pyo like a child, Baek Manor hadn't yet grasped the situation. The Tyrant Hall struck first, as expected.
A warrior behind No Yeongchan lunged with a fist.
But.
Tap.
Jinmu casually twisted the man's wrist.
Whirl. Thud!
The man spun in a wide arc and crashed to the floor without even using his strength.
"Damn kid's too hasty."
"...!"
A simple motion, yet the onlookers were dumbfounded.
The Tyrant Hall warriors were especially shocked.
The attacker was Go Hakseong, fifth in rank among their outer patrol experts. Jinmu had felled him with a mere wrist twist.
"I'm in a good mood today. So just leave. It's a good chance, right?"
Jinmu said with wide-eyed cheer.
"You little... ."
Crack!
Mun Chu, the Inner Hall Leader and true to his unorthodox roots, spat defiance despite the enemy's strength—only for his head to snap back.
No one had seen a hand touch his head. Just a casual swat, like shooing a fly.
"The sages said a single word can repay a debt of a thousand taels. So, who else wants to yap?"
Jinmu kept smiling.
One thought lodged in everyone's mind: master. A master far superior to them.
For Baek Manor, a blessing. For Tyrant Hall, a curse.
'This damn... .'
No Yeongchan's face hardened. He'd lost prey in hand and was about to get bitten himself.
"Who might you be, sir?"
Unorthodox folk switched stances fast. Admirable, really.
Age meant nothing in the jianghu. Strength was law and justice—especially for the unorthodox.
That polite address had just saved your neck. At least your head stays on.
"Me? Hyeok... just a guest."
Catching himself in a nostalgic slip, Jinmu grinned and brushed it off.
A guest?
They knew he was hiding his identity.
"I don't know your ties to Baek Manor, but this is a clash between factions. Baek Manor struck first."
Of course he knew. How could he not?
Righteousness and evil can't coexist. Orthodox and unorthodox always fought when they met.
And No Yeongchan's meaning: factional dispute, Baek started it, so outsiders scram.
But did Jinmu care?
"So?"
"...Pardon?"
"So what? Gonna fight?"
"... ."
"Doesn't matter to me. I was gonna let you off. But if you insist, no reason not to. Annoying, but slicing all your heads here ain't bad."
He uttered brutality with a smile.
But it was fact.
Baek Pyo wasn't pushover. Channeling ruthless techniques, he'd make Tyrant Hall bleed with their numbers. Jinmu bore some blame for that, but so what?
Plus, Jinmu had flattened the first-floor warriors, giving Baek Manor the numerical edge.
Told you not to block.
Jinmu sighed at the downed first-floor foes.
Didn't know the beef, but they'd live. Good unorthodox kids who knew respect.
"Wanna try?"
"...!"
Jinmu smiled, but No Yeongchan and Tyrant Hall gasped under crushing pressure blanketing the hall.
Jinmu's aura crushed like a massive serpent.
'Way stronger than expected.'
No Yeongchan summoned his full might from pride as leader, but his feet cracked the floor.
Meanwhile, Jinmu subtly shifted, tormenting each Tyrant Hall warrior one by one.
Starting with No Yeongchan, then beside him, behind him... Huh?
Jinmu's gaze locked on one spot.
'Oh? Slipping through?'
A rare catch.
Even without full power, their leader gritted teeth—yet this one shrugged it off.
'Check this guy out.'
Jinmu felt impressed, tempted to test further.
"W-We yield, sir."
No Yeongchan, knees buckling, answered desperately.
Whoosh!
Jinmu's aura vanished. Tyrant Hall warriors heaved for air.
"Good call. Stubbornness just gets you killed—for your loss."
Jinmu grinned, pulling a chair to sit.
"What's your name?"
"Huff, huff... I'm No... of Tyrant Hall."
"Not you."
"Pardon?"
Jinmu irritably pointed. Eyes converged.
The warrior behind No Yeongchan.
"Ah, this man... no, this guy's from headquarters..."
No Yeongchan corrected himself. "This man"?
"Didn't ask you."
"... ."
No Yeongchan's face twisted in humiliation. With Baek Manor watching.
But survival trumped pride. Fighting this aura-master meant instant death.
"Your name?"
The pointed man bowed politely.
"Mok Ingym."
"Mok Ingym?"
Unfamiliar name.
And No Yeongchan, their leader, called him "sir" briefly.
Impossible for a faction head to have a stronger subordinate.
Evil Hegemony Heaven? Unlikely.
Deflecting Sword Aura Realm pressure wasn't easy.
He'd remember such a core expert.
Who was he?
Jinmu squinted at Mok Ingym.
"If sir permits, we'll withdraw."
No Yeongchan bowed, requesting leave.
Jinmu nodded without overthinking. Curious about Mok Ingym, but so what? A young unorthodox master mattered more.
No reason to stop them leaving. They hadn't attacked him, and he wasn't wiping out unorthodox seeds.
"Yeah, go."
"Thank you, sir!"
Unlike rude Baek Pyo, polite farewell.
Good. Hustle, lads. Bright future for the unorthodox.
Jinmu waved cheerfully at departing No Yeongchan, cheering inwardly.
As they vanished, Baek Yeorin and elders rushed over, kneeling.
"Great hero! Thank you for your aid!"
"... ."
Not really intending to help.
Still, after ten years, her brother ignored her for the hero's greeting. Family nods even to foes.
Orthodox folk...
Jinmu pitied Baek Pyo inwardly, clicking his tongue.
But mission accomplished. Dropped him home with sister and retainers. Well done, Jinmu!
Missed his grilling, but ditched the troublesome punk. Saved on meal too. Home-cooked.
"Alright, I'll be off. Good work, everyone."
"...Pardon?"
Everyone looked up in shock at his abrupt farewell.
"What? Something to say?"
"N-No, it's just so sudden. Please come to headquarters."
"Huh? Why?"
"Pardon?"
Baek Yeorin looked baffled.
"Must be a misunderstanding. I just escorted a runaway home. Even walked him."
"... ."
Baek Yeorin finally glanced at her brother.
Saiwongjima, they say.
The colt who fled, tormenting her for ten years, brought not a mare but combat forces—and a master overpowering Tyrant Hall brass solo.
She couldn't let him go.
They'd survived thanks to him, but Tyrant Hall and countless unorthodox eyed Baek Manor.
Impudent after one favor, but Tyrant Hall wouldn't quit. For survival, they needed this master desperately.
Tie with him, vent grudges, reclaim Gyerim dominance.
Her looks? Too young. Still, must snag him somehow.
"Benefactor!"
"... ."
Benefactor again? Getting annoying.
Jinmu frowned at her.
"I humbly beg you. Let us repay Baek Manor's debt."
"Nah, no need."
Blunt refusal left her speechless.
Must grab him.
"Benefactor."
Baek Pyo cut in.
"Let's go. For rice."
"... ."
"I'll grill meat tasty."
"... ."
"All my skills."
Baek Pyo grinned sinisterly, leaking cold killing intent.
That... tempted.
Yeah, eat to live. Meal first, then go.
"Where? Your place?"
"Yes."
"Fine."
Seeming thoughtful then nodding instantly, Jinmu left Baek Yeorin and elders dumbfounded.
"What are you doing? Guide him quickly!"
"P-Pardon? Ah, yes."
Outer Hall Elder Yi Im-saeng snapped to and led ahead.
Baek Yeorin couldn't comprehend.
Meat? What meat? Grill tasty?
"Manor Lord."
"...Yes?"
"Let's go."
"...Yes."
"Heavens, for the young master to bring such a man."
Grand Elder Sama So muttered, tilting his head. Baek Yeorin pondered meat the whole way.