Chapter 129
Chapter 129
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 129
Chapter Title: That Person's Past Events
-----------------------------------------------------------------
At the same time, Heo Son-dam swung his heavy sword.
Caught off guard by the sudden ambush, Han Ibi swung his Hanjo Sword to block the heavy blade.
Clang!
With that sound, both men's movements froze for a moment.
A clash of pure strength against strength.
Heo Son-dam spoke in astonishment.
"So you've been hiding your power."
Han Ibi replied,
"This must be what they call 'the pot calling the kettle black.' But tell me, is this how the instructor of the Martial Alliance should act?"
"I told you, I'm not usually like this. You're just unlucky."
At that moment, Han Ibi suddenly recalled the words of Yeo Seonpyo-guk's leader, Cheon Sin-u.
The final destination in the Compendium of Tactical Strategies had been the imperial palace.
His head throbbed painfully.
'Damn it. Why didn't I think of that? The palace... the palace... the palace. So the Martial Alliance is connected to the palace! Which means...'
Without slackening his grip on the Hanjo Sword, Han Ibi said,
"The Ye Seong King ordered it."
Heo Son-dam's face showed genuine surprise.
"Ha! You've got a knack for startling people. You even know about the Ye Seong King."
"It's still less shocking than what you know about the iron chest."
"Ahahaha. Now I really can't let you live. You have only your loose tongue to blame."
Heo Son-dam resumed his twisted rider stance.
But Han Ibi struck first.
Channeling his internal energy, he unleashed the first form of the Zhongli Pure Swordsmanship: One Swing Frost Blade.
A razor-sharp sword energy like frostbite shot toward Heo Son-dam's throat.
This was no longer a spar—it was a fight for survival.
There was no reason to hold back lethal strikes.
Heo Son-dam countered with the South Sea Swordsmanship form Scattering Bright Moon Crossing Waves.
The clash of their swords filled the cave with a deafening roar.
At the same time, Han Ibi's frost-like energy scattered powerlessly in all directions.
But Han Ibi swiftly shifted his stance, deploying the basic form of Light and Nimble Small Sea Sword.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Heo Son-dam said admiringly,
"What an exquisite technique. Swordplay this concise is rare."
But Han Ibi had no breath to spare for a reply.
The South Sea Swordsmanship and Half-Moon Sword alternated like a relay assault.
'Such rapid switches—it's disorienting. He can wield two completely different styles like this.'
Real combat was the ultimate training, as they said.
But such thoughts were fleeting.
The angles of the Half-Moon Sword and South Sea Swordsmanship differed so vastly that Han Ibi could barely keep up with defense alone.
'I need to attack... I have to attack...'
That was when it happened.
Something lunged at Han Ibi's solar plexus like a crocodile.
Heo Son-dam's Sea Moon Palm Technique.
A blood-red palm!
Han Ibi couldn't block in time and hastily channeled Dark Shell Gong toward his midsection.
Boom!
With the sound, he was hurled three zhang away.
Heo Son-dam laughed.
"It's over now."
The explosive power of the Sea Moon Palm was tremendous.
It must be tied to his palm turning red at the moment of impact.
Yet Dark Shell Gong proved remarkably effective.
Han Ibi's mind blanked for a moment, but he forced his trembling legs to stand.
"It's not over until it's over."
A glint of interest flashed in Heo Son-dam's eyes.
"I'll give you credit for toughness."
"That was like getting hit with a feather duster."
"Hahaha. Your tongue's even sharper."
Then Heo Son-dam came flying at him with a whistle.
Han Ibi gripped his Hanjo Sword in reverse and braced.
The Half-Moon Sword manifested again, blades pouring from odd angles.
Han Ibi combined the upper Kun and lower Zhen of the Eight Trigrams Step, dodging diagonally.
'I'll counter lines with lines.'
He had switched from direct confrontation to evasion.
For a time, the pursuer and evader played a deadly game of cat and mouse.
The Eight Trigrams Step lived up to its elusive reputation; focused on evasion, even Heo Son-dam couldn't catch him immediately.
In a trance-like state, Han Ibi dodged Heo Son-dam's assaults.
However...
'Oh no!'
A chilling sensation.
Han Ibi's back hit the cave wall.
Only then did he realize Heo Son-dam had cornered him against the wall.
At the same moment, the red palm flew in.
Boom!
But this time, both men's torsos shook simultaneously.
Han Ibi had countered with Fierce Tiger Palm.
He flashed the most relaxed smile he could muster.
Inside, though, he was on the verge of bursting from suppressed agony.
His qi and blood churned, threatening to make him cough up blood at any second.
'As expected, a normal palm technique can't match this...'
That was when it happened.
Bwoooong!
A horn sounded from afar.
The signal that the test had ended.
Han Ibi said,
"If we don't head back soon, it'll arouse suspicion."
Heo Son-dam swung his hand, launching a Half-Moon Sword strike, and said,
"Sure, someone might get suspicious. But..."
Han Ibi dodged it by a hairsbreadth with Eight Trigrams Step.
"...your tongue runs wild with bravado, but you're more naive than you look. Do you really believe I decided on something this important alone?"
Ding.
Han Ibi's mind reeled.
'There are collaborators inside the Martial Alliance...'
Then he saw Heo Son-dam's palm reddening again.
'That's the signal for his palm technique. Now that I know, it won't work!'
Heo Son-dam thrust the Sea Moon Palm with blinding speed.
Han Ibi swiftly stepped to evade a direct clash.
However...
Astonishingly, the strike was a feint.
His red left palm twisted mid-air like a ghost and slammed toward Han Ibi's solar plexus.
At the same time, Heo Son-dam's heavy sword danced in.
Its sharp edge rushed to decapitate him.
It was like facing a pincer attack from two foes—one had to be abandoned.
'Better to take the hit than be sliced!'
Han Ibi raised his Hanjo Sword vertically into a defensive stance.
Clang!
Boom!
The impacts rang out, hurling his body backward.
This time, there was no chance to activate Dark Shell Gong.
The crash split his lip, blood trickling down.
He barely propped himself up and smiled, unwrapping a silk handkerchief.
"I'm injured, so I'm out. Time to let me go. Here, take the handkerchief."
Heo Son-dam burst into laughter.
"You're a riot. My eye for talent never fails."
Then his expression turned grave.
"If not for this critical matter, I'd have taken you as my disciple."
Han Ibi said,
"The only 'critical matter' I know is taking a dump... heh. Bad guys always trot out some grand excuse like that."
Indirect insult technique.
Heo Son-dam scowled.
"Still all talk. That tongue will get you in real trouble someday."
"You said you're killing me today—doubt I'll live that long."
Heo Son-dam roared with laughter.
"What a shame. Such a shame."
"A shame you'll kill me?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"Soon you'll be begging me to kill you."
"No way."
Heo Son-dam dropped his smile and stared at Han Ibi.
"You said everyone has secrets, right?"
Han Ibi felt a bad premonition.
Heo Son-dam continued,
"Didn't it strike you as odd? That my sect is Haenam Sect."
"Must look good to the Martial Alliance."
"Not wrong. But there's a deeper reason."
"Not really interested."
"I want to tell you. Won't matter once you're dead anyway."
"Fine. I'll humor you."
Heo Son-dam laughed as if stung.
"Uhahaha. You've got a talent for making fools of people."
"Fools never know they're fools."
Heo Son-dam chuckled heartily for a while, then stopped abruptly.
"Haenam Sect is known for its unique swordsmanship, but there's a secret only insiders know."
"Secrets everywhere, huh."
"Our wealth comes from... backroom dealings."
"Running a gambling den?"
"We don't stoop that low. We've trained assassins for ages. Mostly targeting key black path figures."
"Sounds just as low."
Ignoring him, Heo Son-dam said,
"Especially me... I was the acknowledged top assassin. And..."
He approached Han Ibi slowly.
"I'm skilled at extracting info from others. That's how a lone wanderer like me rose in the Martial Alliance. Hahaha. They're our biggest client."
Suddenly, he lunged at Han Ibi.
Han Ibi yelped "Uh!" and assumed a defensive stance.
But Heo Son-dam's elusive fingers struck Han Ibi's vital points, paralyzing him.
Han Ibi thought, 'I'm screwed,' but said,
He needed to distract Heo Son-dam's focus as much as possible.
"Why spare my speech points?"
"I want to hear you scream."
"You just like my voice, admit it."
That was when it happened.
A sickening crack.
"Aaaargh!"
An enormous scream echoed.
Heo Son-dam had snapped Han Ibi's left pinky finger.
Heo Son-dam grinned.
"Yes, what a lovely voice."
Tears welled in Han Ibi's eyes as he said,
"No! Shouldn't you interrogate first, then torture?"
"That's for lowlifes. Wastes time. Pain first, answers later. Proper order."
He snapped the ring finger next.
"Argh!"
Heo Son-dam squatted before the collapsed Han Ibi.
"Your actions don't add up, so I need confirmation."
"W-what?"
"Where'd you hide the manual?"
"I told you, I threw it off the cliff... No! Aaaargh!"
Heo Son-dam crushed the middle finger too.
The pain was incomparable to an accident—unbearably immense.
Heo Son-dam leaned in close.
"I promise."
"W-what?"
"Tell me where the manual is, and I'll kill you instantly. No more pain."
"I-it's really off the cliff. Why won't you believe me?"
Heo Son-dam stood abruptly.
"Doesn't matter. True or not, if you won't talk, I'll break your bones one by one, slice your flesh bit by bit, and make you suffer to death."
"I really don't know. I might even blurt a fake spot from the pain."
"Lie to me... and I'll slaughter your senior brothers and sect leader from Qingcheng as revenge."
Han Ibi gritted his teeth.
"You're... utterly ruthless."
"My life made me this way. Wasn't always."
"I see... But you know."
Heo Son-dam eyed him.
"You said everyone has secrets."
"So?"
"I think I have one too."
"What? What are you— No!"
"What's wrong?"
Heo Son-dam stared in shock.
"Your eyes... why are they like that?"
"What, just my eyes?"
Han Ibi rose, pointing to the black marks rising along his meridians.
"This is my secret."
(To be continued)