Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Thunder Dragon Debut
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I bought some regular clothes from Fabric Shop Owner Song's place and stepped outside. My mind was already set on a plan to curb the Yellow Mountain Sect's excessive bullying. It wasn't some elaborate scheme—just action based on experience. First, I headed into town and separately purchased night travel garb.
'Well then, time to get moving.'
I went to a rundown building first to test my internal energy. If my inner power didn't hold up, there'd be no point in proceeding. Fortunately, the town had plenty of abandoned spots scattered around. In one of them, catching the whiff of food waste, I slowly raised my hand.
Crunch.
"Whoa... it works."
My fingers had sunk completely into the stone wall. Three fingers pierced through it like threading tofu. Impossible for a normal human, but I'd simply channeled true energy along my meridians to harden them. That alone turned my hand into a fearsome weapon.
And I couldn't shake the thought that the internal energy I'd gained might surpass what Millennium Snow Ginseng alone could provide. After all, fusing the Black and White Lotus energies with it had achieved Taiji harmony, potentially yielding far more power.
I slowly moved my fingers, carving words into the stone wall. Just sliding them at about three inches deep, but I could write smoothly enough.
[ The Yellow Mountain Sect is bullying the common folk like gangsters. ]
No metaphors or euphemisms—just the blunt truth. It was so straightforward it barely qualified as a scheme, but seeing it properly carved filled me with satisfaction. Practice over, I decided to erase the traces by testing palm power.
The Azure Dragon Martial Hall techniques I'd learned peaked with the spear art Thunder Spirit Eight Forms, specializing in Thunder Shadow Swordsmanship and Thunder Shadow Step. But in fierce combat, weapons can slip from your grasp, so Chief Instructor Jin So-cheong had taught me a supplementary method.
It was called Thunder Cloud Palm.
According to him, it was the technique that backed the fame of his master, Hall Master Triple Excellence Lee Gwang. Of course, no one doubted Thunder Spirit Eight Forms was the strongest, but Triple Excellence Lee Gwang had mastered spear, sword, and fist to a masterful level, making him one of Guanzhong's peak experts.
My own attainment in Thunder Cloud Palm had barely reached three tenths. As someone specializing in Thunder Spirit Eight Forms and Thunder Shadow Swordsmanship, I hadn't delved deeply into palm techniques—and lacked the talent anyway. I'd memorized the forms and could improvise decently, but never used it much.
Ssssh—
"Urgh...!!"
I'd only gathered true energy in my palm per the incantation, but a bluish light emanated from my hand, lightning crackling around my arm. I'd never seen this even when focusing my hardest before, so I was stunned.
'Is this from the Millennium Snow Ginseng?'
Boom!
Rumble...
"......"
Moments later, after slamming Thunder Cloud Palm into the wall, I stared blankly at the hole big enough for a child to pass through. My palm strikes had at best inflicted solid hits or internal injuries on people before—this was another level entirely. Using it on a person would shatter their upper body to bloody pulp.
I dazedly watched the stone dust scatter before snapping to.
'Oh crap! Gotta get out of here.'
Stay too long, and the noise would draw a crowd. I slipped into the alleys like a shadow. No witnesses—lucky, or I'd have tangled with the guards.
'Anyway, the plan's feasible. Start at dawn tomorrow.'
That night, I turned in early and slept deeply. To shake off the fatigue from scouring mountains and rivers for Millennium Snow Ginseng, I paid the innkeeper handsomely for hot bathwater. My funds were nearly gone, so it was a rare luxury for me.
I dreamed of my late mother.
She was smiling, and it felt good.
The next dawn, I rose an hour before sunrise, donned my night garb, and slipped into town. I cautiously headed toward the upscale houses and buildings I'd scouted by day.
The task was simple.
Just carve words into the stone walls with my fingers.
[ The Yellow Mountain Sect is bullying the common folk like gangsters. ]
Rumble, patter.
Stone dust and grit rose from my fingertips. Even with boosted internal energy, my fingers tingled a bit. After about twenty spots, the pain forced a break.
But my goal was at least fifty walls today. Spacing them every ten or so paces per building, in the busiest streets teeming with people and patrolled by officials. Fifty carvings, and no one could miss it.
'Whoa, guards.'
Spotting three guards patrolling together, I ducked into an alley, heart pounding. Dawn patrol—they didn't seem strong in martial arts, so they missed my presence.
'Hmm... want to do ten more, but what now?'
I could ambush, acupoint them, buy time.
'Nah, call it here.'
Better not leave too many traces. I melted back into the shadows.
"Wh-what the hell!"
"What's this?!"
"Wang Il! Report to the captain quick!"
"Yes, sir..."
Soon after, guards found the carving and raised a fuss.
By daylight, I lay casually on my inn bed, feigning ignorance. I'd rented for three days—no hassle from the owner. I spent the morning leisurely cultivating my energy.
Whooo—
Just one or two Great Celestial Circuits, and majestic internal energy surged through me like a volcano erupting. Thrilling power blasted through my meridians, popping minor vessels. No joke—each circuit felt like layering on more power; I brimmed with strength.
'Since breaching Life and Death Gate, the minor meridians are opening one by one...'
This was huge. Opening minor meridians with internal energy was essential for growth, but forging paths through qi and blood flow was incredibly tough. Without immense potential, most warriors spent lifetimes clearing only key minor meridians in major channels.
Open minor meridians speed true energy transmission. They boost defense when hardening the body with internal energy.
To go further required surging power like mine post-Life and Death Gate—like a geyser. I'd only heard rumors of such realms, never dreamed I'd reach it. Keep cultivating, and my arts would settle into peak realm for sure.
Finishing morning practice, I stepped out. The innkeeper fussed.
"Oh dear... big trouble, sir. Stay inside today, don't come out."
"What's going on?"
"Some lunatic's stirred up the market—guards are furious, patrolling like mad. Get caught up, you could end up in jail. Lock the door; I'll bring food."
"Riot?"
I played dumb, though it was my doing. Confirming no one around, he whispered cautiously.
"Someone wrote blasting the Yellow Mountain Sect... carved right into stone walls!"
"Whoa... a martial arts master?"
Embarrassing, but I kept cool. He didn't suspect me at all.
"Not your everyday expert... but folks are secretly thrilled."
"Why?"
"'Cause it's all true..."
He glossed over awkwardly.
"Anyway, stay put!"
"Got it."
True to his word, he personally brought meals to my room. Eating fried eggs, steamed rice, and chicken dishes, I thought.
'Innkeeper's not reporting for a reward. Doesn't want the hassle.'
Seemed off, but for a sizable inn, it fit. He might even suspect me. Guilty or not, he hated entanglement—no reward guarantee, and investigations kill business.
It meant local officials lacked trust. Commoners and merchants shunned them for lack of consideration.
My luck held. A greedy innkeeper would've made things messy. Sure enough, outside, he chatted with guards, who left. Probably brushed them off with "no suspicious folks."
No need to move more. I sat, pondering next steps.
'This'll work. Yellow Mountain Sect has to back off.'
Anonymous stone-wall graffiti in the market.
Not my original idea.
Straight from the Spear Point Incident, seared deepest in my decades of memories.
Once, disciples of the Nine Great Righteous Sects' Spear Point Sect extorted heavy tributes from locals, bullying outrageously. Rapes and murders swept under the rug.
Then one day, anonymous posters flooded villages around Spear Point Sect. Like mine: [Spear Point Sect is an evil sect plundering people's wealth.]
Word reached the emperor's brother, Yunnan City Lord. Enraged, he summoned imperial guards to investigate. Spear Point denied, but atrocities exposed—sect dissolved on the spot.
Sect leader suicided; elders fled in shame. One of Nine Great Righteous Sects vaporized overnight—even from southernmost Central Plains, it buzzed for years.
It redefined official-muridom ties. Hitherto untouchable, unwritten rule—now clear officials could crush murim anytime.
My method differed plenty from Spear Point Incident.
They plastered dozens of villages simultaneously; I hit one bustling market. Posters vs. finger-carvings.
Still, undeniable exposure to officials and crowds held meaning. Fact officials couldn't ignore; even Yellow Mountain Sect's bribed ones would gripe.
[Yellow Mountain Sect, ease up?]
Pressure even Dragon Slaughtering Divine Sword Sect Leader Yong Jung-il, pinnacle peak expert, couldn't dismiss.
I confirmed success on the third day after acting.
"Woooah..."
"He's here..."
Market buzzed suddenly. Peering out, I saw yellow-robed murim men marching in formation. Their garb and emblems marked them Yellow Mountain Sect warriors from the Nine Great Righteous Sects.
Leading were standout experts—clearly elders or sect leader. Post-Millennium Snow Ginseng, my qi sense sharpened; the four foremost radiated immeasurable power.
Meaning: all four could manifest tangible qi—peak experts!
They had to be sect pillars: elders or leader.
'Can't face them head-on yet.'
Each could shake the world. Like four Triple Excellence Lee Gwangs.
I needed time.
Time to grow into an expert on Millennium Snow Ginseng foundation.
From the inn's second floor, I watched the procession, then shut the window.
Next day, rumors spread.
[Yellow Mountain Sect Leader admits misconduct, donates hundred thousand silver for region's prosperity!
Sect disciples to aid security, closely cooperating with officials!]
Plus maudlin tales: branch lord saddened, sect leader righteous. All bullshit. Summary:
Sect leader cornered, met branch lord.
Agreed to donate hundred thousand silver.
Used "security" pretext to deepen infiltration smoothly.
They'd help security, sure—but commons would feel sect influence stronger.
'Yellow Mountain Sect has a sharp strategist.'
Or the sect leader was brilliant.
No great loss overall. Silver donation just returned extorted funds; spun into expansion ploy. Bribed branch lord more, solidifying ties.
Absurd, but that's the world—I shrugged. At least, they'd hesitate demanding tributes soon, eyes watchful. Commons could breathe; mission accomplished, I felt.
But leaving for Luoyang that day, I glanced back.
'Yellow Mountain Sect bastards are no good either. You're marked.'
When I decipher Heavenly Dark Secret Book and life aligns, they'll face unprecedented calamity.