Chapter 61: The Fist King Appoints the Nine Dragons Sect Leader
The Fist King Appoints the Nine Dragons Sect Leader
Chapter 61: The Fist King Appoints the Nine Dragons Sect Leader
As the lightning qi surged into Ha Jeon-ik's straight blade—
Ha Jeon-ik flinched and released his sword, hurling his left palm strike forward. But Dan Woo-sung, who had already gripped the blade with his left hand, was faster. His kick slammed into Ha Jeon-ik's torso, and in the same motion, he snatched the sword with his right hand.
Then, in an instant, he channeled lightning qi into the blade—
WHOOSH—CRACKLE-CRACKLE-CRACKLE!
The once-darkened blade was now wrapped in white lightning.
To the eyes of the Black Path experts, this wasn't mere sword energy—it was sword force, something far beyond.
"......"
The white qi didn't just coat the blade—it roared violently, large and small arcs of lightning writhing incessantly along its edge.
Who could have expected the Grand Prince of the Silver River Merchant Group to wield such martial prowess? Rumors of his strength had circulated, sure. But Dan Woo-sung had never exerted his full power, not even at the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament. Judging a man's depth by hearsay alone led to situations like this.
The eerie, otherworldly sound of crackling lightning froze the Eight Dragons Sect's leadership in place, their expressions stiff with terror. Even Ha Jeon-ik, who had taken the kick, slumped against the wall, staring at Dan Woo-sung.
Elder Maeng gritted his teeth and spoke.
"Were you the Fist King's disciple?! This lightning qi—!"
Dan Woo-sung raised the straight blade and said:
"Die."
He swung the sword vertically toward Elder Maeng. The white lightning clinging to the blade shot forth with a bizarre SHOOOONG—!, hurtling toward the blind elder.
Elder Maeng crossed his arms to block—
BOOOOOOM!
The impact sent his body hurtling backward, crashing into the wall with a THUD— before sliding down limply. But unlike the previous man who had hit the wall, Elder Maeng's fate was different. His body trembled violently under the lightning's assault, white foam bubbling from his lips.
Dan Woo-sung turned his gaze to Ha Jeon-ik, still gripping the sword.
Ha Jeon-ik leaped into the air alone, landing among his subordinates. His face was deathly pale.
'The Fist King's disciple?'
Then, Dan Woo-sung hurled the straight blade.
SHINK—THUNK!
The sect's leadership whipped their heads around—only to see Ha Jeon-ik's own sword embedded in Elder Maeng's forehead.
It felt like a complete madman had stormed in. Even Ha Jeon-ik, leader of the Eight Dragons Sect and a veteran of countless battles, was at a loss.
In the martial world, strength was both the beginning and the end.
Dan Woo-sung sat in the sect leader's chair, glaring at the remaining sword-wielding elders before pointing at them.
"Anyway, I'll kill anyone who tries to run first."
He then asked Ha Jeon-ik:
"Sect Leader Ha, what do you think is going through my head right now? Tell me."
Ha Jeon-ik answered immediately.
"I don't know."
Dan Woo-sung nodded.
"I think I know what you're thinking. 'Can I survive today? Can I escape? Should I order my men to attack first while I slip away?' Something like that, right? Correct or not—answer."
Ha Jeon-ik replied curtly.
"Correct."
Dan Woo-sung turned his gaze to the sect's strategist.
"Eight Dragons Sect strategist."
The strategist responded.
"Yes."
"You're the one who knows so many ways to ruin the Silver River Merchant Group's business, aren't you? 'Make a few trading partners disappear,' was it? Smart guy. Come here. Genius strategist."
When the strategist remained frozen, Dan Woo-sung spoke to Ha Jeon-ik.
"Sect Leader Ha, choose: either you die, or you send the strategist over here."
Ha Jeon-ik glanced at the strategist and nodded slightly, as if telling him to go. The man stepped forward hesitantly—
Dan Woo-sung unleashed a Lightning Fist toward him.
BOOOOOOM!
The strategist flew into the wall, his skull shattering as his body collapsed atop Elder Maeng's corpse.
No one had expected him to die like this.
Everyone watching flinched.
Only now did they realize—a lunatic had entered the Eight Dragons Sect.
Dan Woo-sung asked:
"Does the Eight Dragons Sect Leader have family?"
Too stunned to think, Ha Jeon-ik answered immediately.
"Yes."
Dan Woo-sung tilted his head.
"What? You have family, yet you dared to provoke me like that? Are you insane?"
Ha Jeon-ik frowned. What kind of question was this? But after a moment, he understood—Dan Woo-sung was implying he would slaughter his family too. Of course, that would only happen if they crossed the Silver River Merchant Group again.
Ha Jeon-ik turned to his subordinates.
"Lower your swords."
Blades clattered to the ground.
Ha Jeon-ik knelt first, pressing his forehead to the floor.
"I gravely underestimated Your Excellency's strength. My crime is great. From now on, the Eight Dragons Sect—and I, Ha Jeon-ik—will obey your every command."
The rest of the leadership followed, kneeling in unison.
Dan Woo-sung scoffed.
"Aren't you Black Path?"
"Yes."
"You expect me to trust the word of Black Path dogs? I heard that after Jin So-han, all that's left are idiots swinging twin blades and pretending to be something they're not."
"Not all of us are like that."
"Oh? Then since you swore revenge for Elder Maeng's death, prove yourself as Black Path should. I'll accept your retaliation."
Ha Jeon-ik replied:
"I realized too late that I lack the strength to keep my word."
"Even without strength, keeping your word is what makes you Black Path."
Still bowing, Ha Jeon-ik crawled forward, grabbed a fallen sword, placed his left hand on the ground—and chopped.
THUD.
A pinky finger rolled away.
Ha Jeon-ik declared:
"Every time I speak out of turn, I will sever a finger."
He then ordered his kneeling subordinates:
"You too. Cut."
Without hesitation, each of Ha Jeon-ik's men sliced off one of their own fingers.
Dan Woo-sung sighed.
"Am I Jin So-han? I don't have the patience to reform trash like you. And I have no interest in unifying the Black Path with weaklings like these."
"We will simply obey. We no longer consider ourselves Black Path. We are unworthy."
Dan Woo-sung stood abruptly and strode toward Ha Jeon-ik.
"Hey, Sect Leader Ha."
"Yes."
He grabbed Ha Jeon-ik's head, forcing their eyes to meet.
Dan Woo-sung spoke slowly.
"If the Silver River Merchant Group burns, if our partners are ruined or slaughtered, if someone disappears, if my father or brothers are stabbed—what matters is..."
"Yes."
"I won't die."
He tightened his grip on Ha Jeon-ik's skull.
"I. Won't. Die. Understand?"
"I understand."
Dan Woo-sung scanned the leadership.
"Who's second-in-command?"
"That would be me. Ha Tae-seong."
After studying Ha Tae-seong's face, Dan Woo-sung asked:
"What? Sect Leader Ha, is this your brother?"
"Yes."
"Clean this place up. I'm taking Sect Leader Ha with me. Let's go."
Without protest, Ha Jeon-ik walked to the two corpses, tore a strip of cloth to wrap his bleeding finger, and followed Dan Woo-sung out.
"Hah!"
Cheol Myung-ho had pushed chairs and tables aside, turning the underground gambling den into a training hall as he swung his Black Iron Umbrella.
"Seventy-three thousand eight hundred... eight hundred... Damn it, lost count."
The door at the top of the stairs creaked open—
Cheol Myung-ho roared:
"Who's there?! You made me lose count!"
Dan Woo-sung clicked his tongue as he descended.
"Shut up, you little shit."
Cheol Myung-ho clamped his mouth shut upon seeing Dan Woo-sung—then roared again at the man following behind him.
"And who the hell are you?!"
Dan Woo-sung sighed.
"Is this bastard already showing early signs of Qi Deviation? Take it easy, you madman. You'll lose your mind completely."
Ha Jeon-ik, pale-faced, scanned the underground den. A deranged man clutching a black umbrella was glaring at him.
Dan Woo-sung said:
"Ho-ri, boil some noodles. I'm hungry."
Cheol Myung-ho retorted:
"Master, why come here to eat noodles? Go home and have a proper meal."
Ha Jeon-ik frowned deeply at this bizarre exchange.
Slurp—!
The three men sat around, eating the noodles Cheol Myung-ho had brought. After a sip of broth, Cheol Myung-ho asked:
"What's with this crippled hand?"
He eyed the rough-looking man whose hand was wrapped in bandages. Obviously, he'd been beaten up—but Cheol Myung-ho was more curious about his identity.
Dan Woo-sung replied between bites:
"Ha Jeon-ik, leader of the Eight Dragons Sect."
Cheol Myung-ho nodded along.
"Ahh, Ha Jeon-ik, leader of the Eight Dragons Sect."
Dan Woo-sung asked:
"You know him?"
"Nope. How would I? What a childish name. 'Eight Dragons Sect.' Why not just call it Nine Dragons Sect? Hahahaha—!"
Cheol Myung-ho laughed alone, tumbling off his chair before climbing back up, still cackling.
"Eight Dragons... Damn, am I the only one laughing? Ah, this is too funny."
No one else laughed.
Cheol Myung-ho shook his head and sat back down to eat.
Dan Woo-sung asked Ha Jeon-ik:
"Sect Leader Ha, how many men do you have?"
"Two hundred and forty."
Cheol Myung-ho snorted.
"That's a lot. Typical Black Path."
Ignoring him, Dan Woo-sung continued:
"Sect Leader Ha, this is Cheol Myung-ho. Is he weaker than you?"
Ha Jeon-ik studied Cheol Myung-ho before answering.
"Yes."
Dan Woo-sung issued orders casually.
"Call your men. Have them clean this place up and renovate it into an underground training hall."
"Understood."
"Also, pick sparring partners for Cheol Myung-ho based on his level. Real combat practice."
"Yes."
"If Cheol Myung-ho gets injured, you'll bring a physician to treat him."
"Of course."
"Buy every elixir your funds can afford and feed them to Cheol Myung-ho."
"It will be done."
Dan Woo-sung added:
"Train and invest in him until he's strong enough to become the Nine Dragons Sect Leader. He's my disciple, so don't disrespect him."
Ha Jeon-ik bowed.
"You spared my life. From now on, I will carry out your orders without fail."
Cheol Myung-ho raised a hand like he had something to say.
Dan Woo-sung looked at him.
Cheol Myung-ho spoke:
"Hey, shouldn't you ask my opinion before deciding all this? I'm already busy enough practicing the Three Calamities Sword Art. And who's supposed to teach who here?"
Dan Woo-sung shrugged.
"Forgot to ask. So? You object? Just count your sparring matches toward your Three Calamities repetitions."
Cheol Myung-ho turned to Ha Jeon-ik.
"Don't you have any pride? Just doing whatever you're told? You're older than us, aren't you?"
Ha Jeon-ik replied:
"It's better than dying."
"Wow, you'll live long enough to shit yourself against a wall."
Dan Woo-sung stood.
"Figure it out between yourselves. Sect Leader Ha, if Cheol Myung-ho dies, I'll exterminate the entire Eight Dragons Sect."
"Understood."
With that, Dan Woo-sung vanished, leaving the two men alone in the underground den.
Cheol Myung-ho, now alone with Ha Jeon-ik, grew noticeably quieter. The man was clearly stronger than him.
Ha Jeon-ik extended his bandaged hand.
"Lord Cheol, I'll return with my men. In the meantime, I'll have this treated properly."
"You don't have to come back."
"I will follow orders without exception."
Cheol Myung-ho clicked his tongue.
"Why go that far...?"
Ha Jeon-ik, still pale, answered:
"I heard he was the Fist King's disciple. No Black Path sect that crossed the Fist King ever survived. I consider myself lucky and will cooperate while I can. I look forward to working with you."
"Fist King's disciple? Never heard that."
"Have you heard of the Eight Dragons Sect?"
"I just said I hadn't."
Ha Jeon-ik stood.
"Then I'll take my leave first."
Once he was gone, Cheol Myung-ho muttered as he cleared the noodle bowls:
"Damn bastard acts like it's impossible not to know. Disrespectful prick. I might not know your Eight Dragons Sect, but I know Yoo Jung-hong, leader of the Murim Alliance. You weaklings, I've eaten with him, shared drinks—done it all."
Early-stage Qi Deviation.
Either way, the Eight Dragons Sect's sudden involvement was, for Cheol Myung-ho, a positive turn of events.