Chapter 87: The Fist King, Birds of a Feather Flock Together 2
The Fist King, Birds of a Feather Flock Together 2
Chapter 87: The Fist King, Birds of a Feather Flock Together 2
After Dan Woo-sung and the mysterious man left, Cheol Myung-ho was left alone in the underground training hall, scratching his head in confusion.
"A chore-turned-opportunity? What the hell does that even mean?"
Chores were bothersome, while opportunities were good things. Since he had been briefly knocked out, Cheol Myung-ho had no idea what this so-called "opportunity" entailed. The only thing he knew was that the unidentified man was far stronger than someone like the leader of the Eight Dragons Sect.
"Hoho, you made him swing the Three Calamities Sword Technique three hundred thousand times?"
On their way to the Silver River Merchant Group, Mad God asked, and Dan Woo-sung answered.
"Yes."
"On his own? Or did you force him?"
"I pushed him. Gave him a little nudge."
"And how many times did you say he'll do in total?"
"A million."
Mad God's expression shifted in surprise.
"That's an unusual and grueling training regimen. He could easily suffer Qi Deviation."
"He's already insane, so he'll be fine."
Cheol Myung-ho, who had regained consciousness and followed them out, suddenly bellowed at the two men heading toward the Silver River Merchant Group.
"If it's a chore, call it a chore! If it's an opportunity, call it an opportunity! Are you messing with me?"
When Mad God and Dan Woo-sung burst into laughter, Cheol Myung-ho roared again.
"You think this is funny? Huh?"
Dan Woo-sung waved his hand dismissively.
"Just keep training and wait. I'll call for you soon."
"Why should I come just because you call?"
Mad God, as if finally understanding Cheol Myung-ho's nature, turned to Dan Woo-sung.
"Ah, now I get his personality. And why you assigned him this."
"Do you think it'll work?"
Mad God smiled.
"Who knows? Some might swing a million times without a single thought. Others might suddenly grasp the essence of the sword mid-swing. A million is both too few and too many, depending on the person. But life isn't just about the sword, is it?"
Dan Woo-sung felt a pleasant shiver run down his spine as Mad God articulated his thoughts perfectly.
"Exactly."
Mad God, now in good spirits after observing Cheol Myung-ho, continued.
"If that bastard can swing a million times and straighten out his life like a polished blade, then even if he never grasps the sword's essence, it'll be meaningful enough. It'll be excellent training. That's what you wanted for him, right? Becoming stronger is a separate matter."
Mad God's way of thinking aligned closely with Dan Woo-sung's.
"That's all I ask for."
And he believed this was exactly what Cheol Myung-ho needed. If a man who once spent his days counting gambling profits could transform his life through a million swings, that alone would be enough.
Just like Jin So-han.
What was once a meaningless sword dance had, one day, become the foundation of the Drunken Blade's peerless techniques.
When does a martial artist grow stronger? Only by growing stronger day by day. This was true for Mad God, Dan Woo-sung, and Cheol Myung-ho alike.
Upon arriving at the Silver River Merchant Group, Dan Woo-sung smiled faintly and said,
"There's someone I'd like to introduce you to. I'll keep your identity hidden from the others. Is that alright?"
"Someone worth introducing? Should I be excited?"
"Yes."
"Please tell me it's not another lunatic like that Cheol Myung-ho."
Dan Woo-sung burst out laughing. Mad God had apparently already memorized Cheol Myung-ho's name, which made it even funnier.
"No, don't worry."
Of course, the next person Mad God met after Cheol Myung-ho was Baek Yak. Though Dan Woo-sung had deliberately kept Mad God's identity hidden within the merchant group, Baek Yak was an exception. He knew the two would recognize each other immediately upon meeting—rare experts always did.
And he was right.
The moment Baek Yak saw Mad God, her eyes widened in shock before she bowed respectfully.
"Senior, I am Baek Yak."
Thus, Baek Yak and Mad God faced each other. Baek Yak found Mad God fascinating. Despite perfectly concealing his aura, she instinctively knew he was no ordinary man—far from weak. His presence was entirely different from that of Yoo Jung-hong, the Murim Alliance leader.
'Ah, he must be one of the Three Gods. But why does he look so young?'
Mad God was equally surprised. Sensing Baek Yak's aura, he asked,
"The name Baek Yak is new to me. But how did you accumulate such power? Your martial prowess far exceeds your age. It's been a long time since I've been this astonished."
Baek Yak smiled faintly and recited an old saying.
"The elders of my clan, who endured freezing winters for generations, sent me here."
Mad God's eyes widened.
"Ah, you're a descendant of Baek Mujin."
"Yes, Senior. Among the current generation, the Three Gods are said to be the pinnacle. The God of Swords, the God of Healing... and..."
Mad God grinned.
"And?"
Baek Yak replied without hesitation.
"The God of Madmen, or so the rumors say."
Mad God burst into laughter.
"Hahaha... That would be me. Sharp of you to notice. But why is Baek Mujin's descendant in the Silver River Merchant Group?"
Baek Yak glanced at Dan Woo-sung.
"I met him at the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament."
Mad God nodded.
"Ah, so you two were the champions."
"Yes."
"Then your presence makes sense. I'd love to see what Baek Mujin was like."
When Baek Yak tensed slightly, Mad God extended his index finger.
"Ah, should I touch it?"
"No. Strike it with your finger technique—pour as much energy as you can."
Baek Yak struck Mad God's finger with her frost-laden fingertip.
TANG!
Mad God's hand turned bone-white as freezing energy rapidly climbed up to his wrist.
Staring at his hand in shock, Mad God murmured,
"So this is the Frost Qi."
A true martial artist to his core, Mad God imagined Baek Mujin as he felt the icy energy coil around his hand. Who wouldn't want to be the man who crushed all challengers beneath his feet? Mad God certainly did. In his era, the martial world had been overflowing with prodigies—the other two Gods were his greatest rivals, just as he was theirs.
The title of "Strongest Under Heaven" had remained vacant in those days.
In that sense, meeting Baek Mujin's descendant was a welcome surprise.
Clenching his fist, Mad God dispersed the frost energy as if shedding a layer of skin.
He then looked at Dan Woo-sung.
'What an intriguing man.'
The son of a merchant group had Baek Mujin's descendant by his side, and now one of the Three Gods as well. His peculiar charisma seemed to draw extraordinary people to him. And it wasn't just the elite—even a lowly errand boy was treated like a close friend.
This was the martial world Mad God had dreamed of as a child.
A world where the weak and the strong weathered storms together. Yet, his own life had been stained with blood, vengeance, and relentless training.
Mad God spoke.
"Junior."
Baek Yak replied.
"Yes, Senior?"
Mad God smirked.
"Will I get to see the Demonic Path freeze before my eyes?"
Baek Yak nodded.
"I'll show you."
Mad God alternated his gaze between Dan Woo-sung and Baek Yak before nodding in satisfaction.
"I'll look forward to it."
Only after escorting Mad God to the guest quarters did Dan Woo-sung finally reunite with Baek Yak alone. Since the merchant group had many eyes, the two took a rare stroll to Yangping Lake.
The moment they were alone, Baek Yak immediately asked,
"Your aura has changed. Hold still for a moment."
She looked up at Dan Woo-sung's face before carefully touching his cheek.
"What happened?"
Understanding she was asking if he had encountered some opportunity, Dan Woo-sung smiled.
"I ate the Heavenly Peach Fruit. Thanks to Mad God. I was going to tell you anyway. Let's talk as we walk."
The two headed toward Yangping Lake.
"If you had a Yin-Yang physique, you could take the remaining fruit."
"Even without it, the elixir would help. But since I've never trained in Extreme Yang techniques, there's no need to take risks. Let's see how much faster you've become..."
After exchanging a glance, Dan Woo-sung and Baek Yak simultaneously activated their Lightfoot Technique and vanished from sight.
For the first time ever, Dan Woo-sung was shocked—he couldn't shake Baek Yak off. Her movement was no longer silent like before. Because Dan Woo-sung had become much faster, Baek Yak had switched from her feather-light footwork to a more ferocious style to keep up.
In fact, Dan Woo-sung had to slow down to match her pace.
Previously, it had always been Baek Yak adjusting for him.
"You're too fast," she remarked.
Dan Woo-sung finally eased his speed.
"Sorry. Feels like I hogged all the benefits."
Baek Yak smirked, unfazed. She, too, had monopolized her clan's elixirs. Besides, strength took time—even if Dan Woo-sung was faster now, she could catch up with training.
Soon, the two walked hand in hand along Yangping Lake, savoring their reunion.
Of course, lightning and frost energy clashed endlessly between their clasped fingers.
The escort mission to the Murim Alliance finally departed after eleven days. The most crucial factor was securing skilled martial artists for the escort—especially those adept at handling carriages, which meant most of Baek Yak's subordinates had to join.
Three large wagons carried all the goods.
Dan Woo-sung rode in the lead wagon, Baek Yak in the middle, and Mad God in the rear. They deliberately excluded bulky items—this was essentially a shipment of funds from the Silver River Merchant Group to the Murim Alliance, and since the funds were in promissory notes, the cargo was minimal.
The combination of Dan Woo-sung, Cheol Myung-ho, Mad God, and Baek Yak was bizarre.
It felt like Sun Wukong, Sha Wujing, a madman, and a female Tang Sanzang from afar were transporting goods instead of scriptures. Thankfully, the uniforms and insignia of the West Wind Escort Bureau made them appear like an ordinary escort party—though in reality, their combat strength could annihilate entire sects if a fight broke out.
Cheol Myung-ho was the strangest of them all.
When not running errands, he swung his Black Iron Umbrella atop his horse. Even Baek Yak's subordinates watching from the sidelines could only shake their heads at the sheer madness.
He was also Mad God's greatest source of amusement.
Mad God would often lift the carriage curtain to watch Cheol Myung-ho before asking,
"Hey, how many now?"
"Three hundred nineteen thousand nine hundred forty-three."
Mad God would grin. Their exchanges never went beyond this. He couldn't quite explain why Cheol Myung-ho lifted his spirits so much, but he eventually guessed:
'Maybe it's because he's even crazier than me.'
Who in the world practiced sword techniques on horseback? In Mad God's long martial career, he had never seen anything like it.
Later, Mad God called out to Cheol Myung-ho again.
"Hey."
Cheol Myung-ho bellowed back.
"How many times are you gonna ask? I lost count! What was it again?"
"Three hundred nineteen thousand nine hundred ninety-nine. Just one more."
"Got it."
Cheol Myung-ho swung his umbrella downward vertically—finally hitting three hundred twenty thousand.
Mad God applauded, praising him. For some reason, he couldn't help but root for the man. Since Dan Woo-sung had asked him to keep his identity hidden, Cheol Myung-ho still thought Mad God was just his sworn brother—a fairly strong martial artist. His lack of decorum only made him more entertaining.
Pointing to a quiet inn, Mad God said,
"Let's take a break and grab some dumplings."
Cheol Myung-ho sighed.
"Fine. Dumpling opportunity, deploying now."
As he skillfully guided his horse, he shouted to the group.
"Alright, place your orders! If you ask for anything after I get back, you're dead. Speak now."
The escorts chuckled.
"We're good."
"Go ahead."
As Cheol Myung-ho rode past the lead wagon, he yelled at Dan Woo-sung.
"Hey, you bastard! Is this really an opportunity or not?"
Dan Woo-sung lifted the curtain.
"Grab some jerky while you're at it."
Cheol Myung-ho glared before spurring his horse toward the inn, fuming internally.
'If this isn't an opportunity, I swear I'll kill both of you brothers myself. Dumplings? Jerky? How many times do I have to run errands? Damn this miserable life.'
Baek Yak's voice suddenly carried over with internal energy.
"Sir Cheol, just one ice candy..."
Cheol Myung-ho whipped his horse's flank, muttering under his breath.
"Did this ice ghost come all the way to the Central Plains just to eat ice candy? Every damn time with her demands."