We’ve Already Come Too Far (5)
Goooooooooo!
The ground shook violently, as if a true earthquake had struck.
In a world bleached white from end to end, a majestic golden radiance blazed forth with overwhelming grandeur.
And then—
Wooooooom!
With a sound like thousands of bees taking flight at once, the golden light burst outward like a river breaking through a dam.
“Aaaagh!”
“Uwaaaagh!”
Those swept up in that monstrous fist force were flung screaming into the distance, their bodies cartwheeling through the air like kicked balls.
“...That’s total bullshit.”
Jo Gul muttered as he stared at the sight.
“No, seriously!”
Then he rounded on the others, indignation blazing in his face.
“Some people have to slash at empty air seventy-seven times just to pull off one move, and some bastard sends six people flying with a single punch! Damn it, if I’d known this, I should’ve gone to Shaolin too! Why the hell did I come to Mount Hua and—”
“No, wait, what the hell is wrong with you?!”
Yoon Jong, still mid-sword form, lashed out and kicked Jo Gul with all his might.
“Kyaaaah!”
Jo Gul flew sideways and rolled across the ground, clutching his ribs. Even that didn’t calm Yoon Jong down; he glared furiously and snapped,
“We’ll talk after this fight. You’ve gone and accused someone of murdering their own master now, you little punk?”
“I-I wasn’t accusing him of that, Sahyung!”
“Shut up!”
“Y-yes, sir.”
Sensing the murderous intent in Yoon Jong’s eyes, Jo Gul hurriedly clamped his mouth shut. When Yoon Jong’s eyes went bloodshot, he was the one person even Chung Myung couldn’t stop. What chance did Jo Gul have?
Still, it is a little unfair.
The efficiency was just different. Completely different.
He could truly feel why Shaolin’s martial arts were called the best under heaven. Of course, the fact that the person using them happened to be a person like that made them look even more splendid and impressive, but still...
“Anyway, that monk really isn’t messing around.”
Maybe it was because the image of Hye Yeon constantly being bullied by Chung Myung, tears brimming in his eyes, had burned itself into his mind. But if he thought about it, wasn’t that guy the supreme genius Shaolin’s abbot had cherished like a treasure?
If he hadn’t met Chung Myung, he’d probably be walking the broad, level road to success at Shaolin right now.
And yet that man...
“Hooof, Amitabha! Please die, benefactor!”
...was doing that.
Every time Hye Yeon sent out a fist, the Ice Sword Squad members were blown away like bundles of straw kicked by a horse.
No matter how different the schools of martial arts were, no matter how different the levels of mastery, by this point it was impossible not to feel cheated.
“You bastard!”
“Hiiiiiik!”
Suddenly a sword flashed right before his nose, and Jo Gul yelped and rolled away in a panic.
“No way. That crazy bastard, seriously?”
Seeing that, Yoon Jong’s eyes nearly burst with rage. To lose focus in the middle of battle—was there really another fool like that in the world?
Feeling Yoon Jong’s gaze pinned to his back, Jo Gul broke out in a cold sweat. Then he quickly began hammering the Ice Sword Squad even more one-sidedly than before. His sword was twice as fast as it had been, and his internal energy circulated twice as quickly.
And he sweated twice as much too.
Fortunately for Jo Gul, Yoon Jong couldn’t keep watching him forever. It was because Hye Yeon had started raging like a madman, quite literally.
“Taaaaaaah!”
Kwaaaang!
“Amitabha!”
Woooooong!
Every time Hye Yeon thrust out a palm, golden light flashed brilliantly. The warriors of the Ice Sword Squad flew helplessly like dead leaves in the wind.
“...Yeah, that’s honestly a bit much.”
Who would ever guess that man was a Shaolin disciple?
Shaolin’s hallmark was compassionate power. But there was not a trace of mercy to be found in Hye Yeon’s technique, and his fist was full of tyranny.
Seeing the slightly smaller Hye Yeon sweep across the battlefield with such terrifying force, he looked less like a monk of Shaolin and more like some great lord of the evil sects.
“...All of this is Mount Hua’s karma and sin.”
To be exact, Chung Myung’s sin.
“...Amitabha.”
Yoon Jong let out a sorrowful chant and shook his head. Then he moved to finish off the Ice Sword Squad, who had completely lost the will to fight.
Bang Pyo’s eyes swept constantly over his surroundings. His face was growing paler by the second.
Anyone with eyes could see that the tide had turned decisively against them.
How did it come to this?
It was natural that the prisoners who had regained their internal energy would turn on their guards. Those men had been the former palace lord’s closest henchmen to begin with. Once they could use their inner force again, they were not opponents ordinary Ice Palace warriors could handle.
But those Ice Sword Squad members were a different matter entirely.
“T-those...”
Hye Yeon was now radiating light from his eyes, laughing like a madman as he swept the Ice Sword Squad aside.
“W-what on earth are those guys...”
Bang Pyo’s vision went dim. How could the Ice Sword Squad be crushed so one-sidedly?
The Ice Sword Squad was one of the Ice Palace’s main military units. It wasn’t accurate to call them the Ice Palace’s absolute strongest force, but even so, they were in no way lacking the word “elite.”
And yet that elite force was being pushed around like children by those youngsters.
How was he supposed to accept that reality?
I need to escape.
Bang Pyo’s mind began racing.
The outcome of this battle had already been decided. If things continued like this, not a single one of them would make it out alive; they’d all be subdued.
Someone had to get out of here and inform the Ice Palace.
That the prisoners had escaped. That the guests had drawn swords against the Ice Palace.
Just as Bang Pyo rapidly searched for a route of escape, a voice cut through the chaos.
“You look like a rat still twitching its eyes around.”
“...!”
Han Yi-myung, having just finished off the guard blocking his way, slowly approached Bang Pyo, white extreme yin energy gathering in both hands.
Seeing the deep-seated hatred in his eyes, Bang Pyo felt his heart drop.
“Y-Yeo Sa-hon.”
“To think you can still utter my name so casually. Compared to the days when you were fawning over me, calling me Elder, Elder, the world really has changed, hasn’t it, Bang Pyo?”
Bang Pyo found himself retreating without meaning to.
“D-do you really think you’ll get away with this? The palace lord will—”
“If I feared Seol Cheon-sang, I never would have started in the first place.”
Yeo Sa-hon’s eyes flashed icy blue.
Anyone who still tried to talk after seeing that gaze was either a fool or had no sense at all. Unfortunately, Bang Pyo did not think of himself as belonging to either category.
He extended one hand threateningly toward Yeo Sa-hon while taking a step back.
“Elder Yeo... If this were the old you, I’d be no match for you.”
“You know that well enough.”
“...But you’re not in normal condition either, are you? No matter how much internal energy you’ve recovered, there’s no way you can easily purge years of stagnant impurity from your body.”
Yeo Sa-hon’s brow furrowed slightly.
Bang Pyo wasn’t wrong. He had recovered his internal energy, yes, but his body had not been restored, and he hadn’t recovered even half of his former prowess. The same was true for the other prisoners here.
“With a body like that—”
Bang Pyo thrust out a palm strike.
The chilling yin energy packed into it shot straight toward Yeo Sa-hon.
“Kuh!”
Yeo Sa-hon swatted the incoming strike aside and tried to rush Bang Pyo, but in that instant Bang Pyo had already leaped far away.
“Damn it!”
Yeo Sa-hon twisted his face and chased after him. If he let Bang Pyo escape, pursuit forces would be organized in no time...
“Hm?”
But in that very moment—
Kwaaaaaaaang!
With a sound that shook the earth itself, Bang Pyo, who had been flying like a hawk, was driven straight into the ground.
Crack. Crack-crack-crack.
Yeo Sa-hon stood frozen, blinking blankly. Ahead of him, a huge semicircular crater had formed before he even realized it.
“Th-”
What left him even more stunned was not the crater, but the sight inside it.
Chung Myung was squatting atop Bang Pyo’s grotesquely twisted body, scratching his head.
“Uh... did I step on him too hard?”
“...!”
Bang Pyo convulsed, foam bubbling from his mouth.
Yeo Sa-hon’s jaw dropped.
“Chung Myung, they’re all gathered.”
At Baek Cheon’s words, Chung Myung turned his head. The Ice Palace warriors and guards who had been subdued and dragged over were now packed together in one place.
About half of them had lost consciousness, but the rest were still awake. Their faces were filled with inescapable bewilderment and humiliation.
“Tch.”
Seeing that, Chung Myung clicked his tongue once.
Behind him, the prisoners were still brimming with unresolved hatred; they kept jerking with barely restrained rage. Every time they did, the guards flinched and shrank back in fear.
In the end, it was Yeo Sa-hon who stepped forward and calmed the prisoners.
“Everyone, stay calm. It is true that these men have committed no small number of crimes, but we all know the real culprit is not them, but Seol Cheon-sang.”
“Of course we know that, Elder. But...”
“How could I not understand how you feel? But if we lay a hand on them any further, we would become no different from that bastard Seol Cheon-sang ourselves.”
It seemed Yeo Sa-hon’s words had gotten through. The prisoners let out heavy sighs and gradually released their killing intent one by one.
Watching this, Chung Myung’s eyes gleamed.
He still has people’s loyalty.
Whether he had naturally been that kind of man, or whether it had come from years spent enduring hardships together in that desolate valley, Chung Myung couldn’t say. But in any case, the prisoners here were following Yeo Sa-hon’s words without question.
“First.”
Yeo Sa-hon bowed deeply toward Chung Myung and his group.
“I have received a grace that I can never repay, not even with my life.”
Baek Cheon immediately returned the salute.
“We merely did what Mount Hua’s disciples were supposed to do. Please don’t trouble yourself over it.”
“Ah...”
Indeed, there was no better way to describe his words, his bearing, his whole presence than with the phrase a man of chivalry.
Just as Yeo Sa-hon was about to answer in heartfelt gratitude—
“Ah, move aside!”
Chung Myung grabbed Baek Cheon and flung him backward without a shred of hesitation.
“Ack!”
Baek Cheon flew away and rolled through the snow, and Chung Myung glanced at him with a scowl.
“Why are you acting like everything’s already done? This is just getting started. Honestly, that fake dignity of yours would still be there even if you died.”
“You little—!”
Baek Cheon’s eyes nearly turned white as he charged back in fury, but Yoon Jong and Jo Gul, as if by instinct, seized both his arms.
“Please calm down a little, Sasuk.”
“He’s not exactly wrong, is he?”
“What did you say, you punk?”
Jo Gul quickly averted his eyes from Baek Cheon’s gaze.
Chung Myung paid the noise behind him no further attention and continued speaking with Yeo Sa-hon.
“How’s your body?”
“I’ll need several days to recuperate. Of course, that still won’t restore my full strength...”
It was a huge problem for a martial artist to have been unable to train for years. It would take a long time just to recover his original level.
“Well, there’s nothing to be done about that.”
But Chung Myung merely shrugged.
“You know what needs to be done, right?”
“Of course.”
Yeo Sa-hon nodded.
“But how did you know that there were people in the North Sea secretly supporting the former palace lord?”
“Old Man Han told me before. He said they had tunnels dug all over the place. It can’t be easy hiding out here with a child in a place like this. I figured there had to be people helping them.”
Yeo Sa-hon looked at Chung Myung with an expression of admiration.
Because of his vulgar mannerisms and flippant speech, it was easy to mistake him for a fool. But this Daoist Chung Myung had a keen edge far beyond what anyone would expect.
Even after realizing that, however, unease still lingered.
Can I really leave the fate of the North Sea to this man?
But there was no other way now. If Chung Myung was right, a horrifying storm of blood and fire would soon sweep across the North Sea.
As a man of the North Sea, as a warrior of the North Sea Ice Palace, that had to be stopped.
Yeo Sa-hon spoke with a grave expression.
“Then, for now...”
“Ah, wait a second.”
At that moment, Chung Myung raised a hand to stop him.
Then he tilted his head slightly and looked at the subdued Ice Palace warriors.
“It’s not good to have too many ears listening. Let’s deal with these guys first.”
“What do you plan to do?”
“Hmm.”
Chung Myung thought for a moment, then crossed his arms and muttered,
“If we want to leave no loose ends, I guess we should just chop off their heads—”
“Hiiik!”
“D-Daoyist!”
The prisoners, who had suffered so much abuse from the guards, were the ones who panicked instead. Chung Myung clicked his tongue.
“Hmm. That would be good, but I’m a Daoist in name, so I can’t go around killing people that easily.”
“Phew...”
Without meaning to, Yeo Sa-hon let out a sigh of relief.
Honestly, this Daoist had everything going for him except that his sense of mischief was far too severe...
“Throw them.”
“Pardon?”
Chung Myung jerked his chin toward the cliff and shouted,
“Soso! Give them the qi-dissolving poison!”
“Yes, Sahyung!”
Then he smirked.
“Feed them a decent amount of qi-dissolving poison, then toss them down below the valley. If their luck is good and someone finds them, they’ll live. If they’re unlucky, well... nothing we can do about that.”
“...”
“Oh, and take down the rope first. It’ll be annoying if they try to climb back up.”
“...”
“What are you waiting for? Hurry up and throw them. We’re busy.”
Watching Chung Myung speak with such utter calm, Yeo Sa-hon gave a dazed laugh.
He’s worse than the Demonic Sect.
At least those bastards had the decency to let you hold onto a rope while they sent you down.
Yeo Sa-hon silently vowed never, ever to provoke Chung Myung’s temper.