So, I Just Came Out? (5)
WHAM!
Yoon Jong was sent flying backward without even managing a scream.
If it had been normal, Jo Gul would have rushed to catch him. But now he didn’t even spare Yoon Jong a glance. No—those eyes of his, burning with killing intent, no longer seemed to have room for anything else.
“Hraaah!”
With a shout, Jo Gul lunged straight at Chung Myung.
A storm of sword energy erupted like wildfire. Fast, ferocious sword qi—so swift and vicious it was almost brutal. Even if it had been generated with wooden swords instead of real blades, it was still not the kind of sword qi one would normally use on one’s sect brothers.
Whoosh!
But the others didn’t try to stop him. They helped him.
Yu I-seol shot forward like lightning and flew in behind Chung Myung. Jo Gul attacked from the front, Yu I-seol from behind.
Deadly sword qi came at him from both sides, but Chung Myung’s eyes didn’t so much as flicker.
Jo Gul’s storm-like strike bore down on Chung Myung from the front.
Yet before it could even blossom into plum blossoms, Chung Myung’s sword slipped through the gaps between that sword qi.
Clang! Clang-clang!
The instant the blade pushed in, it twisted and shredded the sword qi apart.
Tak!
Then it stabbed precisely into the elbow of Jo Gul’s sword arm.
The dazzling burst of sword qi vanished at once, and Jo Gul’s face turned pale as paper.
Whoosh!
Then came the next blindingly fast strike.
“Kuh!”
The reason Jo Gul managed to stop the sword aimed at his throat at all was solely because his own sword was among the fastest in Mount Hua.
But.
Click!
The instant sword met sword, Jo Gul knew something was wrong. There wasn’t the slightest strength behind the sword coming for his throat. The moment it met Jo Gul’s blade, it bounced back uselessly, like chopsticks striking a club.
Instead, Chung Myung’s fist—his hand still gripping the sword—was flying straight for Jo Gul’s jaw.
WHAM!
Jo Gul took the blow square on the chin and collapsed where he stood without even a chance to scream.
Yu I-seol, who had been aiming for Chung Myung’s back, gritted her teeth.
She had thought the two of them had timed their joint attack perfectly, but Jo Gul had already crumpled before she could even drive her sword in. She kicked her light-footwork to the limit and rushed forward, then without the slightest hesitation thrust her sword toward Chung Myung’s back.
The blade, packed with terrifying sword qi, came in mercilessly.
That was when it happened.
Grab.
Chung Myung seized Jo Gul by the collar as he fell, then kicked his legs up. In an instant, their positions were reversed, and Jo Gul’s body suddenly appeared in front of Yu I-seol’s sword.
“Gah!”
Yu I-seol flinched and hurriedly twisted her blade.
So startled was she that a low sound slipped from her lips—her lips, which rarely let out even the faintest groan.
Shriek!
The desperately twisted sword narrowly scraped past Jo Gul’s side. Had she been a fraction of a second slower, even a wooden sword would have punched a hole clean through him.
But there was no time to feel relieved.
CRACK!
With a heavy impact, Jo Gul’s body slammed into Yu I-seol. Her eyes trembled for a moment. If she dodged the unconscious Jo Gul, he’d be badly hurt; if she took him in, she feared what Chung Myung might do to the man behind him.
But she didn’t need to think long.
Whoosh!
Because before Jo Gul’s body could even fully reach her, Chung Myung had already rushed in and kicked her in the solar plexus.
WHAM!
Yu I-seol’s body flew away like a pinwheel hit by a typhoon.
“You… damn it!”
The one who charged in cursing was none other than Hye Yeon. His eyes bloodshot in a way utterly unlike a monk’s, he closed the distance in an instant and swung his fist like a demon.
Shaolin’s Arhat Fist.
Righteous, upright, and above all faithful to fundamentals—the very center of all fist techniques under heaven—Arhat Fist came flying at Chung Myung’s head wrapped in killing intent.
Chung Myung turned that cold gaze on him, extended his wooden sword, and stepped back one pace.
And then.
Fwoooooosh!
For an instant, the sword seemed to split into dozens, and countless streams of sword qi poured down on Hye Yeon. From dozens to hundreds, from hundreds to an uncountable flood—it all took nothing more than a moment.
Hye Yeon’s eyes flew wide open.
Arhat Fist was a martial art grounded in heaviness. The heavier it was, the harder it was to change. And now, in an instant, so many sword qi strikes were crashing down that his hands and feet were thrown into disarray.
If it had been Gwaneum Hand, he could have handled it without much trouble—but he had no time to shift the qi of Arhat Fist already gathered in his body into Gwaneum Hand.
“Kuh!”
Hye Yeon clenched his teeth and swung his fist.
I can block it…
Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak!
At that very moment, the incoming sword qi slammed repeatedly into the wrist he had thrust out.
Hye Yeon’s face twisted horribly.
Not from pain. Because he knew that if those had been real swords instead of wooden ones, his wrist would already have been reduced to tatters.
“Aaaaaaaaah!”
Hye Yeon pulled back the fist he had extended and stamped down with a solid stance. In an instant, his body was wrapped in a brilliant golden Buddhist radiance.
But.
Thud!
Blood surged from Hye Yeon’s mouth.
Chung Myung’s sword was already pressing down on his dantian. Hye Yeon thought Chung Myung’s emotionless eyes seemed to gaze at him with cold reproach.
“Khk.”
The moment Hye Yeon began to drop to one knee, Chung Myung spun around and drove a kick into his jaw.
WHAM!
Hye Yeon flew like an arrow and crashed into the wall beyond the training ground.
Chung Myung lowered his foot, frowned, and opened his mouth.
“Now…”
“Not yet!”
At the sound of the voice, Chung Myung turned his head.
Baek Cheon was staggering toward him, blood pouring from his mouth.
“Not… yet. Not yet…”
His hand gripping the wooden sword was trembling violently.
Even someone picking up a real sword for the first time wouldn’t shake like that. His swollen face, the blood running down it, and the way his body trembled as he struggled to hold himself together all made it plain: Baek Cheon had already pushed past his limit.
But Chung Myung didn’t show him the slightest consideration.
Whoosh!
Chung Myung shot toward Baek Cheon like a streak of lightning.
At the same time, a bright, murderous light flooded Baek Cheon’s eyes.
“Hraaah!”
His sword burst forth with red plum blossoms, one after another. So vivid it was almost shocking—where in that body did he still have enough energy left for this?
But what Baek Cheon saw next was far different from what he had expected.
Chung Myung, flying straight at him, didn’t swing his sword. Instead, he thrust out his left hand—the one not holding the blade.
His reddened left palm drew a clear plum blossom pattern in the air, then immediately knocked the plum blossoms Baek Cheon had made cleanly upward.
“Kuh!”
At the instant Chung Myung’s throat was exposed, Baek Cheon reflexively thrust his sword in. But Chung Myung simply watched the movement, and when the sword was nearly at his throat, he casually tilted his head.
Grab.
Then he seized Baek Cheon’s sword wrist and flipped it upward in one motion.
“K-guh!”
Baek Cheon’s body twisted as his wrist was completely turned over.
Chung Myung’s emotionless eyes stared at Baek Cheon, who was gritting his teeth. Even in his distorted expression, there was still plenty of will to keep fighting in Baek Cheon’s eyes.
But.
WHAM!
Chung Myung’s fist smashed into Baek Cheon’s face.
WHAM!
Again.
WHAM!
Again.
The moment Baek Cheon’s body began to collapse like rotten straw, Chung Myung kicked him in the chest and sent him flying.
Baek Cheon flew away limp as a corpse and smashed into the ground. But none of those standing in the training ground went to help him.
“What the hell are you idiots doing?”
The instant Chung Myung roared, the ones still holding their swords from behind clenched their teeth and rushed him all at once.
“Aaaaaah!”
“Die, you bastard!”
Chung Myung’s gaze turned cold. He bared his teeth and leaped into the charging mass, swinging his sword.
BOOM!
Three people were knocked flying in an instant, spraying blood as they went.
Chung Myung twisted his neck to dodge a sword aimed at his head, then reached out and seized one disciple by the throat.
“Ghk!”
Still holding him aloft, he surged forward and repeatedly stabbed the man’s stomach with the wooden sword. The one taking over ten strikes at once rolled his eyes back.
Spinning around, Chung Myung hurled the disciple he was holding at the others chasing him from behind.
The moment the charging disciples leaped left and right to avoid him, Chung Myung’s sword drew red plum blossoms through the air one after another.
The result hardly needed saying.
“Aaaaaaaah!”
Then Gwak Hoe, who had been waiting for an opening, seized the moment and rushed Chung Myung. The instant he tried to unleash the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Art, Chung Myung’s wooden sword slammed into his shoulder and held it fast.
Crunch!
“Urk…”
Gwak Hoe’s eyes bloodshot from pain.
But Chung Myung twisted his face as though Gwak Hoe’s suffering meant nothing to him.
Thud!
Then he stamped on Gwak Hoe’s foot to pin him in place. Chung Myung’s shoulder slammed into Gwak Hoe’s chest a heartbeat later.
WHAM!
Unable to even be flung free because his foot was pinned, Gwak Hoe collapsed right there. As his consciousness began to slip away, Chung Myung’s shout stabbed viciously into his ears.
“If wanting it was enough to win, why would anybody bother training, you idiot?”
Thump.
Chung Myung looked down at Gwak Hoe, who had finally fallen, then lifted his head.
“…”
The ones facing him trembled and couldn’t bring themselves to charge recklessly.
Who among them didn’t know Chung Myung was strong?
But there was an absurd gulf between knowing that strength as an ally and feeling it as an enemy.
The mere meeting of eyes made their knees go weak, and their hearts chilled as if they’d fallen into an ice cave.
“Next.”
Chung Myung’s blunt voice fell like stone.
Mount Hua’s disciples were always full of fighting spirit, yet none of them could easily charge a Chung Myung like this. They only circled like stray dogs around a tiger, growling and sizing him up.
Watching them with dark eyes, Chung Myung’s mouth twisted upward. He was just about to sneer when—
scrape, scrape, scrape.
The sound of someone dragging a foot caught Chung Myung’s attention.
Jo Gul, using his wooden sword like a cane, came into view—staggering forward with visible effort.
The moment their eyes met, Jo Gul grinned. Seeing those teeth stained thick with blood, the corners of Chung Myung’s mouth also curled just a little.
“You’re nowhere near done, you bastard.”
Yu I-seol, who had been down as well, suddenly sprang back to her feet. For a moment she seemed dazed, looking around as if she couldn’t quite process the situation, but then her gaze fixed on Chung Myung.
Fwoosh!
Immediately, a terrifying surge of momentum burst from her body.
Jo Gul, Dang Soso, Yoon Jong, and Gwak Hoe—who had already gotten back up—also gritted their teeth and advanced, surrounding Chung Myung.
And then.
Thud.
Baek Cheon, his face a swollen, blood-soaked mess, also rose, driving his sword down as he did.
Baek Cheon’s gaze lifted upward. The sun was high in the sky.
It’s still a long way till sunset.
Which meant he could do this at least a dozen more times.
“Heh…”
Baek Cheon gripped the wooden sword so tightly it looked ready to snap and took a step toward Chung Myung with a grotesque smile.
If once wasn’t enough, then ten times. If ten wasn’t enough, then a hundred.
All he had to do was fight a thousand times, ten thousand times, and again and again. Sooner or later, he would reach the moment he wanted.
“Kill him!”
With Baek Cheon’s shout, the Mount Hua disciples who had been hesitating all roared and charged at Chung Myung.
“Haaaah!”
“Diiiiie!”
Chung Myung’s eyes sank as he watched the Mount Hua disciples hurl themselves at him with every ounce of their strength.
“You brats…”
He reversed his grip on the wooden sword, and his eyes turned icy. Slowly, he lowered his body.
A moment later, his form turned into a beam of light and shot toward Baek Cheon.