Chapter 110
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 110
Chapter Title: Internal Strife (4)
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Twitch!
A deep furrow etched itself between Tang Baekgi's brows.
The moment he'd scolded them to stop, they'd denied it outright. It was absurd. This was outright disdain, nothing less. His bewilderment swiftly turned to rage. This wasn't just anywhere—it was the Tang Clan's inner courtyard, where the Ghost King Hand had been insulted.
"Are you ignoring me right now?!"
"Anyone would think my disciples started it. They struck first, and when it didn't work, they all ganged up. And you're telling me to hold back? My disciples aren't enlightened monks who've attained Buddhahood. Besides, a few more hits won't kill them."
"This is the Tang Clan! Do you think you can act however you please?!"
"So this is the Tang Clan's hospitality."
Far from reconciliation, Mujin didn't hesitate to provoke.
Tang Baekgi, who had never faced such blatant disregard in his life, felt a mix of astonishment and fury. Even without belonging to the Six Great Sects or Seven Great Families, the name Ghost King Hand was renowned as a master of hand techniques. The Tang Clan's backing aside, no one dared treat him with such contempt.
'What the hell does this guy have to back him up?!'
He'd heard the man possessed some treasure. But even so, to rampage fearlessly in the Tang Clan's own home—it was proof their prestige had hit rock bottom.
"You can start trouble. But can you handle the aftermath?"
"The clan head and elders have stayed silent this whole time. Maybe this racket hasn't reached their ears."
Tremble!
As if that could be true.
This wasn't some external brawl—it was in the True Origin Hall. Claiming they couldn't hear it was tantamount to calling the entire Tang Clan deaf idiots.
"We treated you as a guest, and now your arrogance pierces the heavens. Let's see if you can say the same after tasting my skills!"
"You should've come at me like that from the start."
They'd come to fight, so why keep testing the waters? No wonder his guts were bold yet tasted bitter.
Tang Baekgi hadn't thought Mujin had come just to exchange greetings. Like most who visited the True Origin Hall, they doubted Mujin's feat of subduing the Tang Clan's young lord. They spoke of fair sparring, but their true intent was clearly to flaunt the Tang Clan's might.
Whoosh!
Hands thrust forward, instantly weaving a hundred and eight hand shadows to dazzle Mujin's eyes. They were blindingly fast, infused with momentum, blurring feint from truth.
It was Tang Baekgi's signature technique, the Soul-Releasing Ghost Shadow Hand's 108 Torments. Shadows of torment filled the space in an instant, the tips of his fingers gleaming sharply with infused energy.
Boom!
A ferocious roar echoed, and someone was hurled from the explosion's epicenter. Tang Baekgi's pupils trembled rapidly and finely.
It was no different from a sudden ambush. The short distance made response difficult. He'd accounted for a retreat, yet Mujin hadn't dodged—he'd swatted away every hand strike.
His hands trembled.
He hadn't distinguished feint from truth. He'd countered every visible attack. And it wasn't mere counters—he'd infused them with terrifying inner force. The hand wall, tougher than steel, ached. For a split second, his Ghost King True Formula shook, nearly twisting his inner energy flow.
"You're no ordinary foe!"
"You've heard the rumors about me beating Hyunak Sword, right? Surely you weren't complacent? For reference, I'm far stronger than the rumors say."
"Relying on a single trick...!"
He'd baited words to lure an opening.
Mujin charged in instantly. It was despicably cunning. Tang Baekgi was furious but had to brace. Mujin pierced his guard with blinding speed.
Whoosh! Boom boom boom!
Fist and hand arts suited for close quarters traced paths like beams of light. One side was swift and powerful; the other tormented senses with bizarre illusions.
Crack!
Space shattered and tore.
In a flash, thirty exchanges unfolded. Outwardly even, but cracks soon appeared.
Swoosh!
Mujin seized the momentum, thrusting in faster. His speed surged, capturing the Ghost Shadow Hand's ghostly claws.
Tang Baekgi shifted from fingertips to fingers, then rotated via the back of his hand to reverse the trajectory. But before the hand technique completed, it frayed apart.
Mujin struck at the meridian pulses with exquisite precision.
Zing!
Each clash of fist energy and hand energy into a whirlwind battered Tang Baekgi with dizzying shocks. He couldn't shape trajectories as desired. He was being utterly overwhelmed up close.
And then he realized.
'...He's twisting it?'
Mujin's punches were simple—straight thrusts ignoring feints—but hard to react to. Each collision roughly disrupted his energy control.
Mujin's fists increasingly targeted Tang Baekgi's core. Too fast for the eye, yet the gap widened.
'I can't go on like this!'
His hand shadows were being devoured.
For Tang Baekgi, the predator, this was an unprecedented humiliation. He'd never imagined becoming prey.
He hated to admit it, but Mujin was strong. Offense offered no solution. He adjusted his stance, twisting his form.
Slide!
Seizing the split-second gap, he unleashed the Soul-Releasing Ghost Shadow Hand's ultimate, Ghost King Descent.
Weeeeng!
Each fingertip strike rent the air with eerie wails. At last, the Ghost King descended, its maw gaping wide to drag souls to the underworld.
A hand technique amplified explosively with energy.
Tang Baekgi poured everything into it.
Baaaaam!
The True Origin Hall quaked violently, sharp ripples spreading in a circle. Crumbled stone dust swirled briefly in a vortex.
"...Impossible!"
His full-power Ghost King Descent vanished like mist in sunlight. His decades-honed ultimate technique, shattered so easily—it was unbelievable.
Slash, gasp!
Mujin relentlessly targeted the momentarily stunned Tang Baekgi.
He lunged, hand outstretched.
Grip!
Seizing the collar, he flipped heaven and earth.
Kwaaaang!
Breath caught, Tang Baekgi slammed headfirst into the ground. A full-face plant on bare stone—something he'd never endured in his life.
Groooan!
A groan from his lungs brought blood surging up his throat. Reality sinking in, Tang Baekgi thrashed to escape, but Mujin flipped him prone and struck the nape.
Thwack, flop!
Unconscious, Tang Baekgi twitched on the ground like a discarded frog. A sign he still lived, dispelling misunderstandings.
Tap!
Mujin lifted Tang Baekgi, brushed off the dust, straightened his crumpled clothes, and neatly placed him under the eaves—a mark of respect for the defeated.
If no one were watching, he'd have dragged him by the hair to a corner. This was courtesy by Mujin's standards.
"What're you staring at?"
"Isn't that a bit too fearless?"
"What'd I do?"
"Your shamelessness is matchless under heaven!"
It was Dang Yijun, leader of the Verdant Guard Squad.
He'd watched from the start of Tang Baekgi and Mujin's clash. He'd thought the Tang Clan's famed Ghost King Hand among the Ten Tang Elites could match Mujin.
But no!
The Ghost King Hand had unleashed his ultimate and still been one-sidedly crushed. In truth, Mujin had let him exchange a few moves. Had he struck first, it might've ended like the Verdant Guard.
He realized their defeat without lifting a finger wasn't coincidence. The man's prowess was at least mid-Supreme Realm—perhaps higher.
That meant surpassing elders of great sects or clans.
"Rematch would end the same. So, what's up?"
"Even your words are infuriating."
"Don't change the subject. Wasn't me. Satisfied?"
"Really not?"
"Why would I pull that crap? The Tang Clan isn't something I need. Like I said, anyone but Dang Yeon-u, and I wouldn't care."
If someone were deliberately hiding intent, torture might not reveal truth easily. The Tang Clan's famed interrogation arts could twist lies into truth, but...
Dang Yijun sensed Mujin spoke honestly.
And that pissed him off.
Mujin didn't give a damn about the Tang Clan. The current mess proved it. Even if the clan had provoked first, his response was excessive. Considering face, he wouldn't have thrashed Tang Baekgi like that in the front courtyard.
"Because of you, the young lord's punishment is unavoidable."
"Punishment? Just competing for young lord position, right?"
"Trying to make Yeon-u the young lord, maybe?"
"Not quite. Just wanna suck some Tang essence before taking him."
Gasp!
His bluntness left Dang Yijun speechless.
Did he not grasp what he was saying? Yet the sequence fit perfectly. How could he blurt it so casually knowing full well?
"Won't go your way. The former clan head doesn't favor Yeon-u."
"He's in seclusion, right? Same with Nangong Clan—whenever something's off, they call it closed-door training."
"Watch your tongue! You trying to die?!"
"If not, then not. Why snap?"
The Poison King's seclusion had nearly hit five years. Higher realms meant thicker enlightenment walls, taking time—but five years without sight bred suspicions of other issues. Common sense.
Yet in the Tang Clan, no one dared voice it. Even if true, it was taboo.
Mujin, though, brought it up like it was someone else's problem. Either steel-hearted or guts swollen. Too strong for ignorance.
"I can't fathom what gives you such confidence."
"You saw it and still play dumb."
"I know your skills are impressive, but you think you can take on the Tang Clan?"
"Nothing stopping me. If I want, I do. Don't waffle."
Absurd words, yet Dang Yijun felt a chill grip his body. A delusion flashed: the Tang Clan crumbling if made enemy.
"Anyway, your clan's matriarch must be in a pickle. Situation's gotten hilarious. Heh heh heh heh!"
He was gloating over the Tang Clan's woes. Hard to tell if clever or empty-headed now.
'What show am I watching?!'
He'd come to probe rumor sources, but got an eyeful of ugliness. Far from hiding, Mujin was overly frank.
Problem solved? Should feel relieved, but he seethed. Born with a knack for irking others.
"Oh, if an upset happens in the clan contest, might point to issues."
"What're you on about?"
"I spread rumors, but they flew fast. Tight on assassins too. Come to think, Poison King's absence looms larger."
"Enough nonsense."
"Good if not."
He should dismiss it, but Dang Yijun's eye sockets deepened. The clan head had rushed the young lord decision more than usual. Then the former entered seclusion.
Seen then as stabilizing, but could irk. Mere suspicion escalating could stir internal chaos. Tread carefully.
'Don't get dragged in!'
Might be that bastard's ploy.
"Yeon-u as young lord? Fine by me."
...Don't listen!
Openly backing Yeon-u. If scheming, at least be subtle!
"That auntie's got some rot inside. Heh heh heh heh!"
Watching Mujin clutch his belly in vile laughter, Dang Yijun's head throbbed. Should've asked Dang Igun, impervious to bullshit.
But that guy won't budge without clan head's order.
'Damn it all!'