Chapter 143
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 143
Chapter Title: Letting Loose (3)
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Hmph.
Mujin stopped around then.
‘This won’t do.’
-Indeed.
The mountain was far too narrow to unleash his full power. He’d need at least one of the Five Great Peaks for it to feel satisfying to shatter. He vowed not to use his full strength around the mountains near his home if possible.
A~~~~!
Taejin, Cheol-ho, Narung, and Yukchil stood there with their mouths agape. They watched in fascination when Mujin brought them out to show off something on a whim. But when the mythic demon armor clashed once with Mujin and the ridgeline vanished, they couldn’t hold back their shock.
‘Father, what the hell is that?!’
‘Is that the power of the Mythic Demon Armor?’
‘Even so, that’s too much!’
‘Master isn’t human!’
No one could tell if that was even his full power—it was just a single clash. But one thing was certain: no normal person could survive taking that hit.
How should he even describe the scene unfolding before their eyes?
It was One Strike, Mountain Collapse incarnate.
Martial arts technique names often carried a touch of exaggeration, but this captured the raw impact perfectly. That was a true mountain-shattering punch. Anything else claiming to be a mountain-breaking move could be dismissed as mere fantasy.
“What are you all doing?!”
“Huh?”
“Fill it in.”
“Huh?”
“Let’s love nature.”
Sure, they could love nature. But he was the one who broke it—why dump it on them?! There was plenty to say, but Mujin chalked it up to training.
“Call it training. Anyone with objections, I’m happy to have a deep conversation.”
“……!”
As if anyone would object. A second “deep conversation” would mean a fierce showdown with the King of Hell.
The landscape of the martial world had long been shaped primarily by the righteous factions. Over time, the demonic paths revived, and the unorthodox expanded their influence.
The demonic paths were branded as forces to be exterminated and driven beyond the Qiang River, but the unorthodox had roots sunk deep from the ground up over centuries.
Those unorthodox sects banded together to form Black Dragon Fortress.
Centering around Black Dragon Fortress, the unorthodox expanded their power to stand against the righteous. When the righteous finally took notice, the benefits of all-out war were divided among them.
Black Dragon Fortress exploited those cracks to achieve its current prosperity.
Yet the current martial world wasn’t centered on Black Dragon Fortress. The unorthodox had merely carved out their domain in a world still dominated by the righteous.
They’d reached a compromise at an appropriate line neither would cross. The massive bloodshed from the past demonic war played a big role. No need to stir trouble and invite internal chaos.
Gushan Hall.
The Pine Tiger Sect had long represented Cheongyang County, but after Black Dragon Fortress took root, Gushan Hall grew by expanding its influence.
With Black Dragon Fortress’s backing, Gushan Hall swelled in size and recruited martial artists. As a result, its fame surpassed the Pine Tiger Sect’s in Cheongyang alone.
To the wider martial world, it was a petty squabble over a small county. But to those involved, it felt different. That tiny spark of pride made them itch to devour each other.
A guest visited the hall leader’s chamber in Gushan Hall.
“You want to do business?”
“Wouldn’t it benefit us both down the line?”
“Or maybe you’re trying to gut my hall with a knife.”
“If the Pine Tiger Sect grows, it’ll threaten Gushan Hall too.”
Gushan Hall Leader Mok Jin-san wasn’t thrilled with the proposal but agreed to cooperate. It was something that needed doing anyway, and strange rumors had been circulating lately. Cheongyang was small, but developing with a bright future. Still too small to share, though.
Of course, he wouldn’t act on words alone. He needed some justification. A minor clash giving the righteous an excuse would be trouble.
After the guest left, a young man entered the chamber.
“You’re back.”
“I’m late, Father.”
The young man was Mok Jin-san’s direct son, Mok Ak-jin, the young hall leader of Gushan Hall.
Sent to Black Dragon Fortress seven years ago, he’d finally returned—as leader of the Crimson Blood Squad, a strike force under the fortress. No small achievement. Enough for Gushan Hall to gain some favor there.
Mok Jin-san explained the guest’s proposal to his son.
“What do you think?”
“Not bad. Though I don’t love being used as their blade.”
“That’s my dilemma. It’d be nice to saddle them with a debt, but striking blindly is risky with those rumors unverified.”
“He just got lucky and scraped up some minor fame. People don’t change.”
Mok Ak-jin had heard the rumors on his way in. Sure, pivotal moments could change a man, but trash stayed trash. Know your place. And he’d become appetizing prey. With that much funding, he could threaten Gushan Hall. Better to uproot the sprout before it grows.
“Leave it to me. I’ll handle it.”
“No need to rush.”
Mujin took some rare time to stroll the village with his wife. He wanted to go on a proper outing somewhere far, but the Pine Tiger Sect wouldn’t run without her. He needed to drag that guy back and plant him as chief steward ASAP, but the timing was off.
“You’ve had it rough while I was gone. I’ll assign someone soon.”
“I’m fine. It hasn’t been hard at all.”
“It’ll be tougher alone once we scale up.”
“Can I pick later after seeing them?”
“Of course. You’ll be satisfied.”
A genius like her wouldn’t lack for options. She could run the Pine Tiger Sect solo for now, but as it grew in size and power, no. Mujin had handled it all himself so far and was picky, but he had to delegate. Otherwise, no personal life.
‘No lone warrior life for me!’
Mujin had no plans to overextend for growth, but he had to follow the trend. Disciples were advancing; staying a small sect was tough. He’d misjudged this.
Especially with roads paving Cheongyang and ports developing, commerce boomed. Her family’s Baemun Merchant Group jumped in. That’s why his father-in-law visited—to secure funds.
“I’ll buy you something tasty.”
“I like beef noodle soup.”
Not far from the sect was a noodle specialist. Plain compared to big-city spots, but famous in Cheongyang. Something special about it. No fancy ingredients, yet packed. The noodles and broth alone rivaled Anhui’s best.
Lunch hour had passed.
He’d timed it that way. No seats at peak times. The Pine Tiger Sect’s name could snag one, but she didn’t like that.
Still, a table lingered today. Four men with noodles and booze. Odd, since Cheongyang Pavilion didn’t sell alcohol.
As Mujin felt a twinge entering, he asked his wife.
“Somewhere else?”
“Sure.”
Tasty or not, no need for potential trouble. Cheongyang was quiet, but eateries and inns bred incidents.
Mujin loved that about his wife. They just clicked without words.
Turning at the entrance, one man at the table called out presumptuously.
“Well, if it isn’t... You’ve changed a lot. Snubbing an old acquaintance? That stings.”
“……?”
Why act familiar with a face he didn’t recall? Glancing back soured his mood instantly. No name came, but bad vibes.
Whoosh!
He might take offense at being ignored, but this was rare time with his wife. No wasting it on drama. Pretend not to hear, walk out.
He didn’t want even a second wasted from golden time with her. Next time he butted in, deal with it then—or not. Life would teach him. No need for friends. Family first.
“Gained a speck of fame lately and you dare ignore me?!”
The guy chased out as Mujin left with his wife, spouting clichés. Classic: old loser resenting being ignored now. Mentioning fame sealed it.
‘I was a loser back then too.’
He admitted it.
If he’d rubbed elbows with that loser, he was one too. Anyway, ignoring got harder now.
“Gushan Hall’s young leader, Mok Ak-jin. Went to Black Dragon Fortress, became Crimson Blood Squad leader. Back recently, huh.”
“Oh, yeah.”
Her insight and memory were stunning. No clue when she’d seen him, but she knew his background cold.
Come to think of it, an unpleasant old memory surfaced.
‘Beat again.’
-How’s your past just a trail of beatings?
No rebuttal to the Demon King’s jab. Facts were facts. Back then, a drunken spat with this guy during drinks. Got utterly humiliated.
His fault mostly. Didn’t read the room, overstepped. Deserved the beating. Lucky to live.
Alive now, so he’d spare him this time.
“Long time. What brings you here? Not even Gushan Hall turf.”
“So this is Pine Tiger Sect turf?”
“We agreed, right? Split it half and half.”
“Fleeing like you don’t know me, and now you’ve got a mouth?”
Guy came picking a fight. Otherwise, wouldn’t grab a passerby. Plus, his clan managed this area. Chasing here meant no easy escape.
“So what’s your point?! Picking fights over ignoring you looks bad.”
“More like, that booze tab from years back racked up.”
“Booze tab?”
“Smashed a bottle face-planting my table. Don’t play dumb. Better for your health if you remember.”
Years-old incident, fuzzy memory, and now demanding payment? Ridiculous.
“How much?”
“Hundred taels at least. Been a while.”
Hundred silver taels wasn’t crippling, but back then? Under two. Even with interest, highway robbery.
“Hey, what kind of math is that? If you’re grasping at straws, we’ll formally protest Gushan Hall!”
“No place for a wench. Unless you fancy me?”
That moment.
Mujin became a streak of light.
Gurk!
Someone’s throat was seized, slammed face-first into the ground. His face burrowed in, body sprawled. Then the three idiots standing nearby spun like tops, flying off in three directions.
Crash crash crash!
Silence fell over the sudden chaos.
“Say that again!”
Face planted in the dirt!