Chapter 156
Chapter 156
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 156
>Chapter Title: Rescue (1)
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“Shut up!”
After a brief moment of deliberation, Il-mok shouted into the empty air like a madman and hurled himself toward them.
“As expected, you’re Demonic Cult bastards!!”
“You shut your mouth, you lunatic!”
The two bandits flanked him from left and right, swinging their curved swords at him.
Rather than pulling back to dodge the curved swords, Il-mok boldly took another step forward.
But for some reason, there was no sword in his hand.
‘If I don’t feel like drawing my sword, then I just won’t!’
In an instant, Il-mok sheathed his sword and recalled the various martial arts he had witnessed so far.
The Asura Blood Fist of Demonic Path Academy Lord Yeom Ga-hwi that he had recently encountered, or the Black Thunder Demon Palm of Chu Il-hwan that he had directly clashed with.
Even Jin Ha-yeon’s Bare Hand Demon Art, with which he had sparred hundreds of times before entering the Demonic Path Academy, and Hyeok-ryeon Seon-a’s Blood Fox Crimson Claw Art.
Among the many bare-handed martial arts he could deploy, the one Il-mok chose was the Bare Hand Demon Art.
However, it wasn’t a perfect imitation of the Bare Hand Demon Art. Il-mok didn’t handle yin energy to begin with, so perfectly replicating it was nearly impossible.
‘If I gained insights from swordsmanship in fist techniques, then the reverse should be possible too!’
Il-mok mimicked the form of the technique Jin Ha-yeon had displayed, but infused it with his own insights.
In a flash, Il-mok slipped between the two bandits, his hands targeting their openings.
Thud!
With just one exchange, Il-mok sealed the pressure points of both men using the Golden Crow Hand Technique and looked around.
The battle was flowing quite favorably.
Though they were outnumbered more than two-to-one, with each of them facing two or three foes, the skill gap was significant.
The bandits had trained in martial arts, but they were no match for demonic arts.
The only ones struggling a bit were the academy disciples, who were still low in cultivation and short on real combat experience.
Slash!
A chilling sound rang out, and a man whose something had been severed let out a horrific scream.
“Gaaahhh!”
Instructor So-hong looked down at the man with a sneering expression.
“Not all that impressive, are you?”
Il-mok, who had been casually scanning the surroundings, suddenly felt his groin shrink involuntarily.
‘D-did I almost end up like that on that night?’
Memories of So-hong sneaking into his room in the dead of night made cold sweat trickle down his back.
Perhaps the man’s agonized screams over his severed vital parts acted as a trigger.
“R-run away!”
Only after more than half had been slaughtered in that short time did the bandits finally grasp reality and choose to flee.
Il-mok, still clutching his groin, let out a faint sigh at the sight of the fleeing bandits.
“Haa.”
It wasn’t because he pitied their pathetic sight of fleeing before the enemy.
‘Chasing them sounds like such a hassle.’
Unwilling to break a sweat with lightness skill, Il-mok hurriedly assumed a stance.
The starting stance of the Asura Blood Fist that Academy Lord Yeom Ga-hwi had once demonstrated.
Infusing it with the subtleties of speed he had learned from the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword, Il-mok alternated left and right fists at tremendous speed, unleashing waves of fist wind one after another.
Bam-bam-bam!
Followed by the sounds of impacts, several of the fleeing bandits tumbled across the sand dunes.
But those struck by Il-mok got off lightly.
The White Claw Unit members swung their weapons into the air, various energies weaving through it to sever the legs or necks of the escapees.
“Phew.”
Just as Il-mok sighed in relief upon confirming not a single one had escaped.
“Hahaha! Splendid work!”
The White Claw Unit leader, who had beheaded the bandit chief, approached Il-mok with hearty laughter.
His face full of curiosity, he asked Il-mok.
“But aren’t you an academy disciple who trains in swordsmanship? Why resort to fist techniques?”
At the question, Il-mok pondered for a very brief moment.
‘If I say it’s to avoid enlightenment, they’ll think I’m insane, right?’
For those who trained in martial arts, what could be more precious than enlightenment?
‘I’ve been called crazy a few times at the Demonic Path Academy too.’
Il-mok himself now knew how foolish that sounded.
Thus, after a short deliberation, he came up with a very useful answer.
“Because they weren’t even worth drawing my sword for.”
An arrogant nonsense that even the Demonic Cult’s madmen would accept.
“…….”
“…….”
The moment Il-mok’s arrogant reply ended, a sudden silence blanketed the area.
The one who broke the awkward silence was the White Claw Unit leader who had asked the question.
“Hahaha. If any other academy disciple had said that, I’d have given them a thorough scolding, but since it’s you, I’ll let it slide this time.”
It wasn’t because Il-mok was the Heavenly Demon’s disciple.
He turned his gaze, sweeping over the bandits sprawled on the ground.
“You subdued this many foes without even using your sword.”
There was no reason to lecture someone who had proven his arrogance with skill.
Instead of nagging, he suddenly burst into relieved laughter.
“Hahaha. Truth be told, I was a bit worried. I wondered if you used fists because you feared killing.”
The leader, having surveyed all the bandits groaning on the ground, turned with a smiling face to look at Il-mok.
“These are wicked men who killed the powerless and stole what was precious. How can we properly carry out our Divine Cult’s will if we hesitate to kill the likes of them? Hahaha. But my worries were unfounded—truly fortunate.”
The White Claw Unit leader was still smiling, but Il-mok felt an inexplicable chill.
‘So it was a test.’
It felt dangerous.
Honestly, avoiding killing was one of the reasons he hadn’t drawn his sword.
Since being dragged here by his master, he had indirectly been involved in killings or witnessed deaths, but Il-mok had yet to kill anyone with his own hands.
While Il-mok inwardly sighed in relief.
In the distance, sand dust swirled as a group came rushing over.
They were Demonic Cult members who had spotted the green smoke from the White Claw leader’s signal flare.
Among them, the most striking reaction came from Dokgo Pae.
“No way!!”
He looked as if the sky had fallen, utterly dejected.
“You damned bastards, get back up! Give me a chance at real combat!!”
It was a scene straight out of madness.
Whether Dokgo Pae was spouting nonsense or not.
“Where are you from?”
The joined White Claw Unit members hauled up the fallen bandits and began interrogations.
In a way, it was thanks to Il-mok.
Because he had fought only with the Golden Crow Hand Technique and fists, quite a few had been subdued without being killed.
Right after the simple interrogations ended.
Slash.
The White Claw Unit members severed the necks of the bandits who had truthfully spilled their information.
It was only natural.
There was no reason to forgive bandits who tormented the common folk. They were disciples of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, not Shaolin monks pursuing non-killing.
Having finished the interrogations and massacre, the White Claw Unit leader clicked his tongue lightly.
“Tch. These ones fled from the Central Plains too.”
“The Central Plains commoners are truly pitiable. To think they clashed territories with scum like this—no way they were good folk who cared for the people, right?”
At the deputy leader’s response, who had led his squad to join, the leader nodded with a regretful expression.
“We must hurry back to the Central Plains and save the commoners.”
“This is all because of the Central Plains’ villains, Leader.”
With their conversation ended, everyone present turned eastward with expressions mixed of pity and rage.
Toward the Central Plains, home to its massive clans and sects—and above all, the imperial court that had branded them traitorous rebels.
In that atmosphere thick with resolve, only Il-mok struggled to keep a straight face.
‘Crazy cultists.’
If they caught even a whiff of his true thoughts, his head would roll just like those bandits’.
* * *
After fully cleaning up the battlefield.
‘Still, it’s all over now, right?’
Il-mok was already wearing a beaming smile.
It wasn’t just because he had averted the crisis of his thoughts being exposed.
In merely four days since setting out on this training mission, they had dealt with the target bandits.
With the objective cleared, they just needed to return to the Demonic Path Academy, right?
Il-mok’s hopes were utterly shattered.
“Since the mission ended sooner than expected, we’ll patrol the surroundings for the remaining period.”
At the White Claw Unit leader’s order, they finished tidying the battlefield and set off once more.
Not toward the west where the Heavenly Myriad Mountains lay, but south.
But the mood was markedly different from before.
With no urgent business, they weren’t pushing lightness skill or galloping horses at full speed like earlier, giving both White Claw Unit members and academy disciples some leisure.
“Hahaha. So, after graduating the Demonic Path Academy, do you plan to join the Martial Force Unit?”
“Hmm. How about our White Claw Unit? We still have two spots open, so we need to fill them soon.”
“It would be an infinite honor to serve alongside seniors like you!”
Perhaps due to the leisure. Unlike before, they chatted freely even while on the move.
The most common conversations were the unit members’ ploys to recruit the academy disciples into the White Claw Unit.
“Watching you these past few days, your lightness skill still seems a bit lacking. I didn’t train in the exact same one, but let me give you some pointers.”
There were also members offering advice on martial arts or life in the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
Of course, after giving advice, they’d say the same thing.
“How about it? Join our White Claw Unit after graduating. I’ll give you extra guidance. Hahaha.”
Thanks to conversations echoing everywhere, the atmosphere seemed fairly jovial, but some were ignored.
The White Claw Unit members weren’t mindlessly chatting up every disciple.
Over the past few days of observation, they were targeting those who seemed skilled or tenacious enough.
Thus, lower-ranked disciples from E Class were mostly out of consideration.
“I’ve long heard of your renowned name, Senior! I’ve always wanted a chance to talk with you!”
Some disciples even proactively approached the White Claw Unit members.
Conversely, most A Class disciples were prime recruitment targets, but the members were hitting snags in the process.
“Eek!!”
Some couldn’t even exchange a word, freaking out at the mere approach.
“What do you think of our White Claw Unit….”
“Sorry, but I’ve already decided to bury my bones in the Silver Shadow Pavilion!”
“Huh. With skills good enough for A Class, Silver Shadow Pavilion seems hasty.”
“It’s not hasty! My heart is steadfast. I aim only to become Young Master Il-mok’s maidservant!”
No matter what was said, one odd disciple kept repeating her desire to be Il-mok’s maidservant.
“Ohohohoho!”
“As expected of Mi-hwa!”
Others just bragged about themselves regardless of surroundings, along with their best friend.
Even one top A Class disciple with excellent grades was avoided by the members, though.
The problem was that, despite their efforts to ignore her, she came to them.
“Senior! The road is boring—how about a spar?”
Though they tried to dodge, her persistence made the White Claw Unit members sigh involuntarily.
The firstborn of a famed house, notorious for his domineering personality. Someone who’d bring trouble if recruited—despite his outstanding skill, they couldn’t bring themselves to try.
While the White Claw Unit members mingled with, recruited, or avoided Demonic Path Academy disciples to pass the time.
Their gazes often turned somewhere.
For among the twenty-odd disciples, the biggest catch was elsewhere.
As if sensing the White Claw Unit members’ hopes, the leader soon moved.
Toward Il-mok, who was dozing on horseback, snoring.
And at the leader’s blatant movement.
Grrrrumble.
One female instructor’s stomach began to rumble.