Bluffing (1)
Thanks to the rumor that Cheonri Escort Agency and Paeng Family's Fourth Young Master were transporting the Qingming Pill, all eyes had turned this way. Someone must have calmly delivered the real one to the Henan Jeong Family.
That was Ice Blood Scholar's deduction.
He had bundled the Cold Iron Box in cloth and tossed them all away during his escape, but he was carrying one now.
This was his lifeline.
If someone demanded the Qingming Pill, he would throw them the box in his hand.
And sure enough.
One of those who spotted the Shanxi Three Fiends shouted.
"The real Qingming Pill is there!"
That had been just moments ago.
The chase had continued since then, and now the Shanxi Three Fiends were cornered at a sheer cliff, unable to move.
Amid the tightening encirclement, Ice Blood Scholar muttered lowly.
"That damn bastard!"
"You're right. That guy's suited for the Nine Hells—or worse."
Meat Flayer Youngster chimed in.
The target of their curses was, of course, Hanbin.
Black-Clothed Killing Wind silently observed the approaching unorthodox warriors.
Cornered like this?
It felt like a vicious plot to uproot the unorthodox factions entirely.
Once this was over, it seemed like at least twenty percent of the northern unorthodox forces would vanish.
Black-Clothed Killing Wind even suspected it was a scheme by the Justice Alliance leadership.
The bad luck clinging to them now was uncanny—half the unorthodox warriors who had come to steal the elixir from Yeongdan Mountain seemed gathered here.
Ice Blood Scholar eyed their weapons closely.
As expected, they hailed from different sects.
Then, Hanbin's face—the one he'd been cursing moments ago—flashed in Ice Blood Scholar's mind.
What would Hanbin do in this situation?
To overcome this crisis?
He needed to be bolder.
Ice Blood Scholar stepped forward, holding the Cold Iron Box.
Thud, thud.
Stopping midway between the Shanxi Three Fiends and the unorthodox warriors, Ice Blood Scholar set the box on the ground.
Murmurs erupted from all sides.
"What the hell is he doing?"
"Has Ice Blood Scholar lost his mind?"
"Is he giving up the Qingming Pill just like that?"
As everyone exchanged glances with their allies, Ice Blood Scholar called out lowly.
"We Shanxi Three Fiends may be renowned masters even among the unorthodox!"
Emphasizing his final words, he scanned the surroundings.
The area fell silent.
As all eyes converged, Ice Blood Scholar continued smoothly.
"If you all rush us at once, we can't win. So here's my proposal: why not let the strongest among you claim this Cold Iron Box?"
Pointing at the box on the ground, Ice Blood Scholar looked around, and murmurs rose again.
"Divide it by strength?"
"Is he suggesting a martial tournament right here?"
"Does that even make sense?"
Ice Blood Scholar spoke.
"Just as you all say—let's hold a little tournament here. The strong claiming treasure is the law of the jianghu. And if we turn blades on each other here, the unorthodox forces weaken—it's obvious. We'd be handing hegemony to the orthodox sects!"
Ice Blood Scholar emphasized each word, veins bulging in his neck as he persuaded them.
It was a speech with clear justification.
"Makes sense."
"True, no matter who takes the Qingming Pill, northern unorthodox power diminishes."
"If we all wear masks, compete, and those here acknowledge the winner's claim... it could work."
Everyone nodded.
Ice Blood Scholar swallowed a sigh of relief inwardly.
His plan, inspired by Hanbin, had worked perfectly.
As Ice Blood Scholar relaxed, one unorthodox warrior stepped forward.
"A tournament? Fine. But who guarantees the winner gets full ownership afterward?"
"What do you mean?"
"Think about it. After the tournament and a winner's declared, what if another sect shows up? Would they honor it?"
"..."
Ice Blood Scholar narrowed his eyes at the man.
The objection was valid.
Ice Blood Scholar had planned to slip away quietly after proposing it.
But now a saboteur had appeared.
Frowning, Ice Blood Scholar retorted.
"So you want us to fight until our arms are severed and heads roll?"
"No. But there's no rule saying only the strongest gets it, right?"
"What are you—"
Before Ice Blood Scholar finished, the man snatched the Cold Iron Box from the ground.
Whoosh!
Retreating, he shouted.
"Like this!"
All the unorthodox warriors moved at once.
The others weren't pushovers either.
They swiftly blocked the man with the box.
Surrounded layer upon layer, the man unhesitatingly hurled the box high.
"The strong claiming treasure is the law of the jianghu! Survival of the fittest! Treasure belongs to the strong!"
Throwing the box skyward, he darted back.
The unorthodox mob drew their weapons.
Shing! Shing!
Ice Blood Scholar stared at the man in disbelief.
They could have settled ownership without bloodshed, letting the Shanxi Three Fiends escape unharmed. But he'd sabotaged it without even claiming it himself.
"That crazy bastard..."
Ice Blood Scholar trailed off.
During his exchange with the man, a familiar face had suddenly come to mind.
Who is it? That voice... I've heard it somewhere before.
As Ice Blood Scholar tilted his head, watching him.
The man's movements were odd.
He wasn't aligned with any group, stabbing with a dagger here and there.
It seemed aimed at wounding, not killing.
Ice Blood Scholar halted his doubts, planning to slip away in the chaos.
But the situation wasn't that easy.
The fight had erupted, but the encirclement held.
As Ice Blood Scholar paused to assess, Meat Flayer Youngster asked.
"Brother, why just watch instead of escaping?"
"The problem is, if we move now, every blade turns on us."
At Ice Blood Scholar's words, Meat Flayer Youngster glanced at Black-Clothed Killing Wind.
Black-Clothed Killing Wind nodded.
"Second Brother's right. If we leave before a winner's set, they'll all gang up. They might think we're fleeing with the real Qingming Pill hidden on us."
"Ah."
Meat Flayer Youngster gasped as Ice Blood Scholar tilted his head.
"But that guy's voice from earlier... it rings strangely familiar."
"You mean him?"
"Yes, that man in gray robes—his voice is familiar yet irritatingly off."
"I felt it too. Annoyingly grating, like a thorn in my throat."
Overhearing, Meat Flayer Youngster tilted his head at the man.
To him, he just looked like an ordinary unorthodox warrior.
Clang! Clang!
Weapons clashed as the man moved swiftly.
He sought no kills.
Confirming formulas with Dragon Eye.
Yongrin Sword Art Application Section: Voice (Voice)
The man's identity was Hanbin.
A tournament would reduce the chaos.
That wasn't what Hanbin wanted.
In this melee, he could strike at flickering formulas anytime, but a formal duel would change that.
Reluctantly, he'd opposed Ice Blood Scholar's proposal.
No wonder it grated on him so much.
Hanbin was the one he resented most.
Ignoring the stares, Hanbin thrust his dagger.
He made no unnecessary attacks.
Only toward points where formulas wavered.
Swish!
Yongrin Sword Art Application Section: Momentum (momentum)
He hadn't acquired human-grade formulas, but now he had three from the application section.
Combining with Lightning Flash's utility, Hanbin wove even faster through the unorthodox warriors.
If this were a sect-versus-sect clash, his actions would have been obvious.
But in the chaos of mixed sects, attacking anyone looked natural.
Black-Clothed Killing Wind, watching Hanbin closely, widened his eyes.
Ice Blood Scholar, seeing his slack-jawed shock, asked.
"Brother, what's wrong?"
"I think I know who that guy is."
"Huh? His identity?"
As Ice Blood Scholar squinted, Black-Clothed Killing Wind pointed again.
"That's definitely that demon."
"Demon? What do you—"
Ice Blood Scholar trailed off. Black-Clothed Killing Wind called only one person a demon.
Memories of his recent ordeals flashed by.
In a low voice, he asked.
"You mean Hebei Paeng Family's Fourth Young Master?"
"Who else could be called a demon besides that bastard?"
Black-Clothed Killing Wind nodded.
Ice Blood Scholar, staring at the man, also widened his eyes.
He glimpsed the Fourth Young Master's prowess in his movements through the fray.
They made no sense.
Not disabling foes or drawing blood—just swinging the dagger.
Like a blood-starved demon's play.
Not killing outright, but toying with them like a cat with mice.
Overhearing, Meat Flayer Youngster stood.
Ice Blood Scholar asked.
"Third Brother, what is it?"
"I'll break that bastard's legs."
Meat Flayer Youngster snorted.
Ice Blood Scholar waved him down.
"Don't bother. You'll get taken out before you touch his legs."
He meant it. But Meat Flayer Youngster protested.
"Me? Get taken out? How? He's tired too, isn't he?"
"Does he look tired?"
Ice Blood Scholar pointed at Hanbin.
Hanbin sliced through unorthodox warriors with minimal motion using his dagger.
"Ahem."
Meat Flayer Youngster coughed awkwardly as Ice Blood Scholar continued.
"And the moment you step in, he'll back off and shout."
"What?"
"That we're fleeing with the real Qingming Pill."
"Gasp!"
Meat Flayer Youngster's massive shoulders trembled faintly.
Even simple Meat Flayer Youngster knew Hanbin was capable of it, given his past actions.
The Shanxi Three Fiends had identified Hanbin, but were powerless.
Of course, Hanbin had plans even if they recognized him.
He'd stop collecting formulas but could escape unscathed.
Hanbin turned, meeting Ice Blood Scholar's gaze.
His eyes suggested recognition.
Standing frozen meant he'd grasped the situation.
Hanbin plunged back into the unorthodox throng.
Swish!
Yongrin Sword Art Application Section: Tension (open)