The Unorthodox Factions of Hubei
The tavern descended into immediate pandemonium. Lying a fair distance from the sphere of influence commanded by the Orthodox sects, it was the sort of roadside inn where brawls broke out between unruly unorthodox martial artists on practically a daily basis. While any tavern keeper had to accept a certain degree of ruckus as the price of doing business in these rough borderlands, today's violence was clearly crossing the line.
Tables and chairs splintered into kindling, and the innkeeper's face drained of what little color it had left. At the corner table, Jinyeong, who had been peacefully savoring his warm meal, slammed his porcelain bowl onto the wood.
Clang!
The sudden, sharp percussion drew the brawling thugs up short. Every hostile eye in the room snapped directly toward their table.
Having changed into unassuming traveler's robes during their stop at the Tang Clan, the pair looked no different from ordinary wanderers. Emboldened by that harmless appearance, several scoundrels broke away from the fray and sauntered over, sneering with blatant malice. They wore the sort of obnoxious, insolent smirks that practically begged for a swift beating to beat some manners into them.
"Hey, friend. If you’ve got a problem with us, you should’ve hauled your ass out the door. Why are you still sitting here?"
"I'm already in a foul mood today. You got a death wish? Who gave a nobody like you permission to give us attitu—"
Crack!
Before the scoundrel could finish barking, a chopstick whistled through the air like a crossbow bolt. Ryeong leveled a chilling, razor-sharp gaze at him.
"If you don't want to die, shut your mouth. Can't you see you're ruining my meal?"
"F-Forgive me, Venerable Hero!"
The bamboo chopstick had bored cleanly through a thick timber pillar and buried itself halfway into the plastered brick wall beyond. That level of sheer destructive force was leagues beyond anything an ordinary martial artist could produce.
The thugs who had been squared off against one another froze in their tracks. A cold sweat broke out across their brows as the terrible realization dawned on them: they had unwittingly offended a hidden master who had merely chosen to keep a low profile.
"If you aren't going to fight each other, get lost. Cross my sight again, and I'll kill you all."
"M-Move out, boys!"
"Right! Who gains anything fighting in a dump like this anyway? Let's go, hurry!"
At Ryeong's low, indifferent warning, the ruffians scrambled out the door in total disarray. Yet judging by the sullen venom lingering in their eyes, they were far from thoroughly cowed. It looked rather as though they were swallowing their humiliation just long enough to run and fetch reinforcements.
"Should we really let them run?" Jinyeong murmured. "I fear they will only bring a greater headache back to our doorstep."
"Leave them be. Clowns like that only learn when you break them over a knee. Sure as fate, they're running off to summon their sect leader or branch chief. All we have to do is not be here when they get back."
Ryeong set a piece of silver on the table and stood up.
"Innkeeper. Take this for the food and use whatever remains to repair the damage as you see fit. I doubt we'll be able to stay the night."
"G-Guest... this is far too much silver..."
"Don't worry about it. I have coin to spare. Just take it as a compliment to the chef, so pocket it and keep quiet."
Her pockets were comfortably lined thanks to the lavish travel funds the Tang Clan had pressed into her hands before their departure. At this rate, one might as well call them the endlessly generous Tang Clan.
"Let's move. Linger any longer, and we'll just get tangled in useless trouble."
Having filled his belly, Jinyeong had properly replenished his depleted energy. As a master of the Peak Realm, even a brief spell of rest was enough to bring his body back into fighting shape. Knowing that staying in the tavern would only drag the building into a bloodbath, Ryeong and Jinyeong deliberately took their leave and turned down a shadowy, deserted alleyway.
Sure enough, trouble was not long in coming.
"Chief! That's them!"
The scoundrels who had fled the inn had returned with their main force in tow. Having taken the slight deeply to heart, a dense crowd of heavily armed ruffians swarmed into the narrow alley with furious, murderous scowls.
Jinyeong reached toward the hilt of his sword, but Ryeong held out a slender hand to stop him. There was no reason to waste effort drawing steel against rabble like this.
"If you attack us like this, you're going to regret it terribly. Are you sure you want to do that?"
"Are you the wench who pierced the pillar with a wooden chopstick?"
"What if I am?"
"To dare lay hands on the Blade Ghost Gang... Have you signed your own death warrant?"
A low, rumbling hum echoed through the alley.
As the man presumed to be their gang leader unleashed his inner energy, the surrounding air vibrated violently with heavy, oppressive pressure.
Though it was an unorthodox outfit Jinyeong had never heard of, their leader had attained the Superlative Peak Realm. Taken aback by power far greater than he had anticipated from a backwater street gang, Jinyeong glanced at Ryeong with a hint of concern. Yet the faint, mocking smirk on her lips never wavered.
To her, it was completely laughable.
"The only one sending up a suicide flare right now is you. I warned you that you'd regret this."
"Regret? Hah! I know your sort all too well. Drunk on a bit of petty talent, completely blind to the true heights of—"
"Oh? Keep talking. Drunk on my own power, was it?"
The words died abruptly in the gang leader's throat, his pupils shrinking to needlepoints in sheer horror. Hovering serenely in the air just above Ryeong's forearm was a blade condensed entirely from pure, crystalline qi.
Void Telekinesis.
It was a divine manifestation that no martial artist of the Superlative Peak Realm could ever hope to touch—a miraculous technique granted solely to those who had stepped across the threshold into the Transcendent Realm.
No matter what desperate arts or dirty tricks a Superlative Peak master possessed, they had zero chance of defeating a Transcendent master alone. Only then did the chief comprehend the catastrophic reality: the one making a fatal mistake was himself.
The problem was that the dim-witted underlings at his back possessed next to no understanding of true martial heights. Even with Void Telekinesis manifested right before their eyes, they were stupid enough to continue jeering at Ryeong.
"What are you waiting for, Chief? Show that little girl what we do to outsiders!"
"Sh-Shut your..."
"A slip of a woman like that is nothing before our Chief once he gets seri—"
"Shut your damn mouth, you bastard!"
Smack!
The gang leader whipped around and delivered a vicious, bone-jarring blow to the back of the loudmouth's skull. The sudden, violent strike silenced the alleyway in an instant.
Noticing the temperature in Ryeong's gaze dropping toward freezing, the chief dropped to his knees and threw himself flat against the dirt without a heartbeat's hesitation.
"This blind fool failed to recognize a true titan of the martial world and committed an unforgivable offense! I beg of you, Grandmaster, grant mercy and spare our lives!"
"C-Chief?! Why are you kneeling?!"
"Just who in the world is that woman...?"
"Get on the ground, all of you! Do you want to be slaughtered to the last man right here?!"
Snapped to their senses by their leader's frantic roar, the lackeys clumsily dropped to the cobblestones and pressed their foreheads against the filth. Only now did their survival instincts scream that they were standing at the edge of an abyss.
"Don't you think your wits kicked in a bit late? I'm not in the best of moods right now."
"Whatever you command, this lowly one will carry out without question! Please, only spare our worthless lives!"
"Whatever I command? Can you swear to that?"
"Yes, I swear on my life!"
The mind of Gwi Hu-jin, Chief of the Blade Ghost Gang, was spinning faster than it ever had since the day he was born. Having committed such a colossal insult, his life hung entirely upon the whims of this terrifying young woman. He had to assume the lowest, most obedient posture possible. So long as she didn't order the immediate disbandment of his syndicate, he was prepared to swallow whatever demands she made.
Little did Gwi Hu-jin know that every word pouring from his mouth was dancing straight into Ryeong's calculations.
"Then get on your feet and look at me."
"Yes, Grandmaster."
"You said this was the Blade Ghost Gang, right? Let's head over to your headquarters and have a proper talk. I'd like to learn a bit about the unorthodox factions operating here in Hubei."
Their original destination had been the Mount Wudang Sect, but since circumstances had dragged them into the mire of the local underworld, Ryeong concluded that tidying up the neighborhood scoundrels wouldn't be a bad diversion.
There's no harmonizing the Orthodox and the Unorthodox anyway.
She did not yet know the true scale of the Demon Blood Divine Cult's forces. Yet history had demonstrated time and again that the righteous sects and the evil factions were fundamentally incapable of peace. Even when they temporarily banded together to fend off existential crises like the Blood Cult or the Heavenly Demon Cult, they invariably shattered their alliances and plunged knives into each other's backs the second the storm passed.
Betrayal was a foregone conclusion. If that was the case, it was far wiser to eliminate any possibility of a stab in the dark beforehand.
"May this humble one dare ask... which illustrious sect Grandmaster hails from?"
"Do you want to die?"
"A slip of the tongue! Forgive me! I shall guide you to our headquarters immediately!"
Gwi Hu-jin hurriedly swallowed his curiosity. Judging by how casually she peppered every sentence with inquiries about his desire for death, he could at least be certain of one thing: she definitely wasn't some self-righteous member of the Orthodox sects.
Had she been an orthodox hypocrite, he might have gambled his life on stubborn resistance. But her demeanor carried the ruthless, sharp-edged cynicism of an old demon who had spent decades rolling in the mud of the underworld. To reach the Transcendent Realm at such a young age, she had undoubtedly inherited the direct teachings of an unfathomable hidden titan.
Cross her, and nothing good would ever come of it. In truth, surviving an encounter with such a monster was already a stroke of divine fortune.
[Why are you suddenly inquiring about the unorthodox sects?] Jinyeong sent a message via sound transmission, his brow furrowing. [Don't tell me you intend to fight them all?]
[Since we've already crossed paths with them, I figured it'd be cleaner to bundle them all together and sweep them away. Besides, you could use a little real-combat experience yourself.]
[I already got more than enough combat experience fighting those monsters from the Blood Red Squad... Can't we just head straight to Wudang?]
[What kind of rotten Taoist turns a blind eye while the common folk of Hubei suffer under these scumbags? Are you really a priest?]
Jinyeong broke into a cold sweat behind his stoic mask. Just once—just once in his life—he wanted to win an argument against her, yet victory remained perpetually out of reach. Whenever he tried to mount a counterargument, she wrapped him around her little finger until he couldn't even articulate his point.
In the end, Jinyeong had no choice but to let himself be dragged along wherever she pleased once again.
"The Chief has returned! Open the gates!"
Under Gwi Hu-jin's nervous guidance, they arrived at the Blade Ghost Gang's compound, which proved considerably larger than expected. It seemed the gang had carved out quite a name for itself within Hubei.
"I shall escort you to our most esteemed guest hall."
"Save it. I don't need VIP treatment. Just give me a complete breakdown of how the unorthodox forces in Hubei are divided. Who knows? I might even take care of your rival gangs for you."
"Understood!"
A bright gleam flared in Gwi Hu-jin's eyes. A transcendent powerhouse of Ryeong's magnitude offering to deal with the Blade Ghost Gang's bitter enemies? This was the very definition of using one tiger to hunt another. He felt an overwhelming urge to kick himself for ever having been foolish enough to pick a fight with her at the inn.
"Let us proceed inside and take a seat first. I shall explain everything regarding the local factions down to the smallest detail."
Gwi Hu-jin ushered her inward with a fawning, good-natured smile. Seeing right through his transparent greed, Ryeong matched him with a sly grin of her own and strolled through the gates behind him.