Chapter 206
Chapter 206
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 206
Chapter Title: In a World Without the Unorthodox Sects
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“…Who the hell are you?”
Pyeongmun’s mind was an utter mess as he eyed Ja-seong warily and demanded his identity.
‘That level of skill at such a young age? Could he be a disciple from some major sect? No way, Wudang?’
For a split second, Pyeongmun thought Ja-seong might be a Wudang Taoist, but he immediately shook his head.
There were too many things that didn’t add up for him to be from Wudang.
First off, he wasn’t using the Pine Pattern Ancient Sword style. And that thrust from earlier didn’t carry even a hint of the Five Elements Sword technique Pyeongmun had witnessed before.
On top of that, hadn’t something happened at Wudang lately, forcing all the Taoists into hiding?
‘Then who the hell is he?’
With no clues to gauge the man’s identity, Pyeongmun had no choice but to wait for Ja-seong’s answer.
And the response that came from Ja-seong’s mouth far exceeded his expectations.
“A wandering hero.”
“…….”
Not a title, not a name—just some random passerby hero?
Pyeongmun twisted his face again and growled.
“You…! You mocking me!?”
“Why do you think I’m mocking you? I am a hero, aren’t I? Look, I just punished an evildoer whipping innocent laborers.”
Pyeongmun finally snapped at the sight of Ja-seong nudging his unconscious disciple—who’d had his dantian shattered—with his toe.
“You bastard—!”
-Boom!
Pyeongmun kicked off the ground and charged at Ja-seong.
A ferocious sword strike surged toward Ja-seong, who seemed to stand there defenseless.
-Kaang!
But Ja-seong blocked the attack with the simple motion of slightly raising his sword.
“Hah! Hah! Raaah—!”
Pyeongmun unleashed a barrage of shouts, deploying the sword forms he’d honed his entire life.
Yet his blade was repeatedly deflected, never reaching Ja-seong.
And unlike before, Ja-seong wasn’t counterattacking at all—he was purely defending.
“You bastard! Fight me for real!”
Pyeongmun bellowed in fury at the feeling that Ja-seong was toying with him.
‘Insolent punk!’
Pyeongmun had always been hot-tempered by nature.
Regardless of the opponent’s skill, the idea that he was being looked down on was unbearable.
‘A wandering hero? Calling my juniors evildoers?’
Ja-seong’s words grated on his nerves just as much.
How dare he insult disciples of a righteous martial clan.
‘You clueless fool, flapping your mouth without knowing shit…!’
Over the years,
Under the banner of righteousness, their righteous martial clan had unilaterally sacrificed themselves to protect the people of Goseong County.
Countless senior and junior brothers had been injured or killed defending the county’s citizens from bandits and brigands.
And what did they get in return? A fleeting word of thanks.
‘We deserve better treatment—compensation for our sacrifices.’
Pyeongmun had always argued as much, but his brothers merely paid lip service, and his master—the previous clan leader—had scolded him instead.
-How can an act done for reward be called righteousness!?
Even under his master’s reproachful words, Pyeongmun’s convictions never wavered.
That’s why, the moment his master died, he’d cozied up to the clan leader’s fourth disciple and purged those frustrating seniors.
‘See? The very people you risked your lives for betray you for a pittance without a shred of gratitude.’
Watching his senior brother—falsely accused of rape by a bribed woman—plummet into ruin had solidified Pyeongmun’s belief.
Righteousness meant nothing.
The county’s people owed them for their sacrifices.
“We’re just claiming the compensation we were denied all these years! Who the hell are you to interfere!?”
“Even bullshit gets boring when it’s this predictable.”
Pyeongmun thrust his blade with bloodshot eyes at Ja-seong’s indifferent words.
But no amount of rage would make his sword connect when it hadn’t before.
Moreover, as their blades clashed repeatedly, the flow of battle visibly shifted.
“Urk…?!”
Pyeongmun’s sword, which had been bouncing off Ja-seong’s blade every time, stopped rebounding.
Instead, Ja-seong’s sword—which now seemed to move sluggishly—began twisting Pyeongmun’s sword path every which way.
It felt as if he’d become a puppet dancing to his opponent’s whims.
“What the hell kind of trick is this!?”
A bewildered shout at the bizarre phenomenon he’d never encountered before.
Ja-seong merely smirked and muttered something cryptic.
“Combat really is the best teacher. I’m finally starting to get the hang of it.”
*
A deadly sword thrust hurtling toward me.
Its tip aimed straight for my chest—my heart.
If it swung through unimpeded, that blade would pierce my body and kill me outright.
But that didn’t happen.
-Swish
I gently deflected the incoming thrust, twisting its path.
As a result, the middle-aged warrior’s sword missed my chest entirely and veered off over my shoulder.
“Damn it…!”
Frustrated at his blade defying his will, the warrior gnashed his teeth and swung harder.
Oblivious that he was only helping me.
The more forceful strike wavered dramatically from the slightest nudge,
And his sword veered wildly, embedding itself in the ground.
“What…?”
Eyes bulging in shock.
He probably felt possessed by a ghost.
This was the Soft Sword.
A blade that subdued hardness with softness—the principle that the yielding overcomes the rigid.
Deflect the enemy’s assault with minimal motion, create an opening, and strike.
Just like now.
His posture crumbled completely as his blade twisted out of control toward the dirt.
In his widened eyes, my sheathed sword rapidly grew larger,
-Poof!
Slamming into the crown of his head and smashing his body into the ground.
-Thud!
“Urgh, ugh!”
Amid the fairly loud crash, the sprawled warrior tried to rise immediately.
Surprisingly unscathed.
There’d been an odd resistance when my sheath hit his head—he must’ve activated his protective energy in that instant.
“Raaah!”
As he pushed half-upright and flailed his sword wildly, I sidestepped and kicked his abdomen.
-Thwack!
“Gahk!”
A pained scream chased his body as it tumbled far backward.
My toe, faintly wrapped in qi, had pierced his protective energy and delivered the full impact to his body.
“H-How!?”
Staggering to his feet, the middle-aged warrior gaped at the shock that breached his defenses.
Before he could recover, I closed in, and he struggled to stand and raise his sword.
“Urk…!”
But for all the ferocity of moments ago, his blade merely trembled in midair, refusing to move.
“Standing there frozen won’t change the outcome, you know?”
You’ll lose, your dantian will shatter, and you’ll forfeit your martial arts.
The realization dawned on him from my words, painting his face with raw emotion.
It was fear.
Fear of losing everything he’d built up until now.
And that fear laid bare his true nature.
Not as a warrior, but as the ugly human who valued only his greed and safety.
“W-Wait!”
“Hm?”
“I-I’ll do as you say. We’ll halt construction and release the laborers. That enough?”
“…Think so?”
I snorted in disbelief and resumed my advance.
The middle-aged warrior retreated step by step as I drew nearer.
A pathetic display utterly devoid of a warrior’s pride.
Sighing softly at his completely broken spirit, I lunged forward in an instant.
“Huh!?”
He yelped in shock at my sudden appearance right in his face, then let out an agonized scream from a strike to his Sea of Qi acupoint.
“A-Ahh…!”
What followed his cry was a trembling groan.
A despairing wail born from his lifelong inner energy scattering like grains of sand.
“No…! Nooo!”
Collapsed on the ground as if drained of strength, denying reality, the middle-aged warrior’s face—aged years in moments—filled with hatred and resentment.
“Why… why go this far!? What the hell did we do wrong!?”
A heartrending cry that might make ignorant listeners think I was the villain.
I chuckled dryly and squatted before him.
“Save that crap for after you look around.”
Reflexively scanning his surroundings at my words, his gaze fell on the laborers clutching hammers and saws, glaring daggers at him.
Cheeks hollowed from three months of meager meals, but their eyes burned fierce.
The eyes of wolves refusing to miss this unexpected chance at vengeance.
His face paled confronting that gaze. No longer a warrior, just a pathetic middle-aged man—I spoke kindly to him.
“Time to pay for lording your petty power over innocent people all this time, right?”
Hearing me, the man flapped his mouth before contorting his face.
“Pay? Compensation? We’re the ones owed! For decades, we shed blood protecting those bastards! Every last one of them owes us their lives!”
The righteous martial clan that once shielded the county from rampaging bandits and brigands nearby.
Back then, their hearts must’ve held true righteousness and goodwill.
But the clan now—and this man before me—had soiled that devotion by oppressing the people and justifying it as repayment for lives owed.
Now was the time to face the consequences.
No point wasting more words—I stood and turned away.
Laborers streamed past me toward the man.
“W-What? Y-You lot dare repay grace with enmity…? S-Stop. Stay back, stay the hell back—!”
-Thud! Crack!
Leaving behind the discordant sounds of tearing flesh, shattering bone, and the man’s death throes, I approached a staggering stonemason.
“A moment? You alright?”
“Y-Yes? Y-Yeah! W-What is it, hero?”
I asked the stonemason—his face taut with tension—if he knew a man named Go-san.
“Go-san… you mean Go brother? How do you know him, hero?”
“Oh, made a promise with his son. Said I’d bring his dad back.”
The stonemason’s face crumpled with emotion at my words, and he prostrated himself before me.
Wait, what’s with this guy all of a sudden?
Momentarily stunned, I hardened my expression at his next words.
“Hero, please! Save Go brother!”