The Nameless Foothills
An unnamed foothill. They said the Ten-Thousand-Li Tracking Incense, crafted from a secret recipe of the Tang Clan, could only be detected by warriors who had undergone specialized training.
Sniff, sniff, sniff. Still, watching him walk with his neck craned forward like a turtle, sniffing the air repeatedly, was a bit of an eyesore.
"Do you absolutely have to walk like that?" I asked.
The Tang Clan warrior replied in a barely audible whisper, "Three-Virtue Chef, this is how I was trained."
"No, I mean, I'm not trying to criticize you or anything..."
"Why are you picking on an innocent man?" Seonwoo Seol glared at me, her face tense with anxiety. I had nothing to say to that.
Well, she was right. I had basically mocked a perfectly fine person for walking funny while he was doing his job. It was my bad.
"Even if his posture is a bit funny, you should just bear with it and let it slide."
"Wait a minute. Didn't you just admit his posture is funny too, my lady?"
Just as Seonwoo Seol and I were about to bicker further, the warrior ahead raised a clenched fist, signaling us to stop.
"I hear the sounds of battle. And... the scent of the Ten-Thousand-Li Tracking Incense is very strong. It seems the two of them are currently engaged in combat."
Just as the warrior said, the clashing of heavy polearms echoed from somewhere ahead. A hill blocked our direct line of sight, preventing us from seeing who was fighting, but I knew instantly.
"Uwoooooaaahhh...!"
That exact bizarre roar. The one bellowing like a beast was, without a doubt, Man Hanseok. Considering he rarely made such noises even during our spars, he had to be pushed to his absolute limit. I told him to stop screaming like that. Every time he needed to summon his strength, he let out a roar that made him sound like some wild barbarian.
Creeping forward as stealthily as possible, we lay flat on our stomachs at the crest of the hill and peered down toward the source of the noise.
"..."
Two men wielding scimitars—curved blades rarely seen in the Central Plains—were lunging at Man Hanseok with ferocious momentum. Man Hanseok was struggling, barely managing to parry their onslaught.
Dang Go-hye stood a short distance away, seemingly shielding a filthy, ragged child. Who is that kid?
Just then, I saw Dang Go-hye fling her hand forward. A brief, metallic glint flashed through the air—undoubtedly a hidden weapon, the signature specialty of the Tang Clan. Though the projectiles were too small to see clearly, the faint smirk playing on Dang Go-hye's lips suggested she had hit her mark. Not bad.
As the two scimitar-wielding men faltered from the poison or impact of the hidden weapons, Man Hanseok seized the opening, battering them down with his long spear until they collapsed. Despite sporting numerous minor cuts and bruises, he still seemed to have some fight left in him.
Shouldn't we help them? Seonwoo Seol, pressed tightly against my side, mouthed the words.
Let's wait just a bit longer. I pressed my index finger to my lips, signaling her to stay quiet, and Seonwoo Seol nodded in understanding.
Man Hanseok needed some real combat experience, after all. If things took a turn for the worse, I could always step in before any permanent damage was done.
As we watched, the man who had been standing idly in the rear finally showed his true colors.
"..."
That guy is strong. Even stronger than the Drunken King, whom Seonwoo Seol and I had defeated before. He wasn't some mutant wearing a yellow spandex suit, yet a vivid, crimson energy was radiating from his long, overgrown fingernails. It felt dangerously close to claw-qi. I glanced at Seonwoo Seol, who whispered in a low voice.
"That's Pyunbok Ssangjo, an infamous arch-demon of the older generation. His specialty is claw techniques."
I had heard of Pyunbok Ssangjo once or twice in passing. Wasn't he that cowardly bastard who got beaten to a pulp by the previous Heavenly Demon and fled with his tail between his legs?
"How strong is he?" I knew the previous Heavenly Demon's martial might was legendary, but I had no idea where Pyunbok Ssangjo stood on the power scale. I whispered the question to Seonwoo Seol, and she answered immediately.
"He was already a Peak Master when he vanished, so he's definitely stronger than us."
With those words, Seonwoo Seol looked at me as if to ask, What now? Down the hill, Man Hanseok was stumbling backward, barely parrying Pyunbok Ssangjo's strikes. Pyunbok Ssangjo, on the other hand, wasn't even using a fraction of his maximum internal energy. He was merely playing with Man Hanseok, teasing him with light, mocking jabs.
Man Hanseok was holding his ground for now, but the moment the old demon grew bored, he would tear him apart with a relentless flurry of those razor-sharp claws. It was time to make our move.
"My lady, wait here. When I give you the signal, rush in immediately and deliver a heavy blow to that old man."
"What? Wait. What kind of signal are you going to give me?"
"Trust me, you'll know it when you see it."
With that, I scanned our surroundings. Right in front of me lay a moss-covered, grayish-white stone—absolutely perfect for throwing. Stone, you're mine.
I grabbed two stones, one in each hand, completely erased my presence, and slipped away from the hill to advance quietly. Oh, right. Before leaving entirely, I whispered to the Tang Clan warrior.
"Slip away quietly, find the other martial artists, and report the situation."
"Understood!"
While I was stealthily positioning myself, Man Hanseok's condition grew even worse. The martial robes I had gifted him had long since ceased to function as actual clothing, shredded to tatters. His upper body was drenched in blood from countless claw lacerations. Aigoo, I hope those don't leave permanent scars.
Still, seeing him stand firm like an immovable wall, refusing to let the enemy get anywhere near Dang Go-hye, made me wonder if something had inspired him to steel his resolve when I wasn't looking.
If this continued, Man Hanseok would be in serious trouble. He wouldn't even be able to hold his head up in front of the Donhwa Sect. Promising myself that I would cook a grand, Yoon Gomyung-style feast for him once we returned to the academy, I raised the stone and threw it with all my might before he could get hurt any further.
I might not be a professional major league pitcher, but I knew how to throw a ball. Bending my body so low I nearly fell forward, I channeled my internal energy and unleashed the stone. It flew at a speed so blistering it was hard to believe a human had thrown it.
CRACK!
The stone struck him dead center, right on the back of his head. If I could take this martial art to America, they'd probably call me "Gomyung Ruth" in the Major Leagues.
However, there was one disappointing detail. I thought his head would burst open on impact, but aside from his head jerking forward, he seemed perfectly fine. I guess an arch-demon of the older generation really did have impressive durability.
"What bastard dares interfere with our business?!"
Pyunbok Ssangjo glared at me with eyes full of sheer irritation, clearly feeling humiliated by the sudden strike.
"Old man, aren't you ashamed of yourself? Toying with a kid young enough to be your grandson?"
"Ch-Chef Yoon?!"
"Yeah, it's me."
Man Hanseok looked at me with teary eyes, welcoming me with absolute joy. Aw, did our dear Hanseok miss his big brother that much?
"...Chef Yoon? Are you Yoon Gomyung, the Three-Virtue Chef who travels with the Mount Tai New Hero?"
"And aren't you Senior Pyunbok Ssangjo, who got beaten like a dusty rug on a spring day by a certain master in Xinjiang and fled with his tail between his legs—sorry, I mean, ran away in his undergarments?"
"..."
Yep, I knew that would hit a nerve. Look at him instantly radiating bloodlust the moment I poked his pride.
"Seeing as you've finally crawled out of hiding, I take it the previous Heavenly Demon has stopped haunting your dreams?"
"You insolent brat! You dare act so arrogant just because you've gained a bit of fame recently?!"
Man Hanseok, who had stumbled back and was now being supported by Dang Go-hye, nodded at me. He was basically saying he would leave the rest to me.
To keep Pyunbok Ssangjo's attention entirely on me and away from Man Hanseok, I kept up my relentless teasing.
"I couldn't just stand by and watch you pick on a young lad in the prime of his youth. You should play with someone of your own caliber, don't you think? Like me, for instance—a rising star in the martial world."
"Ha!"
Pyunbok Ssangjo let out a scoff of disbelief and violently whipped his hands downward.
Screeech!
A metallic screech that shouldn't have come from mere fingernails echoed as an ominous, crimson energy began to swirl around his hands. What, did he just cast an attack buff on himself?
"I shall teach you some manners, boy."
As Pyunbok Ssangjo issued his warning with a sinister grin, I retorted in kind.
"Then I'll teach you what it means to assault the elderly."
I assumed my starting stance, channeling a warm orange fist-qi around my knuckles, then extended my right hand and gestured with my fingers. Come on. Bring it.
When you press the taunt button, it's only natural for a martial artist of the Central Plains to react.
"So you choose the hard way after all!"
Unable to withstand the provocation any longer, Pyunbok Ssangjo lunged forward with a bizarre battle cry.
"Kweeeeeee-yaaaah!"
Scraping away at the pride of these Murim folks was my absolute specialty.
Whoosh! I started by hurling the second stone I was holding.
Clang! Pyunbok Ssangjo sliced the incoming stone in half with his claws. The rock split as easily as soft tofu and fell to the ground.
Despite his bizarre screeching, the qi and internal energy infused into his claws were the real deal. No wonder he had been playing with Man Hanseok so easily.
"To throw a mere stone with such speed... you've acquired quite some skill for your age!"
"And you, old man, did you eat your years through your backside? Is that all you've got?"
"...That mouth of yours will be your ruin!"
"Still better than someone who got beaten to a pulp and had to go into hiding because of his lack of skill..."
You know how it is, right? Since I kept rubbing salt in his wounds, Pyunbok Ssangjo finally snapped, ripping off his mask and tossing it aside.
"I will tear that tongue of yours to shreds!"
With that roar, Pyunbok Ssangjo leaped into the air like an agile ape, his hands tracing a massive, crimson 'X' in the air as he slashed down.
Clash! I blocked the ominous crimson claws with my fists and forearms, but a sharp sting told me my skin had been nicked. Though the wounds were shallow, a persistent, throbbing ache radiated from them—a clear sign that evil qi had invaded my flesh. Of all things, it had to be evil qi.
"...Old man, what is your relationship with the Drunken King?"
"You have no need to know!"
He didn't say he didn't know him; he said I had no need to know. A fishy scent was practically wafting off this guy.
I wasn't sure how this fight would end, but I could certainly drag it out. Fortunately, Pyunbok Ssangjo didn't use a sword or a spear.
I decided to maintain a razor-thin distance just out of reach of his claws, chipping away at him with quick, light jabs. In gaming terms, I was kiting him.
My strikes might have looked like casual swings, but true to the nature of the Hundred Medicine Fist Secrets, the shockwaves would seep deep into his body like medicine absorbing into the bloodstream. Besides, no matter how immense the old man's internal energy was, it meant nothing if he couldn't land a clean hit.
Using the Mad Dog Avoiding Steps to weave in a zigzag pattern, I slipped in and delivered quick, stinging blows. Pyunbok Ssangjo began to fly into a rabid frenzy.
Thwack! I landed another strike and immediately darted back. Pyunbok Ssangjo bared his teeth and snarled.
"Let's see how long you can keep this up!"
"My internal reserves aren't exactly lacking either. Shall we see who lasts longer?"
Thanks to the Medicine Sage's careful preparations, I had consumed legendary elixirs that would make any martial artist's eyes pop out of their head as if they were plain water. I certainly wasn't going to lose in a battle of stamina.
However...
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh! A devastating three-hit combo capable of tearing the surroundings to shreds tore through the air. The moment I stepped back to evade, he seized the opening.
"Did you think I was only famous for my claw techniques?!"
Grab! In the blink of an eye, Pyunbok Ssangjo snatched my fist, squeezing it with enough force to crush the bones.
"Hey, you're not a lady, so stop grabbing my wrist so casually."
"Hah! Let's see if you can still wag that tongue of yours after this!"
I thought it was a simple threat, but suddenly, the entire arm gripping my fist was enveloped in a sinister, crimson glow. Something was terribly wrong. Just as I tried to wrench my fist free, I felt a portion of the internal energy stored in my dantian being forcibly dragged out and pulled away. Don't tell me...
"The Heaven-Absorbing Great Art?"
Of all the demonic arts in the Jianghu, the Heaven-Absorbing Great Art was one of the most forbidden. It was a parasitic technique that stole the hard-earned internal energy of others to accumulate in one's own dantian—essentially a form of spiritual theft. If anyone else had used it, the entire martial world would have risen in outrage, but Pyunbok Ssangjo didn't seem to care. Then again, he was already branded an arch-demon; using a forbidden art wasn't going to ruin his reputation any further.
"Now do you understand why my title contains the word 'Bat'?!"
As he let out a wicked laugh, attempting to drain my internal energy dry, I channeled my strength into my right leg and shouted.
"Bat, my foot! Let's call you a mosquito instead!"
I had hesitated to use this because I was still in the middle of mastering it, but against the Heaven-Absorbing Great Art, I had no choice.
First Stage: Eun-u-bulneungmae
Deep sorrow prevents sleep.
"Ugh..."
An involuntary groan escaped my lips. Just recalling the mnemonic and guiding my internal energy felt like my meridians were twisting into knots. But there was no way I was going to hand over the internal energy I had nurtured with legendary elixirs to this old bastard. Gritting my teeth so hard they threatened to shatter, I forced myself to execute the Hundred Poisons Zen Kick. I whipped my right foot upward, aiming directly for the center of Pyunbok Ssangjo's chest.
"..."
Pyunbok Ssangjo hastily crossed his arms to block the kick. But the Hundred Poisons Zen Kick was not something that could be stopped by a mere block.
Crunch! The strike connected. As my foot slammed into the center of his crossed arms, a sickening crack echoed, and the sheer recoil sent me hurtling backward.
"Cough!"
"Ugh..."
I never expected to use the Hundred Poisons Zen Kick as an emergency escape mechanism. As a backlash, a searing pain—like a swarm of fire ants devouring my right leg—surged through my limb. But the escape was a success. Both Pyunbok Ssangjo and I were thrown back by nearly thirty feet.
"You... what on earth was that martial art?!" Pyunbok Ssangjo's arms trembled, clearly suffering from the residual shock of the Hundred Poisons Zen Kick. He couldn't even raise them properly.
"It's called the Bat-Slaying Kick. A technique specifically designed to exterminate old bats."
I bluffed with a cool, nonchalant expression, but in truth, I was in absolute agony. My right leg was practically useless. Still, if I started hopping around on one foot like a wounded bird, I'd never live down the embarrassment in front of Seonwoo Seol, who was watching from afar.
So, I waited for the perfect opportunity. The moment Pyunbok Ssangjo rushed at me with his injured arms would be our window. Pretending to be completely unfazed, I assumed my stance once more and gestured with my hand.
"Come at me."
I would rather die than drop my act. I might lack the enlightenment of a Transcendence Realm master, but I certainly didn't lack pride.
My provocation worked. Pyunbok Ssangjo bared his teeth, bared his claws once more, and lunged forward.
"Kweeeeeee-yaaaah!"
And at that exact moment...
"Prajna Paramita!" I raised a hand and roared the Buddhist mantra.
Pyunbok Ssangjo faltered slightly mid-charge, utterly baffled by my sudden, random chanting of a sacred mantra. But behind him, another figure was already charging forward with terrifying momentum.
"Dieeeee!"
Seonwoo Seol materialized out of nowhere, her fist enveloped in a brilliant, blazing crimson qi as she drove it straight toward the back of Pyunbok Ssangjo's head.
BOOM! Seonwoo Seol's fist connected cleanly with the back of his skull. The devastating impact sent Pyunbok Ssangjo face-planting violently into the dirt.