Chapter 216
Chapter 216
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 216
Chapter Title: New Order (3)
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"Ha! What the hell are you all doing?!"
Squad Leader So Bong of the Beggars' Sect's Myriad Steps Squad trudged down a dark back road, his face twisted in fury. When the scouts he'd sent out failed to return on time, he'd gone looking for them himself.
Just a few days ago, he'd have been on high alert at any break in communication or delay, fearing something had gone wrong. But now, with the Iron Blood Palace and North Sea Ice Palace's withdrawals all but confirmed, he wasn't too worried.
The spies who'd been lurking around had mostly vanished in recent days as well. Even when he ran into any stragglers, they avoided confrontation, unlike before.
"Bet these idiots are off getting drunk."
Three days earlier, agents from the third squad had been caught drinking on a scouting mission.
It wasn't to the point of drunkenness—just a light drink to wet their throats as the mission wrapped up—so it ended with a simple warning. Still, So Bong was displeased. Whether from relaxed tension or something else, the Myriad Steps Squad's discipline seemed to be slipping lately.
'I get it, but even so... the mission shift hasn't even ended yet...'
As So Bong stormed along, fuming, he suddenly dropped low.
Something was moving along the distant ridgeline.
'What the...?'
His eyes sharpened, missing no detail, determined to catch every twitch.
'One, two, three, four... damn it!'
Behind what looked like an advance guard, a massive force was snaking along the ridge.
'North Sea Ice Palace!'
Around Shaolin Temple right now, the only group likely to move such a large force covertly under cover of darkness was the North Sea Ice Palace. The Iron Blood Palace had targeted Shaolin too, but they were in the opposite direction from where So Bong was scouting.
So Bong's face drained of color as he confirmed the North Sea Ice Palace's assault.
'This is bad.'
After the Blood Cult Leader's death, the retreats of the Iron Blood Palace and North Sea Ice Palace—once major threats to Shaolin—had become accepted fact. The taut tension had loosened day by day. Even the vanguard Myriad Steps Squad was feeling the shift. A surprise attack now would spell disaster. And if the North Sea Ice Palace was moving, the Iron Blood Palace surely was too.
'Gotta warn them.'
He had to stop the ambush somehow.
Just as So Bong shot to his feet and turned—
"Where do you think you're going?"
Three men in head-to-toe black uniforms emerged from behind him.
So Bong's lips curled savagely at the sight of the North Sea Ice Palace's Black Moon Squad agents—he'd clashed with them countless times before.
"Still sneaking around like rats, huh?"
"That's our virtue. You're just incompetent for not noticing."
"You touch my guys?"
"If you mean the ones stationed nearby, probably."
"You kill them?"
"What a stupid question."
"We'll send you right after them so you can ask yourself. They haven't gone far."
Sparks flew from So Bong's eyes at the Black Moon Squad's mockery.
"You bastards! Fine. I'll ask in person. But I'm taking at least one of you with me."
With a roar, So Bong charged.
At that very moment, similar scenes were unfolding across nearly every area surrounding Shaolin Temple.
"Squad Leader! Squad Leader!"
Yang Ji Gwang, leader of the Myriad Steps Squad, shook Hoe So, who was crashed out in a corner of the western lodge. Exhausted from nonstop duties, Hoe So wouldn't wake easily.
"Hey! Hoe So!"
Only after Yang Ji Gwang slapped his cheeks a few times did Hoe So finally open his eyes.
"Wha... what?"
"What? Get it together! Why are you so out of it?"
"Dunno. Been shitting all night, so I'm like this."
Yang Ji Gwang shot him an incredulous look at the mention of diarrhea.
"You got the runs too?"
"Just me? Everyone's the same."
Hoe So sighed, pointing at someone clutching their butt and shuffling along.
"No wonder the smell was off. Guess some pissed themselves in their sleep."
Yang Ji Gwang grimaced and pinched his nose.
"But seriously, brother, what's up at this hour?"
Only then did Yang Ji Gwang remember why he'd come to the western lodge, his face turning grave.
"Hey, something's off."
"Off how?"
"A bunch of our scouts have gone radio silent."
Hoe So, still half-reclined, sat up straight.
"Radio silent?"
"We're looking into it, but my gut says it's bad. Came straight here."
"How long since contact broke?"
"About an hour."
"That's iffy."
Hoe So furrowed his brow.
It wasn't uncommon for scouts to go an hour without checking in. Even full-day blackouts happened routinely.
"True, but not this many at once."
"What do you think, brother?"
Yang Ji Gwang didn't hesitate.
"Ambush."
"Sure?"
"Can't be sure. Just my feeling."
"North Sea Ice Palace?"
"Likely."
"Damn it!"
Hoe So bolted up, sensing Yang Ji Gwang's conviction in his expression.
"Emergency! Everyone up!"
His thunderous shout rang out as he rushed to Thousand Hand Divine Beggar sleeping across from him.
"Master!"
"What's with the racket?"
Thousand Hand Divine Beggar mumbled without fully opening his eyes.
"Ambush, I think."
"Ambush...? What? Ambush?!"
His eyes flew wide at the word, mind snapping alert.
Hoe So quickly relayed Yang Ji Gwang's report. Thousand Hand Divine Beggar's grave expression shifted by the moment as he listened.
"Need more confirmation, but yeah, ambush. Alert everyone."
His voice grew urgent.
"Got it."
Hoe So turned and bellowed at the Beggars' Sect disciples, now alert and waiting.
"Enemy ambush! Spread the word!"
As his order rang out, the disciples scattered in all directions, shouting at the top of their lungs.
"Ambush!"
"Enemy incoming!"
Lights began flickering on across Shaolin Temple. But the assault had already begun.
"Perfect time to strike."
Um Jeok So smirked at the brightening eastern sky, having reached Shaolin's outskirts after slaughtering all the scouts.
"Ready?"
No verbal reply came. The Iron Blood Palace warriors answered by radiating their auras.
"As promised, vanguard's mine."
Left Sword stroked his blade as he spoke.
"Confident?"
"I'll sweep them in one go."
Confidence brimmed on Left Sword's face as he eyed the enemy camp visible through the trees. Not just him—his men overflowed with vigor too. The mood was good even among the original Ghost Phantom Clan members and the new recruits.
"This is just the start. Big fights ahead, so don't overdo it."
Left Sword nodded at Um Jeok So's words.
"No worries. Strategist's call, and they look like a ragtag bunch anyway. Perfect appetizers."
Left Sword raised his sword high and shouted.
"Alright, charge!"
As he led the way, his waiting men swiftly followed.
Fifty men exactly. Reports said at least 150 foes, but Um Jeok So felt no concern.
Left Sword—devouring spirit pills per Iron Blood Palace intel, honing his skills through bone-grinding effort—had mastered not just Ghost Phantom Clan arts but the Iron Blood Demon Lord's as well. He was a new man. His followers were elite enough to match Iron Blood Palace's best.
"When do I move?"
Ma Uk sidled up, eyeing Left Sword's advance with envy.
"Plenty of enemies. Wait your turn. Once Left Sword clears them, Shaolin will pour out. Show your stuff then."
"Heh heh heh! As you command, Palace Lord."
"No arrogance. Like the strategist said, Shaolin's not pushovers."
"Still, we're stronger."
Um Jeok So chuckled at Ma Uk's smug reply.
"Obviously. Just stick close."
"What?"
As Ma Uk blinked in confusion, Um Jeok So gazed at Left Sword and his men crashing into the enemy.
"Think I yielded vanguard out of niceness? Real fight starts after we brush those aside. When the true masters step up—that vanguard's mine."
Um Jeok So's eyes gleamed with strange madness as he cackled.
"Hold the line!"
"Don't fall back!"
The rattled warlords gradually reformed ranks amid the sudden ambush.
The one who'd sensed the Iron Blood Palace assault first—rushing about to rally the crumbling forces—was Han Hwang, a Shaolin lay disciple famed in Honam for his Kun Gon Fist, who'd honorably retired but returned to aid his sect in its crisis.
His chest-length beard whipping, Han Hwang unleashed devastating punches at the foes.
"Hold to the end! Reinforcements are coming soon...!"
His throat raw from shouting, he twisted away on a chilling instinct.
A strand of energy grazed his nape at the same instant.
Blood sprayed in fine droplets.
No time to assess the wound—Han Hwang punched out.
Incoming sword energy clashed with his strike.
"Gah!"
A strangled cry escaped as Han Hwang's form flew limply.
Crashing far away, he struggled to rise.
'Such an expert...'
Even in desperation, it'd been a full-power blow. Yet it hadn't landed, not even defended properly.
His knuckles were shattered. Internal injuries were severe.
No time to think.
A sharp whistle—clear blue energy lunged. Han Hwang hurled himself aside.
His wounded body didn't respond perfectly, but he'd dodged. Then, the energy veered, slamming his flank.
"Argh!"
With a agonized scream, Han Hwang tumbled.
Intermittent groans escaped; blood poured like a waterfall from his side with every twitch.
"Thought you had some skill with all that flailing. Just a loudmouthed old fart."
Left Sword, having claimed Han Hwang's life in two strikes, scanned around with clear disappointment.