Chapter 107
"Heh heh heh. So it was one of the Namgung Clan's people who's been combing through Buddha's Crown Mountain these past few days...?"
At Wang Jeong's words while eyeing the Golden Needle Sword, the masked man squared his shoulders and declared loudly:
"Correct. I am Namgung Un."
Namgung Un.
The youngest son of the Namgung Clan's family head, notorious throughout Anhui Province as a reckless ruffian.
Rumors swirled that he was so deeply immersed in wine, women, and song that he spent nearly every day holed up in high-class Blue Pavilions. It was even whispered that the vast wealth of the Namgung Clan—said to be the richest in Jiangnan—would soon be squandered because of him.
So why had Namgung Un, treated as the clan's black sheep, suddenly appeared in Buddha's Crown Mountain?
"You claim to be Namgung Un?"
Wang Jeong sneered before nodding as if he'd realized something.
"Ah, so you were finally kicked out after all your disgraceful antics. Heh heh heh."
As if struck to the core, the masked Namgung Un's eyes flashed.
Wang Jeong was right. Unable to straighten himself out even after passing the age of twenty, the clan head had lost patience and exiled him with a stern decree:
—Do not even think of returning until you've earned a proper epithet in the Rivers and Lakes!
In truth, Namgung Un's martial arts were far more formidable than his reputation suggested.
His talent with the sword was exceptional—his laziness was the real issue. Knowing this well, the Namgung Clan head had ultimately forced him out into the martial world.
"If you were exiled, you should've begged at the gates to be let back in. What business do you have wandering the treacherous Rivers and Lakes?"
At Wang Jeong's words, Namgung Un straightened his shoulders, his smile turning icy.
"I came to catch scum like you."
"How amusing."
Even as a ruffian, Namgung Un was a direct descendant of the illustrious Namgung Clan.
Yet far from being intimidated, Wang Jeong only sneered.
"You'll capture me? Heh heh heh."
"Hmph. You seem awfully proud of yourself for something as petty as poisoning."
With deliberate calm, Namgung Un retrieved an orange-hued medicinal pill from his robes and swallowed it immediately.
"Qi-dispersing poisons are the most common in the martial world, so antidotes are just as plentiful."
Shhhk—
Drawing the Golden Needle Sword once more, he spoke in a voice like frost.
"Now I'll sever your head and restore proper order to the martial world."
"Ha ha ha ha!"
But Wang Jeong, who had been listening quietly, suddenly erupted into mad laughter.
"This is truly hilarious! Ha ha ha!"
"What's so funny?"
Wang Jeong's laughter cut off abruptly as he fixed his gaze on Namgung Un.
"Greenhorns like you always make the same mistake—thinking the martial world's problems can be solved by martial prowess alone."
"Greenhorn? I—"
"You don't even know that antidote pills take at least a quarter of an hour to take effect. Isn't that right?"
Unless one actively circulates qi to accelerate it, an antidote's effects manifest only after a quarter of an hour.
But Namgung Un, having never taken such a pill before, was unaware of this.
"Moreover, if you had real experience in the Rivers and Lakes, you'd never have fallen for such a basic trap. The most dangerous moment is when chasing a retreating enemy."
Even a three-year-old could dig a pit trap.
But Wang Jeong had crafted this cunning pitfall specifically to exploit the overconfidence of young masters in pursuit—a trap designed not for seasoned martial artists, but precisely for inexperienced talents like Namgung Un.
"Nothing will change."
Namgung Un bit his lip and raised the Golden Needle Sword.
"Once I kill you, it all ends."
No longer willing to let Wang Jeong keep talking, Namgung Un unleashed his sword techniques.
Wang Jeong effortlessly dodged the sword strokes, his smile turning sinister.
"Battles between masters are decided by internal energy and the steadfastness of spirit and mind. Yet you've lost both."
"Stop mocking me!"
"If you were truly capable, you'd have retreated to fight another day. But your pride forced you to draw your sword."
He wasn't wrong.
Namgung Un had already lost twenty percent of internal energy to the Qi-Dispersing Poison. Worse, Wang Jeong's silver tongue had eroded his fighting spirit.
Swoosh!
Finally, Wang Jeong began his saber techniques. Seizing the moment, Namgung Un channeled a great deal of internal energy into his blade.
The Sky Vault Flying Swallow Sword was a relentless art of speed and endless variations meant to overwhelm opponents.
Yet as the techniques unfolded, Namgung Un's expression hardened.
Wang Jeong's broadsword moved like a fish slipping through a net, fluidly countering every strike of the Sky Vault Flying Swallow Sword.
"Am I... truly no match for this bastard?"
Namgung Un's face twisted as he swung his sword.
In terms of pure martial skill, his swordsmanship far surpassed Wang Jeong's saber techniques.
But this was Wang Jeong's territory.
Moreover, Namgung Un had never faced a seasoned martial artist skilled in psychological warfare—he was weak in improvisation.
In contrast, Wang Jeong had fought countless life-or-death battles, and he hesitated not at all when it came to killing.
Because of this gap, Namgung Un couldn't exert his full strength and was instead being suppressed.
—Matters of the martial world cannot be resolved by martial skill alone.
It was a phrase often repeated by the countless masters of murim.
And the reason such words had been passed down was because they held truth.
Thwip!
A sharp Sound of Breaking Air sliced through the air, and blood spilled from Namgung Un's forearm.
Wang Jeong's broadsword had not only cut skin but left a deep gash in the muscle beneath.
"Hmph."
As Namgung Un swiftly switched his sword to his left hand, Wang Jeong chuckled darkly.
"So the Namgung Clan teaches left-handed swordsmanship too?"
"Shut your mouth!"
Enraged, Namgung Un channeled his full internal energy. A brilliant radiance erupted from the Golden Needle Sword in his grip.
Flying Swallow Among Clouds—the sharpest killing move of the Azure Sky Flying Swallow Sword technique. He was preparing to unleash it in a single breath.
"Fire!"
At that moment, Wang Jeong barked an order.
The twenty-odd men who had fled earlier had, unbeknownst to Namgung Un, already returned—and now they loosed a volley of steel crossbow bolts.
Whish-whish-whish!
Just as Namgung Un was about to execute his full-powered strike, external interference struck. It was no different from kicking the legs out from under a man mid-leap.
To perform Flying Swallow Among Clouds, one had to expel all turbid qi lingering in the body and draw forth fresh power.
But with this sudden disruption, the rhythm of his sword formula was inevitably thrown into disarray.
"Ghk—!"
Namgung Un bit his lip, a low groan escaping him.
The abrupt halt in his sword technique caused stagnant energy to clog his qi vessels. The backlash inflicted no small internal injury.
"Y-you son of a...!"
Clutching his constricted chest, Namgung Un gnashed his teeth—but Wang Jeong wasted no time. His fingers jabbed straight for the Demon Blood Point.
Thud.
Namgung Un collapsed, powerless. Wang Jeong nodded in satisfaction.
"Heh. This is what happens when a brat oversteps."
No matter how reckless the Reckless Ruffian was, to injure a master of the Namgung Clan without even lifting a finger?
Wang Jeong couldn't help but swell with pride.
"A shame, but I'll have to dispose of you quietly."
Killing a blood relative of the Namgung Clan would earn Wang Jeong immense fame—but it would also mean being hunted by them for the rest of his life.
He had no choice but to eliminate this masked man without a trace.
"Ugh—!"
Namgung Un tried to shout, but with both his Demon Blood Point and Dumb Point suppressed, only a hoarse wheeze escaped.
"In your next life, learn your place before picking fights."
Wang Jeong's killing intent flared as he raised his broadsword high over the paralyzed Namgung Un.
"Farewell. I'll make sure your corpse gets a proper cremation!"
"Ugh—!"
Just as Wang Jeong's blade was about to sever Namgung Un's neck—
Whiiish!
A throwing dagger came streaking down from the distant sky, accompanied by the Sound of Breaking Air.
"Hah! As if this would—!"
Wang Jeong scoffed, swinging his saber to deflect it—
Fwiiiiip!
—when suddenly, the dagger's speed doubled, then vanished from sight entirely.
"What the—?!"
Wang Jeong's face paled as the once-slow dagger disappeared. He leaped back in alarm.
Thunk.
At the same time, a dagger embedded itself into the ground where he had just stood.
"This..."
Wang Jeong's eyes trembled as he stared at the blade lodged in the dirt.
Had he not instinctively sensed danger and retreated—that dagger wouldn't have struck the ground. It would've been buried in his skull.
"Who's there?!"
At Wang Jeong's shout, a shadow descended from the cliff above, accompanied by a low voice.
It was Bu Eun-seol.
"For a bandit leader, you're not half bad."
He nodded down at Wang Jeong.
"To injure a swordsman of the Namgung Sword Gate with nothing but words—impressive."
Wang Jeong's gaze sharpened with wariness as he studied Bu Eun-seol.
He was a seasoned master of the martial world. With just that one remark, he realized—this man had been hiding atop the cliff all along, unnoticed.
"Must be a master above my level, judging by that confident entrance."
Wang Jeong was mentally calculating Bu Eun-seol's martial prowess, his mind working like an abacus.
Looking down at him, Bu Eun-seol let out a soft chuckle.
"No need to strain your brain. Either way, this time next year will be your death anniversary."
This was the same jest Tang Gon had once made to Sim Dok, the deputy master of Blood Poison Valley. Apparently, Bu Eun-seol had taken a liking to the remark and decided to borrow it.
"Hmph."
Wang Jeong swallowed a low grunt, but he wasn't particularly flustered.
Over the years, he had ruled over Buddha Peak Mountain, facing countless martial masters—some even stronger than him, including figures from the Righteous Faction.
Yet he had survived them all, precisely because he knew the predictable habits of Righteous Faction masters.
"Fine. I surrender immediately."
Finding no openings in Bu Eun-seol's stance, Wang Jeong promptly threw down his broadsword at Bu Eun-seol's feet.
"Martial Alliance or the authorities—I don't care. I'll go wherever you take me."
He raised both hands as if in surrender. But it was all a ruse.
Whoosh!
The moment his arms lifted, a barrage of poison-coated Feather Rain Needles shot toward Bu Eun-seol from hidden mechanisms near his armpits.
The attack was impossible to predict—too close, too sudden, and launched from a seemingly submissive posture.
"Hmph."
Yet Bu Eun-seol was already behind Wang Jeong, as if he had anticipated the ambush.
"Predictable as always."
THUD!
A single fist struck, and Wang Jeong was sent crashing face-first into the ground.
The first form of the Seven Forms of the Fist Demon—Fist Demon Initial Manifestation—had been unleashed.
"Guh—!"
Wang Jeong, who had been trying to rise, suddenly coughed up blood.
'What kind of fist is this heavy?'
Staggering to his feet, fear flickered in his eyes.
That single, seemingly effortless punch had felt like it shattered his spine.
Not only was Bu Eun-seol's fist technique terrifying, but his internal energy was undeniably profound.
"Alright, alright! I swear I won't try anything like that again!"
Wang Jeong raised his hands once more, this time with a convincingly submissive expression.
But his gaze remained sharp, and a smirk still lingered at the corner of his lips.
'Even if I have to escape now... I'll have to pass through that place.'
Every exit from the ravine was rigged with traps.
No matter how strong Bu Eun-seol was, Wang Jeong was confident he could at least shake him off and flee.
But then—
BOOM! KABOOM!
A series of explosions echoed from the ravine's exit, followed by a small figure descending from the sky.
"All taken care of, Young Master."
It was Heuk-pyo.
He had been sent by Bu Eun-seol to dismantle every trap Wang Jeong had laid in the ravine—and now he had returned.
"Impressive for mountain traps. Not just hidden weapon devices, but even a Bewildering Convergence Formation set up for escape."
Wang Jeong's jaw dropped.
How had this unremarkable boy found and dismantled all the traps and formations he had painstakingly installed?
"GAAAH—!"
A bloodcurdling scream tore from Wang Jeong's throat as Bu Eun-seol suddenly closed the distance and seized his shoulder.
"Vermin like you always pull something the moment you get an opening."
Plink. Plink.
Dozens of Spring Needle Tubes hidden around Wang Jeong's shoulder were plucked out and discarded.
"Your whole body's a hidden weapon device."
"I get it! I won't resist anymore! Spare me!"
As Wang Jeong trembled and begged, Bu Eun-seol smirked.
"Take off those Killing Star Shoes first, then we'll talk."
CRUNCH!
Bu Eun-seol stomped down, crushing Wang Jeong's foot—and from within the shoe, a blade coated in Extreme Poison sprang out.
"Y-you...!"
Finally realizing, Wang Jeong gritted his teeth.
"You're not from the Righteous Faction."
Trembling under Bu Eun-seol's icy gaze, he stammered,
"Where the hell are you from? The Green Forest? Is this because I never joined the Greenwood Alliance?!"
His words cut off abruptly.
A searing pain erupted at his back—his Life Gate Acupoint burning as if set aflame—before his entire body felt like it was boiling from within.
"Ghk—!"
Blood gushed from his mouth again, and his eyes bulged.
It was as if his breath had been violently cut off.
"Don't tell me... that punch earlier..."
Mid-sentence, the whites of his eyes turned crimson—and he collapsed.
The fierce Fist Qi that had pierced his Life Gate Acupoint had traveled down his Governing Vessel, wreaking havoc.