Dongjeong Canal Stronghold (1)
Nak Pung-hyeon leaped across the shattered remnants of the boat, his body slicing through the air. He'd chosen to go last out of concern that the Yi family brothers might tumble into the water, but he quickly realized it was needless worry. The brothers' steps had seemed awkward at first, teetering on the brink of plunging in, yet in just a few strides, they steadied. Then, in a flash, they accelerated, speeding away as if racing across the water's surface itself.
Watching their backs as they dashed off with the wind whipping behind them, Nak Pung-hyeon let out a hollow laugh. "Heh, damn."
He'd already known Yi Jingang and Yi Jinun's skills had grown tremendously. But when Yi Jinpyeong had insisted on bringing his brothers along to assault the Dongjeong Canal Stronghold, Nak Pung-hyeon figured it was mostly to give them some experience. Seeing them clinging to each other on that tiny skiff had solidified that thought.
But look at this scene now. He, whom he'd considered the alliance's second-strongest after the Yi family, was falling behind the brothers. Worse, the debris they'd kicked aside floated scattered across the canal, making it hard for him to find solid footing.
Nak Pung-hyeon decided that was his excuse...
In any case, he poured on all his speed, determined not to lag too far behind the Yi brothers.
The water bandits, finally grasping their intent, leaped from the depths to snag his ankles. But no matter how swiftly they swam, they couldn't match the pace of lightfoot skill skimming the surface.
After racing along the narrow, winding canal for a stretch, the view suddenly opened wide. A semicircular bay crammed with countless skiffs, and a hidden island revealed itself. This must be the heart of the Dongjeong Canal Stronghold.
Alerted by the shrill blasts of bamboo flutes, the lakeshore and waters teemed with bandits. Even after Bu-cha-ju Jjak-gwi had led hordes against Chwi Hwa Bang, this many remained.
Yet all eyes locked on one spot: Yi Jinpyeong, soaring skyward before plummeting repeatedly, smashing their vital assets—the skiffs—one by one.
Boom! A boat exploded, "Kaaack!" bandits flew into the air, whoosh! sprays of water erupted high.
Swords swung, thrown, nets hurled at the moment he dropped—desperate bids to capture or stop him. But Yi Jinpyeong toyed with them, twisting midair to exploit gaps and wreck another vessel.
Screams, shouts, curses tangled into chaos along the shore...
"Hahaha!" Yi Jinpyeong's laughter boomed across the bay.
What a mess, Nak Pung-hyeon thought, clucking his tongue. That clear laugh made it seem less like battle and more like a joyride.
Even amid it, Yi Jinpyeong kept kicking boat shards outward. Some pierced bandit flesh; others piled neatly before Jingang and Jinun racing across the lake.
Seizing the moment all attention fixed on Yi Jinpyeong, Jingang, Jinun, and Nak Pung-hyeon dashed to shore.
Feet finally touching solid ground, the relieved brothers embraced in glee. No denying it—the sensation of masters gliding over water with near-equivalent lightfoot skill.
"What the fuck... what is this?!"
A mid-tier boss appeared late, eyes drawn to Yi Jinpyeong darting between sky and sea—only for Nak Pung-hyeon to sever his head clean off with a casual sword swing.
Splatter! Blood gushed; startled bandits surrounded the brothers and Nak Pung-hyeon.
And then they emerged: Sim-gang and Yu-su-gwi. Two more vice-leaders of the Dongjeong Canal Stronghold.
Nak Pung-hyeon recognized them instantly. Jjak-gwi had been infamous for his looks, but Sim-gang and Yu-su-gwi were no less striking.
Sim-gang was notorious for wearing only pants even in midwinter—for one reason: to flaunt the massive carp tattoo covering his upper body. Legend said he'd caught it at fifteen after a brutal fight in Dongjeong Lake. So huge and ancient, when gutted for roasting, a fist-sized inner core popped out. Swallow it, and immense inner power surged, propelling him to vice-leader. To commemorate, he got the full-body carp ink.
Yu-su-gwi was rumored to live in water year-round—eating, training, even sleeping submerged. A true water arts expert. No wonder he went by "Willow Water Ghost," forgetting his birth name. Pale as a specter, body ghostly white, hair dripping as if fresh from the depths. He gripped his signature massive harpoon.
Neither was remotely normal. Nor to be underestimated.
Chwi Hwa Bang's leader Nak Pung-hyeon and the Yi brothers faced the Dongjeong Canal Stronghold's two vice-leaders.
The brothers shrank at their unnatural auras. Yu-su-gwi scowled, recognizing Nak Pung-hyeon.
"Chwi Hwa Bang's leader. Jjak-gwi failed. Hiding your strength, eh?"
"Even so, to barge in here so fearlessly. Surely not just you three?"
Wherever they'd slacked off, they hadn't grasped the situation.
Then—skreeee! Another skiff detonated. Bandits soared amid sprays and shards.
Sim-gang and Yu-su-gwi paled. Yi Jinpyeong's aerial footwork was no joke.
"Who's that guy?"
Nak Pung-hyeon glanced at the soaring figure. "No idea."
Sim-gang frowned. "No ordinary fool. Looks like you, me, and even the chief combined to handle him. Dispose of these first."
"Agreed."
Weapons forward: Sim-gang's crescent blade etched with a giant carp; Yu-su-gwi's elongated, blood-red-tipped harpoon. Their synced stance oozed menace, honed over years. Far from the view of the stronghold relying on numbers and terrain.
How else could such bandit hordes stay organized, disciplined, evading purges?
Nak Pung-hyeon silently raised his sword. Jingang followed suit. Having witnessed the stronghold's infamy and atrocities firsthand, no hesitation to strike here—sheathe still on or not.
Last, Jinun. He shouted urgently, "Jinpyeong! Terrifying bastards here! Masters!"
Sim-gang and Yu-su-gwi smirked. Nak Pung-hyeon narrowed his eyes.
From high above, Yi Jinpyeong's voice rang: "Brothers. Show your stuff. Chwi Hwa Bang's leader can't handle them alone."
"And you?"
"Gotta smash every last boat. So they never strut here again."
Jinun was floored. Smashing boats could wait post-victory—why now? Felt like forcing them to fight with excuses. Or maybe he'd just gotten hooked on wrecking them, venting pent-up rage his way.
Jinun gave up persuading. "Jinpyeong! Leave one intact. We need it to get back!"
No reply—just another boom.
Realizing delay meant no escape boats, Sim-gang and Yu-su-gwi charged. Jinun drew his sword with a shing.
Clash of elites: Yi-Chwi Hwa alliance versus Dongjeong Canal Stronghold.
Feigning disinterest verbally, Yi Jinpyeong wasn't abandoning his brothers. Wrecking skiffs drew him shoreward; he landed atop a high branch overlooking the five tangled in combat. Wood shards tucked at his side, he watched intently.
He trusted them—but didn't want to lose them. Unlike a century ago in his past life, today's murim had grown: Demonic Cult, Nine Great Sects, even Dongjeong Lake powers.
Among the fray, Chwi Hwa Bang's Nak Pung-hyeon shone brightest. Three months of spars with him, plus battling Jjak-gwi, had freed his swordsmanship from rigid forms.
But the vice-leaders countered fiercely. The tattooed one's crescent blade thrummed with deep inner power on each swing; the gaunt ghost's harpoon thrusts tore space itself.
The brothers contributed little yet—barely half a share combined. They'd shone in non-lethal tournaments, fought decently amid bandit swarms out of necessity. But here, with real intent needed, they faltered.
Without Nak Pung-hyeon's breakthrough, balance would've collapsed.
Yi Jinpyeong sighed softly at their flailing. ...How did I think we could face that Demonic Cult bastard with them?