Did Not Look Back
He didn't look back. The man screamed with the face of a vengeful ghost. A tiny crack formed in Yi Jinpyeong's heart. A black needle slipped through that gap.
He barely dodged, his feet tangling in the process. The distance between him and the bastard widened.
No. I can't turn back now.
It was impossible from the start to fully rescue a prisoner already in the enemy's clutches. Especially after falling into a trap they'd set.
The distance was absurdly far, and the squat bastard holding Jingang was no pushover.
Hesitating now would just play into the enemy's hands.
On top of that, the Tang Clan bastard was relentlessly scattering needles. He couldn't take his eyes off the foe for even a second. The moment he turned his head, a needle would strike true. There would be no second chance.
Steeling his resolve, he took another step forward.
"Urgh! Stop! Don't you care what happens to your brother? What are you waiting for? Cut it off! Yes! Uhahaha! Seo Dal, you useless squat runt! Finally listening to me, eh?!"
Confusion swirled. Had the squat one really severed Jingang's arm? If so, why no scream, no sound at all?
Maybe he was gritting his teeth, holding it in. If it were second brother Jinun as hostage, he'd be shrieking bloody murder. But eldest brother Jingang? He was the type who could endure even a limb being hacked off without a peep.
Nothing to his name, yet stubbornly proud and tenacious.
"Uhahaha! Look at your brother's pathetic state! Limbs hacked off, just a dangling torso left! No scream? Already dead, huh?!"
Yi Jinpyeong shut his ears. He didn't look back.
Right now. This instant. He focused solely on what must be done.
Dodging the barrage of hidden weapons, closing the gap with the enemy—that was everything. All his nerves poured into it.
The match was one strike. He had to cross that line.
One step.
"Still blood left in that scrawny body? Look! Those resentful eyes! Thanks to his heartless brother—Urgh!!"
Another step.
"Stop coming closer! Stop! Th-that—Graaaah!"
His words cut off. Yi Jinpyeong, finally upon him, slashed relentlessly. The sword severed both the bastard's wrists with a clean thwack.
Pale, slender hands flew high into the sky.
"Guh... guhuk..."
Yi Jinpyeong gripped the man's throat tight and whipped around.
"Graaaah!"
The man thrashed in despair, both wrists severed clean. Yi Jinpyeong ignored him and spun back urgently.
The bastard was no longer a threat. He had to save Jingang. No time for hesitation.
The anxiety he'd shoved aside bloomed massively in his chest.
Sword gripped behind him, he twisted every muscle from soles to knees, waist, shoulders, elbows, wrists, fingers.
Infusing them with qi surging from his dantian, muscles fused with inner energy. His body tensed taut, swelling massively.
The squat bastard entered his peripheral vision. No thought, no hesitation—he hurled the sword.
All remaining stamina and inner power in one strike.
From his fingertips, the blade exploded forward.
Whoooosh!!
Only then did he see it. Gloomy squat holding Jinun—still intact. He hadn't killed or severed the arm.
The Tang bastard had just lied desperately to shake Jinpyeong's mind.
Shrieeeek!
The fully powered sword hurtled toward the squat's brow.
Squat, short sword at Jinpyeong's throat, still hesitating. Eyes bulging at the incoming blade, he kicked Jinpyeong aside and raised the short sword high with both hands.
His face flushed with gathered power.
"Haaap!"
A mighty shout as he swung down.
Raw power clashed.
Crack!!
Something splintered and flew. Dust billowed thick.
Silence fell.
Yi Jinpyeong's face twisted.
The squat, whom he'd thought blasted away by his sword, was rising laboriously, short sword planted in the dirt.
On the ground, split in half and rolling? His own thrown sword.
Jinpyeong lay collapsed from the shockwave, unmoving.
Too far from the start to reliably subdue. And the squat wasn't ordinary.
No time for admiration. Jinpyeong's hands were empty now. Even if armed, no power to hurl across that distance.
He'd poured everything into that last strike.
Squat rose shakily, staring at his torn-open palms, muttering.
"That power from such range... Impressive indeed. Stay there!"
Yi Jinpyeong halted mid-charge.
Squat hauled Jinpyeong up, blade to his throat.
Brother's life still in enemy hands.
The Tang bastard, wrists severed, throat gripped, drooling spit in agony, dazedly scanned around. Realizing the standoff, he burst into mad laughter.
"Uhihi. Uhihihi! That damn punk. Should've moved sooner... Kill him! Kill the eldest! Slice his throat now!"
"Slice his throat? You really mean kill him?"
Squat asked, face confused.
Tang bastard shrieked hysterically.
"Yes! How many times must I say it? Hack him!"
"But killing him voids the hostage's value."
"You bastard! Listen the first time! My wrists are gone. How am I supposed to live? Kill him now! I must see tears of blood from his eyes!"
The man flailed like an upended beetle, blood spraying from stumps onto Jinpyeong. Unfazed by death, consumed by madness.
Yi Jinpyeong itched to rip out the parasite's tongue. But with brother's life in squat's hands, no reckless moves.
"I..."
His voice cracked raggedly.
Convince the squat. Somehow persuade, seduce him to ignore Tang's orders.
But words wouldn't come. Maybe from expending too much power at once. Or mental turmoil.
Unable to control the situation—unfamiliar helplessness.
Yi Jinpyeong had never felt so powerless.
His mistake. His blunder.
What if he'd prioritized saving Jingang first? Not underestimated, subdued squat early, protected brother while fighting steadily?
Fighting while retreating might've yielded better results.
Or had he subconsciously dismissed his foolishly captured brother from the start?
His head spun. Right and wrong, choices and regrets swirled in a vortex before his eyes.
Heart pounded madly in his ears, veins reversing flow, spewing intense pressure.
Qi Deviation.
The world's greatest, Yi Gyeol, had never experienced it, so he didn't recognize the signs looming before him.
Countless warriors' horrific ends: vomiting blood into crippledom or madness.
But in that moment.
The one in squat's grip—thought unconscious—Jingang spoke.
"Jinpyeong. It's not your fault."
A clear, resonant voice echoed through the woods.
He continued.
"You did your best. Straighten your shoulders. Fear not the outcome—walk your path."
Absurd. The frailest here, closest to death, advising Jinpyeong instead.
Exposed gaunt torso, blue blade at throat.
Yet those words shattered Jinpyeong's turbid mind.
Regret and fear clouding his vision cleared. Flushing sight normalized, thundering heart slowed.
As Jingang said, he squared his shoulders.
Drew a deep breath, opened his mouth calmly.
"Try it. If you can handle the consequences."
His voice boomed large, arrogant, disrespectful.
He feared no being, no threat—for he was the world's greatest.
"Here's my promise. If a single scratch mars my brother from now on, not just you lot—your subordinates, families, kin, even chance acquaintances, the entire Tang Clan—I'll wipe you clean from the jianghu."
Each word from Jinpyeong brimmed with power. He wasn't one for empty talk. He acted, enforced.
Yet Jingang's face flashed dismay at the words.
"Little brother. Isn't that too cruel? Maybe cultivate a bit more mercy?"
"......"
Jinpyeong forgot his words. This damn brother. With threats to hack off his own limbs right in front of them?
Tang bastard bellowed savagely.
"Hmph! You piss-pants bastard! You dare mention the Tang Clan?! Seo Dal! You worthless squat shit! Kill that skull-faced freak now!"
Squat, ignoring him, gazed quietly at the Yi brothers. He smirked, slammed his short sword into the dirt.
"Fuck this. I'm done."
Tang bastard's eyes rolled back.
"...You mad bastard! Think you can betray the Tang and live?! Falling for that bluff?!"
"Bluff or not, doesn't matter. Never liked your dirty tricks from the start. Hostage games, traps... Not my idea of jianghu. The fight's decided anyway—why kill a helpless hostage needlessly?"
Tang's eyes bloodshot, throat heaving like vomiting blood.
"You scum! I took in a bottom-feeding mercenary runt like you, raised you—and this is how you stab me in the back?!"
"Let's be honest. You didn't take me in or raise me. Just flaunted the Tang name, worked me to death. Sure, I was intrigued by your origins. Thought rubbing shoulders with an Eight Great Clan member might change my life. Felt like I was doing something meaningful, living differently."
"But nothing changed. Just scamming weaklings for cash, mobbing anyone who crossed us..."
Squat spat on the ground.
Hawk—ptui!
"Fuck. Know how many of your own men you melted just now? Knew they were dying in your trap, shoved 'em in anyway. Now ordering a kill on a powerless foe for spite. Seen plenty of filth in my days, but this— you fucking prick! Talking it out, I wanna kill you myself! Hell, even I with my stuffed nose could barely stand your breath!"
Sudden rage from squat. Tang, eyes flipped in fury, spewed unintelligible curses, thrashing.
If not for Jinpyeong's grip, he'd have charged into a brawl. Wrists gone, outcome obvious.
They hurled insults for a while. Tang tired first, drooping at his severed wrists.
Squat laughed heartily, then abruptly raised his short sword at Jinpyeong.
"Come on! Let's fight! One proper round!"
Jinpyeong could only be stunned. Relief at squat defying Tang—then why point the blade now?
"I've already done dirty deeds leeching off the Tang. Just refusing that bastard's order—not begging for my life by betraying my superior like a worm. Got no family to call my own, no reason to fear death."
Squat grinned fiercely, eyes blazing.
"So come! A clean fight, die by the blade like a true warrior!"
Yi Jinpyeong finally burst into great laughter.