214. Unwanted Invitation (3)
"What do you mean by that?"
At Eunho's question, Moyong Jaehwa trembled as he answered.
"I-If Grandpa finds out, I'm dead... I-I mean it! I'll definitely die."
Crouched on the rooftop, hiding his body and clutching his head with both hands—Moyong Jaehwa's actions left Eunho utterly dumbfounded. No matter how you sliced it, dying at his grandfather's hands? What grandfather in the world would... Ah! Right, this kid's grandpa was the Windbreaker Sword Saint!
"Because you picked up a bow instead of a sword?"
"Y-Yeah!"
Eunho tilted his head.
"But you knew you'd get in trouble when you chose the bow, didn't you?"
"I-I knew, but... I knew and still... It's just that I'm not mentally prepared yet... Or, well, not prepared to get hit..."
Eunho was at a loss for words. To choose that path knowing full well how terrifying it would be. His contradictory bravery toward his friend felt strangely admirable.
"That scary? Enough that you need to prepare to get beaten?"
"A-Actually, I was planning to learn some external arts on the side. O-Of course, even with external arts, I'd still get thrashed with the family punishment method, but at least the bruises wouldn't be as bad..."
Eunho swallowed hard at the mention of learning external arts too. It dawned on him that assuming this was just some ordinary grandfatherly scolding was a mistake. How badly must the kid have been beaten before to act this anxious...
"Haa... But how did your grandfather, who's back at the main family, find out about your situation and come all the way here? Did someone tell him?"
Moyong Jaehwa frantically shook his head.
"No way. I made everyone swear to keep their mouths shut. But the suspicious part is..."
Moyong Jaehwa stared fixedly at the letter in his hand.
"......"
"......"
Eunho let out a long sigh of embarrassment.
Senior Brother! Senior Brother! Senior Brother! How much more embarrassment are you planning to put me through!
The letter painted a clear picture. While everyone else fretted over the "Master Invitation" with unease, Jin Sowoon had been the only one brimming with confidence. As far as Eunho knew, Senior Brother didn't have much in the way of connections, so he'd wondered who on earth he planned to invite to exude such assurance. No matter how reckless Senior Brother was, he wouldn't call in some blacksmith uncle from the forge for a "Master Invitation."
But it turned out to be the Windbreaker Sword Saint...
Having caught wind of Moyong Jaehwa's deviation, Moyong Gang must have sent a letter straight to him, knowing he'd fly to the academy in an instant. After venting his anger on Moyong Jaehwa, he'd probably planned to stick around and attend the "Master Invitation" event as a favor. It was obvious without seeing it.
"Haa..."
In the end, the victim of all this was poor Moyong Jaehwa.
No wonder that money-grubber so readily opened his money pouch.
Looking at Moyong Jaehwa, pale and shivering, Eunho couldn't even lift his head from the guilt.
"......"
But could he really let a good kid like Moyong Jaehwa suffer because of some madman? Hadn't he just called Eunho over the moment he got some money, insisting on treating his friend first? Bad cause, bad result—as the saying went, the one who started the mess had to clean it up.
"Wh-What are you doing?"
As Eunho pulled out writing materials from his bosom, Moyong Jaehwa asked. Spreading out a sheet of paper, Eunho dipped his brush in ink and replied.
"Delivering justice."
"Huh?"
His eyes burned with a resolve fiercer than ever before.
To dare unleash such a thunderous lion's roar inside the sacred Murim Academy—no, loud enough to reach the headmaster's office. The headmaster and instructors rushed over to punish the insolent intruder. But...
"......H-How did you get in here......"
Upon confirming the "intruder's" face, they were struck dumb with shock. Among the instructors, one who seemed to recall an unpleasant memory went pale and backed away before fleeing outright.
The intruder stroked his beard and spoke.
"The aura of the Three Pure Ones Unfettered Sword is fearsome indeed. No greeting for a senior?"
Buk Wonpyeong, his hair standing on end at the words, hurriedly clasped his hands in salute.
"I-I greet Senior Moyong Gang! Have you been well?"
Those around him hastily bowed as well.
"We greet you!"
Moyong Gang. Moyong Gang! That eccentric, spine-chilling name echoed through the academy. Even as they offered greetings, the instructors' hands trembled.
It wasn't just his strength that terrified them. The real fear was his unpredictable temperament.
"Coming out in a group like this, you must be here to judge me. Come at me, then!!!"
That was the problem.
"Wh-What are you saying? We-We just thought something might have happened in the academy..."
Hadn't he bellowed his lion's roar so fiercely that it shook the entire academy? Servants had collapsed vomiting, and students had grabbed their swords thinking war had broken out. It was only natural for the headmaster and instructors to come running. Yet Moyong Gang was twisting it into a provocation to attack him.
"Then you should greet me and guide me properly. Is it right to leave me standing in the street like this?"
"Th-Then to the headmaster's office... No, the VIP room!"
"I refuse!"
"......"
Ah, seriously! He wasn't a child!
People's eccentricities usually mellowed with age. Why did his martial prowess and temper only grow wilder? Despite the churning rage in his gut, Buk Wonpyeong kept a smile plastered on his face.
"Th-Then, may I ask what brings you here?"
"I didn't permit you to question me!"
A violent twitch ran across Buk Wonpyeong's lips. He had to endure. He didn't want to become the punchline of rumors about getting beaten and breaking a leg at his age—no matter who the opponent was, even the world's Windbreaker Sword Saint.
Buk Wonpyeong bowed even lower, careful not to irk him, and asked again.
"......Then, may I ask if I can ask?"
"......Hm? Fine, ask away."
This old man, honestly...!
"Ahem, what brings you to the academy..."
"My grandson touched a bow, they say?"
"......!"
Buk Wonpyeong's eyes shook violently. Moyong Gang's face turned icy.
"......Gulp."
"So you knew."
No, whether an academy student chose sword or bow as their main weapon wasn't something the headmaster could dictate.
"Th-That is..."
As Buk Wonpyeong tried to make excuses.
"In any case, you knew not to keep it from me—that much you're aware of, right?"
"......"
"That's why you're so tense in front of me?"
Those piercing eyes seemed to see through everything. Most with eccentric tempers were simpletons. Coax them, placate them... It might sound odd to call a supreme expert that, but they'd usually puff up with "Ahem" to save face. But Moyong Gang keenly read his opponent's mind and tormented them with it. And he enjoyed it. More than anyone.
If he weren't the Moyong family head, he'd be a public enemy of the martial world by now. Buk Wonpyeong racked his brains desperately. How could he escape this?
He couldn't avoid a beating from Moyong Gang, but at this stage as a mid-tier martial artist, getting thrashed in front of everyone was unacceptable. Especially since Moyong Gang's temper wouldn't cool with mere words.
"N-No, sir! If I'd known, I'd have informed you immediately..."
Buk Wonpyeong's gaze caught the trembling instructors. The ones who'd recently allied with Baekdohoe to create fake representatives. And pushed to discipline Jin Sowoon, the lay disciple of a major sect, over Ak Jupyeong's incident. Buk Wonpyeong's eyes gleamed.
"It's all the instructors' fault!"
"What??"
"That duty falls under the instructors, but they failed to report it to me in time..."
The instructors' gazes shot to Buk Wonpyeong in disbelief, while Moyong Gang's shifted from him to them.
"Is that so?"
Crack.
"W-Windbreaker Senior, that's not—!"
Before the instructors could make excuses, Moyong Gang's form blurred like smoke.
"Sh-Shifting Shadow Stance?"
A phenomenal movement technique that elevated one's understanding of martial arts—but the problem was that they were the targets.
"Ack!"
"Gah!"
"Urk!"
The standing instructors cried out in agony one by one, rolling on the floor. Buk Wonpyeong swallowed thickly at the unseen form, wiping cold sweat.
After a flurry of activity, Moyong Gang approached with a refreshed face.
"Where is Moyong Jaehwa?"
"Pr-Probably in the dorms. It's a holiday today..."
"Where is that?"
For a moment, Buk Wonpyeong's face went blank.
"......You came without knowing?"
He'd barged in and roared in fury without even knowing? Was this man really a Baekdo warrior? As Moyong Gang's glare sharpened, he bowed quickly.
"I'll guide you right away."
They searched the four-person dorms, but Moyong Jaehwa was nowhere to be found. The students only said he'd left without stating his destination. As Moyong Gang's face soured unresolved, Buk Wonpyeong was at a loss. Then—
Whoosh—a sound slicing the air tickled Buk Wonpyeong's ear.
What? An ambush?
It was clearly man-made, but scanning around revealed no incoming object.
"What is this?"
With a bored mutter, Moyong Gang reached out. An arrow plummeting vertically from the sky was effortlessly caught in his grasp.
Arcing shot?
Buk Wonpyeong couldn't hide his shock. Moyong Gang snatching an arcing arrow was impressive, but for it to be invisible to Buk Wonpyeong meant it was fired straight down.
Meanwhile, Moyong Gang's attention shifted elsewhere.
"A messenger arrow?"
He unfolded the paper tied to the arrowhead and read the densely written text carefully. What could it say? Before Buk Wonpyeong could even think to ask.
Moyong Gang's face, having finished reading, had twisted into a demon's.
Buk Wonpyeong felt suffocated.
What? Did the family get attacked?
Unprecedented pressure radiated from Moyong Gang in all directions. Even Buk Wonpyeong struggled to bear it. At last, the name of the culprit fueling his rage burst from Moyong Gang's lips.
"Jin Sowoon!!! You son of a bitch!!"
Huh? Buk Wonpyeong was baffled. Why was that guy's name coming up here?
One Arrow Worth a Thousand—the moniker given to Moyong Jaehwa for protecting academy students single-handedly with his bow.
An extraordinary title for a mere student who hadn't even entered the alliance yet. To the Shaolin and Jeonchang disciples lost to sorcery, his movement had been jaw-dropping. And his status as a direct descendant of the sword-renowned Moyong family naturally piqued curiosity.
Moyong Jaehwa wasn't alone. The gold-silver-bronze brothers, who held off Kunlun's Thirty-Six Sword Petal Formation with just three, earned the new title Iron Wall Three Dragons.
Damn, why am I still stuck with Black Flame Dragon?
The gold-silver-bronze trio did express some regret over losing the Black Blood Three Dragons moniker, oddly enough.
In any case, it was inevitable that rumors of our group rushing to Sichuan to rescue academy students would spread. The story was compelling enough to crave a drink. Moreover, despite my detailed strategy, the Murim Alliance was fumbling in Sichuan, dragging out the war.
The escalating war atmosphere. Soaring prices of daily necessities and iron ore fueled growing anxiety. People needed a tale to soothe it—and what better than One Arrow Worth a Thousand?
"Well... This is... unavoidable. Of course it is."
Judging by the rumor mill's momentum, the truth would reach the Moyong family soon enough. And as a direct descendant of the sword house who chose the bow, Moyong Jaehwa was bound to face this trial someday.
"Plus, he turned what should've been a free beating into a paid one. What a profitable deal."
Mmm, fine tea aroma.
As I prayed for Moyong Jaehwa's fortune and savored the Seven-Colored Flower's scent calmly.
Kyahhh!Grah!Urk!
Screams echoed from the corridor.
What? An attack?
I popped the Seven-Colored Flower into my mouth and gripped the Black Dragon Sword, bracing for the assailant.
Ak Jupyeong? Namgung Gipyo? Whoever it is, I'll snap their arm clean off!
The fights were long over, yet they still couldn't accept defeat and pulled this power play. Pathetic. As someone who loved justice and upheld the law, I couldn't forgive it.
Ah, not that interrupting my precious tea time was unforgivable, of course.
I circulated the Tae-eul True Scripture, preparing for invasion. Moments later—
BOOM!
A massive explosion shattered the office door to splinters.
Whoa? A bit intense.
Through the thick dust strode a figure. Unhesitant stride, commanding gait. Unmistakably someone from my memories.
What? Why here...
Brushing dust from his scowling face was someone who should be elsewhere right now. Definitely elsewhere...
"Jin Sowoon..."
Grind.
Why was Windbreaker Sword Saint Moyong Gang here at this hour? He should be thoroughly thrashing his wayward grandson. Yet here he was.
"You dare sever the Moyong line yourself?!?!"
With murderous intent to beat me to death instead. Shit... What the hell happened?