Chapter 67
Chapter 67
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 67
Chapter Title: Night Raid
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“Whose orders were you acting on?”
The squad leader was convinced that the Martial Alliance was behind these assassins.
Yet the energy emanating from the assassins felt bizarre.
Assassins usually concealed their energy.
But the energy pouring from these ones was surging explosively.
“No way… Mad Demon Art?”
Sssss… sssss….
No sooner had he asked than the assassins scattered in all directions.
Kuhuhu… hahaha!
The Demon Subduing Squad leader laughed until tears streamed down his face.
In the end, it seemed he had been raised by the Demonic Cult, lived for the Martial Alliance, only to die by the Demonic Cult's hand.
Guess a guy like me isn't needed anymore.
His original goal had been to assassinate the Alliance Leader.
Having failed, it was only natural for the Demonic Cult to hold him accountable.
The squad leader had given up on life.
With the Demonic Cult having infiltrated so deeply into the martial world, how could he possibly survive?
Then again, as the leader of the Martial Alliance's Demon Subduing Squad, it wasn't all that surprising.
Sasasak….
As the assassins closed in from all sides, he drew his sword.
Even if he had to die, he wanted to take a few with him.
Short swords in the assassins' hands flickered with forcibly generated sword energy and auras.
Kukuku….
A monstrous energy radiated from the laughing squad leader in all directions.
Clang clang…!
He deflected the swords flying at him from every side and slipped through a gap in the encirclement.
But another ring of assassins was tightening from outside.
Slash.
The moment he beheaded one assassin, swords from crimson-eyed foes pierced his body.
Clang clang…!
He knocked away the blades stabbing into him and severed the assassins' necks.
Slash… slash….
As the assassins who had unleashed the Mad Demon Art all fell dead, the energy of yet more assassins exploded outward.
Kuhahaha…!
The squad leader spewed blood and bile from eyes bloodshot red.
His head throbbed with increasing agony, while his body convulsed from the overwhelming power surging through it.
Clang clang…! Clang…!
Blocking the assassins' swords, he lopped off their heads one by one.
Slash… slash….
The assassins, who had been closing in three or four layers deep, suddenly pulled back all at once.
Uwaaa…!
The squad leader bellowed in agony, as if his skull were splitting open.
The pain was so excruciating he wanted to kill everyone in sight.
He charged blindly at the retreating assassins.
Shink….
Suddenly, a blade tip sprang from the ground.
The squad leader, lunging forward, twisted his body desperately to evade it.
But that wasn't the end of it.
Thud!
As he twisted, another blade erupted, impaling his shin.
Kwaaa…!
Howling, the squad leader slammed his sword into the ground.
Puuk! Puk!
Blood gushed from the spot where the sword withdrew.
In that instant, an assassin's blade plunged into his back.
Thud…!
The sword that pierced him burst out through his chest.
Slash.
Spinning his body, the squad leader decapitated the assassin.
Kuuu….
Skewered on the blade, he forced himself upright to face the assassins.
One of the lined-up assassins spoke to him.
“You must die not for failing to kill the Alliance Leader, but for fleeing before the enemy. The Phantom Demon Pavilion claims your life.”
But the squad leader's ears didn't register the words.
He yearned for swift release from the skull-cracking torment.
Uwaaa…!
He charged at the assassins.
Boom!
The clash of swords sent the assassins flying back.
But his body was already tilting sideways.
Thud…!
The moment he collapsed sideways, an assassin's sword pierced his throat.
Puk.
Repairs to the manor were finally complete, and the laborers headed home.
Sa Sa Un and the siblings served centipede fritters for lunch.
Lunch had been lavish while the workers were there, but now things returned to normal.
They kept serving centipede fritters because it was quick to prepare, leaving time to train martial arts with the squad members.
Sa Sa Un and the siblings were half-mad with martial arts training.
They had been brought along originally to handle meals for the squad, but now the hosts and guests had switched roles.
Munch… crunch….
“At least I won't get nagged by a wife later, damn it.”
Paeng Se Gi, who loved eating, grumbled even as he chewed the centipedes.
“Wonder if you can even get properly married.”
Dang Ok Yi sniped back, and he flared up.
“What's wrong with me? Handsome face, great body, strong martial arts, manly as hell. What am I missing?”
“That's not it. Hot-tempered, quick to anger, loves booze, no brains. You're lacking a lot.”
“Tch.”
Munch… crunch….
Paeng Se Gi whipped his head away and just chewed his centipedes.
The squad members smiled at the pair.
They bickered often, but they actually looked out for each other well.
Yi Gu, who had been peeking outside the wall, returned to report.
“No martial artists in sight today either?”
“Every one who comes leaves crippled. Would you want to go there?”
Paeng Se Gi snapped gruffly, and Hahu Yeon chimed in.
“Yeah. Even I'd hesitate two or three times if I were them.”
The squad members shot glares at Yeonggak.
But Yeonggak looked proud instead.
“If that's saving more lost souls through the Buddha's mercy, isn't it all thanks to him?”
The squad members were dumbfounded.
“Hey, you bastard. Is that even something to say? When did the Buddha ever say to cripple martial artists?”
“That's why they call him the Demon Buddha.”
“No idea what Shaolin saw in a guy like that to take him as a disciple.”
“Shaolin's lost its marbles too. Quiet as can be even with their disciple dubbed the Demon Buddha.”
Like Paeng Se Gi said, Se Yeong wondered why Shaolin hadn't moved yet.
Despite their disciple being treated like public enemy of the martial world, Shaolin remained silent.
Does Shaolin trust the Sword Emperor too?
Yeonggak looked around at the squad members and spoke calmly.
“Doesn't that mean Shaolin trusts this disciple that much? Truth be told, since Shaolin's founding, no disciple has surpassed me.”
The squad members glared at him with irritation.
“What a load of crap.”
In the end, a harsh curse slipped from Dang Ok Yi's mouth.
A small-statured monk in gray monastic robes entered the village.
His faintly glowing face made his age hard to guess, but the white tips of his eyebrows suggested he was past middle age.
Upon entering the village, the monk surveyed the atmosphere.
“For a village harboring the martial world's archenemy, the people's faces aren't so bad. Om mani padme hum.”
Villages with harsh lives usually had grim faces.
Yet this village felt brighter than most.
He headed to the largest inn in the village and stepped inside.
Quite a few guests sat enjoying drinks and food.
He chose a quiet seat and called the waiter.
“Bring some liquor and Dongpo pork.”
The waiter eyed the monk up and down— a practicing monk demanding booze and meat in broad daylight.
What degenerate times. Degenerate times indeed.
Cursing inwardly, the waiter bowed quickly.
“Please wait a moment.”
While waiting for the liquor and meat, the monk listened to the guests' chatter.
The guests boasted drunkenly or lamented their lots.
How full of suffering life is… Om mani padme hum.
As he listened to their tales, the waiter brought the liquor and meat. He slowly picked up his chopsticks.
“Next time something comes up, take me along.”
Kekeke….
“What, changed your mind all of a sudden? You said the wall factory scared you and you hated it.”
Sigh….
“I shouldn't have believed the rumors. My mistake. If I'd listened to you and worked there, I'd have earned a fortune.”
“What'd I say back then? We're not martial artists, so no need to worry, right?”
“That's why I'm regretting it big time now.”
The monk drained his cup while listening, then polished off every scrap of meat.
He stood and left the inn.
The waiter rushed over, bowing deeply.
“That'll be twenty coins.”
The monk gazed at him steadily.
“My thanks for the donation. I'll return home and offer three thousand prostrations to the Buddha on behalf of this inn.”
What the hell?
The waiter's face twisted in confusion, then anger.
This damn monk was trying to dine and dash!
“Can you believe this monk? Boss! This monk's skipping out on the bill!”
The waiter yelled, and the innkeeper rushed out from the back.
“What? Boys! Everyone out here!”
The other waiters and kitchen staff poured out at the innkeeper's shout.
The monk eyed the wooden sticks in their hands.
“What do you intend to do with those?”
The innkeeper bellowed.
“Beat him good!”
The waiters swung their sticks at the monk.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
“Ow! Mercy! Please stop!”
The monk rolled on the floor, wailing like he was dying.
Tsk tsk….
The inn's guests pointed and clucked their tongues.
“Pathetic monk.”
“Too many of these fake monks these days.”
“What's for dinner tonight?”
Paeng Se Gi was the first of the squad to enter the kitchen, asking.
“Five-spice pork and three-vegetable stir-fry, Young Master Paeng.”
“What's three-vegetable stir-fry?”
“Just stir-fried veggies, three kinds.”
While Paeng Se Gi chatted with Yi Hwa, the rest of the squad took their seats at the table.
Se Yeong, about to sit last, tilted his head.
He felt no energy or presence, yet something felt off.
As Se Yeong stood there tilting his head instead of sitting, Paeng Se Gi yelled.
“Check outside!”
Yi Gu dashed out and scanned beyond the wall.
No sign of people, not even a stray dog.
“No one's there, Great Hero Han.”
The moment Yi Gu reported back, the manor's gate creaked open.
Creeeak….
Se Yeong stared at the gate with a tense face.
Had he not heard the sound, he wouldn't have even noticed someone approaching so close.
The one entering through the open gate was a small-statured monk.
His energy was so faint and natural, like a breeze one overlooked.
“Huh?”
But Yeonggak was more shocked than Se Yeong.
He'd definitely seen this man before, but couldn't recall where.
Ah….
Memory hitting late, Yeonggak rushed over and prostrated flat on the ground.
“Greetings, Elder.”
This monk had taught him martial arts when he was very young.
Not systematically, but dropping by occasionally to instruct.
Only later, as an adult, did he learn the monk's true identity.
“How have you been?”
“Well, Elder.”
“I'm hungry. Let's eat first.”
Yeonggak sprang up and led the monk to the kitchen.
The monk met Se Yeong's eyes with clear, profound gaze.
“Care to make a donation?”
“Sit.”
Se Yeong didn't ask the monk's identity.
He sensed not even a hint of hostility from him.