The Brows of the Yun-Nam Eight Ghosts Twitched
The brows of the Yun-Nam Eight Ghosts twitched.
They sensed Tian Ailang's laughter as utter mockery.
"Kill that bastard—all of them!"
At the First Ghost's shout, the Yun-Nam Eight Ghosts near Tian Ailang lunged at him in unison.
"Kehhel! Die!"
Tian Ailang eyed the Seventh Ghost's saber and the Third and Fourth Ghosts' swords closing in. The qi rippling along each blade looked somewhat threatening.
In the past, he'd brushed off such attacks with his vast inner power—blocking or dodging without a second thought. But now, stripped of his inner energy, staring down those approaching sword and saber sent a tingling shiver through his entire body.
Yet it wasn't fear. For Tian Ailang, that prickling in crisis sharpened his senses into a thrilling pleasure.
As his perceptions heightened, the world seemed to slow. He could see the paths the weapons traced through the air.
The Seventh Ghost's saber plummeted from above, poised to cleave him in two. In Tian Ailang's eyes, it drifted lazily toward his face.
He twisted his body slightly and extended his hand along that heightened instinct.
Splat!
Blood sprayed from Tian Ailang's hand.
'Not quite.'
It felt stickier somehow—like the blade clung to his hand on impact, rebounding the foe's force.
Within his sharpened sense of time and space, he spotted the Third and Fourth Ghosts' swords thrusting in.
The Fourth Ghost's blade aimed for his heart and thigh. Tian Ailang kicked his foot back sharply, evading the heart strike first, then flicked the sword tip away with the back of his hand—just like with the saber.
Blood spurted from the gash on his hand from deflecting a sword laced with sword qi barehanded, but he ignored it. He'd hoped to twist and fling the Fourth Ghost's sword away like the saber, but it hadn't worked.
No matter. Swords wobble greatly even from a swordsman's minor wrist flick, and he'd rocked the tip hard—surely affecting the wielder. Sure enough, the Fourth Ghost staggered wildly and toppled.
Tian Ailang flowed seamlessly from his retreating kick, spinning a roundhouse into the Third Ghost targeting his thigh.
Thud!
The Third Ghost barely blocked the kick and howled, thrusting his sword at Tian Ailang's throat again. Meanwhile, the recovered Seventh Ghost swept his saber horizontally at his legs in tandem—like a combo technique striking high and low simultaneously.
Tian Ailang leaped up, flattening his body mid-air to dodge both sword and saber, then spun.
Using the rotation's momentum, he stomped the Seventh Ghost's crown with his instep. At the same time, he drove rigid fingers into the throat of the Third Ghost, who was bent forward from his attack.
"Kuhk!"
"Guhk!"
The Third Ghost, uvula pierced by fingers, spewed blood and dropped dead on the spot. The Seventh Ghost, struck at his crown acupoint by Tian Ailang's instep, bled from eyes and nose before collapsing face-first.
The First Ghost, seeing his brothers fall in an instant, hurled himself at Tian Ailang. But suddenly his vision whipped around—he glimpsed his own body mid-lunge.
Chanho's sword had closed the gap in a flash, ending the peak expert First Ghost's life all too abruptly.
Tian Ailang launched himself at the fallen Fourth Ghost, denying him any respite. Mid-flight, he glanced at Chanho. Even with his maxed senses, the man's speed was impressive.
The Fourth Ghost, seeing his brothers slain and Tian Ailang bearing down, wildly swung his sword in panic—not refined technique, just desperate flailing.
Tian Ailang slipped past effortlessly, twisted the flat and hilt, wrenched the sword free, and plunged it into the Fourth Ghost's throat.
Squelch!
Impaled on his own blade, the Fourth Ghost stared in shock and died instantly.
Catching his breath, Tian Ailang winced at a sudden pain. Blood dripped steadily from his hand. Probably from slapping away that sword qi earlier. He'd thought it fine, but it was bleeding more than expected.
"Hey! Ailang!"
Chanho rushed over, tore a strip from his own clothes, and bandaged Tian Ailang's hand.
The pressure eased the bleeding and pain swiftly.
"You okay?" Chanho asked worriedly.
"Thanks to you. Appreciate it. I'll buy you new clothes later."
Tian Ailang nodded at Chanho's torn hem. Chanho waved it off with a booming laugh.
"No worries. Haha! You look so mild-mannered, but you fight like a beast. Fun as hell."
Tian Ailang chuckled softly and scanned around. All eight Yun-Nam Ghosts lay dead. Chanho must've taken out five in the meantime.
A twinge of regret hit him. He'd wanted to hone this sensation more, but the fight ended too soon.
Then a young man in a hero's cape approached Tian Ailang and Chanho, bowing deeply.
"My thanks. You two saved my life."
Chanho waved off the greeting casually and asked the man to explain.
"I was just passing through the village. When the Yun-Nam Ten Ghosts suddenly attacked and massacred the villagers, I had no choice but to stand against them despite my meager skills."
The young man frowned, recalling the family who'd lost their child—the one he'd tried to save.
"In the chaos, I sent one villager out to seek help. Lucky for us, two experts like you arrived."
"Impressive eye, recognizing the Yun-Nam Ten Ghosts on sight. I hear they've been in hiding for quite a while," Chanho said, arms crossed.
"Haha... I heard about them by chance once, and they're easy to spot anyway."
Catching Chanho's sharp glance, Tian Ailang whispered telepathically.
—'Chanho, what's up?'
—'Ailang, something feels off about him.'
—'Nah~ He was fighting for his life. What could be suspicious? And how would he know we'd come as reinforcements? Guy's just got good instincts.'
Chanho pondered Tian Ailang's words, then shrugged.
—'…Yeah, you're right. My bad.'
Even Chanho had to admit it made sense, so he shelved his suspicions. As long as the guy meant no harm, it was fine.
Suddenly, an old man came running up.
"Aigoo~ Thank you, great heroes! You've saved the village."
Caked in tears, dirt, and blood, the elder's voice was surprisingly hale—likely tanned from fieldwork, making him look older than he was. The villagers' deferential looks marked him as the village head.
"Glad everyone's safe. We'll be off then," Chanho said, seeing no further threat.
"Aigoo! How can you leave so soon? You're our saviors—we must repay you somehow…"
Chanho clicked his tongue and cut the headman off curtly.
"Enough. Look after the dead and their families. Those were the Yun-Nam Ten Ghosts, right? Might be a bounty from the authorities—check it out. Ailang, let's go."
Tian Ailang smiled at Chanho's gruff concern for the villagers and gave a casual wave to the survivors before following him.
As they left the village, the caped young man came dashing after them.
"Um... mind if I tag along?"
"No need," Chanho said flatly, startling even Tian Ailang.
—'Chanho, why so cold? Something about him?'
—'Not really... but do we need this guy?'
The young man fidgeted as they whispered.
"I'm... injured. Just until I heal?"
Chanho ignored him, murmuring to Tian Ailang.
—'Ailang, we're on escort duty. Bringing in some unknown could endanger the bureau folks.'
Tian Ailang's eyes widened in realization.
—'Oh... right.'
The young man pressed on.
"I'll pay twenty taels of silver—as 'protection,' but really just company."
Tian Ailang and Chanho froze. The young man shouted,
"Hey! Each!"
After a beat of silence, Tian Ailang whispered,
—'…Sounds good?'
Chanho relented gruffly.
"Ahem... We're on escort business, so we travel together anyway. If that's fine, come along."
Thrilled to join, the caped youth beamed and hurried up. Up close, Tian Ailang noted his neat, pearly teeth—almost pretty. And younger than he'd seemed.
"Thank you. I'm Song Sogeol... And you gentlemen?"
"Chanho."
"Tian Ailang."
"Hahaha! Nice to meet you. Looking forward to traveling together."
The trio walked steadily. On the way back to the bureau, Song Sogeol chattered nonstop. Tian Ailang, knowing little of worldly affairs, stayed quiet; Chanho answered halfheartedly out of annoyance.
Still, Song Sogeol babbled on happily.
"Wow~ How are you so strong? From a sect?"
"…."
Neither Tian Ailang nor Chanho replied. Being a Qi Arts heir wasn't a strict secret, but not something to blab about—especially with grudges likely earned against the Demonic Cult or Blood Cult in recent fights. Better safe.
Low odds, but if they came hunting revenge, bystanders could suffer. Especially in his current state—facing a Draku-level foe without inner power meant certain defeat, new insights or not.
The sudden silence made Song Sogeol panic.
"Gasp! Self-taught to that level?!"
Chanho sighed at the noisy youth.
"Just learned from my master."
Tian Ailang chimed in smoothly.
"Grandfather taught me."
Song Sogeol's smooth brow furrowed slightly at the curt replies. Some inexplicable stubbornness flared as they proved pricklier than expected.
"You two seem close. Old friends?"
Chanho sighed deeply again.
"Haa... Not long acquainted, but like-minded comrades. Unlike some, no pointless chatter or discomforting the other."
Song Sogeol's cheeks puffed at the jab, but he grinned and pivoted to Tian Ailang.
"Young hero Tian moves like he predicts every foe motion. Impressive."
"Just luck."
Short as Chanho's, but Tian Ailang's expression was kind. The guy seemed talkative, but his vibe felt harmless.
"You're kinder than some. Haha."
Song Sogeol shot Chanho a side-eye.
"Chanho hates noise, huh?"
"Hmph. You wouldn't get it—someone as pure as Ailang."
Song Sogeol flinched at Chanho's pointed words.