Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: The Wall (2)
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“Is he in here?”
At those words, the beggar acting as a gatekeeper glanced at Master Shimwon standing behind Ouyang Jue.
It was a motion akin to a whimpering dog.
Ouyang Jue frowned and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Move.”
The moment he twisted his body away.
*CRASH, BANG!*
Ouyang Jue’s kick shattered the inn's main door.
Through the splintered wood, two men were revealed, their faces etched with shock and bewilderment.
It seemed to perfectly describe the current situation.
“Bloodhound.”
The red-nosed Bloodhound flinched at the words Master Shimwon tossed out.
“I believe you can answer my questions. Can you spare a moment?”
“...I have a guest.”
The moment those words were out, the man sitting opposite him shot to his feet.
*SCRRRAPE!*
As he moved, the man kicked the chair he had been sitting on backward.
A proper distribution of strength and internal energy.
Seeing this, Ouyang Jue's lips twitched.
‘Not bad for a lackey.’
But that was all.
A yellow glint flickered in Ouyang Jue’s eyes for an instant as he activated his Scrutinizing Eye.
The Scrutinizing Eye was the right to see first.
It was worthy of being called a demonic eye; its training was extremely arduous, requiring one to open a separate, bizarre pathway for internal energy.
However, Ouyang Jue had already perfected it during his training at the hermitage.
There was no way he would lose sight of a mere lackey.
*Grit.*
His teeth ground together.
The heightened energy contained within briefly paralyzed the man's entire body.
“...Kuh!”
Ouyang Jue’s eyes glinted as he watched the man struggle to resist.
‘Should I draw Severing Manifestation and cut off his feet?’
But he quickly changed his mind.
With the Zhongnan Sect right behind him, he needed to restrain himself a little.
Ouyang Jue's lips parted slightly.
“I will subdue this man. Senior, please take care of the Bloodhound.”
“Understood.”
Despite the reply, Ouyang Jue’s gaze remained fixed on the man.
He simply planted his foot forward and, with all his might, took a single leap.
“...?!”
The man who saw this gasped.
Fast. Even though he had leaped into the air, it was as if he were sprinting on flat ground.
‘Was Junior Brother Ouyang always this strong?’
The man was relieved he hadn't spoken his thoughts aloud.
His surprise was too great.
The fact that a Daoist who should be at the Mount Hua Sect was here was also completely unexpected.
He had never even heard any news of it.
‘Damn it, I never heard anything about this!’
As the man’s thoughts raced, Ouyang Jue spoke.
“I always thought your faction was unusually young.”
“...Kuh!”
The man let out a faint groan and thrust out his left palm.
Ouyang Jue's eyes narrowed at the sight.
Immortal Crane Palm.
The most famous fist and palm art of the Mount Hua Sect.
The enemy had decided not to hide his identity.
Ouyang Jue glanced behind him for a moment.
‘Does he intend to do this with the Zhongnan Sect present?’
Perhaps all preparations were already complete.
‘I have a bad feeling about this.’
Ouyang Jue’s hand swung out decisively.
Immortal Crane Palm against Immortal Crane Palm.
But his held enough power to kill the man in a single blow.
*WHOOSH—!*
The hand Ouyang Jue swung cut violently through the air.
The man’s shoulders flinched at the sudden pressure of the wind, as if dazed.
“...Hah!”
Ouyang Jue did not miss the opening.
-How is the Elder?
The man’s face flushed with bewilderment and shame at the sudden telepathic message.
He must know what a wretched business he was caught up in.
Seeing that even the Zhongnan Sect was involved, even a mere child could figure it out.
A chilling energy gathered at Ouyang Jue’s fingertips.
*BANG!*
The impact of force against force sent them both flying back.
As the distance between them grew, the man’s lips curved into a smile.
‘If I can just get thrown towards the wall...! I can escape this place!’
Knowing he couldn't escape unless it was now, while the Zhongnan Sect was subduing the Bloodhound, the man’s expression grew more anxious.
Just as he was about to flee, a wondrous technique extended from the Diamond Fist-Seal Armor.
‘Benevolent King Captures the Wicked!’
Like a Benevolent King seizing a villain.
The internal energy flowing down his back passed through the Diamond Fist-Seal Armor and transformed into a fiery aura.
But this was where the power of the Purple Mist True Energy came into play.
It contained the fiery aura that could otherwise be mistaken for a Shaolin martial art.
If Severing Manifestation was Ouyang Jue’s public weapon, the Diamond Fist-Seal Armor was a hidden card he used only when necessary.
In particular, the mnemonic inscribed inside the gauntlet, the Benevolent King Fist Scripture, would be of great help in situations where he did not use Severing Manifestation.
‘I didn't know the enemy was a lackey from Mount Hua, not some demon.’
Ouyang Jue’s lips twisted in a fleeting, bitter expression.
But he did not slow the momentum of his attack. Rather, because of it, he accelerated fiercely.
Subdue the man before he can react.
For now, the best course of action was to subdue him first, before the Zhongnan Sect got their hands on him, and then escort him to Mount Hua.
Ouyang Jue’s lips moved.
-If you’re a disciple of Mount Hua, it would be better for you to be dragged away by my hand.
*SHING!*
At the telepathic message, the man somersaulted in mid-air and drew his sword.
*CLANG!* The gauntlet and sword clashed, sending out a shower of harsh sparks.
‘So that’s a no, then.’
Suddenly, Ouyang Jue’s lips formed a deep smirk.
“Good.”
“...?”
“I have my own preferred methods.”
Ouyang Jue’s gaze flickered for a moment toward the Bloodhound.
“I've developed quite a few muscle-stripping, bone-dislocating techniques that I haven't had the chance to use.”
*Shudder!*
The man broke out in a cold sweat at the hostility and emotionlessness in those words.
“...Who in the world are you?”
“Where is Elder Cheol?”
When the man hesitated to answer, Ouyang Jue pressed him again.
“Answer me!”
At the same time, a burst of finger wind shot from Ouyang Jue’s fingertips.
***
“Will you follow?”
At those words, Ik Hyeon followed his master down from Mount Hua.
Master and disciple are one body; how could a disciple refuse his master’s will?
But strangely, not a single Daoist came out from the Reception Hall, and the path down was very quiet.
Moreover, all the first-generation disciples of Cheol Geum-san's faction, like his master, and their own second-generation disciples were gathered.
And yet, it was silent.
‘...What is this?’
Even the narrow paths of Mount Hua, usually lined with sharp, glinting rocks, felt strangely serene today.
Except for the faint scent of blood wafting through the air.
A hesitant look appeared on Ik Hyeon's face.
“Master, this is...”
“Say no more.”
“...”
Ik Hyeon obeyed.
It was the will of the master who had taken him in since childhood.
There was no way he could refuse.
Instead, he looked ahead of his master.
There was the elder famous for his title, Ink Stone Iron String.
A small flame flickered to life within Ik Hyeon.
“Are we running away right now?”
...*Thud.*
At those words, the descending footsteps came to a halt.
The faint scent of blood seemed to grow thicker.
In fact, someone drew a sword.
It was a Daoist from the faction of Ink Stone Iron String, Cheol Geum-san. Ik Hyeon had even spoken with him from time to time.
Although their conversations always ended with him scolding Ik Hyeon for his shortcomings, he had considered him a friend of sorts.
But with the situation like this, even Ik Hyeon, with his slow wit and lack of wisdom, began to have his doubts.
The smell of blood that had just started, the sharp ring of the Daoist's drawn sword.
Ik Hyeon thought.
He remembered how Ouyang Jue had once been curious about Cheol Geum-san's faction.
‘Maybe, no, it can't be...’
His head snapped around.
The second-generation disciples, one step removed, looked clueless, but the first-generation disciples, taken in directly by Cheol Geum-san, seemed to have something on their conscience.
‘For a group rushing down the mountain this late at night, it's too...’
...quiet.
Ik Hyeon recalled the past corruption of the Golden Ring Merchant Guild.
No matter how much the Sect Leader sat at the very top simply approving matters, the Golden Ring Merchant Guild could not have committed such fraud alone.
In that case, couldn't one say that someone of elder rank or higher had helped them?
And then the Senior-most Brother's coma, and the subtle current flowing within the Mount Hua Sect.
Ik Hyeon unknowingly covered his mouth with both hands.
But he soon removed them with a hardened expression.
Because there was something he had to ask.
“Um...”
To seek the exact reality, the truth he did not want to witness, Ik Hyeon struggled to part his lips.
“Were we... the faction that did this to Mount Hua?”
The moment those words were out, a shout erupted.
It was like a switch used to quell the cries of the weak.
“How dare you not watch your tongue in the presence of the Grandmaster!”
At that, Ik Hyeon flinched, letting out a sharp, "Keuk."
The bitter chuckle quickly spread through his entire body, turning into a loud laugh.
“Ha, hahaha!”
The laughter that burst from Ik Hyeon flowed through the trees lining the narrow path.
With those words, Cheol Geum-san’s faction had all but admitted their involvement in the recent events.
Because of this, the faces of several disciples turned red.
But those were the second-generation disciples.
The first-generation disciples were silently steeling their resolve.
They might have known from the very beginning.
That one day, a great calamity like this would befall the Mount Hua Sect.
Just then, Cheol Geum-san spoke.
“Cut down anyone you can't trust, without exception.”
“Yes!”
The moment the order was given, drawn swords swung out, clad in madness.
*Splat, shlick!*
They cut down the second-generation disciples they had taught for years without a hint of hesitation.
Blood splattered across the narrow path.
Eyes filled with betrayal turned to look behind them, but the situation did not change.
It was their masters.
A deep sorrow filled them, for how could they strike down the masters who had taught them?
Like Ik Hyeon, those who were cut down were disciples who had been taken in since childhood.
“...”
Instead, the eyes of the first-generation disciples allied with Cheol Geum-san only grew deeper and colder.
Ik Hyeon belatedly drew his sword and swung.
A curve—a variation he had learned through painstaking effort after clashing with the other rising talents.
But.
*CLANG!*
Beneath a sky that was gradually darkening as the sun set, the two swords clashed with a clear ring.
At the same time, Ik Hyeon felt a stinging sensation. A faint spark flared before his eyes.
But the stinging sensation didn't seem to be just from the spark.
A familiar face was revealed.
“...Senior Sister Mo-yeon.”
“Don't call me that.”
Yeong Mo-yeon replied primly and corrected her stance.
The moment he let his guard down, that stance would transform into a killing blow.
Ik Hyeon was tense, his palms sweating.
How long could he last?
‘Not long.’
Just when he thought he had finally seen the light.
*Grit.*
Despair seeped into his mind. He wanted to scream his resentment at the heavens, asking why it had to be this way.
Seeing him like this, Yeong Mo-yeon’s gaze turned quite bitter.
“I'm sorry, Senior Brother.”
“Who's your senior brother?”
Ik Hyeon coldly cast aside their bond.
Even as they spoke, blood that had spurted from nearby landed on his cheek.
What was warm grew cold so quickly.
Was the bond of having studied the sword together under the same faction this easy to break?
He didn't know.
He had only felt something vaguely before.
‘The Master of the Law Enforcement Hall’s faction was unusually young. And my master’s sworn brothers also took on disciples quickly.’
This was a rumor that circulated from time to time.
The rumor that Cheol Geum-san cherished talent, taking in disciples at a young age and indebting them so they would follow only him.
Of course, the latter rumor was erased by Cheol Geum-san's faction. It would be more accurate to say it was forcibly erased.
Because even Ik Hyeon himself had been overwhelmed with ‘gratitude.’
‘And yet, this is how I’m treated.’
While parrying Yeong Mo-yeon's techniques, Ik Hyeon assessed the battle.
The second-generation disciples who had belatedly realized Cheol Geum-san and the first-generation disciples' intentions had begun to fight back, but their efforts were feeble.
It was the first-generation disciples who had taught them in the first place.
Ik Hyeon bit his lip, hard.
‘How could second-generation disciples like us possibly win?’
Furthermore, a prodigy like Yeong Mo-yeon seemed to have been aligned with the first-generation disciples from the start.
Just then, Yeong Mo-yeon asked carefully.
“Senior Brother... it's not too late.”
“Shut up.”
A thick killing intent emanated from Ik Hyeon’s entire body.
“No matter what anyone says, no matter how lacking my martial arts are, I, Ik Hyeon, am a Daoist of the Mount Hua Sect. That fact will not change.”
“...Then I have no choice.”
As Yeong Mo-yeon raised her sword, and even Cheol Geum-san, who had been observing from behind, was about to join the massacre.
There was one who came down the narrow path.
“Cheol Geum-san, from this moment on, you are no longer a disciple of Mount Hua. I forbid you from using not only your Daoist name, but also the secular name you received from Mount Hua.”
“...You.”
Before Cheol Geum-san could even begin, Liu Zhangming replied.
“Therefore, I, Liu Zhangming, on behalf of our sect's leader, Bai Duanxian, and the Senior-most Brother, Ha Jin-ak, will punish this nameless assailant.”