Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Moon Maiden Ha Ah-rin - [4]
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Ha Ah-rin first met her master when he introduced himself as being in his sixties. His appearance, far younger than his claimed age, he attributed to his exceptional brewing skills.
That's how people are. They seem to hold some grudge against their actual age and never state it plainly. In their youth, to avoid being underestimated, they inflate it two or three times. In old age, to dodge being treated like elders, they shave off about half.
She only learned years later that her master was actually a few years younger than her. She couldn't believe it back then.
"So the bit about being too old for any social activities was a lie, huh?"
Her master replied to Ha Ah-rin's words.
"Yeah."
"Then come down the mountain with me, Master!"
"What, to join the patriotic cause together?"
"Exactly!"
"No thanks. Don't try pushing weird stuff on me."
"Weird stuff?"
Her master recited his usual philosophy.
"Patriotism is just a trick to send the young ones charging into bullets, and ethnicity is an illusion."
As a woman dreaming of avenging the Queen Mother, Ha Ah-rin felt rage rising, but she didn't snap. She'd heard it all too many times before.
Ha Ah-rin switched tactics.
"Your master—wasn't he a patriot? You gonna ignore his will?"
Her master sighed.
"That's why I raised you."
"Raised me?"
"All the teachings my master gave me, and the spirit pills she passed down—I gave them all to you. So you carry on her patriotic work in my place."
She didn't truly believe he'd showered her with everything just to have her fulfill his master's legacy in his stead.
Ha Ah-rin recalled how her master always sneered whenever she vowed to avenge the Queen Mother. It seemed he was dead set on discouraging his young disciple's actions.
So why had he bestowed all that upon her for free? Even now, descending the mountain, she still didn't know.
Ha Ah-rin walked on.
Her master came to see her off as she left the mountain. He gave her a final farewell.
"If it gets too tough, quit."
"Can I come back then?"
Her master paused a moment before answering.
"No."
Ha Ah-rin chuckled.
On the path down the mountain, she felt a pang of regret at going alone. It would've been nice if he'd come along. How could such a kind man, always helping others, lack any patriotism?
She would learn the reason much later.
Word had it her master lacked not just patriotism or ethnic pride, but any sense of belonging to the people of this land.
It stemmed from a traumatic childhood experience.
When was it she heard the story? She'd run into her master by chance on the street. It was well after the Eulsa Treaty had been signed.
When Ha Ah-rin pressed him to finally step up and face the nation's crisis, her master had shouted in fury.
The memory of everyone refusing aid, leading to his sibling's death, burned vividly in his mind. It made it impossible to see fellow countrymen as reliable neighbors. That day's ordeal severed his ties to the land.
Belonging. Back then, she hadn't grasped its importance.
But now Ha Ah-rin understood.
When you feel alone, belonging vanishes. With it goes patriotism and all that nonsense.
And the more people around, the greater the loneliness.
A strange sound echoed.
It could be a Joseon commoner seeking aid—or Japanese soldiers.
The Moon Maiden hurled her sword.
The sky darkened. It was still daytime, but thick clouds blanketed everything, making it feel like evening in the mountains.
Rain might fall. In this mess, deep in the hills, it was nearly dusk.
Piercing the gloomy dark came the Saiin Sword.
Its blade bore the engravings of the twenty-eight mansions. They didn't glow, but the pale red dots gleamed like stars, catching every eye.
Those dots resembled a beast's eyes. A predator scouting prey.
The gathered martial artists' gazes met the sword's "eyes." Was it the tales of this single blade outmatching peak masters? Or the aura it exuded?
They'd heard it wouldn't kill just anyone, yet chills ran down spines. Even battle-hardened veterans shuddered.
But were these people threats to its master? The Saiin Sword merely scanned, holding back.
A few relaxed, forcing smiles. Dressing like independence fighters seemed effective...
A sudden thwack, and a black net unfurled midair. An Imperial Army elite seized the moment the sword hovered, firing the net launcher.
The net was iron mesh. If it connected, it'd neutralize the blade outright.
But no peak master falls to a net gun.
"Got it—"
Someone shouted, then clammed up realizing the miss. Leaving an afterimage, the Saiin Sword dodged and retaliated fiercely at the shooter.
A wretched scream echoed.
"Urk..."
The Saiin Sword pierced the Imperial elite's hand—the one who'd fired.
Tension skyrocketed.
Wasn't the Imperial Army the Moon Maiden's longtime home? Its members should be off-limits, more than firefighters even.
Yet it deemed him enemy for merely firing the net? The sword's judgment seemed flawed—or the Moon Maiden controlling it had poor discernment.
Either way, attire offered no protection; attacks came regardless.
As they moved cautiously, the sword's tip swung toward a martial artist.
He wore independence fighter garb, but the blade ignored it now. Sharing space with the attacker marked him foe.
The Saiin Sword flew.
A peak master's swing blurs to the naked eye.
Every motion of the Saiin Sword matched that—its flight nearly invisible.
Screams erupted from all sides.
Aaagh! Urk! Guh!
Four clutched half-severed hands, screaming in unison.
Few among the gathered saw the blade's path as it grazed them. Even elite reflexes merely blinked.
Among the rare few who tracked it was Elder Jang.
"I'll block it!"
Rated at peak-master threshold, his Taijiquan Sword intercepted the missile-like Saiin Sword. Gasps burst from the crowd.
Elder Jang figured flowing Taiji forms could hold it. He'd heard the blade itself was peak-master caliber—no victory, but containment possible.
Ten seconds proved him wrong. After clashing, he cried out desperately.
"How the hell do you fight this?!"
Sword flight is harmony of blade alone. In flight swordplay, the user's shoulders and waist stay still. No tells to predict strikes.
That alone doomed Elder Jang. No muscle cues? Rely on sight alone against a peak master?
And this autonomous blade pulled inhuman maneuvers freely.
As Elder Jang parried a chest thrust, the Saiin Sword dropped like gravity-pulled.
"Wha..."
Eyes wide at the leg-slicing dive, Elder Jang panicked. No human swordsman pulls that— they'd crumple, exposing head and neck for a counter-slash.
But what neck does a lone flying sword have to sever?
Elder Jang's Taiji Sword guarded high, leaving low open. Legs about to go as he glared—that instant.
Metal clashed, sparks flew.
A distant Taijiquan Sword slammed into the Saiin Sword. Blades tangled wildly.
Heo Pung-gae, who'd launched it, yelled.
"I got no idea!"
Heo Pung-gae glared as the Saiin Sword battered his Taiji Sword.
No delusions of matching her flight swordplay with his novice skill. The gap in proficiency was vast. Sure enough, his sword shattered midair and plummeted.
So Heo Pung-gae charged barehanded.
The Saiin Sword ignored the approaching man, dodging aside.
Heo Pung-gae halted dumbfounded. The sword flew off targeting others.
Screams rang out again.
Frustrated but steadying his breath, Heo Pung-gae thought at least no deaths yet—small mercy.
Elder Jang gasped.
"Where's Gu Ja-seong?"
Heo Pung-gae didn't know either. Scanning for the other peak master who'd help most.
There—up high.
"To the Moon Maiden?"
Gu Ja-seong led brigands charging her position. While the sword carved others, seize the mission?
The Saiin Sword spotted it. Blurring away, it slashed a distant brigand's shoulder.
The agony's scream carried hundreds of meters, vivid here.
Heo Pung-gae's eyes widened. Moments ago mere cuts—why now?
Closer to Moon Maiden meant greater threat. Attacks intensified.
Yet Gu Ja-seong and brigands pressed on, ignoring the wounded.
Crazy bastards.
Heo Pung-gae bit his lip, sprinting to intercept. Elder Jang followed.
Lightfoot skill was Heo Pung-gae's forte. He overtook them swiftly.
Blocking the brigands, he said.
"Stop."
One recognized him, panting.
"Why block us? That bastard's sword is slicing us while you—"
Elder Jang arrived late, breathless. No rest—he swung his Taiji Sword desperately, blocking the Saiin Sword from the brigands.
That bought a moment to talk. Heo Pung-gae shouted.
"Then fall back! Why charge blind? It hits harder up close—someone's gonna die for real!"
He even uttered "die," a word he avoided. But warnings fell flat.
Gu Ja-seong smirked awkwardly.
"The plan was neutralize the sword somehow, then approach the Moon Maiden, right?"
"You remember well. So why?"
"Inefficient, in my view. Charge a machine gun nest, you suppress it first? No—suppress while charging."
What nonsense is this? Heo Pung-gae glared.
Gu Ja-seong caught the look, explaining.
"Hear me out, no misunderstanding."
Heo Pung-gae's glare urged him on. Gu Ja-seong continued.
"Sword's just one blade. Keep charging, some reach the end. Sacrifice accepted, goal achieved."
"So you're forcing the Moon Maiden to kill a few? Stain her hands?"
"A few brigands die. What's wrong with that..."
Brigands nodded agreement. Heo Pung-gae saw their game.
Last incident was one bandit stronghold's doing. Others weren't clean either.
To bury it?
Bigger incident alone insufficient. Need sympathy.
Brigands dying to save national hero Moon Maiden? Perfect fodder for public and prosecutors' pity.
If his hunch held, it was twisted.
Heo Pung-gae figured Gu Ja-seong and President Park were allies. Park's goals were his; sudden brigand exodus from Martial Alliance, sparking clashes topping nine o'clock news—all ploy.
Plan: Brigands spark gunfights, drugs, civilian casualties. Cops and pols can't ignore buildup. Leads to Park's purge: wipe martial world clean.
Korean martial scene shrinks or vanishes—Polish Demonic Cult boss swoops in, conquers easy.
Gu Ja-seong gambles his brigand faction's demise.
So why this? Change of heart? Or hunch wrong?
Heo Pung-gae couldn't fathom, didn't care.
"Scram."
Gu Ja-seong's brow twitched.
"What'd you say?"
"Scram."
Gu Ja-seong's eyes bulged. Lips quivered, parting after ages.
"You little shit. Giving me orders like that?"
"I said scram."
"Forgot how I smashed your grandmaster and master?"
Gu Ja-seong gripped his axe. Low-frequency growl froze nearby brigands.
"Gonna half-kill you too, disciple."
Heo Pung-gae shed gloves, ready.
Gu Ja-seong swung. Thung! Air-ripping boom like cannon fire.
Counter?
Peak master's weapon devastates. Bare hands useless, like against Gangnam's top sword. Dodge only.
Heo Pung-gae sidestepped with footwork, flicking finger at Gu Ja-seong. Tak.
Gloveless metal BB shot eyeward. Gu Ja-seong tilted face.
Not fully dodged. BB hit.
But pain ignored, he twisted waist, axe rising.
No acupoint strike landed. Heo Pung-gae unsurprised.
Iron Shirt. External art mimicking thin armor plating. Gu Ja-seong mastered it to extreme.
Skin somehow coated—hard BB barely dented, qi couldn't pierce.
No wonder he humiliated Heo Pung-gae and Invincible BB Bullet.
Even now as peak master, maybe same. No time for wits or prolonged fight.
Elder Jang screamed watching two peak masters clash instead of help.
"What are you doing?!"
End this quick. How?
Heo Pung-gae offered flesh gladly.
Axe descended—Heo Pung-gae took it on shoulder.
Blade bit muscle. Thunderous pain exploded brainward; lightning surged body, time slowing.
Speed surging, Heo Pung-gae reached.
Golden Claw gripped Gu Ja-seong's throat.
Stranglehold bypassed Iron Shirt. Veins bulged on Gu Ja-seong's brow.
One squeeze, dead.