Chapter 155
Chapter 155
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 155
Chapter Title: Yangyang
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Rising Dragon Sword Hyun-gong had a habit of rating people.
His criteria varied. Martial prowess, backing, reputation, and so on.
There were all sorts of standards and miscellaneous bonus points, but the two most important ones were martial prowess and backing.
In Hyun-gong's eyes, he rated himself around seventeen out of twenty.
He possessed peerless skill among his contemporaries, so factoring in growth potential, his martial prowess earned a nine out of ten. His status as Wudang Sect's top young disciple gave him about an eight for backing.
Rising Dragon Sword Hyun-gong meticulously evaluated Dang Mujin's group one by one.
First up was the familiar Nangong Myeong.
'Nangong Myeong is a bit odd. Losing an arm but improving his skill?'
Until recently, people had ranked Hyun-gong a couple of levels above Nangong Myeong. Hyun-gong had thought the same.
But the Nangong Myeong he met after so long was a completely different person. Speech, aura, martial prowess—everything.
Hyun-gong tallied up Nangong Myeong's overall score.
'Martial prowess on par with mine, so nine out of ten. Backing is ten out of ten. Total nineteen.'
Their martial prowess was even, but Nangong's backing outshone his.
Wudang Sect was a fine sect, but it paled a bit next to the Nangong family.
Wasn't the Nangong family the most renowned among countless prestigious houses? Their current patriarch was even Sword Ghost Nangong Jincheon, who had surpassed the Absolute Realm.
After a moment's deliberation, however, Hyun-gong adjusted Nangong Myeong's score.
'Losing an arm means slightly less growth potential. Gotta dock a point.'
Even minus one, that made eighteen—still a notch above his own seventeen.
'...He was always decent, but now I should get even closer to him.'
Next came Nangong Myeong's two lackeys.
The beggars stood out the most.
'First-rate prowess. Six out of ten? No, maybe six and a half. Backing looks unremarkable. Beggars' Sect status might be four or five points. Walking around with a nobody subordinate.'
He was about to move on with that thought when he spotted the five-knotted rope. Hyun-gong's eyes widened.
A Five-Knot Beggar was vice branch leader level, and there were only five in the entire Beggars' Sect.
Six-Knot was branch leader and Law Beggar. Seven-Knot was elder. Eight-Knot was Next Beggar, the successor sect leader. Nine-Knot was the sect leader.
Even Law and elders were somewhat numerous, but all ranks from Five-Knot up combined barely reached fifty.
Sure, fiftieth in rank might sound minor. But the Beggars' Sect was infamous for its numbers. Tales spoke of a hundred thousand beggars.
The Beggars' Sect's fiftieth ranked member carried far more weight than that of other massive sects.
Hyun-gong approached Hong Geolgae and asked in a soft voice.
"You're Hong, the young hero, right? If I may ask, how old are you this year?"
"Twenty-two."
"Ha ha. I'm two years older. Call me casually."
"Got it."
"...?"
Casual speech flew out as if he'd been waiting. But Hyun-gong didn't mind much.
Becoming a Five-Knot Beggar at twenty-two was hugely significant, no matter who saw it. This went beyond mere top fifty status.
No one climbed to Five-Knot at twenty-two through ordinary achievements. Absolutely not.
'He's not faking his rank, is he?'
Unlikely. Nangong Myeong wouldn't keep someone like that around.
Come to think of it, Hong Geolgae used casual speech even with Nangong Myeong, who was a year older.
Nangong Myeong keeping a mere first-rater by his side—and letting him speak casually—meant he saw Hong Geolgae as an equal.
A realization struck him then.
'Come to think of it, I heard the Next Beggar position is vacant.'
His eyes lit up. It all clicked perfectly.
'This guy's the designated Next Beggar.'
Next Beggar meant the Beggars' Sect leader's successor.
In other words, a designated Next Beggar was effectively the next sect leader.
Not even Wudang Sect, let alone the Nangong family patriarch, could compare to a Beggars' Sect leader. Wasn't the Beggars' Sect the largest organization in the martial world?
Debate might rage on whether they were number one in raw power, but in headcount, they were undisputed.
'Martial prowess six and a half, backing ten out of ten. No, even more than ten wouldn't be excessive. Total at least seventeen, then.'
Judging him at minimum his equal, Hyun-gong adopted an even friendlier demeanor.
"Hong, young hero. Let me know anytime if you need anything."
"Sure. You drop the formalities too."
"Haha. Should I?"
Two years younger, yet not calling him brother—just equals.
A flash of 'rude punk' crossed his mind, but thinking of him as the next Beggars' Sect leader made it feel natural. Weren't they both set to lead the next generation of Central Plains martial world?
'Nangong Myeong's cunning too. Starting to act like a grown-up, huh.'
Finally, Hyun-gong's gaze turned to Nangong Myeong and Hong Geolgae's lackey. The one called Ui-ryong or something. Arms crossed, Hyun-gong slowly sized up Dang Mujin.
'Subtle attainment, but young with plenty of growth potential. Eight, maybe eight and a half.'
The key was backing, then. Lacking clues, Hyun-gong addressed Dang Mujin.
"Young hero Dang."
"Ah, I'm twenty-two too."
"Not age. I'm curious about something else. What's your sect?"
"None."
"...But you've learned martial arts."
"I'm not from a martial family. I'm from a physician lineage."
"Family arts, then?"
"No. It's a plain physician family with no martial ties. By lucky fate, I learned from Senior Yi Chung."
So, a disciple of the Strange Physician Yi Chung.
Yi Chung was famous enough, but still just an individual. And not exactly well-regarded by the world.
'Martial prowess around eight. Backing maybe four. Total twelve? No. He's tipped as next of the Three Great Physicians, so add a couple points.'
Fourteen. Useful enough, but not equal footing.
'Once we build some rapport, letting him call me brother should suffice.'
Hyun-gong looked at Dang Mujin with a slightly arrogant gaze.
*
After two days of diligent travel, the four arrived near Yangyang.
Eager to enter, they halted in unison upon spotting someone prowling the outskirts.
He looked like a fruit picker at a glance, but something felt off. Instinct screamed: that guy's most likely a Salmak lookout.
"Let's rest a bit."
They sat at a suitable spot, rubbing their legs.
During the brief break, Hyun-gong asked.
"What's the plan now?"
Nangong Myeong replied.
"Simple. We'll raid Jin Manor in Yangyang."
"Why Jin Manor?"
"That's Salmak's headquarters."
Nangong Myeong tossed out the conclusion without explanation, but Hyun-gong just shrugged.
"The intel source is dubious... Well, we'll see when we get there. Any more backup?"
"Nope."
Hyun-gong pressed with a reluctant tone at the curt reply.
"You know their strength, right?"
"No."
"...That's just four of us, including me?"
"Yep."
"And you're still hitting Salmak's main base?"
"Right."
He'd assumed the talk of three taking on Salmak was bravado. Apparently not.
Hyun-gong stared at Nangong Myeong.
'What the hell is this guy thinking?'
If he had some plan, fine. But Nangong Myeong's slightly blank expression suggested no hidden ace up his sleeve.
Hyun-gong calmly assessed the situation. Guiding the foolish was an elder's duty.
"Think rationally. Does that even make sense?"
"Scared?"
He'd asked if it made sense, not this. Hyun-gong's voice rose a notch.
"No, it's not about that. Let's act sensibly."
"If you're scared, bail."
"Who said I'm scared? You know that's not the issue."
He bristled since admitting fear wasn't an option, but truthfully, he was a bit scared.
Hyun-gong wanted to live long, become Wudang's sect leader, and live prosperously. Blessed with talent, dying young would be a shame—especially his own life.
Hiding his inner thoughts, he continued.
"If this were the Orthodox-Demonic War, I'd throw my life in with the rest. But this is revenge. Wanna fail and die like a dog? To nameless assassin trash?"
Dang Mujin, listening quietly, chimed in.
"Ever seen an arrow too afraid to break stay away from the bow?"
It was such a cool line that Hyun-gong filed it away for his own use someday.
Cool line aside, no sane person could endorse the plan.
Hyun-gong pondered, then offered a clever solution.
"Any reason we have to hit Salmak tonight?"
"None."
"There's a mid-tier sect I know in Yangyang. How about their help?"
"Hmm."
Dang Mujin looked displeased. Hyun-gong sighed softly.
"You said you let Salmak remnants slip in Zhuul Village due to lack of numbers. Gonna repeat that mistake? Let them all escape again and call it revenge?"
Catching fleeing remnants mattered if things went well.
But more crucially, reliable allies were vital in emergencies.
Hyun-gong had no desire to die for others' revenge and glory.
"You're right. If we're doing this, we should be thorough."
Dang Mujin nodded at last. A mid-tier sect—not Wudang—meant no risk of them stealing the show.
"Good. I'll head in first and request aid. My face isn't known as your accomplice. I'll gather support troops—meet at Yangyang's central grandest well by midnight."
"Understood."
Hyun-gong beamed with pride. His eloquence and sharp mind had swayed the three fools.
"Don't be late."
With that, Hyun-gong headed to Yangyang.
*
The next night, Dang Mujin's group rose in the darkness. A drizzle fell as usual.
Unexpectedly, Nangong Myeong wore neither black garb nor mask.
"No black clothes tonight?"
"Can't. Might get mistaken for Salmak."
"Hm."
The three cautiously approached Yangyang's outskirts.
Long past dusk's descent into pitch black, yet someone still wandered the perimeter.
He even patrolled the same area as the previous day's lurker. As if ordered to guard it.
"Hold up."
Nangong Myeong melted into the shadows, emerging behind the man.
Without warning, he clamped the man's mouth and tore open his top. Rip—revealing a black butterfly tattoo at his solar plexus. Salmak.
Crack. Nangong Myeong snapped his neck, then beckoned Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae.
They crept up silently.
"Let's go."
The three slipped into Yangyang, muffling footsteps and presence. The dark, drizzly night meant few traversed the streets.
Soon, a large well appeared. And around it, some twenty warriors.
No Absolute Realm experts, but all seemed second-rate or better. No riffraff for this dangerous night.
Hyun-gong confidently introduced them.
"These great heroes from Righteous Sword Sect will help us wipe out Salmak. This is their sect leader, Yangyang's Yang Kwak."
"Just a humble swordsman. Glad to lend a hand in such a vital matter."
Yang Kwak clasped hands humbly. Early forties, neat attire, imposing aura.
Hong Geolgae looked highly pleased at the sizable reinforcements.
But Dang Mujin and Nangong Myeong felt an odd twinge.
They'd never been to Yangyang or met Yang Kwak. Yet Righteous Sword Sect rang a vague bell. An itchy, almost-there memory.
A Righteous Sword Sect disciple caught it first—not Dang Mujin or Nangong Myeong.
"Uh...?"
The disciple scurried to Yang Kwak, whispering in his ear.
Brief whisper, but Yang Kwak's face turned deadly serious.
After a pause, Yang Kwak addressed Dang Mujin.
"Um... young hero, may I have your name?"
"Dang Mujin."
"Our instructor says your face looks familiar. Were you at Nogun Mountain around last year?"
Dang Mujin and Nangong Myeong stiffened.
Nogun Mountain. Righteous Sword Sect.
Now it clicked. The Absolute Realm expert Dang Mujin had turned into a hedgehog and killed on Nogun Mountain was their previous sect leader.
Yangyang wasn't far from Nogun Mountain. Should've considered it.
Dang Mujin gave an awkward smile.
"What a coincidence. Hope you're not blood enemies with the previous sect leader. That'd be awful. Right?"
"Of course. He was my father."
Yang Kwak grinned wide and gestured to his disciples.
"Kill."