Chapter 171
Chapter 171
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 171
Chapter Title: Kongtong Sect
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The moment the door closed, Dang Hangsamgwang felt his heart sink.
He had no desire to end his days as a third-rate or even second-rate nobody like all the other small fries. To one day surpass the wall of peak realm—that was the dream of every martial artist, wasn't it?
That was why Dang Hangsamgwang had honed his eye for discerning others' skills, avoiding masters while traveling in a group of three to fend off anyone on their level.
Their strategy had proven highly effective. As long as they didn't walk into an inn and immediately run into three peak realm experts.
'One guy weaker than us, my ass? Did we fall into a trap?'
Dang Hangsamgwang glared at the thug. But the thug, oblivious to the look, just grinned with puffed-up bravado.
"Kill 'em all!"
He still hadn't grasped the situation. Then again, what could you expect from a third-rate street punk?
Dang Hangsamgwang's eldest brother scolded the thug in a stern voice.
"Kill who? What nonsense is this to people who just came to eat?"
"Right! Kill those bastards first, then enjoy your meal at leisure."
"Hah, what the hell are you babbling about? Who comes to an inn looking for a fight?"
"Huh? But earlier you clearly said..."
It was obvious what came next. Some remark that would irk the masters.
Dang Hangsamgwang's second brother swung his hairy palm, slapping the thug across the face.
Smack!
With a sharp crack, several small yellow objects flew from the thug's mouth and rolled across the floor.
"Clearly? Clearly my ass! Who the hell do you think we are?"
Dang Hangsamgwang's second brother bellowed, but he kept all his attention focused on the sensation prickling at his back.
The nape of his neck stung. The young man who had just shut the door was watching from behind.
It felt like a blade could plunge into his skull at any moment.
His legs trembled, and a numb chill crept up from his groin like he might wet himself.
The thug, clutching his face after losing three teeth, looked around and finally realized something was wrong. He lacked the eye to judge martial prowess, but he could read the mood.
'...Is that beggar stronger than Dang Hangsamgwang?'
Frantically scanning the room, the thug spotted Dang Hangsamgwang glaring at him.
And he knew instinctively. Dang Hangsamgwang planned to sacrifice him.
No matter how he thought about it, there was no way out unscathed. The thug yelled desperately.
"You ugly sons of bitches! Real men would at least—"
Dang Hangsamgwang's youngest brother immediately smashed his fist into the thug's face, half pulping it. There was a crunching sensation from the thug's nose and jaw—he'd be lucky to live like a normal person from now on.
Fifty-fifty chance of death, and even if he survived by some miracle, he'd be eating mush for life.
One man's life had just ended halfway behind them, but Dang Hangsamgwang's eldest and second brothers flashed warm smiles and bowed deeply.
"Our apologies. We got caught up in something ridiculous and caused a scene."
"Enjoy your meal, elders!"
Dang Hangsamgwang clasped his hands in a crisp salute, bowed low, then tried to drag the limp thug out of the inn as naturally as possible.
But Hyun-gong stood unmoving. If he planned to let them go easily, he wouldn't have closed the door.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Pardon?"
"Sit."
Hyun-gong nodded toward the table beside them.
Dang Hangsamgwang started to pull out a chair at the indicated table, then smoothly dropped to his knees beside it instead.
It was an utterly servile move, but swift and spot-on, earning Hyun-gong's quiet admiration.
Since he'd decided to build up Hong Geolgae's presence, he might as well go all the way. Hyun-gong turned to Hong Geolgae.
"What do you think?"
"Hmm."
Suddenly holding the reins, Hong Geolgae pondered for a moment.
From the group's perspective, killing them all was the simplest solution. But that would likely cause serious trouble for the innkeeper and waiter. If Dang Hangsamgwang's vengeful friends came looking, they'd take it out on the inn instead of Dang Mujin's crew.
A momentary satisfaction leading to backlash on the innkeeper and waiter wasn't ideal. Hong Geolgae glanced at them. Sure enough, tension filled their faces.
"What would you suggest?"
The innkeeper and waiter replied timidly.
"Dang Hangsamgwang has a bad reputation, but we've heard they haven't killed anyone in this village. Maybe let it slide this once?"
Dang Hangsamgwang, faced with unexpected mercy, looked deeply moved.
Hong Geolgae clicked his tongue.
"You only survive because the innkeeper here has a soft heart."
"Of course, we meant no harm! Anyway, our thanks for the kindness."
"We pass through here often. If the innkeeper vanishes or weird rumors start, it'll turn into a big problem."
"Our apologies. We're not that kind of scum. No need to worry."
Dang Hangsamgwang stood boldly, but caught Dang Mujin's group watching and dropped back to his knees.
The atmosphere wasn't right for getting up yet.
Dang Hangsamgwang asked Hong Geolgae.
"By any chance, do you have some business with us?"
"Yeah. Ever heard the name Yu Jingwang?"
Dang Hangsamgwang looked puzzled. Hong Geolgae asked again.
"What about Radiant Light Sword?"
"Radiant Light Sword! Yeah, we've heard the nickname. But we're just honest small-timers—no connections to big shots like that. He's got a scary reputation, too..."
Dang Mujin asked Hong Geolgae.
"Who's Radiant Light Sword?"
"Apparently, folks around here call Hero Yu the Radiant Light Sword."
A sword faster than light. Dang Mujin thought it suited him well.
Silence fell briefly. Dang Hangsamgwang gauged the mood, fidgeting as if to stand.
"Then we'll take our leave, elders. Have a good evening."
"Not done yet. Know anyone who might know where Radiant Light Sword is? Or someone up on rumors?"
Dang Hangsamgwang mumbled he didn't know and tried to rise, but spotted Hong Geolgae's right hand still gripping his staff tight and thought better of it.
Talk more or taste the staff. If he had to choose, talking was wiser.
"There was a guy named Yong Ilseon back in the day. He had the widest network around here and knew all the gossip."
"Why talk like it's ancient history?"
"The Kongtong Sect martial artists captured him."
Hong Geolgae, listening, clicked his tongue.
"Round and round, back to the Kongtong Sect. Leave one to guide us. The other two can go."
Dang Hangsamgwang whispered among themselves, then stood—leaving only the youngest—and headed out, remembering to grab the nameless thug.
Overjoyed at escaping the tiger's den unscathed, their faces beamed. The youngest scowled with resentment, though.
The situation settled for now. But Dang Mujin sensed something off in Dang Hangsamgwang's tale.
"If he's dead, he's dead. What do you mean 'captured by Kongtong Sect'?"
"That Yong Ilseon punk must've had talent or some useful martial arts."
Hong Geolgae answered, but Dang Mujin still didn't get it. Namgung Myeong explained.
"You know how sects usually raise disciples?"
"Grab kids with good potential and train 'em."
"Right. But Kongtong Sect doesn't do that."
"Then how?"
"Kongtong Sect takes unorthodox martial artists or dark path wanderers as disciples. Some knock on the door themselves, others get dragged in by Kongtong martial artists. Sounds like Yong Ilseon was the latter."
Dang Mujin's chopsticks paused mid-motion. Namgung Myeong's words sounded absurd. What kind of sect was that?
Hyun-gong, reading Dang Mujin's expression, took over the explanation.
"Kongtong Sect has one of the longest histories, but it hasn't been classified as righteous for long. It started as something between righteous and unorthodox—or more like a coalition of sects."
"Really? First I've heard."
"Dang Mujin. Know any Kongtong Sect martial arts?"
Dang Mujin shrugged.
"Nope. Never even met one."
"Even just by name."
"Only the famous ones. Demon-Subduing Sword, Marrow-Draining Palm, Three Yin Centipede Claw?"
"Don't those names strike you as odd?"
Dang Mujin thought it over.
Martial arts names usually had a touch of flair and bravado. Like Namgung Clan's Sovereign Sword Forms or Soaring Bow Limitless Sword, or Wudang's Taiji Sword.
Beggars' Sect's staff techniques had weird names, but Dragon Soaring Eighteen Palms sounded cool. Naming was like that.
But the three Kongtong arts Dang Mujin named felt different.
Demon-Subduing Sword. A sword harboring demons.
Marrow-Draining Palm. A palm that sucks out marrow.
Three Yin Centipede Claw. Centipede claws infused with yin energy.
For righteous sect techniques, the names were brutally savage. He'd assume demonic arts from the names alone.
Hyun-gong continued.
"Most Kongtong Sect arts are rooted in demonic techniques. They capture unorthodox martial artists, reform them, and absorb useful elements from their arts to evolve their own."
"Kongtong competes with Wudang, but isn't that a harsh judgment?"
Hyun-gong waved it off.
"No way. Their signature inner art, Mixed Origin Single Qi Skill. Heard of it? Know what it means?"
"Not really."
"It means blending(混元) the best into(元) one inner art skill(一氣功). It captures Kongtong's hybrid identity. Doubt me? Ask any Kongtong martial artist. They won't love it, but they won't deny it."
Who knew the supposedly plain Daoist Kongtong Sect hid such secrets.
Dang Mujin chewed thoughtfully, then spoke to Dang Hangsamgwang's youngest beside him.
"You. What's your name?"
"Yi Gyu, sir."
Yi Gyu was at least ten years older than Dang Mujin, but he took the informal address without complaint. In the martial world, skill trumped age in hierarchy.
"Yi Gyu. Give it a few years, you might be a Kongtong peak realm master. Congrats."
But Yi Gyu's face darkened deeply.
"If I may be so bold, could I guide you right up to Kongtong Sect and then bail?"
"Why?"
"I've heard Kongtong grabs small-timers like me, teaches them arts, but kills them without hesitation if they're not the right material. Even if I never break peak realm, I want to live as long as possible."
Dang Mujin patted Yi Gyu's back.
"Whining already? You'll never make it. Charge in believing you can do anything. Got it?"
"Yes..."
Yi Gyu's expression grew even gloomier.
*
Dang Mujin figured heading to Kongtong meant turning south, but contrary to expectations, the group kept going north. Kongtong's Bone-Changing Pavilion—where they reformed captured unorthodox martial artists—was far from Kongtong Mountain.
Makes sense. To catch unorthodox fighters, camp where they gather.
The four in Dang Mujin's group moved lightly. But Yi Gyu, burdened with all their luggage alone, dragged his feet endlessly.
"Keep your eyes front. Why keep looking around?"
"Just staying vigilant in case suspicious types approach, elder."
Yi Gyu scanned constantly for escape chances. But outpacing four superior martial artists? Impossible.
The farther north, the weather shifted subtly.
The air grew crisp and dry, tall trees thinned, replaced by ankle-to-knee grasses blanketing the land. Poor soil for farming.
One day, as they traveled, Dang Mujin's group spotted over a dozen sword-wielding men charging toward a distant village.
Dressed in fur like typical bandits, they moved far faster than ordinary folk—lightness skills, no doubt.
The village looked decent-sized. Maybe a hundred residents.
Namgung Myeong frowned.
"Those bastards are raiding the village."
Regardless of daily habits, Hyun-gong, Namgung Myeong, and Hong Geolgae fancied themselves righteous vigilantes.
Dang Mujin's group hurried toward the village to intercept, Yi Gyu trailing reluctantly.
But as they neared, Hyun-gong spotted people chasing the bandits.
Seven in total, men and women mixed. Unlike the bandits, they wore neat clothes and carried plain swords.
Hyun-gong slowed.
"Not a raid. Those are Kongtong Sect martial artists—the bandits are fleeing from them."