Chapter 276
Chapter 276
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 276
Chapter Title: Covered in Blood
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Two flying rings grazed the necks of two unorthodox warriors, and hot blood sprayed out.
The sleeping unorthodox warriors jolted awake, drenched in blood out of nowhere, and grabbed their swords.
"Ambush!"
"Get up!"
Jinhae couldn't gauge the skill level of the first two who died.
Dang Mujin probably couldn't either. Waking up in the dark to blood spraying, clutching their throats as they died—what basis was there to judge their prowess?
Jinhae stood a short distance away, Yahrul Ran and Yahrul Hwan tucked under his armpits, calming his mind.
'If they need help, I have to jump in right away.'
This was practically the first time Jinhae had watched Dang Mujin and his group fight.
On the day of the battle at the Kongdong Sect, he hadn't properly seen their fight.
His head had been full of elation from breaking through the wall to peak realm, and blocking the swords flying at him moment by moment had been burden enough. A mere sidelong glance was all he'd managed.
As soon as Dang Mujin retrieved his flying rings, Namgung Myeong and Hyeon-gong sauntered toward the unorthodox warriors. Their steps were leisurely, but their expressions were fierce as beasts.
The bright red soil staining their sleeves stood out especially. Traces from digging graves for Yahrul Ran and Yahrul Hwan's parents, and the villagers.
Namgung Myeong's sword fell from above.
Hoo—
Jinhae inhaled deeply, immersing himself in the position of the man blocking not Namgung Myeong, but his sword.
A slightly slow sword.
Yet Jinhae's shoulders twitched, even with the two children in his arms.
All escape routes blocked, he couldn't dodge sideways and had no choice but to raise his sword to block.
Just as Jinhae thought, the unorthodox warrior lifted his sword. The pressure he felt must have been immense—he was supporting the blade with his left hand, knowing it would slice him.
Better to lose a hand than have your head split open.
But Namgung Myeong's sword, swung with one right arm, was far too heavy.
A sword intent on crushing, smashing, pulverizing. And yet, at the same time, the sword in Namgung Myeong's hand was impossibly sharp.
The unyieldingly firm and razor-edged blade dug into the opponent's sword body.
The unorthodox warrior let out a groan, crushed by terror.
"Hngh!"
One strike. In just a single sword stroke, Namgung Myeong's blade carved from the man's head down to his gut.
Jinhae felt a chilling sensation from his own crown to his belly.
At least the corpse was cleanly severed thanks to the blade's sharpness. Small comfort for the dead, though.
'···.'
Jinhae glanced aside. He saw Hyeon-gong advancing, swinging his sword.
The Wudang Sect's Taiji Sword.
Not heavy like the Namgung clan's sword. Not meant to take a life in one strike. Far from aggressive, it was extremely defensive.
Yet Jinhae's knees twitched involuntarily.
Each time Hyeon-gong advanced a step with sword raised, the opponent in front of him had no choice but to retreat a step.
The overwhelming defense transcended passivity. It denied the foe any entry into one's domain. That was the essence of defense.
Even if two attacked together, or three, nothing changed.
Hyeon-gong always advanced, the opponents always retreated. As if it had been decided from the start.
Retreating and retreating, eventually there was nowhere left to go.
Like when their back hit a cliff or tree, or they tripped over a rock while stepping backward.
Without fail, Hyeon-gong's sword would close in then.
Clang—
Hyeon-gong's sword knocked the unorthodox warrior's blade far away.
The man instinctively thrust out both arms to block with his sword, but what sword couldn't stop, bare hands certainly couldn't. Blood soon gushed.
A man trying to slip away from the fight appeared. Hong Geolgae naturally appeared to block his path.
Hong Geolgae dispatched one man simply, then unlike Namgung Myeong and Hyeon-gong, returned to his spot instead of pressing forward. He scanned the surroundings, checking if anyone approached Dang Mujin or Jinhae, or if anyone tried to flee.
While the unorthodox warriors' attention was drawn to Namgung Myeong and Hyeon-gong, blood suddenly spurted from their necks. The flying rings that had sliced through the air once more returned to Dang Mujin's hand.
It took less than half a shichen to wipe out the entire group of unorthodox warriors.
Jinhae watched the entire scene in a daze.
The four, with their unrelated martial arts, harmonized like a joint formation, overwhelming their foes.
Not because their martial arts synergized perfectly, but because they knew exactly how to move.
'No, maybe it's just that each one's skill is too superior···.'
Jinhae felt embarrassed for no reason. He'd foolishly argued against Namgung Myeong's words that he wasn't yet a true martial artist.
If Namgung Myeong had shown him this scene first and said the same, he might have nodded reluctantly.
The four began moving again as soon as the fight ended.
Jinhae carefully followed behind them, mindful not to wake the children.
Once they were a good distance from the unorthodox warriors' corpses.
And as the sun rose, brightening the surroundings, the two children dangling under Jinhae's armpits woke up.
The kids blinked sleepily but said nothing for a moment. They looked puzzled about the situation.
Yahrul Ran spoke first.
"Where are we?"
But before Jinhae could answer Yahrul Ran's question, Yahrul Hwan, looking around, pointed ahead in surprise.
"Blood!"
Unlike Dang Mujin or Hong Geolgae, Namgung Myeong and Hyeon-gong's bodies were splattered with blood.
Namgung Myeong made an excuse.
"We had so much leftover food from yesterday that a tiger smelled it and showed up. We were running away from the tigers."
"Tigers!"
Yahrul Ran jumped in shock. Children react easily to stimulating words.
He thought it'd pass like that, but unexpectedly, Yahrul Hwan asked sharply.
"If you were running, why's there blood? Did you get hurt?"
Then Yahrul Ran, under the other armpit, scolded him.
"Idiot. Of course they won. They're grown-ups."
Yahrul Ran harbored the subtle illusion that adults should naturally beat tigers.
Their father must have bragged a bit much in life. Namgung Myeong nodded.
"Yeah. Of course we won. But there were too many tigers, so we had to fall back."
"Mom and Dad will worry if we're not home···."
As Yahrul Hwan muttered, Hyeon-gong replied.
"···They said they'd come find you later."
Jinhae thought Hyeon-gong's expression was subtle. Seemingly full of mischief at a glance, but somehow tinged with darkness.
Yahrul Ran asked incredulously.
"Really? Dad never said that."
"Of course it's real. Your dad has a bushy beard, right? Mom's this tall with a mole by her eye."
A reasonable guess, but it wouldn't be wrong. Among the villagers Dang Mujin's group had buried, only one couple fit the age to raise kids that young.
Only then did Yahrul Ran and Yahrul Hwan seem to cast aside their doubts.
"Hmm. Why didn't they tell us?"
"You wouldn't wake up, so they told us instead and left."
Hyeon-gong smoothly deceived the kids. Young children sleep a lot, after all.
"If they're coming later, when?"
"They went far to buy you gifts, so it'll take a while. I'd say at least a hundred nights."
"A hundred nights?"
The kids just looked a bit bewildered. They didn't seem to fully grasp what it meant to live apart from parents.
"If they're lucky, maybe sooner, but even rushing, it'll be over fifty nights. Still, since they went far, expect amazing gifts. Just wait patiently."
Twenty nights is manageable to count. But fifty or a hundred is absurdly long for kids.
They'd count days at first, then forget where they left off, gradually growing accustomed to life without parents.
That's how orphaned children live on. As Jinhae set the kids down, they toddled after the group.
The group exchanged glances and brief words, keeping it from the children.
"Wudang Mountain?"
Meaning, like how Hyeon-gong grew up, how about taking these kids to Wudang Mountain?
But Hyeon-gong shook his head. Wudang folk were kind-hearted and would treat the kids well, but they'd never accepted women before.
If lucky, Yahrul Ran could be the first girl in Wudang, but if not, the siblings might be separated for life.
"Namgung's tough."
Namgung Myeong nodded. The Namgung clan was insular, centered on blood ties.
Not a great option for Yahrul Ran and Yahrul Hwan.
Hong Geolgae waved it off first.
"Beggars' Sect's no good either."
"Wasn't even considering it."
Not impossible, but a poor choice.
Dooming four-year-olds to beggar life could be kindness or cruelty.
How many are suited to begging, after all?
Dang Mujin spoke.
"We'll have to talk to Zhongnan, Huashan, and Qingcheng once we're out. If no one steps up, I'll take them."
Jinhae should have spoken up too, but he held back, gauging reactions. No point jumping in rashly.
Better to leave it to other Qingcheng Daoists, like handing it to Gongryeong.
But staying silent felt a bit cowardly, so Jinhae changed the subject.
"Aren't you tired?"
Dang Mujin answered lightly.
"With the kids awake, resting because we're tired isn't a great choice."
He didn't seem to be forcing it, though. Dang Mujin's group chatted casually as if they didn't even remember the night's frenzy.
Jinhae was probably the most exhausted here.
'I just want to lie down anywhere and rest.'
While trudging along, occasionally responding to Dang Mujin's group, Jinhae realized he was now mixed in among them, joining the conversation.
They seemed overly lively now. Enough to naturally draw in an outsider.
It hadn't felt this way traveling with other Daoists.
'Were they holding back to act proper around others?'
Not quite accurate. They hadn't been that proper then either.
But propriety is relative.
Compared to their current rowdy street-kid banter, they had indeed been acting reserved.
Being among Dang Mujin's group was surprisingly fun. The atmosphere was just that upbeat.
Even just listening without chiming in brought smiles.
Namgung Myeong approached Jinhae.
"Your expression's improved."
"Body's tired, but mood's good."
"Be like that not just with us, but in front of Qingcheng Daoists too."
Jinhae's steps halted. It made sense yet felt foreign.
Namgung Myeong continued.
"A serious face makes you feel like you're worrying about the future, preparing. Acting prim and grave feels like you're someone great. But grimacing doesn't make hardships vanish. Nor does special luck come solve your problems."
"···Sound advice."
"So no need to force a tragic air in front of Qingcheng Daoists. Just remember and don't forget. Don't get serious for show. The Dang family head once twisted his life doing that."
It felt like Namgung Myeong was peering into Jinhae's innermost thoughts, making him want to crawl into a hole.
Jinhae had killed the Dang brothers not from pure hatred, but because he thought he should.
A disciple who lost his master should harbor deep grudge. One with heavy duties must be resolute and steadfast.
Master Yeonghe's absence was vast and deep, but not reason enough to kill the Dang brothers.
"No one's perfect. Everyone's a bit crazy. You need to be a little crazy too. Unless you want to bottle it up till you snap."
Only then did Jinhae realize why Dang Mujin's group felt different from other 'friends'.
They weren't perfect, like anyone else. But they didn't pretend to be.
They each practiced different martial arts that meshed well, and each veered slightly differently.
Yet Dang Mujin's group didn't hide it.
They were ready to bare their flaws openly, accept each other's casually. 'That's just how he is.'
Realizing that lightened Jinhae's heart.
"Good advice. Being around bright souls lifts my spirits too. I can feel the Namgung clan's bold family spirit."
Namgung Myeong's expression turned odd.
Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae burst out laughing.
Wondering if he'd misspoke, Jinhae looked around awkwardly.
Dang Mujin said.
"See that crooked nose? Dad broke it. Left arm too, Dad cut it off. Bold family tradition, sure."
"Uh···. Yeah. I see."
"Hyeon-gong's childhood was like these kids'. Hong Geolgae didn't have a carefree youth either. Nature and youth take up big parts of life, sure, but they're just the starting point. What matters most is where you aim to go."
Namgung Myeong leaned in and whispered to Jinhae.
"Ignore that guy's smugness. Sounds profound, but it's empty inside."
Without warning, Dang Mujin hurled a flying ring at Namgung Myeong.
Namgung Myeong deftly extended his left arm, sacrificing three wooden fingers to catch it successfully.
As always, when Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong bickered, Dang Mujin took the loss.
Jinhae watched, then unwittingly burst into laughter.