Chapter 30
Chapter 30
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: All or Nothing
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Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae entered the cave.
The cave was wide enough for two people to pass side by side comfortably, and high enough for an adult to stand straight without issue.
Dang Mujin examined the cave walls, thinking the size seemed too artificial and uniform.
Sure enough, there were marks from pickaxes striking the rock. It looked like the narrow cave had been widened by human hands.
Hong Geolgae, walking beside him, muttered.
"Those bandits... think they'll die?"
"The one with the broken leg might live if he's found in time, but the scarred one? Ninety percent chance he's done for."
Dang Mujin replied indifferently.
He felt uneasy about using medicine like poison to harm people, but considering the evils those bandits had committed, he didn't regret it.
Especially the scarred one, who had proudly boasted of his atrocities—he was the kind of villain who deserved death. Dang Mujin almost wished he'd just cut his throat on the way out.
The cave was quite deep. They'd walked quite a distance, yet the end wasn't in sight.
The damp weather made the torch emit thin wisps of smoke as it absorbed moisture. The acrid smoke and smell stung their eyes a bit.
After walking some more, the path split into two.
One path was lit, with several unlit torches prepared. The other was dark, with a faint foul stench wafting from it.
"Which way should we go?"
"Want to split up and check one each?"
"Not sure if we should separate."
As they pondered, they heard signs of movement from the direction they'd come.
"Wait. Someone's coming."
Hong Geolgae immediately dropped to the ground and pressed his ear to it, trying to gauge the number of approaching people by their footsteps.
Sweat beaded on Dang Mujin's palms. This was completely different from when they'd faced the bandits earlier. Back then, even if things went wrong, they could fight them off and escape.
But now they were inside the cave. Only one entrance. If the bandits noticed and blocked the exit, there'd be no way out.
Dang Mujin watched Hong Geolgae's expression, hoping for good news. But Hong Geolgae's face grew increasingly grave.
Suppressing his anxiety, Dang Mujin asked.
"How many?"
Hong Geolgae stood up with a hollow laugh.
"So many footsteps, it's like the clacking of looms."
"Ah, damn it."
If it were just one or two, they could hide in the cave and ambush them.
But this many—too many to count—meant the bandits were coming in with full confidence.
In other words, they'd been spotted. Not only were they outnumbered, but a surprise attack was impossible.
"What do we do?"
"Hell if I know. What do you think we should do?"
The question came back as a question. Dang Mujin thought for a moment, then placed his hand on his sword hilt.
"What else? We drag out as many companions for the road as we can."
Neither Dang Mujin nor Hong Geolgae had any intention of groveling on the ground to beg for their lives. It might not be the fruit of courage, but the reckless bravado of youth.
The two steadied their breaths and waited for the bandits. Their minds raced with how to deal with them, but no solutions came. Life doesn't always provide answers at every turn.
It wasn't long before the bandits appeared. Just counting the visible ones, there were over twenty. Who knew how many more lurked out of sight.
A bandit with an eyepatch over one eye swaggered forward and spoke.
"We noticed some heads missing, so we checked. Looks like some fools barged in without a care. Who the hell are you? Where are the ones on patrol and the ones resting inside?"
"No need to ask me. You'll find out where those guys are soon enough."
Dang Mujin set down the torch and spun his sword in circles.
A pointless motion, but Dang Mujin thought it made him look strong.
A foolish idea, but it actually worked. A few bandits flinched.
The eyepatch bandit clicked his tongue in disdain.
"Kids. Clean 'em up quick before the stronghold chief gets here!"
The eyepatch one wasn't the Zhangshang stronghold chief, apparently. Still, he seemed fairly high-ranking—maybe a deputy chief.
The bandits charged. Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae stood side by side, swinging their weapons at the oncoming foes. They couldn't fight freely with each other in the way, but it was better than being picked off one by one.
"Hup!"
"Reverse Dog Haunch Intercept!"
Dang Mujin swung his sword, and Hong Geolgae covered the brief opening that followed. Then Dang Mujin blocked the gap Hong Geolgae exposed.
Their movements meshed oddly, filling each other's voids. The result of sparring together for over a month.
It might have been the most basic form of coordinated formation. All such formations probably started with two people back-to-back, or a few shoulder-to-shoulder against advancing enemies.
"Deputy chief! These bastards are stronger than they look!"
"No breaks—keep pressing, you idiot!"
It didn't take long to pile five corpses in front of the two.
Of course, Hong Geolgae and Dang Mujin had taken minor wounds too. A sword graze on the ribs. A blade mark near the ear. Numerous small cuts on the forearm.
But no fatal blows.
If they were really lucky. If they could keep fighting without tiring like this, maybe they could survive.
The moment Dang Mujin thought that, the bandits' mood shifted.
Those in the back shouted loudly.
"He's here! The chief's here!"
"Fall back!"
The bandits halted their attacks and plastered themselves against the walls.
In the narrow cave, a path opened for one person alone.
Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae caught their breath and stared down the path. A massive figure approached.
"Face like the world's best."
"You can tell he's deranged just from his eyes."
The two quipped playfully, but they couldn't hide the tremor in their voices. The Zhangshang stronghold chief looked that strong.
The Zhangshang chief was half a head taller than the other bandits.
Beneath thick eyebrows, fierce eyes gleamed sharply.
Yeah. Those eyes alone told the story. A man who'd killed countless people. His face reeked of blood.
The Zhangshang chief cracked his neck and stepped forward.
In his right hand was a handaxe. But his empty left hand looked just as threatening. His fist, twice the size of a normal man's, resembled a heavy iron ball.
"Plenty have tried to raid Zhangshang stronghold up to now."
The chief spoke in a low voice. Surprisingly, he sounded pleased.
"But they all died. So fewer and fewer bother trying. Shame."
Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae sensed faint inner energy in the chief's voice. Enough to infuse his words with qi—he had to be at least first-rate.
The chief read their tension and smiled in satisfaction.
"You're not even petty thieves. You know martial arts. How much more fun could this be!"
The chief burst into mad laughter, truly delighted. The joy and killing intent pierced the air like needles on skin.
"Fuckin' chatterbox!"
Hong Geolgae couldn't hold back and charged the chief.
He had no choice. Waiting longer would let the chief's pressure freeze them solid.
"Dog-Fending Skyward!"
Hong Geolgae's staff thrust from below upward, aiming for the chief's chin.
The chief deflected it with his left hand against the staff's side. Despite his bulk, his movements were nimble and precise.
"You think I'm some amateur? Calling out your technique names!"
"Whether I call them or not!"
The chief's axe followed, grazing Hong Geolgae's shoulder. A deeper swing might have severed half his arm.
Dang Mujin jumped in, swinging his sword. The chief blocked it with his right arm's axe while simultaneously shoving Hong Geolgae's staff with his left.
The chief handled both effortlessly alone. An overwhelming gap in skill.
'At least first-rate.'
Each clash sent the chief's inner energy flowing down Dang Mujin's sword.
As the freak physician had taught, Dang Mujin minimized contact time, deflecting and bouncing the axe away.
Even so, traces of the chief's qi seeped into his body. His guts churned.
'Short contacts, end it quick.'
But there was no way to end it quick. Against peers, maybe. But you can't finish a master swiftly.
The fight dragged on inevitably. Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae's clothes shredded, wounds accumulating as blood streamed down. Yet still, no fatal hits.
It wasn't that Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae dodged lethals. The chief simply didn't land any.
The chief toyed with them both leisurely.
The usually calm Dang Mujin—physician and aspiring blacksmith—now burned with hard-to-contain rage.
Proof that a warrior's pride dwelled in his heart.
"Die already!"
Dang Mujin unleashed the freak physician's forms repeatedly. But his sword never reached the chief, always halted just short.
"Fuck!"
Hong Geolgae fared no better. If anything, he was getting pummeled far worse.
Reasons abounded, but one stood out gravely.
"Head-Striking Rod! Dog-Fending Skyward! Rod to Pick the Mangy Dog!"
Please shut your mouth!
Hong Geolgae was still calling out his techniques. Names reveal form and intent, and a master like the chief would see right through.
Like announcing your attack to a superior foe—repeat it a hundred, a thousand times, his staff would never touch.
Dang Mujin's blood boiled. If only he'd shut up. Distraction might let him land one strike.
"Urk!"
Hong Geolgae tumbled across the floor from another kick.
Kneeling halfway, coughing blood, he charged again.
His mouth still wouldn't stop.
"Head-Striking Rod!"
Head-Striking Rod: Strike the head to scold. The chief's left hand reflexively rose toward his head.
In that instant, Dang Mujin caught a faint smile on Hong Geolgae's lips.
He understood its meaning.
'He mixed in a lie.'
Instead of striking the head, Hong Geolgae hurled his staff and rushed the chief.
And he shouted.
"Ma Jeon-gae."
Dang Mujin's eyes met Hong Geolgae's. Danger gleamed in them.
The chief and bandits didn't grasp "Ma Jeon-gae." Hemp Field Beggar? What technique?
For a split second, the chief's left arm hung adrift.
But Dang Mujin understood.
The act Ma Jeon-gae had shown. Throwing his body for one chance.
'This, damn—!'
An inferior facing a master must stake everything, sooner or later.
Hong Geolgae staked for Dang Mujin. The pot: his life, and Dang Mujin's.
In the all-or-nothing moment, hesitation had no place.
Dang Mujin swung at the chief with full power, pouring all his inner energy into one strike.
But the chief's axe flew toward Dang Mujin's waist even faster. Deciding to end it, killing intent surged from the blade.
As is, he'd die to the axe before his sword connected.
Yet Dang Mujin didn't dodge or withdraw. He trusted Hong Geolgae to block the axe somehow.
Hong Geolgae's lowered shoulder slammed the chief's gut hard. But the chief didn't budge easily. Instead, he kneed Hong Geolgae's chest.
"Urgh!"
Blood sprayed from Hong Geolgae's mouth. Yet he held firm, arms wrapping the chief's upper body.
Not enough—he followed the freak physician's secret grappling art, vines climbing the chief's arm, entwining it.
Still short, his hand climbed to the axe, grabbing the blade. No hesitation in the reckless move.
It meant plenty. The axe's path twisted aside.
The chief's axe grazed Dang Mujin's waist and veered off.
But Dang Mujin's sword reached the chief's nape.