A Woman's Oath Emboldens a Man's Courage (2)
“It has to fly straight, then curve off to the left as it drops… so this one.”
Jin Yigang hooked two fingers into the groove of the stone and braced its underside with the rest.
Thrown hard in this grip, the rock would scream forward at a terrifying speed before curving left and dropping. Whoever was on the receiving end would find themselves with no choice but to dodge to the right.
Of course, a true master would sense an incoming projectile from behind.
“But batting away a pebble I threw isn’t exactly easy, you know.”
Jin Yigang slid his left foot slightly forward, twisted his body to the right, and drew his arm back.
The leading leg planted itself firmly against the ground, and as his twisted waist snapped back into place, raw power was born. That power traveled up through the arm cocked behind his head, and the arm tore through the air, fast and savage. The force from his legs, waist, and arm compounded with the snap of his wrist, and the instant the combined power peaked, the stone tore free of his hand and shot forward.
Shwi-iik!
It flew so fast the naked eye could barely track it.
But Jin Yigang himself had no idea how quick his throws were. He’d been hurling stones since his days holed up studying, and long since grown numb to their speed.
“Huek!”
Gwang Saeng of the One-Legged Crippled Evil flinched in horror.
Leaping into the air, he was descending while unfolding his Blood Sand Palm—and his target was the enemy leader, Je Hayeong. This one strike, he was confident, would cripple her. After that, he could think about business. He’d already run his eyes over every inch of her body.
Gwang Saeng was maniacally obsessed with women built full-figured and muscular, and Je Hayeong was exactly that. One look at the forearm exposed between her sleeves when she gripped her spear made it obvious. Even soaked in blood as she was, her chest was voluptuous and her hips swelled like a full moon.
She was a woman whose body fit his standards perfectly. The thought of pinning that woman down and squeezing her throat—
He’d sunk too deep into the fantasy. Blood rushed downward, his Blood Sand Palm unfolded sloppily, and his breathing fell apart.
The instant he loosed the crimson palm, a chilling force shot at him from behind. The force drifted slightly left. Under ordinary circumstances he would simply shift right and evade. But his foot was hammering the ground mid-landing, and his legs—his most precious assets—numbered only one.
If he couldn’t dodge, he had to block. But his palm was already out, so even that was impossible.
How sharp can a bastard’s senses and eyes be, to pick such a perfect moment to attack? This is—
Gwang Saeng was stunned.
Every flow in this world had ‘seams.’ Martial arts were no different. Countless seams existed, and joined together they formed rhythm, and rhythm became force. The tighter those seams linked, the higher the quality of the art. Naturally, first-rate techniques left barely a hair’s breadth between them.
But even in a technique whose seams joined perfectly, a sliver of a moment existed where gaps opened—and in that instant, the practitioner stood all but defenseless. The one attacking now had hurled a projectile straight into that gap.
At the absolutely perfect moment.
One option, then.
He swung his only free arm, the left one, behind him.
Paeok!
But the stone dropped sharply out of the air and bored into the back of his knee.
“Kraaaaaagh!”
Gwang Saeng collapsed with a shriek of agony.
“Huh?”
Jin Yigang startled, then swung his left arm anyway. He hadn’t given a moment’s thought to the idea that his thrown rock might actually hit Gwang Saeng—he wasn’t a tiger or a rabbit, after all.
Yet against all odds, the man had taken it to the back knee and dropped. Jin Yigang had loosed a single pebble from his left hand at a breakneck pace. The stone flew dead straight, dipped sharply in front of the fallen Gwang Saeng, and bored into his skull.
Paeok!
“Kraaagh!”
A hideous scream tore out, and blood sprayed.
“Ah!”
“Huh?”
The moment Gwang Saeng died, everyone’s movements froze solid.
“Eh?”
Noe Cho and Bu Ilbi were no different. Both stared at Jin Yigang with faces of pure disbelief.
“Wasn’t me.”
Jin Yigang shook his head and his hands at once. He had thrown with full force, sure, but a master failing to dodge a rock made no sense—there had to be some other reason Gwang Saeng died. That was why he’d waved off the credit.
“Then who—?”
Je Hayeong was stunned. Astonishingly, the one who’d saved her at the very brink of death was Jin Yigang, traveling to Cheondo in her younger brother Je Cheonryong’s stead.
If he’s here, then nearby—
Mu Daebo would be too, she realized. Once it sank in that Mu Daebo had slain the enemy, relief washed over her.
“If it wasn’t you, then who was it?”
Noe Cho demanded, sweeping his Thousand-Li Tracing Art across the surroundings.
“That bastard failed to dodge the rock I threw. That’s all this was.”
“Failed to dodge your rock?”
“Yep. And I throw pretty hard, you know. Used to kill tigers with stones as a kid. So this rock bores into the back of your knee, and he just… doesn’t dodge. You’d know this well enough yourself, you crippled old man—you’re a martial artist—but the back of a man’s knee is awfully fragile. The stone tore the muscle right open, so of course he couldn’t take it. The moment Old Cripple over there dropped, I thought, ‘well, what a windfall,’ and threw the rock in my left hand. You’re a martial artist too, crippled old man, so you’ll understand—letting an opening like that slide is funnier than being a quadruple cripple. And then that idiot didn’t even dodge that. Something must be wrong with Leg-Cripple senior. Now you, Arm-Cripple senior—”
“KRAAAGH!”
Noe Cho could bear no more and stamped the ground.
Cripple. Leg-Cripple. Cripple. Quadruple cripple. Bastard. Arm-Cripple. Every word was mockery aimed squarely at them. And he’d already used ‘quadruple cripple’ before—when Si Byeok and Sim Bul-won had gone off to kill that bastard and never come back, it was obvious they’d been dealt with too.
“I’ll shred you to ribbons and chew you up.”
“Cha-ha!”
With a sharp cry, Jin Yigang swung his left arm.
Swae-aek!
Only the sound reached them; the stone was invisible.
“Not a chance!”
Noe Cho flared his Protective Hard Qi.
“Ta-ha!”
In that instant, Jin Yigang swung his right arm. The stone from his right hand was equally invisible to the naked eye.
‘Ugh!’
Noe Cho recoiled in alarm.
A martial artist’s Protective Hard Qi was nothing like a shield of wood or iron. A shield offered uniform protection and could stop many weapons at once so long as it held, but Hard Qi could only block one attack at a time. That was because it was woven from true qi—layered sheets of qi that weakened an incoming attack a little more with every layer they shattered, sparing the bearer from harm.
The problem was that unlike a shield, the qi wasn’t uniformly strong across the body. It reinforced only the point under attack. So when two strikes landed simultaneously, it could stop only one.
And Jin Yigang had thrown yet another stone. With his Hard Qi occupied blocking the first, he had no choice but to snatch the second barehanded.
Noe Cho reached out his single right hand and caught it.
“Now!”
Jin Yigang said quietly. In that same heartbeat, a black figure burst from behind a tree and drove a palm into Noe Cho’s dantian.
Cheok! Paeok!
The sound of stone meeting palm and the sound of a dantian bursting rang out as one. With a hideous scream, Noe Cho’s body shot into the air.
“Here, eat this one too!”
Where he’d pulled it from, who knew—Jin Yigang flung one more stone. It struck Noe Cho squarely on the head. This time, not even a scream. Noe Cho, who had flown half a jang through the air, crashed down with a wet thud.
“Die!”
Bu Ilbi of the Single-Arm Wicked Evil shot toward Jin Yigang. Jin Yigang retreated, hurling stones as he went—but with no internal force, his retreat couldn’t outpace Bu Ilbi’s pursuit. The gap between them closed in an instant.
“Dodge!”
Mu Daebo roared, unfurling his Flashing Light and giving chase.
“If it were that easy, you jackass, I’d be a master, wouldn’t I? You think I’m third-rate for fun?”
Retreating Jin Yigang suddenly lunged back at Bu Ilbi. For a man with no internal force to charge a peak master was suicide.
“Die!”
The moment Jin Yigang came within arm’s reach, Bu Ilbi thrust his hand out—and Jin Yigang’s body flopped backward flat.
The Iron-Board Plank trick, occasionally used by martial artists. Nearly prone, he pressed both palms to the ground and, as if climbing an icy slope, yanked and pushed hard, lifting his planted feet just slightly to surge forward with the speed of a footwork art. Bu Ilbi’s palm-force came slashing down right over the crown of Jin Yigang’s head.
Puuk!
At that very instant, a spear plunged into Bu Ilbi’s back. Je Hayeong’s thrown spear.
“Keokeok!”
Bu Ilbi screamed and crumpled forward—but didn’t fall. The spear held him up like a prop. Which only made the agony worse.
“Kraaaaaagh!”
He shrieked.
Hwik!
Jin Yigang sprang up, spun, and threw a rock.
Paeok!
The stone bored precisely into the back of Bu Ilbi’s skull.
Silence settled over everything. They simply couldn’t believe they were still alive.
“I am Je Hayeong, Master of the Evil Pavilion of Jecheon Medical Manor. I thank you for saving my life, Grand Warrior Mu.”
Je Hayeong clasped her fists in salute to Mu Daebo.
“I did nothing at all. Everything today was—”
“What are you talking about, you oaf? You did it all yourself.”
Jin Yigang jabbed him in the ribs.
“You?”
Mu Daebo stared at him, eyes round as saucers.
“Thank you, Grand Warrior Mu. You saved our lives.”
Now Mak Hong, leader of the ronin, stepped forward with his own thanks.
“Think nothing of it. Helping people in hard times is just how it’s done, eh? Let’s clear away the bodies and catch our breath first.”
Jin Yigang accepted the thanks on behalf of Mu Daebo, who stood there with a dazed expression.
“Understood.”
Mak Hong gave his men their orders. In roughly half a shijin, the cleanup was done. The bodies of the Five Vices of Heavenly Cripples were left where they lay, unburied. It was Jin Yigang who had ordered them left—if word spread that Jecheon Medical Manor’s martial artists had wiped out the Five Vices, no one would dare attack them rashly again. That was his calculation.
Cleanup done, they moved out. Half a shijin later, the party arrived near Nosuk, a waystation for those who dined on wind and slept under the dew. Built in the style of a Guan Di temple honoring Guan Yu, it was perfect for sheltering from wind and rain and passing a night’s rest.
Been a while since I’ve been to a Nosuk.
Jin Yigang smiled faintly. The long, narrow structure—ten jang across, five deep—looked worn and shabby, long neglected. The ronin scouted the surroundings first.
“We have guests ahead.”
Mak Hong reported on his return.
“Guests?”
Je Hayeong eyed the shelter warily.
“Daebo-yah.”
Jin Yigang called.
“What?”
“Let’s go.”
“I’ll come too.”
Je Hayeong said, stepping down from the carriage. For the sake of appearances, she treated Jin Yigang as though they’d just met.
“Are your injuries all right?”
When they’d first met, she’d suffered internal damage as well as grave external wounds. Now she seemed far recovered.
“There’s nothing Jecheon Medical Manor medicine can’t fix, is there?”
“True enough.”
Jin Yigang nodded, and the two headed for the shelter.
“Is the aunt act still in effect?”
Je Hayeong asked as they drew near.
“If I weren’t thinking of you as my aunt, I wouldn’t have jumped into that fight.”
“They say it was thanks to you that the Five Vices of Heavenly Cripples were wiped out…”
“That oaf was just being modest. Daebo did it all himself.”
“But you two…”
Je Hayeong looked at him strangely. One was a Geomseonin of Jecheon Medical Manor; the other a master strong enough to rank among the Top 100 Under Heaven. Granted, Jin Yigang’s current identity was Je Su-ryong, son of the manor—but even so, the dissonance was enormous. And yet here they were, chatting away like old friends. No matter how she turned it over, it made no sense.
“I’m just a very likeable fellow.”
“Likeable?”
“Yep. But—about that oath. Are you keeping it?”
“What oath?”
“You swore that if he helped you, you two would become his maidservants.”
“You… heard that?”
“Wouldn’t everyone on this mountain have?”
Jin Yigang gave her a sly, narrow-eyed look.
“Wh-what are you doing right now?”
Je Hayeong demanded, flustered.
“Daebo’s a man blessed by the heavens, that’s all.”
“Wh-what is that supposed to—”
“Having women like you two as maids is the dream of every cock on this earth. And Aunt Chuyeong is positively ethereal—not that I’m saying this as her friend, but that Daebo fellow is a genuinely fine man.”
“Either stop calling me ‘aunt’ or stop leering at me like a lecher—you could manage one of the two, no?”
Je Hayeong said, shooting him a sidelong glare.
“You’re the only person alive who’d call this gleam in my eye lecherous. Anyway, there are ten of them inside, and a good number more hiding around the shelter. What do you think, Aunt?”
“What?”
Je Hayeong swiftly unfurled her Thousand-Li Tracing Art.
“Mmm!”
Her face hardened to stone. Just as Jin Yigang had said—quite a few figures were lurking nearby.
“Word about the Five Vices of Heavenly Cripples and the Lone Sword Five Demons will already have spread, so they won’t dare rush us.”
“The Lone Sword Five Demons? Why would they—”
“Daebo killed those bastards too. Shall we see who’s inside?”
Jin Yigang strode into Nosuk.