The Dragonclash Wind (1)
Nine million nyang was no small sum of money.
No—one million nyang per person was already a staggering fortune. With his own stake subtracted, eight million nyang would come rolling in. There was not a single reason to refuse.
"You're in, I take it?"
Sam Gwang-ho asked.
"You'll participate, no conditions?"
Xuanhuan Man-so nodded.
"And the rest of you?"
Sam Gwang-ho asked, turning to the others.
"Count me in."
Eum Gu-yeo said, raising a hand slightly.
"Everyone else is doing it, so I might as well."
Following Eum Gu-yeo, Jeok Sa-in, the Battle Divine Demon, spoke up.
"I'll join as well."
"Same here."
The women declared their participation in unison.
Only two remained now: Namgung Won-mu and Gul Han-so. The group turned to look at them.
"Money to be made and fun to be had... why not."
Gul Han-so smiled faintly.
That demonic smirk.
Eum Gu-yeo shuddered despite himself.
What made Gul Han-so all the more unnerving was that very smile he had just worn. Contempt, killing intent, and mockery blended in exquisite proportion—so much so that though it was technically a smile, it soured the mood of anyone who saw it. That was why those who knew Gul Han-so called it the maso—the demon's grin.
"Since everyone's in, I'll play too."
Last of all, Namgung Won-mu declared his participation.
"There we go!"
Sam Gwang-ho, who had proposed the bet in the first place, slapped a million-nyang promissory note down on the table.
"So you came prepared from the start."
Eum Gu-yeo produced a bundle of notes as well.
"I'll pay tomorrow."
Xuanhuan Byeok said.
"I'll have mine ready by tomorrow too."
Those who had money paid on the spot; those who hadn't would deliver by the next day. Namgung Won-mu would hold the pot.
"When we capture him, where do we take him?"
Xuanhuan Byeok asked.
"The Funiu Inn."
Namgung Won-mu said.
"Isn't that the inn at the entrance of the Funiu Mountains?"
"It is."
"Can we just bring back his head?"
Xuanhuan Man-so asked.
"We don't know what his face looks like."
Dang Chwi-ryeo said. Meaning a head would be useless even if they brought one back.
"So we have to take him alive."
Xuanhuan Man-so stuck out his lips, clearly displeased at the prospect of a live capture.
"That's right. And even traces of coercion won't do."
"Why ever not...?"
"Someone could capture a different man, threaten him, and pass him off as Je Suryong, couldn't they?"
"So it has to be a clean capture, brought in alive."
"Light King, if I brought back a single head and said, 'This man is Je Suryong,' would you believe me?"
"...Fair point."
Xuanhuan Man-so nodded.
"Now, let us move on to the second matter."
Eum Gu-yeo said, looking at Namgung Won-mu.
"The second matter is the very reason I called you all here. I'm told Yul Han-cheon, Vice-Minister of the External Eight Desolations Ministry, has come out carrying something."
"What is it, that he'd do such a thing?"
Xuanhuan Man-so asked.
"The Demon Ghost Sword Tubes."
"There are many kinds of Demon Ghost Sword Tubes, as I'm sure you know."
"The ones he brought number four in all: the Ten-Sword Tube, the Five-Sword Tube, the Three-Sword Tube, and the Two-Sword Tube."
"And why do you think he brought them out?"
Xuanhuan Man-so asked again.
"Asking because you don't know?"
"Asking to confirm."
"The Wisdom King is likely right."
"You mean they'll use the Demon Ghost Sword Tubes to determine the master of the Jangbodo?"
"Isn't that the best way to settle a contest when the contest itself produces no winner?"
"Will you take part?"
"That is precisely what I wished to ask. If Yul Han-cheon demands that one of us be singled out by the Demon Ghost Sword Tubes—what will you do?"
"..."
The group fell silent.
"Anyone who's scared is welcome to sit this one out."
Sam Gwang-ho said, his face beaming with triumph.
"So you've completed the Giant Spirit Demon Art, I see."
Namgung Won-mu said.
The Giant Spirit Demon Art was the martial art Sam Gwang-ho had mastered—a divine art said to grant an indestructible, diamond-like body once all twelve stages were complete. To be unafraid of the hidden weapons fired from the Demon Ghost Sword Tubes meant, in other words, that the art was complete.
"In any case, I'm in."
"If the Power King is playing, there's no reason I can't."
Gul Han-so said with a raspy chuckle.
"Hohohoho! I'll play too."
Xuanhuan Byeok burst out laughing.
"Ugh!"
"Ngh!"
The men groaned.
It was because of the sinister energy laced in Xuanhuan Byeok's laughter. Hearing a laugh saturated with demonic bewitchment and killing intent churned their insides and let stray thoughts creep into their minds.
They hastily wound the bet back down and stilled the frenzy it had stirred.
"A proper test of nerve. It's been a while."
Sam Gwang-ho said, biting his lip slightly as if his pride had been wounded.
"Well then, I should be off to earn my share."
Xuanhuan Byeok was the first to step outside.
Dang Chwi-ryeo and Ji Yak-ran followed, and the men trailed after them. A short while later, only Namgung Won-mu remained in the room. Then the door opened and Namgung Ji-yong entered.
"How was it?"
Namgung Won-mu asked.
"Every one of them has grown stronger than before."
"I imagine so. Before, defeating my eight senior brothers would have made one nothing more than the Alliance Chief of the Murim. Now, one would be Emperor, ruler of all under heaven."
Namgung Won-mu nodded.
"It will grow fiercer, crueler, and more cowardly still."
Namgung Ji-yong said.
"There's no helping that."
"You must prepare your heart as well, my lord."
"Prepared... I already am, Ji-yong."
A colossal energy erupted from Namgung Won-mu's body. It seized complete dominion over everything around him.
"Ugh!"
Thud!
Namgung Ji-yong dropped to his knees where he stood. Kneeling had not been his will. The invisible pressure had drained the strength from his legs before he even realized it.
"My lord!"
Namgung Ji-yong cried out, his face alight with emotion.
"No one—no one—shall ever stand above me again."
Low, yet vast as a roaring tide, the declaration flowed from Namgung Won-mu's lips. The moment his words ended, the energy vanished as though washed away.
"My congratulations, my lord."
Namgung Ji-yong bowed his head.
"Report."
"A rumor is circulating in secret that what the Heavenly Physician Wagons carry is not merely the Jangbodo for entering the Invincible Fist King Earth."
"There's more?"
"Have you by chance heard of the Undying Jade Spirit?"
"The legendary demon-creature?"
"It first appeared a thousand years ago, and it is said that by its hand the Blood Cult—then the most powerful force under heaven—was annihilated to the last man."
"Such legends have come down to us. And yet..."
"The rumor says that very creature is being transported."
"Do they say what this creature looks like?"
"That is..."
"Many legends surround the Undying Jade Spirit. Some say it is a sword with a will of its own. Some say it is a demon-creature. Some say it is a spirit-beast steeped in thousands of years of cultivation. Which is to say, no one has ever laid eyes on it. It exists only as legend."
"In any case, the rumor of its transport is spreading."
"More importantly—has anything surfaced about that man, the Geomseonin?"
"Nothing worth noting, save that he is the longest-surviving of all the Geomseonin."
"Capture him first. With eight million nyang riding on him, I can hardly hand him over to someone else, can I?"
"Yes, my lord."
Namgung Ji-yong bowed his head and went out.
Saaaaaah! Saaaaaah!
As afternoon deepened, the wind was growing fiercer by the hour.
"The Dragonclash Wind."
Namgung Ji-yong shook his head.
The Dragonclash Wind was the name for a wind in which the south wind and the north wind blew at once. Each wind, driving headlong toward the other, met in the center and became a violent vortex, birthing a whirling dragon-column of air.
"When the wind blows like this, finding him only gets harder... but find him I must."
Whoosh!
Namgung Ji-yong's new form shot off toward the reed fields.
Tss-tss-tss-tss! Sss-sss-sss-sss!
The moment he launched his body, countless movements stirred within the reed field. They were members of the Shadow Dance Azure Sky Squad, over which Namgung Ji-yong presided as commander.
"Our target is Je Suryong. Anyone who stands in the way of his capture..."
Shing!
Namgung Ji-yong drew his sword.
"Kill them all!"
Shing! Shing! Shing! Shing! Shing!
The members of the Shadow Dance Azure Sky Squad answered with the ring of drawn blades. Then they vanished into the reed forest.
Saaaaaah! Saaaaaah!
The reeds bent their backs to the breaking point in the savage wind.
It's begun.
Jin Yigang murmured inwardly.
He was still flat on his belly, his body hidden deep within the reeds. Reeds jutted from him everywhere. Some were stuck straight into his hair; others had been threaded through slits he'd cut into his clothing with a knife, one small hole at a time. By the time he was done, he had become a walking clump of reed leaves.
In that state, he moved quickly when the wind blew and slowly when it fell still. The Dragonclash Wind was exactly the wind he had been waiting for.
He had leapt down from the wagon the moment he learned the season of the Dragonclash Wind was at hand.
It's gone well so far...
The problem was that he had not yet covered even half the distance to his target point.
Rush and you lose. The more urgent it gets, the slower you move.
He kept murmuring to himself as he pressed on. Some twenty jang in, he stopped dead. Three jang ahead, enemies waited. One he might have managed. But there were three.
No choice but to go around. I avoid filth because it's filthy, and I avoid danger because it's scary. Step wrong on this muck, slip, and my skull cracks open.
He shifted toward the river.
But there was someone down there too.
And this one is...
Jin Yigang slowly rolled over onto his back. He picked up a reed to cover his face, raised his blade, and snapped off a single reed stalk.
Snap!
Hm?
Hak-su's eyes widened slightly.
He swept his gaze left and right, eyeballs alone, scanning his surroundings.
That was definitely the sound of a reed snapping.
He had snapped plenty of reeds himself by now; the sound was familiar.
Snap!
Got you.
A cold smile formed at the corner of Hak-su's mouth.
Capture Je Suryong.
That had been the order handed down tonight.
A great reward awaits whoever makes the capture.
That great reward is mine.
He slowly drew in his lower body and crouched. Then he moved toward the source of the sound. He had already pinpointed the exact location from the sound moments before. He advanced with care. Even if he was spotted, they said the man had no martial arts—subduing him would be no problem. The only issue was that if that happened, he'd have to split the reward with the comrades nearby, and if a squad leader showed up, he'd lose the whole thing.
But contrary to his hopes, someone was watching him.
Squad leader Hak-su is moving alone.
One of the members who had been observing Hak-su sent a transmitted voice.
Where's he headed?
Toward the river.
That bastard Hak-su isn't the type to move on nothing.
Right. Hak-su's a snake. He's probably sneaking off to hog the reward for himself.
We move after Hak-su too.
Yes.
Five men began trailing Hak-su in silence.
Here.
Hak-su carefully surveyed his surroundings.
The place where the reed had snapped was definitely here. But Je Suryong was nowhere to be seen.
Before he turns me into an offering for the dead, I'd better hurry...
Hak-su held his breath. To his left was a single clump wrapped in reed leaves. It looked for all the world like an ant nest built out of reed leaves.
His gaze dropped to the ground.
If it was an ant nest, ants should be crawling to and fro. But not a single ant was in sight.
What do I do? They said don't kill him—but nobody said anything about not hurting him.
He stared quietly at the object he had taken for an ant nest.
There. The throat!
The instant the decision was made, his hand shot out. His right hand, fingers spread wide in a grasping claw, hurtled toward the clump of reed leaves at blistering speed.