I Told You Not to Come (2)
Fwat! Fwat! THWUMP!
Jin Yigang rolled the instant his feet touched the ground.
Gurk!
He snorted. It wasn't that the drug's effects had worn off. He'd simply felt strength still left in his body and hurled himself down on impulse. Not that he had any intention of dying — he'd figured that if he rolled on landing, the impact would spread out and it would work out fine. And it had, exactly as he'd calculated.
Granted, it hadn't been painless. But a body that had spent its days being pounded half to death by the Four Swords of Jincheon and the Five Fists of Jecheon — no, the Five Fists of Eternity — could shrug off this much without complaint.
Fwoosh!
Just then, Mu Daebo landed beside him.
"You...?"
He stared at Jin Yigang in open disbelief. Fifteen jang was a height most warriors couldn't dive from. And this man, with no martial arts to speak of, had jumped down and come up unscathed.
"The Four Swords of Jincheon and the Five Fists of Eternity couldn't put me down, so what's a little dirt supposed to do? Don't make me laugh, you oaf."
Fwoosh!
Then the Absolute Five Recluses came down as well.
"We could've handled this fellow two-on-one, you know..."
Jin Yigang looked up at them and said, "So are we supposed to climb back up, then?"
"Yep."
Fwoosh! Fwoosh!
Bukgung Hansang and Gung Yo descended right after.
"What about you two?"
"Figured if we wanted into the Invincible Fist King's Domain, we'd have to earn our keep," Gung Yo said.
"Do as you like."
Jin Yigang smirked and surveyed the open plain. Boulders stood scattered across it here and there — some native to the ground, some surely fallen from the cliff face above, in every size imaginable. And between those rocks, both sides were locked in savage combat. The masked men were gradually being flushed into the open, while the Demonic Shadows remained unseen. But their presence was unmistakable.
"If we attack blindly, we might end up a target for both sides. So stay hidden and just keep the two of them balanced."
Jin Yigang moved quickly, slipping behind a boulder.
"What kind of gutless blustering is that?" Gung Yo asked, trailing after him.
"Have you ever taken a hit from the Four Swords of Jincheon or the Five Fists of Jecheon?"
"Even brutes that ignorant wouldn't strike a pretty girl like me, would they?"
"...Suddenly I'm tempted to hand your pretty head over to them."
"You got hit?"
"For the first stretch, if a single day passed without a beating, I'd get so anxious I couldn't sleep."
"It was that bad?"
"If you want to learn any of them — the Heaven-Earth Opening Fist, the Heavenly Thunder Tempest Fist, the Whirling Arhat Fist, the Explosive Storm Fist, or the Ink Dragon Desolation Breaking Fist — just say the word. I can't show you how their true qi flows, but I can teach you every single form. And if their arts don't suit your taste, you can pick from the Four Swords of Jincheon's instead."
"The Heaven-Earth Opening Fist and the Heavenly Thunder Tempest Fist... aren't those the Five Fists of Eternity?"
Gung Yo's eyes went wide. The Five Fists of Eternity were warriors said to have forged their own schools of fist arts — masters strong enough to rank among the Top 100 Under Heaven without raising an eyebrow.
"They're hired strikers at Jecheon Medical Manor. Wait — they're famous?"
"As famous as the great hero Mu Dae-hyeop. I had no idea men like that were working as beaters for hire. Same with the Four Swords of Jincheon."
Gung Yo muttered, looking utterly dumbfounded.
"Anyway, those bastards pummeled me nearly every single day. Most of the strengthening pills and elixirs Jecheon Medical Manor ever brewed probably went down my throat."
"Well, the rumors about you were spreading even among the Geomseonin."
"What rumors?"
"That you'd die either from poison, or from the Inner Core."
Of everything she'd witnessed as a test subject, the most astonishing had been Jin Yigang — swallowing that mountain of medicine and staying perfectly fine. Even wholesome tonics would wreck a body at that volume, and most of what he'd been fed were things whose ingredients no one could identify. The Geomseonin had even started betting on the day he would die.
Yet the ones who'd placed those bets were mostly dead now, while Jin Yigang was still kicking and hale.
"The poison part I understand, but the Inner Core... oh. They mean they'd cut my belly open to dig it out."
"Yep."
Gung Yo nodded.
"I suppose I should be grateful I never grew one."
Jin Yigang turned his gaze to the front.
"There's one up ahead. Can you sense them?"
He pointed at the empty air before them. Gung Yo quickly deployed her Thousand-Li Clairaudience Art, and sure enough, the faint sound of a person's breathing drifted into her ears.
She stared at him, startled.
"Take the Thousand-Li Clairaudience Pill long enough and you end up like me."
With that, Jin Yigang sprang out from behind the boulder and simply ran straight ahead — looking for all the world like a man who knew nothing at all about anyone lurking before him.
He's moving.
The hidden one stirred.
Swack!
The sound of something cleaving the air followed — then:
THWUMP!
A dull, heavy burst, and a man clad only in his underclothes burst into view. Floating in midair, the man's jaw was simply gone.
Fast.
Gung Yo couldn't hide her astonishment. She'd barely registered the faint twitch of Jin Yigang's shoulder before his opponent was airborne with his jaw shattered.
THWUMP!
"Gurgh!"
This time a scream rang out. A masked man was rising into the air, flat on his back, the jaw portion of his mask soaked in blood.
But what is that faint thing?
Gung Yo tilted her head. She could see nothing else — except a dim, grayish luster bleeding out of Jin Yigang's fist. The moment she laid eyes on that glow, gooseflesh raced across her whole body and she shivered. It occurred to her that perhaps the shattered jaws of everyone who'd crossed him had something to do with that very gleam.
"You are, in every possible way, a mystery of a man."
Shaking her head, she launched herself into the air. Her movement technique melted into the empty sky as she flew.
She closed the distance to Jin Yigang in moments.
THWUMP!
A dull blast tore through the air, and a man in his underclothes appeared, hurtling backward, his chest torn open like rotted cloth.
"I know I'm weak, but the least you bastards could do is scream! If you don't scream, what does that make the poor son of a bitch who hit you with everything he had? I know from experience — the two best ways to take fewer hits are, first, a nosebleed, and second, a good scream."
Jin Yigang retreated sharply.
Swack!
The wind-splitting whistle came from the empty air in front of him — meaning someone hidden had struck at him. The retreating Jin Yigang shot his fist out in answer.
Knack!
But his fist cut only air. His enemy had snapped his head back to evade. In that instant, Jin Yigang's shoulder drove forward and his elbow slammed into empty space.
THWUMP!
With the dull report, the man he'd struck was knocked out of concealment. That was when Jin Yigang's left fist shortened the space between them — in a blink, it buried itself into the man's right temple.
THWUMP!
The dull sound erupted from the man's skull.
That stance —?
Gung Yo's eyes went wide. The movement Jin Yigang had just used to strike at the hidden foe was one of the stances the Thousand Martial Statues held.
It came from one of the statues near the front, and she remembered it down to the finest detail. Not just the arms — the legs matched perfectly too.
Don't tell me he's uncovered the statues' secret...
"You planning to just keep chasing me around?"
Jin Yigang's voice floated over. She lifted her eyes. He was looking straight at her — pinpointing her exact position even under a full concealment art.
"Freak of nature."
Gung Yo shot off toward Jin Yigang's left. That way, a masked man was flying straight at him.
She slid in beside the masked man without a sound. He was so fixated on Jin Yigang that he never noticed her approach.
Gung Yo drew her dagger in perfect silence.
"Hk—!"
The instant her blade swept out, the masked man realized someone had been lurking there and jerked backward — far too late.
Shuk!
Her dagger sank into the side of his neck.
"Gack!"
With a strangled cry, the man crumpled. Gung Yo caught him by the crown of the head as he fell, and the mask peeled away.
"Hey, sis."
She called over to Jin Yigang.
"What?"
He answered from nearby.
"Put this on."
She tossed him the mask.
"They say the pretty ones are stupid. You're the exception, huh?"
Jin Yigang said, pulling the mask on.
"I'm the one who made that saying up."
She shot him a withering glare.
"Well? Does it suit me?"
The masked Jin Yigang asked.
"You look just like those fellows over there."
Gung Yo pointed at the Jeongcheonbu warriors.
"Good. Easier to move around now. Should get one for Dae-bo too... no, he's already wearing one."
Jin Yigang's gaze had drifted to a massive masked figure. It was Mu Daebo, mask over his face — and unmistakable even so. Nor was he alone: all four of the Absolute Five Recluses and Bukgung Hansang were also dispatching enemies behind their own masks.
"I'm the last one to the party, as usual."
Jin Yigang used the boulders for cover and ran forward.
"Gwaaaagh!"
"Aaaagh!"
Screams erupted all across the field — every single one from a Jeongcheonbu warrior. The Demonic Shadows had taken their share of deaths too, but not one of them had made a sound.
Sama Yucheon stood gripping his sword, staring hard at the front. The Demonic Cult, of which he'd only ever heard tales, was every bit as fearsome as its reputation. His own men were hardly weak — and still they were no match.
— We are ready, Commander.
The deputy commander's voice transmission arrived.
— Which way is the wind blowing?
— Released from here, it will drift toward them.
— Good. Release it!
— Yes, sir.
Moments later, a glittering powder filled the air, riding the wind as it spread outward.
"Ah!"
"Ugh!"
Low groans leaked out from every direction.
"They've shown themselves! Attack!"
Sama Yucheon roared.
"Cha!"
"Tah!"
The Jeongcheonbu warriors hurled themselves forward with battle cries. But they were not the only ones laid bare — the luminous powder had stripped away Hwa Mu's concealment as well.
"So you're the one leading these dogs."
Sama Yucheon clutched his sword and leapt. His movement art, fueled by his entire reserve of internal energy, was tremendous — five jang vanished in a heartbeat as his blade came crashing down. Sword-gang erupted from his tip and shredded the ground ahead.
Whoosh!
Hwa Mu did not dare meet the sword-gang head-on and evaded it. The moment she dodged, Sama Yucheon swept his blade horizontally.
Hnn!
Hwa Mu groaned inwardly. This time there was no avoiding it — she had to block. She summoned every ounce of inner force and raised her sword.
KWAANG!
A thunderous impact burst forth.
"Unnh!"
With a groan, Hwa Mu's form was driven straight back. A deep furrow was plowed into the earth where she'd stood her ground.
"That art — the Heavenly Scholar's Ten Decisive Arts?"
Hwa Mu's eyes went wide.
The art Sama Yucheon had just unleashed was the very one that had once heaped shame upon the Demonic Cult. Seven hundred years ago, the Thousand-Year Demonic Cult had marched to conquer the Central Plains, riding from victory to victory — until it stalled in Shaanxi Province.
The man who barred the cult's path was Sama Cheon-in, the Heavenly Scholar Great Sage. With awe-inspiring martial might, he slaughtered the cult's warriors, and the art he wielded then was precisely the Heavenly Scholar's Ten Decisive Arts.
Its defining trait was that the sword-gang, unlike the blade-shaped qi of most warriors, took the form of loose sheets of paper. Those who faced it said it felt like dozens of pages fluttering toward them in relentless succession — and so the energy was called the Paper Gang, the jigang. And that same Paper Gang had just come flying at her.
"Just as in the old days, every scrap of Demonic Cult filth dies today. Cha!"
Sama Yucheon soared into the air, then swept his blade downward. Sheet-shaped sword-gang fired off in unbroken succession.
Hwa Mu clenched her sword with all her strength, poured every thread of internal energy into the blade, and swung.
KWAANG! KWA-KWAANG! KWA-KWA-KWAANG!
"Unnngh!"
Hwa Mu was driven back and back again. The Paper Gang came at her like a flight of arrows as she retreated, and she swung desperately, again and again, to turn them aside.
KWAANG! KWAANG! KWAANG! KWAANG! KWAANG!
Her blade met Sama Yucheon's Paper Gang over and over, the thunderous impacts never ceasing. Each collision sent shockwaves ripping through her. Internal injuries blossomed, and blood welled thick from the corner of her mouth.
THWUMP!
A single sheet of Paper Gang slammed into her chest.
"AAAGH!"
Hwa Mu screamed and went hurtling backward through the air.
"Hm?"
Dok Ji's face stiffened. He turned — and saw Hwa Mu flying away, and Sama Yucheon standing there with his sword raised.
"You cur!"
Dok Ji shot toward Sama Yucheon like an arrow.
"Hey! Don't come here! Get lost, damn it!"
Jin Yigang bellowed at Hwa Mu as she came flying straight toward him. But she kept sailing right at him regardless.
"Cha!"
Mid-flight, Hwa Mu twisted her body and drove her sword toward Jin Yigang.
THWUMP!
"Gurk!"
With a scream, Hwa Mu rebounded away in the opposite direction.
"I told you not to come."
Jin Yigang's body rose four jang into the air. His arms drew in tight, power coiling into his elbows — and in that coiled posture, he dropped like a stone toward Hwa Mu.
