Chapter 490

Chapter 490
“*Hic*.”

Observing him wobble while wiping away the saliva dripping from his lips, the expressions of the Yongbong-jihoe members remained deeply knotted with tension and disapproval.

“You rotten and foul Huk-do trash, *hic*, do you really possess no fear toward the righteous and sacred Murim Alliance?”

Il-gak activated the Nahan-bo and swiftly placed himself in front of Jin So-un.

“Jin Si-ju, we have already verified the situation. This matter is outside our jurisdiction and not for us to meddle in.”

“*Uh-huh*! Choosing to look away even when witnessing blatant wickedness, this bald monk has clearly been corrupted by a devil.”

“Jin Si-ju…”

Il-gak attempted to pull him back, but the unpredictable, shifting forms of the Tae-eul Eight Thousand Divine Steps slipped right past Il-gak’s grasp.

“……”

How was he capable of executing such precise footwork while visibly reeling from alcohol? Though completely stunned, they knew they had to halt Jin So-un. While it was true his martial prowess outshone his contemporaries, it did not mean he was equipped to clash with Jamhyang-cheon-ong, a monstrous figure who had thrived while committing horrific atrocities for decades. Furthermore, he was flanked by the Unae-ogwang, who served as his brutal extension. This was an adversary of a different caliber entirely, incomparable to the martial artists they had overcome at Hwapoong Manor.

“Heed my words, you villainous scum! Did you believe you could perpetrate your crimes in the presence of myself, an emissary of the Murim Alliance, and the Yongbong-jihoe!”

Yet, Jin So-un was far quicker to strike than to talk.

“If the retribution of the Murim Alliance means nothing to you, drop to your knees this instant and surrender peacefully!”

“……”
“……”

Not just Jamhyang-cheon-ong, but even the Unae-ogwang were utterly struck by the absurdity of the demand, casting bewildered glances at one another.

“*Pffft*…”

A moment later, they erupted into booming, mocking laughter that echoed toward the sky.

—*Hahahahahahaha!*

Particularly, the booming guffaw of Amhyang-cheon-ong resonated with immense, dense internal energy, causing fragile items throughout the room to shatter.

*Crack, thud, clang—*

Dishes, platters, and liquor vessels shattered, scattering food everywhere. The helpless civilians clustered in the corner collapsed onto the floor, tightly covering their ears against the agonizing acoustic pressure.

“I had heard rumors that a fairly competent youth had emerged from the Murim Alliance.”

The mocking grin instantly vanished from Amhyang-cheon-ong’s face.

“It turns out you are merely a brainless lunatic. Black Flame Dragon.”

“What nonsense is this cursed, eunuch-bearded old man spewing?”

“What did you say?”

Il-gak gripped his own head—or rather, his smooth scalp. Amhyang-cheon-ong’s face warped as though he were experiencing an insult for the very first time in his existence. In truth, how many individuals would dare to provocatively taunt a legendary madman who had attained such terrifying heights at that age? Beyond that, Jin So-un was behaving exactly like a man who had completely unraveled under the influence of heavy drink.

“You… do you genuinely dare to throw such a tantrum, placing all your faith in nothing but the Murim Alliance?”

Surprisingly, a shadow of genuine bewilderment and concern crossed Amhyang-cheon-ong’s features.

“What are you blathering about, you simple street thug who travels with a pack of children. Will you only awaken to reality once you suffer the absolute justice of the Murim Alliance?”

“Heh…”

Watching a titan of the Huk-do Murim lose his composure with every single sentence uttered, it was impossible not to wonder what bizarre spectacle was unfolding. Even the warriors of the Yongbong-jihoe, who were watching closely for a weakness to exploit so they could assist Jin So-un, were so thrown off by his outrageous insults that they found themselves completely immobilized.

“Are you aware of the massive price the Murim Alliance has placed upon my head? Or the substantial bounties attached to my followers?”

To any member of the Murim Alliance, such information was baseline knowledge. Amhyang-cheon-ong stood as one of the most prominent, long-standing fugitives in existence.

“Why should I care about the price on a insignificant lawbreaker like you?”

“You absolute lunatic!”

“Regardless, I am not in the mood for bloodshed today, so I shall grant you a single mercy. Begone.”

“I am well aware that the Sa-huk Alliance Leader Cha Seok-du holds you in incredibly high regard. It seems I shall have to sever your head and present it to him as a token.”

Just as Amhyang-cheon-ong prepared to unleash the Huk-sal-jan-eum-ji, his ultimate technique and the very art that had garnered him his fearsome moniker of Amhyang-cheon-ong.

*Urk.*

Suddenly, one of the Unae-ogwang gasped, staring down at his own flesh before dropping heavily to the ground to desperately circulate his energy. Within moments, a delicate layer of frost began creeping across his skin.

“A frost technique? From when!”

As Amhyang-cheon-ong whipped his gaze back toward Jin So-un in sheer astonishment.

*Chrrr-r-r-r-r.*

Dozens of razor-sharp sword projections were already descending through the air directly toward him.

“Have you never heard of the concept of a ‘preemptive strike’?”

“You dishonorable wretch!”

A heavy veil of panic settled over Amhyang-cheon-ong’s countenance. It was an ironic reversal, as if the roles of villain and hero had been completely inverted in their dialogue.

*T-t-t-t-t-t-ting!*

Yet, he had no opportunity to voice his outrage further. The barrage of sword techniques was already crashing down before him. Amhyang-cheon-ong began rapidly firing off his Huk-sal-jan-eum-ji to deflect the assault. Concurrently, he kept a wary eye on the freezing affliction that had paralyzed the youngest member of the Unae-ogwang.

*‘There was absolutely no sound, nor any detectable presence.’*

He considered the possibility of a toxin, but to his vast knowledge of lethal substances, no venom manifested with such a pure, biting aura of absolute cold. In that precise instant, Jin So-un bellowed.

“What are you all standing around for! Are you simply going to sit idly by while the criminal stands before us!”

“Curse it…”

The members of the Yongbong-jihoe unsheathed their blades in unison.

—Fortunately, their side has only four active combatants left. If we execute a flawless coordinated formation, we stand a legitimate chance.

Though an undeniable chasm existed in their raw martial achievements, this side maintained the advantage of numbers. Furthermore, with one of the Unae-ogwang crippled before the opening exchange, they believed victory was attainable.

However.

“A legitimate chance? What utter nonsense!”

Naturally, that optimistic strategy shattered into fragments before they could even finish their opening exchanges. It was merely because they operated under the formidable presence of Amhyang-cheon-ong that their individual merits were obscured, but the Unae-ogwang possessed power vast enough to dominate entire territories. Backed by a lifetime of brutal, life-or-death combat experience, the Unae-ogwang quickly began to suppress the Yongbong-jihoe, pushing the young martial artists into a perilous corner.

“Amitabha.”

At that critical juncture, Il-gak threw himself into the fray, and the collapsing balance of power began to roughly stabilize.

“Do you honestly possess the spare attention to fret over that battlefield?”

Hearing Jin So-un’s taunt, Amhyang-cheon-ong curled a single corner of his mouth into a cruel smirk.

“To speak to me of spare attention while facing such a predicament. You have effectively condemned yourself and the entirety of your Sa-gye-jihoe to become wandering ghosts. Are you oblivious to that fact?”

*Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang*

Shifting blades and illusory sword arts clashed violently, and the indoor brawl tore apart, sliced, and perforated every piece of wood and furniture within range. In truth, the moment their weapons collided, Amhyang-cheon-ong discerned that his capabilities far eclipsed those of Jin So-un. He remained ignorant of how such a youth had already stepped into the Dan-sang boundary, but even taking that feat into consideration, his own experience and martial cultivation were vastly superior.

“Sa-gye-jihoe? Hmm… that is actually a rather pleasant title.”

Even so, observing the youth remain so unbothered, Amhyang-cheon-ong felt a chill of certainty.

*‘The boy is concealing a trump card.’*

Undoubtedly, it was the identical method that had forced the youngest of the Unae-ogwang into a desperate meditative state. It had to be some underhanded, treacherous mechanism typically favored by the dregs of the Huk-do.

“You certainly did not earn the reputation of being the brightest rising star of the Huk-do Murim by accident.”

“Who in the world are you calling a rising star of the Huk-do Murim!”

And in that split second, Jin So-un’s left hand traced a bizarre trajectory, gathering a potent palm strike. Amhyang-cheon-ong heightened his sensory awareness to its absolute limit, fully prepared to neutralize whatever underhanded trick the boy threw using his own Huk-sal-jan-eum-ji.

*Pop!*

Simultaneous with a sharp, low detonation echoing from Jin So-un’s left palm, Amhyang-cheon-ong released a barrage of ten distinct Huk-sal-jan-eum-ji strikes, but—

*‘There is nothing there?!’*

The piercing finger-winds struck Jin So-un without meeting any resistance, forcing the youth back three paces. In tandem, Amhyang-cheon-ong twisted his torso violently to evade whatever invisible projectile Jin So-un had deployed.

*‘What manner of trick is this?’*

Astonishingly, he suffered no physical trauma whatsoever. Instead.

“*Urk*.”

Accompanied by an overwhelming, suffocating reek of alcohol, an intense, blinding sting flared in his eyes.

“A poison?”

“Precisely. Behold the Ju-dok-jang (Liquor Poison Palm), the specialized secret art belonging to me!”

“……”

The young man had consolidated the entirety of the alcohol coursing through his veins and expelled it through his palm energy.

Sud
“……”

Amhyang-cheon-ong stood completely dumbfounded. To witness an elite from an Orthodox sect, and a graduate of the prestigious academy no less, employing a tactic that even the lowest Huk-do thugs or alleyway criminals would find beneath them. He genuinely questioned if this creature was truly a representative of the Orthodox path. Smelling the foul, fermenting odor clinging to his garments, Amhyang-cheon-ong ground his teeth in pure rage.

“It matters little if you are rumored to be the secret heir to the greatest masters of the Huk-do. Once I tear your flesh apart, I shall reduce your remains to salted fish.”

Following his declaration, he unleashed the Huk-sal-hyeol-hae, the ultimate and devastating manifestation of the Huk-sal-jan-eum-ji. In all likelihood, the entirety of this establishment would be reduced to splinters, but such collateral damage meant nothing to Amhyang-cheon-ong. Nearly two hundred piercing lines of finger-wind erupted from his hands, radiating outward with enough force to turn the structure to dust.

Baekwol-jecheon-samsik
Second Form
Extreme Strength (Geuk-gang).

Simultaneously, from Jin So-un’s blade, an endless torrent of concentrated sword qi erupted, weaving together to form an impenetrable barrier.

*Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-tang*

The condensed wall of sword qi intercepted every single oncoming finger-wind without letting a single one slip past, neutralizing the entire assault before surging directly toward Amhyang-cheon-ong.

“!”

Amhyang-cheon-ong invoked the Huk-sal-bo, desperately throwing himself clear of the devastating shockwave of sword qi.

“Your skills are remarkably formidable.”

“What nonsense are you uttering? This is merely the opening act.”

Encircling Amhyang-cheon-ong, dozens of shimmering sword forms had already materialized completely.

“Do you truly believe such transparent phantom blades can deceive my eyes!”

“We shall discover the truth of that shortly.”

Amhyang-cheon-ong instantly differentiated the genuine blades from the mere phantoms, mapping out the precise trajectory needed to close the distance to Jin So-un and deliver a fatal blow. The moment he disregarded what he deemed flawed phantom blades and unleashed a lethal finger-wind targeting Jin So-un’s vitals through the gaps—

*Slash—*

His index finger was severed cleanly from his hand.

“!!!”

It had undoubtedly been a phantom blade. He would have wagered his life that the projection was entirely illusory. Yet, the very image he had willfully ignored transformed into a solid edge and claimed his digit.

“This… how can this be…”

From the sharp agony radiating from his mangled hand to the warm crimson fluid pooling over his palm, an impossible reality was unfolding before him.

“I warned you, in the presence of Jin So-un, an emissary of the Murim Alliance, wickedness cannot endure.”

By the time he recovered from his shock and snapped his head upward.

“……!”

Amhyang-cheon-ong could no longer perceive the descending illusions as mere tricks of the eye.

Amhyang-cheon-ong, now missing seven of his fingers, served as the initial test subject to validate the efficacy of my newly forged sword style.

*‘The practicality is far greater than I anticipated.’*

Though it was a technique I devised with Yong So-ah in mind, the synergy between the two styles is actually remarkably potent. The deceptive stealth of the Biryu-muhyeong-geom integrated into the phantom projections of the Tae-eul Sword blurred the forms to an extreme degree, easily confounding a veteran of the Jianghu as seasoned as Amhyang-cheon-ong.

Two of the Unae-ogwang lay dead while another pair were entirely bound, and the final member, collapsing under the weight of the Mueum-cheongsu-in, suffered a severe internal energy rupture, coughing up blood before falling unconscious. At any rate, as a means to release some of my pent-up frustration, the live-combat evaluation concluded triumphantly.

“Dan-ju, why in the world must you constantly thrust yourself into disputes that do not concern us!”

As a thoroughly drenched Gwak Su-san bellowed out in frustrated protest, I offered a brief observation.

“Il-gak and I bore the entire burden of the combat, so why are you the one covered in sweat?”

“……”

Gwak Su-san could only retreat into a corner, looking deeply wounded for reasons unknown.

At that moment, an individual wearing a bamboo hat emerged from the cluster of frightened civilians, pressing his palms together in a respectful greeting.

“As expected of the great Murim Alliance, which champions the righteousness of the Jianghu, preserves harmony, reinforces order, and exemplifies true heroism, you have effortlessly vanquished these fiends.”

Yet, the timbre of this scoundrel’s voice struck a chord of deep familiarity within me.

“Because of your timely intervention, you have preserved a life that would have perished in misery, resentment, agony, and spite. Accept my profound appreciation once more.”

Glancing at the lower half of the face exposed beneath the brim of the hat, the sense of recognition intensified sharply.

“Hey.”

“…*Ahem*?”

The traveler in the bamboo hat blinked, glancing around nervously.

“Could it be that you are addressing me?”

“Correct. You.”

“……”

“What exactly did you purloin?”

The stranger froze completely, like a mechanism seizing up.

“…P-purloin? I assure you, I acquired this item legitimately at an antique merchant’s shop in Jinha for an entirely fair amount…”

Hearing him claim he paid a just price caused me to choke back the vitriol rising in my throat. A scoundrel who wouldn’t hesitate to pilfer the hard-earned wages of his own blood brothers who faced death alongside him was now claiming to have paid coin for a treasure?

“Sigh… though you are undeniably the protector of my life, I cannot simply tolerate such insulting accusations.”

Do Gwang-su, a low-tier thief who once belonged to the So-jeong-dae. That was the true identity of the man standing before me from my previous existence.

“And what do you intend to do if you choose not to tolerate it?”

“……”

Do Gwang-su’s mouth twitched with annoyance, his face a mask of bitter discontent.

“I am blind to the reason for your hostility, but out of basic human courtesy, I shall express my gratitude one final time for delivering me from death. Farewell. I pray your path ahead is filled with magnificent, grand, thrilling, and joyous fortunes.”

I extended a foot, deftly tripping the rogue as he attempted to slip past, simultaneously executing the very sleight-of-hand pickpocketing method he himself had instructed me in during my past life.

“Right, safe travels.”

The fellow scrambled toward the exit of the establishment as though fleeing for his life, but suddenly went rigid. Spinning around, his eyes bulged as he locked onto the small cloth container resting in my palm.

“Th-that, how did that…”

“I merely wished to inspect its contents.”

“Dae-hyeop, that truly is a possession I bought with my own silver. If you require verification, we can travel to the antique shop in Jinha this instant…”

“Ah, be silent! I am simply going to look!”

What manner of prize could possibly compel Amhyang-cheon-ong to mobilize the Unae-ogwang just to track it down? Unraveling the cloth wrapping, a piece of folded parchment-like leather emerged, and the moment I spread it flat.

“Dae-hyeop?”

A sudden chill struck me, as if a bucket of freezing water had been dumped over my head.

*‘Why on earth is this… in this place?’*

This object was a literal plague upon the Murim Alliance in my previous life. The authentic chart detailing the location of the Cheonma-chong (Heavenly Demon Tomb)—the very catalyst that had brought the Murim Alliance to the brink of absolute ruin during the great War of Righteousness and Demons.

“Ji-Jin Dae-hyeop, will you give it back? Please?”

That was the terrifying reality of the leather scroll.