Chapter 85
Chapter 85
The second the Crouching Dragon Blade crested the rampart of the stronghold, Yanghwi had assessed the entire situation down to the finest detail.
‘Their force numbers several dozen at the very least. The ringleader has reached the first-rate level.’
His own party possessed three first-rate combatants and one second-rate practitioner. Moreover, three out of the four favored non-standard armaments, effectively doubling their real martial potency on the battlefield. Still, being swarmed by an organized formation would prove tedious, making it essential to dispatch the head of the serpent without delay.
Vwoooom!
An esoteric form born of the Hundred and Eight Heaven-Splitting Swords.
Bee Wing Resonating Vibration.
A technique funneling internal destructive power through the intricate mechanics of sonic vibrations clashed squarely against the Crouching Dragon Blade’s massive eight-foot blade. During that fleeting pulse of contact, the brigand leader’s visage twisted in sheer horror.
‘Your intentions are transparent.’
A single pass was enough to decipher the man’s mind. The outlaw knew he stood no chance in single combat. True to his cowardly nature, his thoughts were already drifting toward drowning his foe under sheer weight of numbers.
“You’re already too late, scum.”
Channeling his inner energy to its sharpest crescendo, Yanghwi drove it through the seam where their steel met.
“Cough!”
The elegance of internal trauma techniques rested in how a mere graze could unleash ruinous devastation deep inside the body. It was not meant to tear flesh or spill blood with external lacerations, but to propel a devastating impact directly into the internal organs.
Momentum failed the outlaw chieftain, and he plunged earthward in a heavy heap. Had Yanghwi retained the sovereign boundary of his prior life, he would have closed the distance instantly with void-stepping and battered him to pieces, yet such mastery remained beyond his present reach.
“D-Damn it! Stand before him! Cut that bastard down!”
Saturated in his own blood, the Crouching Dragon Blade shoved his underlings into harm’s way, frantically trying to melt into the ranks. Yanghwi felt no urge to chase him down. Whether the leader perished first or last mattered little, given that every soul residing within these palisades was marked for slaughter.
Vwoooom!
One strike claimed one life.
In the span of a breath, several outlaws dropped beneath his edge. The hail of incoming weapons was deflected with a single fluid arc.
Cl-cl-cl-clang!
Vwoooom!
“Aaargh!”
“Guh!”
“Cough!”
For Yanghwi, every parry functioned as a lethal strike. The oscillating inner qi carried through the Bee Wing Resonating Vibration threw the bandits’ insides into violent turmoil.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Burying precise, fatal thrusts into the fallen men, he glanced toward the wooden perimeter wall and cleared it in a single leap.
‘Demolishing it can wait until later.’
The barricade had been erected to keep outsiders at bay, but he was already within. From here on, those high walls served only as a cage to keep the outlaws from fleeing.
“Chudal.”
“Y-Yes, Boss.”
Chudal’s skin had lost all color at the sight of the pooling blood and butchered remnants. Yanghwi offered in an even, measured tone, “Keep your head. If a hair on you gets grazed, you’ll answer to me.”
“Understood.”
His response was rigid. Plainly, mere words could not banish that degree of raw panic.
“You lead the way from here. I’ll cover your flank.”
Since the eradication of this den was inevitable, they might as well leverage the ordeal to harden the youth.
“Y-Yes, Boss.”
Roughly six outlaws were already barreling toward them with bare steel raised high. Taking a sharp breath, Chudal thrust his palms forward. The Shadow Ghost Gate of the Divine Thief lineage had been passed down through generations, its foundational arts grounded entirely upon ten strands of thread.
Concealed Shadow Thread Binding, Circling Current Leaf Binding.
From each of Chudal’s palms, a single strand of heavenly silkworm silk lashed out. Tied to the extremities of these nearly invisible filaments were an iron grapple and a flying dagger. The iron claw anchored firmly into an adjacent boulder, whereas the dagger darted low, aiming for the legs of the sprinting thugs.
“Aaargh!”
“What kind of trick is this?!”
“It’s wire! Clear it! Gut the whelp!”
Cries of agony rose only to be swallowed by bloodthirsty roaring. Trembling uncontrollably, Chudal continued snapping his wrists. Given his unrefined stage of cultivation, he could govern merely two lines among the ten, falling short of checking the entire group.
“Die!”
A pair of outlaws closed in, swinging their heavy sabers down together. Cold metal cleaved the air toward his skull. Within that sliver of time, Chudal glanced back at Yanghwi, and the expression worn by his sworn brother revealed everything.
‘If I fail to deflect this with my own hands, I’m a dead man!’
Gripping the heavenly silkworm silk with both hands, he pushed the line upward to parry. Harvested from the chrysalises of thousand-year-old spirit moths, heavenly silkworm silk was a peerless treasure. The common weapons of backwoods ruffians stood no chance of cutting through it, and Chudal followed through with a quick kick to drive one assailant backward. But another blade came hurtling in from his blind spot.
‘It’s over…!’
Just as Chudal squeezed his eyelids shut…
Squelch!
“Guh, gurgle…!”
Chudal dared to look only when the wet sound of escaping breath reached his ears. A bandit was toppling over, Yanghwi’s sword planted clean through his throat.
“Not bad. For a maiden attempt, you held your ground.”
“Huff, huff. Boss…”
“Where is your finishing blow?”
Among the six outlaws who had charged them, the sole corpse belonged to the one Yanghwi had struck down. The other five writhed across the dirt, battered yet breathing.
“F-Finishing blow…”
“Bandits are irredeemable filth. They are vermin you can stamp out without a shred of guilt. Only through their deaths can they offer any usefulness to this realm.”
“D-Death…”
Chudal’s chest heaved as his breath grew ragged.
— My son. Never choose the life I led.
“B-Boss. Could we not reform them and make them work? Just as we did with the members of the Reformation Pavilion brought into the manor…”
“Brawlers of the dark path can be disciplined and redirected. The unorthodox path, however, is a completely different creature.”
Yanghwi lowered his voice, continuing steadily. “Many speak of the orthodox path and the white path as though they are identical, yet the unorthodox path and the dark path are split by a fundamental gulf. Outlaws belong entirely to the unorthodox path.”
“B-But…”
Yanghwi observed the young man in silence.
‘Hesitation like that will cost you your breath one day, Chudal.’
Even so…
— Boss! Even if my stomach turns at taking lives, that doesn’t mean I won’t put mine on the line to shield yours!
A fleeting memory of his earlier life surfaced in his mind. It was that familiar voice, devoid of juvenile hesitation, fortified instead by cunning, unshakable devotion.
Well, this would suffice for the day.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Five precise swings. Five heads dropped onto the dust.
“Chudal.”
“Yes… Boss…”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“What…?”
“If spilling blood sickens you, leave it be.”
Yanghwi snapped his wrist downward, flinging the crimson drops off the steel. Looking upon the younger sworn brother tied to his spirit from a bygone era, he added, “I will do the slaying for you.”
He meant it. That very choice explained why his current journey diverged so completely from his past existence. Still, putting it into plain words felt slightly awkward.
“To be frank, your primary duty under my command is handling the intelligence trade. There is no genuine need for your hands to be coated in blood.”
The master of an information ring belonged in the rear, directing the flow. Holding the vanguard and cutting through adversaries was a chore Yanghwi could shoulder effortlessly by himself.
“Move out. Plenty of them are still breathing.”
Without lingering for an answer, Yanghwi stepped forward. Chudal stared dumbly at his retreating back. While this elder sworn brother usually took endless delight in teasing and riding him, today his silhouette appeared taller than a mountain.
“Yes, Boss!”
After advancing a short way, Yanghwi picked up the bitter aroma of venom drifting on the breeze.
“Chudal, circulate your internal energy. It appears Brother Tang and Sister Tang have completely lost their tempers.”
Bodies were strewn across the path. Every last brigand remained clinging to life, writhing and trembling in horrific agony.
‘The disciples of the Tang Clan are truly terrifying down to the last person.’
The Tang Clan showed zero restraint when confronted with the unorthodox path. Bound by their uncompromising zeal for righteous conduct, they turned mercilessly savage against anything associated with villainy. The rumors depicting the Tang Clan as cruel and without pity were certainly well-earned.
‘Which makes their presence on our flank a tremendous blessing.’
The present sight gave ample proof. Stricken outlaws carpeted the dirt in every direction. Without the Tang siblings on hand, clearing out an outpost of several dozen so quickly would have been nearly impossible.
‘Against superior numbers, nothing levels the field like venom.’
Regardless, where had that slippery Crouching Dragon Blade crawled away to?
“Hey, Burrowing Dragon! Where are you skulking?!”
Yelling loudly without the slightest caution, Yanghwi swung his blade through the wooden structures of the camp. After suffering heavy internal damage, the outlaw chieftain could not possibly summon the qi necessary for lightfoot techniques. He was guaranteed to be nearby.
‘There you are.’
His keen qi sense caught the faint trace of inner force wavering from the deepest recess of the stockade. Gauging the density and the ragged rhythm of the energy, it unmistakably belonged to the battered Crouching Dragon Blade.
“Come out, earthworm. You pathetic maggot who couldn’t hope to become a dragon in a hundred lifetimes. Did you honestly think you could stay hidden from me?”
With a solitary stroke, he smashed an entire timber lodge to pieces. Amid the cloud of splintered wood, the face of the Crouching Dragon Blade appeared.
“You insolent brat! Do you have any idea what kind of disaster you are inviting?!”
The frantic shriek hardly warranted a response, yet the Tang siblings had matters well in hand outside. Yanghwi decided he could entertain the wretch for a brief spell.
“Disaster? What disaster might that be?”
“I, the Crouching Dragon Blade, hold standing within the Seventy-Two Stockades of the Greenwood! The moment the Greenwood champions take the field, a fledgling like you will be dragged straight to the underworld!”
The sheer foolishness of the threat coaxed a smirk onto Yanghwi’s face.
“Greenwood champions, indeed. More like the scavenging curs of the greenwood (蟲犬).”
To be clear, he did not mean faithful dogs (忠犬). He meant vermin curs (蟲犬).
“Let us drop the pretense. You must have mistaken me for an ignorant beginner simply because of my age.”
Thrust!
“Aaaargh!”
Driving the steel point directly into the Crouching Dragon Blade’s dantian, Yanghwi remarked, “As if the Greenwood would ever raise a finger to avenge an insect of your caliber.”
“Aaaaargh! I am… I am one of the Greenwood! The Mountain Lord… the Mountain Lord will send the Ten Heroes! You little basteeeerd!”
For context, the Mountain Lord stood as the paramount sovereign over the Seventy-Two Stockades of the Greenwood, while the Ten Greenwood Heroes were the premier martial masters who carried out his personal decrees.
“Is that so? Then let us put your words to the test. Before I walk away, I’ll carve my martial alias deep into these walls. If they bother to hunt me down, we’ll grant that you were right.”
Yanghwi landed a heavy boot against the side of the leader’s skull.
“Who are you trying to deceive? I know precisely how the Greenwood operates, you wretch.”
Outsiders often referred to the Greenwood as a single, cohesive power, but it was nothing of the kind. It was hardly a unified faction. Put simply, they would never pursue retribution. Not unless someone dared to strike at the twelve supreme stockades situated at the apex.
“Besides, even if they do ride out, you’ll already be rotting, so you won’t be around to enjoy it.”
“S-Spare me. Please. I beg you…!”
Singing a different tune now?
“Please… have mercy…! More than half the men in this camp have kin to provide for! If I am slain, no one will be left to care for them!”
“Is that your story?”
What an utterly stale plea. Clichés regarding beloved children and a doting spouse waiting back home.
“Do you know something?”
“Wh-What…”
“People eager to trample others just to keep their own skins whole are hardly uncommon.”
Slash!
“Aaagh!”
The Crouching Dragon Blade screamed, clutching the bleeding stump where his arm had been. Unfazed, Yanghwi pressed on, “Your life is already forfeit, insect. If you wish to enter the netherworld without further agony, surrender something worth hearing. Tell me the location of your treasury, for a start.”
“The silver… sob… it lies in the undercroft right below us! Every treasure of value is down here, hic, and the ordinary plunder sits in the adjacent warehouse, waaah…”
The Crouching Dragon Blade sobbed openly, thick tears wetting his grime-streaked face. His features were soaked in pure dread and remorse. Both were expressions fitting the closing moments of a highwayman chieftain.
“What else? Is that the extent of it?”
“Th-There is… there is a method to reach the Greenwood…”
“Oh? You were genuinely tied to the Greenwood?”
A desperate spark of expectation lit within the bandit’s gaze.
“I built this stronghold under the mandate of one of the Ten Heroes! If I perish, that Hero will surely take vengeance! So please… I beg of you…”
Watching such unorthodox scum grasp at hope was thoroughly revolting. Yanghwi severed his remaining arm with an effortless sweep.
“Aaaaargh!”
“Where is this communication method kept?”
The handless shoulder jerked toward a nearby writing desk. Sifting through the loose parchment scattered across the surface, Yanghwi drew out a solitary document.
[Great Greenwood Seal (大綠林印)]
Inscribed upon the sheet was the covert passphrase utilized to establish contact with the Greenwood.
“Well now, would you look at that? It was genuine after all.”
“So please, have mer—”
Slash!
The Crouching Dragon Blade’s head bounced against the earthen ground. Folding the parchment, Yanghwi allowed a wide grin to surface.
Hm.
This had turned out to be quite a lucrative haul.
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