Chapter 152: Infamy and Chivalric Fame (2)

“Hoo.”

Yeon Hojeong relaxed his stance. Mookbi lowered her bow as well.

“Let’s stop here for today.”

THUD.

The moment he set down Mad Dragon (Axe), he dropped straight to the ground. It didn’t look like him—Yeon Hojeong, whose stamina alone was monstrous.

Mookbi asked, worried.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

He didn’t look fine at all.

Yeon Hojeong’s face was still pale. His internal injuries hadn’t fully healed yet.

“You should rest the next few days.”

Yeon Hojeong gave a bitter smile.

“I’ll see how it goes.”

Mookbi felt a tight ache in her chest.

The Crimson Demon Society’s ambush had dealt the Evil-Smiting Corps a heavy blow. Up to now, they’d launched preemptive strikes—but they’d never been hit like that.

And because of that strike, more than ten men ended up severely injured. That there were no fatalities was a blessing beyond measure.

Back then, Yeon Hojeong had changed in an instant.

After collecting the severely injured as calmly as he could and scrambling physicians into place, Yeon Hojeong immediately took Mookbi and part of the force and went after the Crimson Demon Society.

Remembering it, Mookbi swallowed without meaning to.

So he can become that terrifying.

Yeon Hojeong had turned into a devil and rampaged.

It was madness you could hardly put into words. Assassins who prided themselves on embracing death for their target had panicked and fled—how could it not be?

He hadn’t shown it on the surface, but Yeon Hojeong cherished the Evil-Smiting Corps’ soldiers to an almost sickening degree. The comparison felt wrong, but it was close to how someone treated his own children.

And their method must’ve made him even angrier.

Casualties in a unit were fate. No matter what tricks the enemy used, the idiot was the one who got hit.

Even so, this wasn’t it. In Mookbi’s eyes, the Evil-Smiting Corps had nearly died like dogs—meaningless deaths.

He’d told them to stay sharper, but Yeon Hojeong had likely been thinking the same thing she was.

“Hm?”

Staring at Yeon Hojeong with a troubled face, Mookbi suddenly noticed blood running down his hand.

“Yeon Hojeong. Your hand’s bleeding...”

“Hm?”

Yeon Hojeong glanced down at his right hand and smacked his lips.

“I knew it stung a little.”

“What?”

“It’s the fate of someone who handles heavy weapons. Unless your body reaches the absolute extreme, if you slip even a little, your hand can get crushed.”

He kneaded his right hand.

“It’s not the bone or the joints. It just slid and tore the skin. A few days off and it’ll heal.”

Mookbi let out a long breath and pulled a clean cloth from her chest. A medical cloth she always carried, because you never knew who would get hurt, when.

“Give me your hand.”

“I’m fine.”

“Stop being stubborn and give it to me.”

“Ah, I said I’m fine. You can leave it.”

“Give it to me before I put a hole between your eyebrows.”

“Here.”

Yeon Hojeong held out his hand. With practiced motions, Mookbi wrapped the cloth around it.

“Hey.”

“What.”

“But are your fingers okay? When I tried pulling the string on Red Lotus Bow, that was no joke.”

Mookbi answered in a flat voice, the words like a thrown dagger.

“I’m fine. I’m not an idiot who can’t even check my own condition, unlike someone.”

Yeon Hojeong stared at her for a moment—then slammed his forehead into hers.

CRACK!

“Ah!”

Mookbi flopped backward.

Sparks burst in front of her eyes. For a split second, she nearly lost consciousness.

“W-What are you doing?!”

“Hmph. You were annoying.”

“You—seriously...!”

Mookbi pounded her chest as if she’d had enough of him. If someone worries about you, you should at least accept it like a normal person. He was impossible.

“Treat the rest yourself!”

“I was going to anyway.”

“Ugh! He won’t learn until he gets hit hard someday.”

Fuming, Mookbi stormed off.

Watching her back, Yeon Hojeong grinned.

But once she disappeared, his face twisted.

“Goddamn—what’s with that stone-headed bastard. Is his forehead wrapped in iron or what? What the hell is he?”

If he ever ended up fighting that bastard later, he should never—ever—try headbutting.

Still, after the skull-rattling pain, the stray thoughts seemed to clear out a little. Yeon Hojeong rubbed his forehead and sighed.

“My internal injury still won’t heal.”

This internal injury was from when the Crimson Demon Society’s main camp exploded.

He’d sensed it and tried to evade instantly, but Okcheong had gone in too deep.

So he’d burned extreme internal energy and unfolded Blood Wing Sweeps the Heavens.

So many times he couldn’t even remember the count.

He’d saved everyone in the end, but the internal injury he took was severe.

Well. Compared to not losing anyone, it’s basically free.

Sitting cross-legged, Yeon Hojeong operated the Jade Wave True Formula.

WOOOOOM.

A blue current of true qi—so clean it almost felt refreshing just to look at—circulated through his entire body.

At some point, even the Jade Wave True Formula had reached the verge of the tenth level. Once he stepped into the tenth, the internal method itself had nowhere higher to climb.

From there began an endlessly deep stretch of time—no longer a fight to “raise attainment,” but a fight over how you cultivated and refined Jade Wave True Qi itself.

And in the moment you finished carving your own path to completion—

That was when people said your martial arts had reached the twelvefold pinnacle, the extreme of completion.

The problem was now.

“Hoo.”

Yeon Hojeong frowned hard.

“Yeah. Now I get it.”

Why internal injury treatment was slower than it had been in the days when he was the Dark Emperor.

Right after finishing his fight with Ming Cheon, he’d collapsed. And it had taken far more time than expected to heal.

This time was the same. The internal injury from the explosion was severe—but normally, by now, he should’ve recovered past a certain threshold.

And only now did Yeon Hojeong understand why he healed slower than he had back then.

“It was internal energy.”

It wasn’t because of the Three Divine Qi. And it wasn’t because the Azure Dragon Qi was missing either.

It was the Jade Wave True Formula.

More precisely—because the amount of internal energy that would serve as the base for the Four Spirit Arts was far smaller than it had been before.

From the start, Yeon Hojeong wasn’t someone who valued quantity.

And that had been correct.

Internal energy was quality over quantity. High-quality internal energy produced ten times the efficiency with one coin of strength compared to other internal energy.

That was common sense. That was truth. Orthodox arts and unorthodox arts alike couldn’t escape that fundamental principle.

But the Four Spirit Arts demanded more than that.

The Four Spirit Qi itself produces power on a higher level than the true qi of any internal method. That’s why not only the quality of the foundation matters—quantity matters too.

The Four Spirit Qi didn’t reside in the dantian. It resided in the organs it governed. In other words, the deeper the Four Spirit Qi became, the more active the corresponding organ grew compared to before.

As the organs activated, the body itself underwent constant change. His master had said that, throughout the generations, the bodies of Four Spirit martial masters were as tough as diamond.

I was like that too.

In the days when he was the Dark Emperor, his body had been a lethal weapon. Even without loading internal energy, he could crumple a steel plate with ease.

So that’s why Master passed Vast Heaven Qi on to me.

Vast Heaven Qi was never a martial art you could speak of as ruling the world. It was worthy of being called first-rate—but not to the degree of being called a divine art.

Yet its greatest advantage was the quantity and speed of qi accumulation.

I built up more internal energy than anyone with Vast Heaven Qi, so the Four Spirit Qi stayed stable. Even if I took internal injuries, there was no reason to shrink back.

Meaning—if he wanted to solve the problem of slower recovery, he needed to amplify the foundational amount of internal energy.

Yeon Hojeong’s gaze deepened.

Should I take the Lesser Heaven Qi Pellet?

He still hadn’t eaten the Lesser Heaven Qi Pellet Je Gal Ahyeon had given him.

The martial world was dangerous. You never knew what would happen. Since it wasn’t an immediate crisis, he’d been saving it for later.

After thinking for a long while, Yeon Hojeong shook his head.

No. I need to give that to Jipyeong later.

Rather than consuming an elixir just to increase internal energy volume, raise the attainment of the internal method and elevate overall capability.

It was a longer road, but for the future, it was better. He could be certain of that.

If I’m going to practice the Four Spirit Arts, I should advance to a higher realm than I did in the past. I won’t be able to reach for the Yellow Dragon with the same simple approach as before.

Eating one Lesser Heaven Qi Pellet wouldn’t ruin his growth. It might even improve it.

But.

Not now.

He trusted that the path he’d walked until now—and the principles he’d grasped—would not betray him.

First, I perfect the Jade Wave True Formula at the tenth level. After that, I gradually amplify internal energy, reach the twelvefold extreme...

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes flashed.

I’ll have to master the Five Great Divine Arts.

If he learned all the Yeon Clan’s Five Great Divine Arts, the ultimate secret divine art would reveal itself. When that happened, he would possess both the quantity and quality of internal energy.

Yeon Hojeong built the plan step by step. He’d been so busy running that it had been hard to make time for himself—so in a way, this wasn’t bad.

He’d been lost in thought alone for quite a while when—

“Big brother?”

“Huh?”

Yeon Hojeong turned his head. Paeng Manho was there, blinking with an innocent face.

“Huh? When did you get here?”

“I even came in stomping on purpose, but you didn’t notice.”

“Oh, yeah? What is it?”

“Je Gal wants you.”

“Yeah. Got it.”

Yeon Hojeong stood, then frowned as something struck him.

“Hey.”

“What is it?”

“Can you stop calling me ‘big brother’?”

“Why? You don’t like hearing it?”

“It’s not that, but—we’re the same age. Why do you keep calling me that?”

“If someone’s worth respecting, you call him big brother. Did you know Guan Yu was older than Liu Bei?”

Yeon Hojeong was about to snap back—then just sighed and waved a hand.

“Do whatever you want.”

“Yes.”

“But what about me is respectable?”

“You use a heavier weapon than I do.”

“...That’s it?”

“What do you mean, that’s it? That’s plenty respectable. I don’t lose to anyone in strength wherever I go, but in front of you, big brother, I just—”

“Don’t call me big brother.”

“Why?”

“If I said don’t, then don’t, you little shit.”

As Yeon Hojeong walked, he felt something surge up for no reason.

“Fuck—of all things to respect, that’s what you respect?!”

“You’re here? Hm? What’s with your face?”

“What about my face.”

“You look kind of sour. And why is your forehead so red? Did you hit it on a rock or something?”

“I hit it on something harder than a rock.”

Yeon Hojeong flopped down onto the floor and asked—

“So what did you call me for, Strategist?”

Je Gal Ahyeon smirked.

“Stop messing with me.”

“I’m not. You are the strategist.”

“Whatever. Look at this.”

The moment Yeon Hojeong read the letter she handed over, his face turned serious.

“Return to the Alliance...?”

“They’re saying they’re summoning us to praise our achievements and give us some rest. At least, that’s the pretext.”

“Pretext... so what else is there?”

Je Gal Ahyeon pulled out another letter from her clothes.

“That one’s from the Alliance. This one is from Hu Gae separately.”

Yeon Hojeong also read the letter Ga Deoksang had sent.

His eyes glinted.

“Oh.”

“Suspicious, right?”

A quiet tension rose on Je Gal ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) Ahyeon’s face.

“The Tang Clan Lord is not someone who agonizes. If it’s no, it’s no, and if it’s yes, it’s yes. That’s how Father saw him.”

“And despite that, he’s stepping forward to lead the push to summon the Evil-Smiting Corps back?”

“You smell it, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I smell it.”

Yeon Hojeong pictured Tang Gwan.

That haughty wolf’s face—both eyes filled with a perilous, ominous flame.

“So he ended up joining hands with Mo Yonggun.”

“...”

“I expected it, but it’s faster than I thought.”

Je Gal Ahyeon asked, worried.

“What are you going to do?”

“What do you think? A formal order came down from the Alliance.”

“If it feels wrong, we could stall for time a little—”

“No.”

Yeon Hojeong cut her off.

“The Evil-Smiting Corps is an Independent Field Force. That means we have freedom, but orders from the top are something we follow—thoroughly. At the very least, we need to show that we do. That’s responsibility.”

“Hoo... it’s hard.”

“What about the others?”

“They can move without major problems. Still, if we don’t want complications, they should stabilize for a few more days.”

“Good.”

Yeon Hojeong felt a quiet regret.

The next target might have Jinyang.

Jinyang.

One of the Five Divine Generals of the Black Emperor’s Citadel—a man who scattered fear through the orthodox martial world with martial arts as flexible as his cheerful nature.

After sinking into thought, Yeon Hojeong shook his head.

This might actually be better.

He and the Evil-Smiting Corps had been running too hard, too fast.

They needed to refit the unit while they had the chance. It was frustrating, but now wasn’t the time to be greedy.

“We return to the Alliance in three days. I’ll tell the others myself.”