Chapter 243: The World Does Not Change (5)

KRRRROOOOOM!

With a thunderous boom, a cloud of pitch-black dust billowed up.

FLASH! FLASH!

Lightning qi that ran through the cloud spat out a menacing glare.

Blue Tiger, who had been about to press in again, quickly pulled back. The movement was extremely springy, but his body had already reached its limit.

This can’t be.

Bewilderment surfaced in Blue Tiger’s eyes, which had been filled with feral Killing Intent.

Was the Clan Lord of the Six Great Clans always this strong?!

Mo Yonggun’s martial arts were so overwhelming it made your jaw drop.

Among the Twelve Zodiac Gods, White Rat—the eldest, and the one who had served Yangcheon the longest—was said to have martial prowess comparable to a clan lord of the Six Great Clans.

But White Rat wasn’t the only one among the Twelve Zodiac Gods who approached that level. Most notably, Ox, Dragon, Goat—and Tiger, himself.

This is different.

Blue Tiger lowered his stance.

I don’t know what the martial arts of the Six Great Clans’ clan lords are truly like. But Mo Yonggun’s—among them, too—is clearly exceptional.

BAAANG!

The dust cloud split in half, and a single line of blue lightning rushed at Water Dragon.

“Eek!”

KRRRROOOOOM!

The lightning-blade that skimmed past Water Dragon’s sleeve sliced a fairly large boulder cleanly in two.

In terms of evasion alone, Water Dragon surpassed even Blue Tiger and Mad Dog. And yet Water Dragon could do nothing but dodge—not even attempt a counter—because the power and speed of the sword strike were that tremendous.

What the hell is this?

BAAANG!

Blue Tiger lunged like a tiger that had found its prey and swung Tiger-Iron Claws.

What is that martial art, anyway?!

Mo Yonggun’s eyes flashed.

KRRRROOOOOM!

“Ghk!”

Blue Tiger’s body flew back, coughing up blood, as a blue arc of lightning shattered and sprayed away from him.

Blue Tiger tried to force himself up—then suddenly doubled over.

“Uweeehk!”

A massive gush of blood.

Tiger-Iron Claws, strong enough to rip through iron plate like it was nothing, couldn’t leave even a scratch on Mo Yonggun’s Inner Qi barrier. Instead, Blue Tiger was the one who took internal injuries from a lightly flicked palm force.

Terrifying!

He couldn’t believe martial arts like this existed.

“Truly...”

Mo Yonggun creased his brow.

“Truly annoying creatures. If nothing else, I’ll give you credit for being tenacious.”

Blue Tiger had stamina. Water Dragon had evasion. Mad Dog had an eye for openings.

If he hadn’t refined the ancient supreme art, Thunderclap Art, and the Merciless Heavenly Thunder Form, he would have been in serious trouble.

In a one-on-one duel, the clan lord’s discipline—Heaven-and-Earth Martial Resolution—wouldn’t fall far behind Thunderclap Art. But in a chaotic melee like this, lightning qi itself could impose psychological pressure on the enemy.

That was why Mo Yonggun could afford to keep his composure even while facing three Transcendent Peak masters.

They’re holding out better than I expected.

Mo Yonggun flicked his gaze up at the sky.

This should be enough, right?

The sunset, dyed red, was already sliding slowly beyond the far edge of darkness. At this point, the operational team should have escaped a significant portion of Ink Dragon Manor’s reach.

Yeon Hojeong.

Mo Yonggun’s brow tightened.

You knew I’d cover the rear no matter what... Hah.

He couldn’t tell what sort of people Yeon Hojeong had gathered to strike Ink Dragon Manor. Still, if he set his mind to it, gathering men wouldn’t have been that difficult.

You’ll make the main house and Ink Dragon Manor sworn enemies?

What a bold bastard.

He’d found himself impressed more than once before, but this attack in particular—he had never seen it coming. From the start, he hadn’t even considered the possibility that he was being deceived.

You’re trying to cut down the main house’s influence in Hunan Province, is that it?

Yeon Hojeong would know as well as anyone that tricks like this wouldn’t bring down the Mo Yong Clan.

It wasn’t because the Mo Yong Clan was stronger than Ink Dragon Manor. It was because—at least for now—Ink Dragon Manor couldn’t touch the Mo Yong Clan.

To touch the Mo Yong Clan was no different from declaring war on the Alliance of the Martial World. Unless the power balance was equal, Ink Dragon Manor could never afford such recklessness.

Still—having struck Ink Dragon Manor while wearing the Mo Yong name, Ink Dragon Manor would have no choice but to keep the Mo Yong Clan under close watch.

And if that happened, the Mo Yong Clan could no longer move as freely as it had. It would have to calculate, always, where Ink Dragon Manor might strike.

Planting that unease—the “just in case.”

For a great sect on the scale of the Mo Yong Clan, that alone imposed severe constraints and damage.

But still.

Mo Yonggun’s mouth curled.

It stung, sure—but this much won’t make me stagger.

He was going to clash with Ink Dragon Manor eventually, one way or another. All this meant was that the timing had been dragged forward a little.

But there was one thing that bothered him.

Does he think this is enough?

He couldn’t be certain.

Was this truly the end? Or was another attack coming—one he hadn’t even imagined?

“Son of a bitch.”

Mad Dog ground his teeth.

“You dare raid the headquarters? You’re desperate to die!”

Mo Yonggun replied with leisure.

“Who knows. Orthodox Path and Dark Path can hardly coexist—what’s so new about it?”

“You bastard!”

“Besides, whether Ink Dragon Manor disappears or the main house disappears, it doesn’t seem like something you care about.”

ZIIIIIIING!

A dreadful lightning qi poured out from Mo Yonggun’s sword body—twice as strong as anything he had used so far.

The three men’s faces hardened with shock.

Mo Yonggun said coldly.

“Because I’m going to bury you all here.”

He swung his sword with force.

Water Dragon shouted.

“Dodge!”

FLASH!

A blue sword-light drew a massive crescent as it flew at the three of them.

The density of power, the speed of the cleaving strike, the range of Inner Qi release—everything was on a different level than before. Even if they tried to evade in advance, the strike came too fast for dodging itself to be easy.

Damn it!

Despair clouded Blue Tiger’s face.

So that’s it!

This was a killing strike. Which meant: after unleashing a sword strike of this scale, there would inevitably be an opening.

The reason Mo Yonggun hadn’t used it until now was to shave down their reaction speed to the limit.

And in truth, Blue Tiger couldn’t even bring himself to try to dodge as the sword strike reached his nose. His body wasn’t in working order anymore.

Damn it.

Blue Tiger squeezed his eyes shut.

Forgive this one’s disloyalty—leaving before I can serve you longer...!

That was when it happened.

CRUNCH—PUUUUK!

Along with the sickening sound of flesh tearing, something thudded down in a wet scatter.

Blue Tiger opened his eyes.

Shock fell over his face—and Mad Dog’s.

“...He was a bastard who dodged like a rat, you know. Now that I’ve caught that one, the fight gets twice as easy.”

Mo Yonggun tapped the sword body and steadied his breathing. Just as Blue Tiger had guessed, this was a martial art with such severe Inner Qi consumption that it was a burden to use repeatedly.

But there was a payoff.

PSHUK! PSHUK!

Water Dragon’s lower body—his entire upper body gone—sprayed blood in hard jets before collapsing.

It hadn’t been a cleave.

It was a thrust.

From the start, Mo Yonggun’s target had been Water Dragon—the one most capable of evasive movement.

“...!!”

Blue Tiger and Mad Dog felt a chill run down their spines.

“Don’t run. No—you mustn’t run. Aren’t I your enemy?”

BZZZT—BZZZT—BZZZT.

Threatening lightning qi spread from Mo Yonggun’s body.

After releasing that explosive strike, he couldn’t perfectly control his Inner Qi for a moment. But that only frightened Blue Tiger and Mad Dog more.

“Now, shall we start the second round?”

Blue Tiger bared his teeth.

“Mad Dog.”

“...What.”

“I’ll stall him no matter what. Go back to the Manor and request reinforcements.”

“Don’t talk bullshit.”

“Mad Dog!”

“Do you think running is even possible? You see that madman’s Inner Qi? The moment you turn your back, you die.”

Mad Dog growled.

“Whether it turns to sludge or rice, we settle it here.”

Blue Tiger nodded with a rigid face.

“Fine. We end it here.”

That was when—

PUUUUNG!

Far to the west, by the riverbank, an explosion boomed, followed by a horrific scream. The Mo Yong Clan’s forces and the troops under the Twelve Zodiac Gods were locked in a fight to the death.

Of course, the battle had been ongoing already. But this blast was unusually large.

Mad Dog spat a curse.

“You bastard! You even prepared explosives?! Shameless piece of shit! Fine—if I die today, I’m still taking one of your arms—”

Mid-sentence, Mad Dog’s brow furrowed.

Mo Yonggun’s face was not normal. His eyes, fixed on the west, were stained with shock.

“...Muyeon?”

The Mo Yong Clan forces laid across the road through river and mountains didn’t have explosives.

Explosives were hard to obtain in the first place. And those men were only sacrificial pawns to secure a retreat route—there was no need for them to be carrying explosives.

But Muyeon was different. Muyeon always carried small explosives meant for dying in a blast.

Is it really Muyeon? No—don’t tell me—!

Muyeon was a master of concealment. If Muyeon truly hid presence, even Mo Yonggun couldn’t detect it.

Had someone gotten Muyeon? Why? How?

A man with endless work to do alongside him—did Muyeon really die here?

ZIIIIIIING!

Heavenly thunder settled onto the merciless sword body.

“No.”

Mo Yonggun’s face twisted.

“The games are over, trash.”

FLASH!

A lightning sword strike swept straight through Blue Tiger and Mad Dog.

Mo Yonggun was consumed by rage—but unfortunately, his misery did not end there.

*****

DUDUDUDUDU.

Hoofbeats shook mountains and rivers.

Nearly fifty warhorses ran—each one without exception displaying imposing presence. Their bodies were thick with muscle, and with a single kick off the ground, they could easily clear a distance of three jang. Even their gallop had spring to it.

A good breed alone couldn’t make warhorses like that. You needed extremely systematic management: medicinal feed suited to the horse’s build, abundant fodder, and disciplined running at proper intervals.

HIIIIIHIIIIIHIIIING!

At the front, a warhorse let out a cry like a dragon’s roar.

The riderless warhorse looked especially large and sturdy. Its neck and forelegs were covered in scars from blades and spears—proof it was a seasoned mount with battlefield experience.

“Faster!”

Beside the riderless mount—

A woman with a red bow strapped ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ to her back shouted in a booming voice.

“We’ve got half a day left! Keep your heads clear! We might go straight into battle!”

At her shout, the roughly fifty warriors behind her roared back.

“Yes, ma’am!”

A reply so loud it nearly swallowed even the hoofbeats.

Their voices carried Inner Qi. Every one of them was a martial artist who had mastered profound arts.

But they weren’t ordinary martial artists.

Shoulders, chests, upper arms, shins—each of them wore light armor. The sight of them was already that of a complete army. Their eyes, each showing fighting spirit, held both the composure and the resolve of battle-hardened veterans, and the presence none of them allowed to waver transformed into a vast martial force that shook the air itself.

An Independent Field Force of the Alliance of the Martial World, sweeping south at terrifying speed.

The finest practical combat unit of the Orthodox Path in this era—

The Evil-Smiting Corps, in full gallop.