Chapter 150

Chapter 150

Flowing Wind Spear Gojeong.

An Absolute-Level Master acknowledged by the Sword Exalted Youngho.

A powerhouse comparable to the Plum Blossom Sword Queen of the Mount Hua Sect stood before Youngho, unable to hide his flustered expression.

Just as Gojeong was about to say something—

“Junior Brother! Juniooor Brotheeer!”

Even though his Martial Robes were dyed in blood, the Taiji Embroidery upon them asserted its presence with clarity.

The soldiers of the Murim Alliance stared blankly at the suddenly arrived figures and saw the disciple of the Wudang Sect wailing in anguish.

“Senior Brother! Please compose yourself!”

“Let go of me! My Junior Brother! My Junior Brother is still in there!”

“Myeongin!”

A loud voice roused Myeongin, who had been unable to escape the grief of losing his Junior Brother.

Myeongin looked at Hyeonbi with an expression of disbelief. Yet the moment he saw Hyeonbi’s face clearly, he lowered his head deeply.

He knew Hyeonbi’s usual cheerful personality well. But even he had never once seen such sorrow on Hyeonbi’s face until now.

Hyeonbi squeezed his eyes shut as if enduring a pain that tore at his very entrails and said,

“……Take care of the Junior Brothers.”

“But…!”

“You’re chattering noisily. Do you even know how many have died here?”

Myeongin noticed that the voice had come from Youngho’s direction, and his face twisted fiercely.

“What… did you just say?”

Jongpal strode forward and stood in front of Youngho before speaking.

“You’re not the only ones who suffered losses. So shut up. We already have a mountain of things to handle.”

“You insignificant Unorthodox wretch dare insult the death of my Junior Brother!”

Myeongin released a lethal Martial Presence as though he might draw his sword against Jongpal at any moment.

Yet Jongpal emitted an even darker and heavier aura than Myeongin’s.

It was negativity so deep it defied prediction—despair, sorrow, fury—an incomprehensible storm of emotions.

“Why do you think you were even able to come out of that space alive? No—why do you think your head is still attached to your neck after that battle?”

“Of course, it was by the strength of the Elders and my Junior Brothers—!”

“Shut the hell up. You bastards who collapsed after getting attacked by Jiangshi can’t even be called Martial Artists, yet your tongues wag endlessly.”

With eyes as cold as Youngho’s might be, Jongpal glared at Myeongin.

“Your pitiful Sword Formation was protected by the Young Master’s direct escort, and after that chaotic melee, our Asura Squad covered you bit by bit.”

Unable to contain his boiling fury, Myeongin spat back viciously,

“If you hadn’t interfered with our judgment—!”

“You think you’d be standing here? You think you’d still be breathing that air through that neck of yours?”

Cold anger began to consume the mind. Youngho said nothing at Jongpal’s heartfelt rage.

He merely observed how the situation unfolded. While listening, Youngho explained the current circumstances to Gojeong.

Soon, thousands of Jiangshi would burst out from the sealed space created by the Sacred Relic of the Wudang Sect, and preparations had to be made.

Beside him, Hyeon-gang added that an enormous number of physicians would be required.

After hearing everything, Gojeong’s expression turned grave. He released several Messenger Pigeons before turning toward Youngho.

“I have requested reinforcements. People should arrive shortly. By the way… are you certain you need not stop them?”

“It’s fine. It should end within a Quarter-Hour. And above all, my subordinates may fight with blades, but they do not waste themselves in petty arguments.”

Something must have happened. Perhaps one of the squad members would have to live with a permanent disability—or worse…

Youngho lightly bit his lip. Only after the metallic taste of blood spread across his tongue was he able to suppress the rising agitation.

“You son of a bitch!”

At that moment, Jongpal’s bloodshot eyes widened as he tried to draw his sword, but Kang Hosan immediately grabbed his wrist.

“Calm down!”

As though amused by the sight, Myeongin lifted one corner of his lips.

“That bastard must have been important to you. My Junior Brothers are important to me as well. You who interfered with Wudang have no right to speak.”

Even the cold of the Northern Sea would not be this frigid. Myeongin’s words were that chilling.

Jongpal could not control his trembling hands. In a quivering voice, he spoke,

“You shouldn’t be the ones saying that…! We didn’t say it either…! If someone like you spews such bullshit—!”

His breathing grew ragged, and he could not hide his shaking shoulders.

“If someone like you dares to belittle Sancheon’s death, the fight of our Asura Squad—!”

Jongpal could not finish his words. He forcibly swallowed the blood rising from his throat, but his body could no longer endure.

He tried to ignore whatever happened to his body. This much, at least, he wanted to say. No—he had to say it.

“……!”

At that moment, a terrifying aura surged from behind Jongpal. It felt as though a meteor the size of Mount Tai had fallen from the heavens.

Youngho slowly patted Jongpal’s shoulder. It was not a grand gesture. There was not even a word of comfort.

Yet even that brief touch conveyed Youngho’s emotions clearly, and Jongpal burst into tears.

Still emanating a heavy aura, Youngho stepped forward and stood before Myeongin.

After locking eyes with him in an emotionless gaze for a moment, Youngho finally spoke.

“There is nothing more foolish than debating right and wrong on the battlefield.”

Then Myeongin spoke firmly, his face stiff as stone.

“There is no need for an apology from the Sword Exalted. You did no wrong. The ones from whom I seek an apology are your subordinates.”

Youngho barely restrained the laughter that almost escaped him and continued calmly.

“An apology, you say?”

“That is correct.”

“Is there something for which we must apologize?”

“What do you mean by that!?”

“To embellish one’s own fault and shift the blame onto the other party.”

A faint, metallic smile curved Youngho’s lips.

“An old trick. Not only hypocrites use it—ordinary Common People resort to it from time to time as well.”

Myeongin found himself unable to speak. Was it because Youngho’s words were correct? To some extent, yes.

But more than that, he was certain that if he misspoke now, he would die.

Death stood before his eyes. In such a situation, how many under heaven could still open their mouths?

Youngho met Myeongin’s gaze with chilling pupils and spoke.

“I have no intention of receiving an apology from the Sect Leader of the Wudang Sect either. This matter was the fault of Wudang’s disciple.”

A terrifying Killing Intent surfaced across Youngho’s face.

“You should feel ashamed. We will speak of this later. For now, the situation is quite unfavorable.”

With that, Youngho returned to where Jongpal stood and asked,

“……Is it true that Sancheon is dead?”

Jongpal rubbed his reddened eyes and answered,

“…Yes.”

“Sancheon had family, didn’t he?”

“Yes. He said he had a younger sister and an elder sister who was soon to be married.”

“…….”

Youngho said nothing. He offered no words of comfort to Jongpal, nor did he display outward sorrow.

After slowly nodding, he spoke.

“Very well. I will personally inform Sancheon’s family.”

At the words that he would go in person, Jongpal formed a faint smile.

“You are taking care of them.”

“I can no longer help the one concerned, so at least I should do this much. And soon, there will be many who won’t even get to enjoy such small kindness.”

“What do you mean by that…?”

“We’ll talk later. For now, we need rest. Many are injured, and if we’re to think about the aftermath, we must conserve our strength.”

At the word aftermath, Jongpal’s eyes flashed savagely.

Youngho turned to Gojeong.

“Hall Master, we will rest for now. I leave the rest to you.”

Without waiting for Gojeong’s reply, Youngho led his subordinates deep into the mountains.

He guided them to a place beyond the sight of the Orthodox Sect before sitting down.

“Let’s rest now. Hyeon-gang, provide only emergency treatment.”

“To do that properly, we should clean the wounds… but since it’s urgent, we’ll at least wrap them in bandages for now.”

With practiced hands, Hyeon-gang wrapped bandages around Youngho’s body and asked,

“Why is the Murim Alliance here?”

Youngho replied in a languid tone.

“Who knows. Still, among the recent actions of the Orthodox Sect, this was at least somewhat proper. At this rate, they’ll be able to eliminate all the Jiangshi.”

“The number of soldiers dispatched by the Murim Alliance did not seem that great.”

“There must be a reason Flowing Wind Spear sent out multiple Messenger Pigeons. He likely summoned the Mid-sized and Small Sects in the vicinity. Perhaps not against something like a Blood Demon Jiangshi, but ordinary Jiangshi can be killed by a First Rate Martial Artist.”

“Then in conclusion, they will hold them off?”

“That’s right.”

Hyeon-gang began writing a letter on the paper he had received from Gojeong. After finishing, he placed it into a case and secured it inside the travel pouch strapped to Seonpung.

Closing the pouch, Hyeon-gang stroked Seonpung’s chin.

“The destination is the Medical Pavilion of Hwa Ryeong. You’ve been there before, so you know the location, right?”

Seonpung made a low rumbling sound as if in understanding.

“Good. Go.”

At Hyeon-gang’s words, Seonpung shot forward like a Lightning-Like Charge. Its speed did not fall behind that of a master in the Transformation Realm.

Seeing how much faster Seonpung had become compared to several years ago, Hyeon-gang looked slightly surprised.

But there was no time to dwell on it. Though not to Youngho’s extent, the members of the Asura Squad bore various injuries, and Hyeon-gang applied temporary measures.

Meanwhile, Kang Hosan and three other masters of the Transformation Realm had already assumed the Cross-Legged Meditation Posture and begun Circulation and Regulation of Qi.

From the way their complexions improved merely through circulating Qi, it was evident that after undergoing Bone-Marrow Reforging, their bodies possessed astonishing recovery.

Hyeon-gang approached Youngho.

“Young Master, please allow me to examine you.”

“What? You’ve already wrapped the bandages and checked everything.”

“To be honest, I have not perfectly observed your body.”

“It’s fine. Aside from the severe Internal Injury.”

“I wouldn’t bring it up over something trivial like that.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Seeing Youngho tilt his head as if he truly did not understand, Hyeon-gang tightened his jaw.

—Did you use Innate True Qi?

At the Voice Transmission, Youngho let out a faint chuckle.

—Yes.

At that answer, Hyeon-gang’s face twisted like that of an evil spirit.

***

Bang—!

The moment Han Yonghu finished reading the contents of the letter, he slammed his fist onto the desk. Naturally, the desk was not sturdy enough to withstand a Single Strike from a master of the Transformation Realm.

Ignoring the furnishings collapsing to the ground, Han Yonghu shouted,

“What in the world is this!?”

He could accept that the Demonic Cult had ambushed Youngho’s group along with Shaolin and the Wudang Sect. It was the Demonic Cult, after all.

But upon reading that the Demonic Cult had seized the Sacred Relic of the Wudang Sect, he groaned. And when he read that thousands of Jiangshi sealed by that relic were about to be released into the world, he was horrified.

There was further information about Blood Demon Jiangshi, Poison Jiangshi, and other dangerous variants—but that was not the most pressing matter.

—Concern of the Sword Exalted’s rampage. Request reinforcements.

At those final words, Han Yonghu’s heart began to burn with urgency.

“I must go personally.”

If Youngho were to speak informally the moment he saw him and voice his grievances about the Orthodox Sect, that would be the worst-case scenario.

Praying that Youngho would at least show him proper courtesy, Han Yonghu immediately mobilized his forces and headed toward Gojeong’s location.