13
#13 “Thank You, Fool”
Inside Yi Hwa Pavilion.
Two beds were placed side by side.
Swish-swish-swish—.
Grandmother slightly opened the window to check outside.
Today, strangely, there wasn’t a single patrol guard in sight. No lanterns lit the area—only thick rain and pitch-black darkness filled the surroundings.
“Lady Song, are you worried?”
A young maid sat beside Grandmother and gazed out the window with her.
It was the direction of Mu Hwa Pavilion, where Cheol Gun-ak was alone.
“I can’t help but worry.”
“But Young Master is a terrifying person! He must have a plan!”
Swoosh—.
Grandmother extended her hand forward.
It was lower than the young maid’s height.
“A few years ago, the Young Master was only this tall.”
“Really!?”
The young maid blinked in surprise.
It was hard to imagine that the Young Master, who now wielded chopsticks to stab people, had once been smaller than her.
Grandmother gently patted the young maid’s head with that same hand.
“And back then…”
Kaboom—!
The world flashed once with an enormous thunderclap.
Startled by the deafening sound, the young maid flinched, and Grandmother hugged her tightly, patting her back soothingly.
“The Young Master used to be frightened like this too.”
“Wow.”
“To think that the same person is now going off to fight alone…”
Song Ok felt heartache on multiple levels.
If he had been born into another family, the Young Master would have lived a peaceful and enviable life as the eldest son.
But unfortunately, he was born into the Iron-Sick Cheol Family, always burdened with hardship.
He still had a long way to go before becoming a true man of the Northern Heavens.
Just a few years ago, he had trembled at the sound of thunder and clung to her for comfort. Now, he had grown so much that he stood as their protector.
“…”
With determination, Grandmother closed the window. From her sash, she pulled out a small green jade pendant.
The young maid’s eyes sparkled at the sight of it.
“It’s beautiful!”
“It’s been such a long time since I last took it out.”
Though the silk thread holding it had faded with age, the green jade itself was spotless, showing how carefully it had been preserved.
Grandmother clasped the pendant in both hands and prayed fervently.
“I’ve been too ashamed to take it out even once since the day I received it. Please forgive me for calling upon you only when I need you.”
Was she invoking a deity?
Or praying for a miracle?
Moved by the sincerity in Grandmother’s expression, the young maid joined her in prayer, clasping her hands together.
“My grandson, born from my heart, is fighting now. This old body can do nothing but shamelessly beg for your help—”
Kaboom—!
Lightning struck.
Grandmother’s tearful plea fell onto the jade pendant.
“Please save him.”
At that moment, the green jade pendant she had been clutching tightly flashed with a brilliant green light.
Faster than the fading lightning, the light shot out from the pendant and flew somewhere, carrying her prayer.
But then—
Kaboom—!
Another bolt of lightning struck.
Outside the slightly ajar window, masked figures appeared.
Between the protective armor and the chains, crimson sparks erupted.
“He has protective armor on his arms!”
Clang—.
Cheol Gun-ak twisted his arm and grabbed the chain with both palms, yanking the two warriors toward him.
“The Young Master possesses monstrous strength!”
Krrrrt—.
Even as they were dragged forward, the two warriors quickly relayed the situation.
Ignoring them, Cheol Gun-ak grabbed their heads—
Bam—!
—and smashed them together.
“Guh!”
The two warriors screamed and collapsed to the ground, dropping the chains they had been holding.
‘Good.’
This was why Cheol Gun-ak had been called the Peerless Martial God in the Central Plains.
Though he hadn’t formally trained in martial arts, he wielded any weapon he picked up with great skill.
‘And if there’s no weapon, I’ll just use my bare hands.’
Clang—.
He snatched Heuk-ya mid-air with his right hand and swung it toward another warrior.
A feat impossible for an ordinary martial artist.
This was Cheol Gun-ak’s unique, chaotic style of combat.
“How can we not kill him yet?!”
Cheol Weigang vented his frustration.
Most of the Black Shadow warriors lay defeated on the ground, and the few remaining were too terrified to approach Cheol Gun-ak.
No matter how he thought about it, it didn’t make sense.
For the Black Shadow warriors to be overwhelmed by Cheol Gun-ak, who hadn’t displayed a single proper martial technique, was inconceivable according to the logic of the martial world.
“It’s clear the Young Master has never formally trained in martial arts…”
Jin Yeong-chung trailed off.
Then, as another warrior was pulled by the chain wrapped around his leg and had his neck pierced by Heuk-ya, Jin Yeong-chung’s suspicion turned into certainty.
“Has the Young Master fought many battles before?”
“What nonsense! He’s never even stepped outside the gates!”
Cheol Weigang raised his voice in disbelief.
It was a fact well-known to Jin Yeong-chung as well, so he blinked several times, organizing his thoughts before speaking.
“The Young Master fights without form or preference for weapons. It resembles the style of a wandering swordsman who has survived countless battles.”
“Suddenly, a wandering swordsman?”
“Yes. A martial artist formally trained in martial arts would reveal traces of their origin through their breathing or footwork. But no matter how I look at it, the Young Master shows none of that.”
This was because martial sects and techniques had histories and patterns.
Yet, no matter how closely Jin Yeong-chung observed Cheol Gun-ak’s movements, there was no rule or pattern.
Without consistent motions, wielding his blade chaotically without fixed paths, Cheol Gun-ak still felled the Black Shadow warriors like autumn leaves in the wind.
“The only explanation is that he has honed his own ‘combat intuition’ through prolonged survival in real battles.”
“Enough of your nonsense! Intuition or whatever—how can the Black Shadow lose to such chaotic fighting?”
“…”
Jin Yeong-chung bowed his head.
Dealing with the seething Cheol Weigang was futile.
Of course, even as the two analyzed Cheol Gun-ak—
“Hah!”
Cheol Gun-ak continued to subdue the Black Shadow warriors without pause.
He stomped on the foot of an approaching warrior, kicked his knee with the other leg, and snatched the dagger from his hand, hurling it toward another opponent.
Whoosh—!
The suddenly flying dagger struck the shoulder of a distant warrior who had been throwing concealed weapons.
Meanwhile, with his right foot, he swung the chain he had just acquired, stretching it taut—
“It’s over.”
He wrapped the remaining two warriors simultaneously.
These two, the weakest fighters who had been harassing from afar with poison and whips, were now caught. Cheol Gun-ak tightened the chain with a sharp pull.
“Guh—!”
Their ribs shattered under the immense force, and they spat blood before collapsing unconscious.
“Phew.”
Cheol Gun-ak stood straight, his back to the burning Mu Hwa Pavilion.
He had single-handedly defeated twenty Black Shadow warriors.
Even after the suicide bomb detonated, he had emerged alive.
Swish-swish-swish—.
Raindrops falling on Cheol Gun-ak’s body instantly turned into white steam, rising into the air.
To the two observers, Cheol Gun-ak looked like a demon freshly risen from hell.
Cheol Weigang gritted his teeth and gave the order.
“Jin Yeong-chung, finish him!”
“Yes, sir.”
Shwing—.
Jin Yeong-chung drew his sword.
Rainwater trickled down the blade.
Having assessed Cheol Gun-ak’s abilities, he approached cautiously.
Thud—.
Cheol Gun-ak tossed the chain he had been holding onto the ground and gripped Heuk-ya once more.
‘The guards of the Golden Nine Pavilion were all useless, but this one seems somewhat troublesome.’
Whoooooosh—.
The wind blew.
The rain slanted sideways, obscuring the vision of the two as they prepared for their life-and-death duel. Cheol Weigang broke the brief silence with a shout.
“Jin Yeong-chung is from the Qingming Squad!”
The Qingming Squad, one of the Eight Great Squads guarding the Extreme North Frontline.
Among the eight organizations grouped under the Eight Great Squads, the Qingming Squad, along with the Black Name Squad and Blood Name Squad stationed in the Extreme North, were considered top-tier.
Simply surviving the hellish conditions of the Extreme North was proof of Jin Yeong-chung’s extraordinary skill.
Cheol Weigang boasted confidently, trusting in Jin Yeong-chung’s abilities.
“There’s no way my exhausted brother will survive this.”
“You fool.”
Cheol Gun-ak clicked his tongue.
Jin Yeong-chung faintly smiled, subtly agreeing with Cheol Gun-ak’s words.
“Thank you for telling me about your enemy for your petty pride, fool.”
“…!”
Revealing information about an unpredictable opponent like Cheol Gun-ak was a disadvantage.
Especially since mentioning his origins in the Qingming Squad would make Jin Yeong-chung even more cautious, making the fight harder.
But Jin Yeong-chung covered for Cheol Weigang’s blunder and spoke.
“Even if you know, what difference does it make?”
After all, there was an undeniable gap between him and Cheol Gun-ak.
“I’ll make sure your death isn’t painful.”
Taptap—.
Jin Yeong-chung kicked off the muddy ground.
His sword cut through the raindrops, aiming for Cheol Gun-ak’s throat.
Qing River Sixteen Sword Technique.
First Opening.
The rising blade.
Within it, Cheol Gun-ak mirrored—
First Opening─.
Reflecting like a mirror, Cheol Gun-ak replicated Jin Yeong-chung’s technique, extending Heuk-ya.
Jin Yeong-chung’s eyes widened like saucers.
“How is this possible…!”
Clang-clang-clang—!
Jin Yeong-chung’s sword and Cheol Gun-ak’s Heuk-ya clashed, scattering sparks.
Amidst the sparks—
Cheol Gun-ak’s fiery gaze bore into him like a predator ready to devour its prey.
Whoosh—.
Above, his gaze.
Below, his foot.
Just as he had done to the Black Shadow warriors, he aimed to stomp down on Jin Yeong-chung’s foot.
But Jin Yeong-chung, proving his Qingming Squad origins, shouted—
“I’ve seen this move before!”
Swish—.
He swiftly pulled his foot back.
Had he not seen it, he would have been caught, but knowing it allowed him to evade easily.
Still, dodging didn’t lighten Jin Yeong-chung’s heart.
“You shouldn’t have had the chance to see it…”
How had Cheol Gun-ak perfectly replicated the Qingming Squad’s secret sword technique, the Qing River Sixteen Sword Technique?
Desperately, Jin Yeong-chung searched for other possibilities.
But he knew better than anyone that there were no Qingming Squad members near the Iron-Sick Cheol Family.
He had come to this unknown place to escape the grueling Extreme North Frontline.
That meant Cheol Gun-ak was seeing the Qing River Sixteen Sword Technique for the first time—
“Stop overthinking and come at me.”
Smirk—.
Cheol Gun-ak grinned.
It seemed like a decent sword technique, so he tried imitating it—and it fit him well.
Cheol Gun-ak lightly flicked his left hand.
“Let’s talk with our swords, like true martial artists.”
“That’s not wrong.”
Jin Yeong-chung increased the distance between them, gripping his sword vertically.
Swish-swish-swish—.
The thick raindrops soaked their heads and slid down their blades.
It was a night so dark that, without the burning Mu Hwa Pavilion, nothing would have been visible.
‘So he really is from the Qingming Squad.’
Cheol Gun-ak smirked bitterly at Jin Yeong-chung’s proper stance.
He casually mimicked the form and infused it with the power of his First Burning Divine Flame and the essence of his life.
‘A deep and well-researched sword technique.’
It reeked of the battlefield.
Unlike the flashy but hollow swordsmanship of the Central Plains, the Qing River Sixteen Sword Technique was ruthlessly designed to kill.
Cheol Gun-ak smiled faintly at the Qingming Squad’s fittingly lethal swordplay.
‘It suits me well.’
For someone who had fought until the final battlefield, such a killing technique was a perfect match.
“I said, come at me.”
“…”
But Jin Yeong-chung only flinched briefly and didn’t move.
Clang—.
Meanwhile, Cheol Gun-ak planted his left foot firmly in the mud and held his sword horizontally.
“Are you afraid?”
“To live long, one must know fear.”
“Tsk, what a waste to see such a proper martial artist reduced to guarding the Cheol Family.”
Cheol Gun-ak clicked his tongue.
Someone like Jin Yeong-chung was too good to be wasted as a mere guard.
The name of the Northern Heaven Eight Great Squads wasn’t put to shame by him.
But no matter how impressive the title, he was still an enemy (敵).
Seeing Cheol Weigang trembling behind Jin Yeong-chung made it impossible for Cheol Gun-ak to stop.
“Then I’ll come to you.”
“Come—!”
Taptap—.
Breaking through the rain, Cheol Gun-ak charged forward like a beast.
Jin Yeong-chung narrowed his eyes, determined not to miss a single movement of Cheol Gun-ak’s ferocious advance.