Maybe It Does Not Matter Anymore.

He charged in and swung his fist.

At that moment, a saber swept up from below.

Gyo-ha twisted his upper body to evade the blade.

But a shock soon slammed into his temple.

As he staggered back, what came into Gyo-ha’s view was Wild Gale Blade’s elbow.

The man had twisted his torso and struck with his elbow the instant Gyo-ha dodged the saber.

His mind snapped clear.

Wild Gale Blade sauntered toward the reeling Gyo-ha.

“You figured since it was two on one, I was just some dick?”

Tweh!

He spat on the ground.

That only meant the Sword Queen was extraordinary, not that Wild Gale Blade was weak.

Gyo-ha gave a nod.

He had never meant to underestimate him as Wild Gale Blade said. He had simply moved the way he always did.

‘He is not someone I can face the way I usually do.’

His opponent was a powerhouse.

Gyo-ha’s tongue traced his lips and the metallic taste of blood spread across his tongue.

Gyo-ha sprang in again.

His fist cut through the air, but a saber barred the way before it could reach Wild Gale Blade.

Kwaang!

Gyo-ha’s fist rebounded backward.

Yet Wild Gale Blade, who had blocked it, also furrowed his brow.

The shock in his hand did not come from his wounds.

‘So he does have some tricks.’

If not, there was no way Wild Gale Blade’s men would have gone down like that.

Each one of them might not be a refined martial artist, yet they were seasoned fighters.

As if he felt no pain, Gyo-ha reached out again.

Wild Gale Blade’s expression grew serious as well.

He knocked the incoming hand aside with his saber.

In that brief instant, Gyo-ha shifted his hand and struck the flat of the blade.

The saber’s edge wavered, but when Wild Gale Blade twisted his wrist, the shuddering blade returned to line.

He clearly knew how to use palm techniques as well.

Their exchange continued.

Yet the longer it went on, the more Wild Gale Blade’s face twisted.

He finally grasped the source of the irritation he had been feeling.

‘This brat.’

The kid was refusing to open the distance. Even when he was knocked away, he did not fall back.

He clung on tenaciously.

Was it instinct, or was he doing it on purpose.

He was breaking the flow of his forms.

Either way, it meant he was a born brawler. It was not something that could be learned.

It was a knack you saw only in old masters of the Kangho with a wealth of experience.

It made it hard to swing his saber properly.

‘So he is not just strong.’

But so what.

The saber was not the only thing he had.

Bwooong.

The saber that had been driving forward was checked, lacking the force it had had before.

The instant his swing was blocked, Wild Gale Blade’s fist slammed into Gyo-ha’s side.

Teok.

At the feel under his knuckles, Wild Gale Blade’s eyebrow twitched.

At some point Gyo-ha had blocked it with his elbow.

‘He read that?’

Was it a coincidence?

Wild Gale Blade’s gaze wavered.

Seizing the opening, Gyo-ha thrust out his palm.

However.

The saber’s hilt smashed into Gyo-ha’s elbow.

Ttudeuk.

With a chilling crack, Gyo-ha staggered back.

His arm dangled loosely.

‘I don’t know what he was trying to do.’

But if he prepared it that much, there was no way it would not stand out.

Gyo-ha, who had retreated, let out a belated ah of realization.

“…For someone on your level, even this is too slow. I will have to tune it up more.”

It was the simplified form of Wild Rampage Strike.

Even that, it seemed, appeared slow to true masters.

He grabbed his dangling arm.

A moment later, feeling what was under his fingers, he pursed his lips.

The bone was broken. This was not something he could fix by just setting it.

‘This is going to last a while.’

He could not use that arm for the time being.

“Well, maybe it doesn’t matter anymore.”

At the out-of-the-blue remark, Wild Gale Blade looked at Gyo-ha.

From his tone he might have sounded resigned, but Wild Gale Blade knew that was not it.

Gyo-ha’s eyes held nothing but Wild Gale Blade.

He knew one other man who had eyes like that.

Men like that would die before they gave up.

They were mad for battle.

The one who had driven them out of Liaoning had worn that same look.

Recalling memories he had tried to forget left a bitter taste on Wild Gale Blade’s tongue.

He turned the rising disgust toward the Gyo-ha before his eyes.

When Gyo-ha met Wild Gale Blade’s gaze, he spoke.

“Your men. You taught them, did you not?”

“What?”

“Their martial arts are clearly different, but should I call it their habits? They are similar.”

Wild Gale Blade had not passed his exclusive saber art down to his men.

He did not trust his subordinates that far.

He had simply offered a few pointers whenever a chance came up.

Not everyone in the bandit troop he led had started out using sabers.

But even Wild Gale Blade could not handle weapons he did not know.

Naturally, only those who took his advice survived.

Those men were the current Red Flame Unit.

Of course their habits and movements ended up resembling Wild Gale Blade’s.

But what did that matter?

Wild Gale Blade could not understand.

Instead of explaining, Gyo-ha showed him.

He swung a kick toward Wild Gale Blade.

‘Idiot.’

The kid had not been able to touch him even when both arms worked.

Now he only had one hand left. A leg would not change that.

Wild Gale Blade snorted at him and moved to swing his saber.

However.

Teok.

Gyo-ha’s fist was already pressed against his elbow.

Then the kick came flying in.

He tried to dodge, but the angle of the leg shifted as if it were alive.

Kwaang!

Wild Gale Blade’s head rocked.

He had turned his head, yet he had not fully avoided the blow.

Next came a knee strike.

He blocked it with the hilt of his saber and slid back with a jerk.

‘Damn it.’

Gyo-ha’s body spun and his dangling arm whipped across Wild Gale Blade’s head.

A second blow.

He had not yet shaken off the first impact. His skull rang with a high whine.

Even so, Wild Gale Blade still reached out with his hand.

Yet that hand was blocked as well.

Only then could Wild Gale Blade understand what Gyo-ha had said.

‘He is reading my movements.’

The way his moves had been read earlier had not been a mistake or coincidence.

Even with his head still spinning, Wild Gale Blade tried to change his blade path.

His forms, his movements, shifted.

Something new flashed in Gyo-ha’s eyes.

He had seen plenty of similar cases before, but this was the first time anyone had adapted this quickly.

But Gyo-ha had no intention of waiting around for him to get used to it.

The battle was still raging.

He could not use either the full Wild Rampage Strike or its simplified form.

But those two were not all Gyo-ha had.

There was Kunlun’s fist art, Descending Goose Fist.

Its movements were gentle, like a goose alighting on the ground.

Yet it did not suit Gyo-ha.

His temperament was different.

That was why, when they met again, Yun Heo had reworked the technique.

A disciple of Kunlun could not go around using only other sects’ arts.

As Yun Heo put it…

It was not Descending Goose Fist but Falling Goose Flailing Wings Fist.

He said it resembled a goose that had fallen into water, flailing its wings in a frenzy, and named it so.

Gyo-ha slipped into Wild Gale Blade’s guard and his hands went to work.

Peodeudeuk.

His blows were as fast as beating wings, quick enough to make that sound.

Wild Gale Blade’s head snapped back from a palm strike and a knife-hand chop slammed into his shoulder right after.

Like a goose’s wings, his hands battered Wild Gale Blade.

Every time his hands and feet moved, Wild Gale Blade’s body jolted.

Palms, knife-hand edges, the backs of his hands and his wrists, his elbows and shoulders.

He used every part to strike his opponent.

For an ordinary person those stances would not have put any real power behind the blows.

But Gyo-ha was different.

His body could turn even light attacks into something devastating.

The more Wild Gale Blade struggled, the closer Gyo-ha pressed in.

By now, he understood.

He had learned to read Wild Gale Blade’s movements from fighting his subordinates.

‘Stupid bastards. Even till the end, you’re not… help…’

Wild Gale Blade could not finish the thought.

The relentless flurry of blows.

When the flailing wings came to an end, Wild Gale Blade toppled.

Koong.

He had already lost consciousness.

Beside him, Gyo-ha dropped to his knees with a thud.

His whole body throbbed and blood flowed from his wounds.

This was the recoil of Descending Goose Fist… of Falling Goose Flailing Wings Fist.

It was an attack carried out at extreme close range.

It shocked the enemy, but the impact inevitably accumulated in Gyo-ha’s own body as well.

At this point it had almost nothing in common with Descending Goose Fist, yet since its foundation came from that art, it still counted as a Kunlun technique.

All the more so because the one who modified it was Kunlun’s Sect Leader.

It was a Kunlun martial art that no one could deny.

‘This is why I hate using it.’

Uwek.

He coughed up blood.

His internal injuries had spread.

After spewing a mouthful of blood, Gyo-ha moved up to Wild Gale Blade.

He could faintly hear the man breathing.

He was still alive.

Gyo-ha clenched his fist and brought it down on Wild Gale Blade’s head.

Koong!

Wild Gale Blade’s body jerked.

Once more.

Koong!

Only then did Wild Gale Blade’s breathing fall silent.

Gyo-ha gave him one last blow just to be sure, then pushed himself to his feet.

At some point the battlefield had gone quiet.

The Red Flame Unit’s warriors had watched their leader die.

Gyo-ha looked over at them, yet not one of them came at him.

They avoided his eyes instead.

Their eyes were filled with fear.

‘Honestly, if they rushed me now, it would be dangerous.’

There was not a shred of strength left in his body.

Gyo-ha moved off to the side, keeping his guard up against them.

Right then, Short-Trunk Man, who had been regulating his qi and breath, sensed something amiss and opened his eyes.

His body would not move, so only his eyes rolled quietly.

His judgment was quick, as befitted an old master of the Kangho.

“I… I will pay you if you spare me!”

His voice was desperate, and the fact that he could not even break his meditation posture at a time like this told Gyo-ha how deep his internal injuries ran.

Gyo-ha did not even need to swing his fist.

Puk.

A sword blade burst out through Short-Trunk Man’s throat.

“Gurk, keok.”

Blood gushed back out of his mouth.

It was the Sword Queen.

She watched the falling Short-Trunk Man with a cold gaze.

Then she turned to Gyo-ha and pressed her palms together.

“Amitabha. Thank you for your aid.”

At her formal bow, Gyo-ha hurriedly waved his hand.

“I will offer my thanks properly once this matter is over.”

Leaving those words behind, the Sword Queen limped away.

She needed to rest at once, yet Gyo-ha could not bring himself to stop her.

He glanced to the side.

Seven-Foot Freak, Short-Trunk Man’s elder brother.

His breathing had stopped as well, his neck severed.

There was no need to ask who had done it.

The blood trail led all the way from him to Short-Trunk Man.

“I should get moving too.”

He turned his head and looked out over the battlefield.

The tide of battle had already turned.

With their leader dead and the Sword Queen joining the fray, there was no way they could fight properly.

Their momentum had snapped.

Some tried to flee, but even that did not look easy.

At some point the boats that had been moored were bobbing freely out on the sea.

They were the villagers who had brought the boats here.

The Red Flame Unit had not killed them, planning on using them to sail back.

That was a small mercy.

The villagers had watched and, the moment the Red Flame Unit tried to escape, moved the boats away.

There were those who jumped off their horses and tried to swim, but it was not easy.

They were men who had lived their lives only in the saddle.

There was no way they could swim in the sea, which was no mere river.

On top of that, the Zhushan Archipelago was famous for its rough waves.

Gyo-ha and the sword disciples finished off the remaining men one by one.

Some surrendered, but there was no mercy.

Even Yeon-gyeong took lives with a cold gaze.

It was the same for the other sword disciples. In their eyes there was no compassion or pity, only anger and resentment.

Watching them, Gyo-ha felt a faint bitterness.

But there was no helping it if you lived in the Murim.

Gyo-ha swung his fist at the man trembling in front of him.

Kwajik.

Blood soaked the sand.

Even the red sunset could not hide the blood.

That was how the battle came to an end.