You Reap What You Sow

Clang!

Seomun blocked Bu Neungpa’s flying Soaring Sword with his fan, but the force was so strong that his entire arm trembled.

Though he had lost his sight, his inner power seemed to have multiplied severalfold.

There were wagons trailing right behind him, so there was no room to retreat.

The thought that he might have to stake his life drenched his hands in sweat.

“This is my fight.”

At that moment, Ma Sepung’s cold hand pressed firmly on Seomun’s shoulder.

He didn’t want to drag outsiders into a family quarrel.

The time had finally come to settle the sins he had long turned away from.

Seomun couldn’t step back; he turned to find his master’s face.

Seong Gon offered no words, only a nod.

It was a sign to honor his friend’s will.

“Ma Sepung! What do you think you’re doing?”

Bu Neungpa’s face, roaring at his eldest senior brother, was as ferocious as could be.

This senile old man had lived so long in seclusion that he seemed to have forgotten his country and his identity.

Over twenty years ago, the sect head had cowardly fled; now, to betray the nation and aid the people of Ryeo—being of the same sect was beyond disgrace.

“My younger brother, it’s been a while. How are you? Anyone would think you could still see.”

Ma Sepung did not even take a defensive stance.

Instead, he grinned and stepped closer toward Bu Neungpa.

The other brimmed with killing intent, ready to strike at any moment—yet here he was joking, looking utterly insane.

“Hmph! Today I’ll personally strike down this traitor!”

Though they hadn’t met in years, in his heart he had long since severed ties with his senior brother.

Though blind, he believed his skill alone was enough to win.

“You really are ever the same—rash and reckless. How is it you never change?”

Whether he knew his younger brother’s feelings or not, Ma Sepung only smiled as he closed the distance.

“So that’s how you’ll be?”

Flustered, Bu Neungpa unconsciously began stepping back.

Knowing his sahyung’s skill, he couldn’t help but feel intimidated.

Only about one jang (approx. 3 meters) separated them now.

He knew a thrust with the Soaring Sword would reach, yet strangely he hesitated, unable to strike.

“Brother, your eldest sahyung can no longer use the Soul’s Eminence Fist.”

A sharp, nasal voice rang out from somewhere.

No figure appeared, but everyone there immediately knew who it was.

It was Go Yu-saeng, Elder of the Yellow Stone Sect.

“Grain in Ear!”

At Go Yu-saeng’s cry, Bu Neungpa’s fists flew at Ma Sepung’s face as if on cue.

His right hand whipped up hot wind, enclosed by his left—forming a terrifying vortex within his fists.

“Master!”

At Yun-seon’s desperate cry, Ma Sepung threw his waist back.

Thanks to it, his opponent’s two fists just grazed past his face.

Twisting his body toward his left side and thrusting both legs in succession, he naturally flowed into readiness for the next move, Grain Buds.

“This is the Grain-in-Ear Strike!”

‘So that’s the method Master spoke of for breaking the fist-force.’

To teach not only the technique but also the method to break it—what a strange lesson.

Now he realized—that itself was part of the complete Soul’s Eminence Fist.

“Yun-seon! This time, let’s dodge Great Heat!”

As expected, Bu Neungpa’s fists now shifted into the Great Heat form, striking hard at Ma Sepung’s dantian.

Even Seomun nearby was blasted by the heat, the explosive qi so strong it was hard to breathe.

“The Soul’s Eminence Fist is modeled after changes in the weather. Its twenty-four supreme techniques correspond to the twenty-four solar terms.”

Yun-seon, astonishingly, was savoring the lesson even amid this life-or-death battle.

He had only learned half, yet seeing it in reality revealed parts he hadn’t before grasped.

Though anxious for Ma Sepung’s safety, his eyes shone brighter than ever as he caught each move.

‘A born genius.’

Seomun was dumbfounded at the paradoxical sight.

A master teaching while risking his life, and a disciple swallowing it like a chick fed by its mother—both were frightening in their own way.

“Now! From here on, it’s the part you haven’t learned—watch closely!”

After fifty exchanges of blazing heat, Bu Neungpa’s fists now brimmed with icy qi.

Unlike before, the air settled calm and still; then suddenly, he crouched low and thrust his fists toward Ma Sepung’s legs.

“This is Frost’s Descent!”

As if waiting for it, Ma Sepung kicked aside Bu Neungpa’s left hand with his right foot and vaulted over the incoming right.

Flipping backward, he landed atop Bu Neungpa’s shoulders.

“Let’s call this Frost’s Descent Cloud Qi from today.”

Landing lightly behind him with a chuckle, Ma Sepung finally pushed Bu Neungpa past his limit.

He drew both fists to his waist, preparing Soul Eminent Severe Cold, the highest stage of the Soul’s Eminence Fist.

“Oh dear, this is trouble.”

Ma Sepung flailed theatrically as he circled Bu Neungpa.

The sight looked like pure mockery; watching, Hyunjin couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Senior Brother Go!”

“Left three, right seven!”

At Bu Neungpa’s cry, Go Yu-saeng called out the direction of his strike.

By the time Ma Sepung tried to dodge, Bu Neungpa’s left fist had already slammed into his Chest Center acupoint.

“Master!”

Yun-seon tried to dash forward, but Jeok-woo grabbed him from behind and held him back.

At the same time, Seong Gon used lightness skill to sprint behind the pine forest.

He had been waiting for Go Yu-saeng’s voice to ring out again.

“You rat-like bastard!”

The moment Go Yu-saeng saw Seong Gon rushing toward him, he hurled himself away to flee.

If it came down to a true fight, he had no confidence in defeating this Sword Demon.

All he needed was to buy time until Jo Yang arrived; he had no intention of staking his life.

“Catch me if you can!”

In inner power he was inferior, but in lightness skill, he was confident he wouldn’t lose to Seong Gon.

Even if caught, draining his opponent’s strength beforehand might expose a flaw.

It might seem cowardly, but if it created an advantage, it was worth trying.

After flying what felt like several ri¹), Go Yu-saeng suddenly felt a chill at the nape of his neck.

Sure enough, Seong Gon’s Taiyi Palm slammed against his back.

“Urgh!”

“What a wretched bastard you are!”

Drawing up his Taiyi Divine Art to empower his footwork, Seong Gon caught Go Yu-saeng in less than 15 minutes.

He had always despised him, and now intended to crush him utterly.

“He’s greedy, but not entirely rotten at heart.”

It had always been Ma Sepung who stepped in to shield his martial brother whenever Seong Gon sneered.

Recalling his old friend’s face, Seong Gon could no longer contain his rage.

To betray and try to kill such a senior brother—he could never forgive it.

“You, Sword Demon! Today we’ve met well.”

Barely twisting aside from Seong Gon’s palm-force, Go Yu-saeng drew his treasured sword and took an attack stance.

Thanks to his damned senior brother, he had crossed paths many times but never fought him directly.

Perhaps it was all notoriety—his skills might be closer to his own than rumored.

In swordsmanship, he prided himself on being second to none, not even far behind Jo Yang.

“Eight Demons, your fate really is filthy.”²

Seong Gon shook his head and drew his own treasured sword, the Taiyi Sword.

He would have preferred to beat him to death barehanded, but as he was his friend’s martial brother, he decided to grant him the courtesy of the sword.

“ Westerly Wind of the Moon and Mountains!”

Go Yu-saeng struck first.

Though less famed than his martial brother Bu Neungpa’s Soaring Sword, the refinement of the Moon-Mountain Sword was among the finest of the Five Great Mountain Swords.

In truth, unable to learn the fist-force from his master, he had poured his grudge into inner cultivation.

Combined with Yellow Stone Sect’s internal art Earth-Shattering Palm of Heaven and the Moon-Mountain Sword, he could unleash sword energy surpassing Soaring Sword.

“You’re flailing.”

But Seong Gon merely defended against Go Yu-saeng’s dazzling swordplay, never even taking an offensive stance.

It was refined and dazzling indeed—but riddled with flaws above, below, left, and right.

“Taiyi’s Supremacy!”

As the Moon-Mountain Sword unleashed dozens of sword auras toward his vital points, Seong Gon simply stepped back twice.

At the same time, his sword swept, gathering the scattered Sword qi into the center.

Channeling more than half his Taiyi Divine Art into it, the Moon-Mountain Sword instantly lost its glow.

It was completely bound by the Taiyi Sword.

“Damn it!”

Startled, Go Yu-saeng tried to pull back his sword.

But the Taiyi Sword stuck fast to it, and he ended up dragging its blade toward his own chest.

“Ugh!”

In the end, the only option was to release his sword.

Go Yu-saeng hung his head in shock.

Still, as a sect elder, to lose in fewer than a hundred moves was infuriating and humiliating.

Seong Gon shook off the Moon-Mountain Sword from his blade and strode toward Go Yu-saeng.

This was already enough to save his opponent’s dignity.

There was no reason to drag it further—he would now end the duel.

“Die!”

Clang!

Just as the blade reached Go Yu-saeng’s nape, another sword rang out brightly, intercepting the Taiyi Sword.

“Not yet.”

Upon seeing who it was, Seong Gon’s face instantly hardened.

The man in fluttering blue robes, smiling leisurely—it was none other than Jo Yang, leader of the Martial Alliance, who had ridden all night.

“My disciple, your master is not so weak.”

Ma Sepung, who had collapsed to the ground, rose while dusting the dirt from his body.

His face still wore a smile, proof that he had evaded at the right moment.

Yun-seon’s eyes welled with tears as he let out a sigh of relief.

“You traitorous bastard, today I’ll surely take your head!”

Bu Neungpa at last drew the Soaring Sword, which had been lodged in the ground.

He had judged that subduing him with their shared Soul’s Eminence Fist was impossible.

No matter how great his senior brother, he could not break every stroke of the Soaring Sword.

“Younger brother, let’s stop this now.”

“Hmph! You scheme only because you can’t win! There is no chance!”

Hearing Ma Sepung’s first serious tone, Bu Neungpa grew triumphant, believing victory was his.

With the sword, no one in the world could defeat him.

“Let us commit no more sins.”

Ma Sepung swallowed down the blood surging in his throat and stepped toward Bu Neungpa.

When the distance closed to within ten feet once more, Bu Neungpa again shuffled backward, glancing nervously around.

Feeling his opponent’s aura clearly made him deeply uneasy.

“Senior Brother Go!”

Bu Neungpa cried desperately, but of course there was no answer from Go Yu-saeng.

“As you lost your sight, so I too lost my wrist.”

In a flash, Ma Sepung reached him, seized his trembling hand, and pressed it to his own right wrist.

“As Go Yu-saeng said, I can no longer use the Soul’s Eminence Fist. Yet it causes me no pain.”

Tears dripped from Ma Sepung’s eyes, one by one.

He had lived countless years in guilt and regret.

To save his younger brother, still shackled by vile desire, was his final wish.

“Well done!”

“Master!”

“Sect Lord Ma!”

From the Soaring Sword’s blade, which pierced Ma Sepung’s side, thick dark blood dripped.

Feigning fear had been the key.

His foolish martial brother had mistaken him for truly repentant.

He was a truly disgusting man.

He had no right to be called eldest sahyung.

He was nothing but a traitor who felt no shame in betraying his nation.

“Uhuhuhuhuhu…”

Bu Neungpa dropped to his knees and wailed at the sky.

His chilling cry resounded through the deep mountain valley.

It was laughter light and free, as if fulfilling a long-cherished wish.

Thud!

“Urk!”

But with a dull thud, that eerie laughter cut off as if it had never been.

Before his pale face stood Ma Sepung, leaning on the Soaring Sword he had pulled from his side like a cane.

His clenched left fist had made a great hole in the forehead of his once-beloved martial brother, Bu Neungpa.

It was his life-long technique: Soul Eminent Severe Cold.

“Now our winter has ended.”

Ma Sepung pulled the Soaring Sword out from the ground and severed the tendons of his own left hand.

And then he collapsed straight onto the ground.

자작자수 (自作自受), You Reap What You Sow:

As one commits evil, one must receive the consequences of those evils.