Chapter 141

Bukgung Yoon quickly pointed at the wine jar filled with Japanese ginger alcohol and spoke, diverting Bukgung Yeong-no’s gaze.

“It’s not alcohol.”

“It seems like it is, though?”

“I’m telling you, it’s not.”

“Yun, I’m a bloodhound. I can sniff out alcohol like no one. Are you lying to your brother over a measly jar of wine?”

“Well…”

Yeon Mujin stepped forward in place of the struggling Bukgung Yoon and said.

“Actually, it is alcohol.”

“See?”

“Do you know the Ghost Valley Manor’s A-Bi-Gyu-Hwan? I got it from them. Brewed with care by the rough hands of Ai Ja…”

From the moment the name A-Bi-Gyu-Hwan was mentioned, Bukgung Yeong-no’s expression soured.

He had an utter aversion to left-school drinking methods like Mist, Might, Mayhem.

“My appetite’s gone. I don’t care — put it away.”

“You’ll have to step aside if you want it cleared.”

Bukgung Yeong-no, still holding his head in his fist, stared at Yeon Mujin for a moment and said.

“You, Lord of the External Protection Troops, your martial skill has progressed.”

This time it was Yeon Mujin, not Bukgung Yoon, who had to backpedal.

“No, it’s not.”

“It seems like it? Your aura is subtly different from the last time I saw you.”

‘Like a ghost.’

When did he even see Yeon Mujin before to remember the level of his martial skill so quickly?

Bukgung Yeong-no was like a bear dull in other matters, but in martial arts he was a beast with a keen sixth sense.

It felt unsettling.

That ominous premonition, like when first facing a gambling monk, returned….

“Now that I think about it, last time I postponed the match using Yun as an excuse. Perfect timing. You—fight me.”

Bukgung Yeong-no rose to his feet.

“I refuse.”

“Refusal is refused.”

“I cannot draw my sword rashly without my lord’s permission.”

Yeon Mujin looked at Bukgung Yoon with the yearning, poignant eyes of someone seeing a first love again.

“Hmmm.”

Seeing that expression, Bukgung Yoon’s lips curved slowly into a smile.

“Captain Yeon, last time I asked you to show me your full martial art once, you refused, didn’t you?”

“…Manor Lord?”

“And at Hundred Ghost Mountain you even spied on me…”

“I already said that was a misunderstanding, didn’t I?”

“Brother Yeong-no.”

“Hmm?”

“I’d like to observe my guard’s skill as well. Spar with him to your heart’s content.”

“Haha!”

Bukgung Yeong-no burst into loud laughter.

“No need to say more!”

Clang!

Bukgung Yeong-no drew the straight sword at his waist.

“Damn it.”

Even Bukgung Yoon had had enough now.

Yeon Mujin drew the sword he wore; he couldn’t face Bukgung Yeong-no without drawing his blade.

Once a sword is drawn, a fight is undertaken with the resolve to kill the opponent.

Three Calamities Sword — Heavenly Thunder.

Yeon Mujin’s blade fell like a thunderbolt from above.

In response, Bukgung Yeong-no’s sword rose from below to strike upward.

Clang!

“…!”

Surprise colored Bukgung Yeong-no’s expression as he looked at Yeon Mujin.

Was it strength? Skill? Neither.

He was astonished at Yeon Mujin’s nerve — to challenge and swing a sword at the Bukgung Family’s second young master without hesitation.

And Yeon Mujin didn’t give Bukgung Yeong-no time to revel in his astonishment.

Yeon Mujin assumed his stance again.

So you’re curious about my skill?

Then how about this?

Three Calamities Sword — Raging Wind.

Yeon Mujin’s blade vibrated.

It’s a cheap three coins sword he bought on the way back from Guiyu.

But it didn’t matter — the sword was cheap, not the skill.

As Yeon Mujin pressed the offense, Bukgung Yeong-no cried out with delight.

“That’s it!”

As the Raging Wind strike shot out, Bukgung Yeong-no countered with his sword technique, Offering Sun Blade.

Boom!

Yeon Mujin’s Raging Wind strike, capable of leveling a building in a single blow, was stopped by a single sword of Bukgung Yeong-no.

Damn, at this rate the name Three Calamities Sword is wasted.

Everyone blocks and dodges — what’s so disastrous about Three Calamities?

Those martial folk are such blowhards.

“Oh ho! Give me more! Entertain me further!”

Silence! Shouting face, he launched three streams of sword energy at Bukgung Yeong-no, crouched low, and advanced.

The Three Calamities Sword was Yeon Mujin’s finest learned technique, but his true forte wasn’t single-strike deathblows like the Three Calamities.

It was a dogfight.

Grab!

Bukgung Yeong-no parried the sword qi and caught Yeon Mujin’s fist that sprang up from below his sight.

This ruleless, rootless brawl? It was his favorite kind of fight.

Bukgung Yeong-no struck Yeon Mujin’s face with his elbow.

Yeon Mujin didn’t dodge. Exposing his face, he used the obscured sight to aim at Bukgung Yeong-no’s throat and swung his sword.

A swing meant killing — there was no sign of half-hearted courtesy toward the opponent.

For Bukgung Yeong-no, that was unbearably enjoyable.

How long had it been since he’d had such a mongrel mud fight?

Wham!

Klang!

As Yeon Mujin’s face was struck, Bukgung Yeong-no twisted Yeon Mujin’s blade path low.

He couldn’t evade perfectly; his neck was nicked and bled a little.

At that sight of blood, most others would be startled and slump flat in submission. What a disappointment that would be.

But Yeon Mujin, nose bleeding from the hit, straightened himself again.

“Hahaha!”

It wasn’t the glare of someone stubbornly ranting; it was different.

That fellow was constantly scheming, thinking how to win.

To dare face the Bukgung Family’s second young master! How insane!

Though he’d dodged the duel, Bukgung Yeong-no knew that type of man very well.

A man like himself — only those who find joy in fighting and killing, for whom everything else seems trivial, have such eyes.

Reading that intent in Yeon Mujin’s gaze, Bukgung Yeong-no adopted the same posture.

The two men kicked off and struck with their swords at the same time.

Screech!

At first, force against force.

Clang!

Then speed against speed.

Clang!

Then mixing in the subtleties of phantom swordplay.

Once, twice.

Each time their blades parted, Bukgung Yeong-no thought.

‘He can’t do this. He won’t have mastered this yet.’

He was the Heavenly Martial Manor Lord, the owner of a manor boasting the most martial techniques under heaven.

Thus the weapons and martial arts he could wield were virtually limitless.

Power, speed, illusion, softness…

But no matter what stance he took or which blade he extended, Yeon Mujin produced the same responses.

Like a mirror and without a word, each exchange of attack and defense grew Bukgung Yeong-no’s surprise and exhilaration.

‘He’s a toy too precious to smash!’

He had never seen a martial artist he could match so well.

Yeon Mujin’s sword had no lineage. Those who learned time-honored martial arts retain a stiff, rigid habit in their blades.

That tendency lessens with age and matured skill — but Yeon Mujin wasn’t some decades-old veteran, was he?

Conversely, those who learned martial arts on the road like wanderers reveal their limits quickly.

They only learn techniques by improvisation.

Yet Yeon Mujin was neither.

He had no formal lineage, but his martial depth was not shallow.

And he wasn’t someone who’d stuck to only one thing like a bookish recluse.

Blood boiled.

It was the first time he’d met someone he both wanted to kill and didn’t want to kill.

“Come on, then!”

As Bukgung Yeong-no shouted boldly, Yeon Mujin’s sword snapped cleanly.

Snap!

“…Huh?”

Yeon Mujin casually tossed the broken sword to the ground, scratched the back of his head, and said.

“Well then, I wanted to keep going, but my sword broke, so I can’t.”

“What nonsense is that?”

He waved his sword idly at the External Protection Troops watching him.

“Take another man’s sword and continue!”

Yeon Mujin answered with a serious face.

“Heavenly Martial Manor Lord, what do you mean? To a warrior a sword is like life. The broken sword is my responsibility — how could I steal the weapons of my juniors?”

“Juniors…”

“Were you looking down on us like that?”

Bukgung Yeong-no said with a look of disbelief.

“You don’t look like the type to fuss over that.”

“Judging someone by appearance alone is a bad habit.”

“No, not appearance — from fighting you. And you say a sword is a warrior’s life, so why don’t you spare it even a little?”

“Sob! My sword!”

“…”

With a shiver-inducing performance, Bukgung Yeong-no pointed at the broken sword and said.

“What kind of life line breaks so easily?”

“Do not insult my sword! I paid three coins at the market for that blade!”

“Damn it, carrying rubbish scrap like that is why you can’t duel properly!”

“Trash? Have you said your piece?”

Bukgung Yeong-no, disappointed, kept fiddling with his useless sword.

“It was just getting fun…”

“Brother, that’s enough. The duel got too fierce; I almost had to step in. Please release our leader.”

“Damn…”

Anyway, with no weapon and Yeon Mujin showing no desire to continue, Bukgung Yeong-no had no choice but to sheath his sword.

Bukgung Yoon asked him.

“By the way, what brings you to Flying Swallow Manor?”

“Ah, right. I almost forgot. I came because I have a favor to ask.”

“To me, a favor?”

“No, not you.”

Bukgung Yeong-no gestured toward Yeon Mujin with his chin and said.

“Him.”

“Didn’t you just have a duel?”

“Not a duel. You there, come with me — we need to go look for someone.”

“Who are you talking about?”

Bukgung Yeong-no rubbed his face as if tired.

“A man named Raging Evil.”

…Raging Evil?

This was something Yeon Mujin hadn’t anticipated.

Bukgung Yeong-no personally went looking for Raging Evil?

“There’s a fellow named Raging Evil at our Heavenly Martial Manor, and recently he seems to have done something to offend the Namgung Family. The Namgung are hunting him down with murder in their eyes; we have to find Raging Evil before they do.”

“He’s your subordinate — you don’t know where he is?”

“I don’t know either. Heavenly Martial Manor isn’t the sort of place that tracks its warriors’ whereabouts. They scatter as they please and rampage as they please. Usually we don’t care if they die while traveling, but this one’s complicated.”

“Then why not search the manor’s warriors and find him?”

“That won’t work. Raging Evil has caused trouble all over Heavenly Martial Manor and has plenty of enemies even there. I’m sure there are more people who’d like to kill Raging Evil than the Namgung lot.”

For the record, Raging Evil was also infamous for his filthy history with women.

“Since we don’t know exactly who hates Raging Evil and who doesn’t, it’s a bother to think it through — my conclusion is it’s better to borrow men from another manor. I hear the leader of the External Protection Troops is good at finding people; I’m borrowing him for a while.”

Bukgung Yoon flatly refused.

“No.”

But Bukgung Yeong-no didn’t back down.

“Yun, I helped you at the Flying Swallow Manor meeting last time, didn’t I? If I helped you, you owe me a favor.”

“…”

“Don’t worry. I won’t send him back in a body. Leader of the External Protection Troops, I’m borrowing you.”