A Worthless Father’s Revenge (2)

There was a place in Zhejiang Province famed for its liquor—Shaoxing, where Shaoxing wine, one of China’s Eight Great Famous Liquors, was made.

Neung Je-gang stopped in Shaoxing and bought a carriageful of wine. Master Nam Yeong was not a heavy drinker, but he sometimes drank; if he was going to, better it be good wine.

He not only filled the carriage with Shaoxing wine, but even placed an order to have more delivered to the Kuaiji Mountain Fortress. If he did not take the lead, Master Nam Yeong was the type who would never spend money on expensive drink.

With the wine loaded, he drove for half a day until the foothills of Kuaiji Mountain finally came into view. To reach the mountain Fortress he would have to circle around to the far side, but merely seeing the mountain that felt like a second home warmed his heart.

But the heavens did not let him remain cheerful for long. Before he knew it, people were pacing the carriage on all sides as if escorting it, matching its speed.

Their appearances varied, but their aim seemed obvious: Neung Je-gang’s life, which they made no effort to hide, radiated from them.

They soon blocked the road ahead. Among the hundred-odd figures, Neung Je-gang spotted three faces he could never forget.

“Ha-ha! So even the Three Killers of Blood Sword who tricked me are here. Does that mean the assassin groups have joined forces again, like before?”

Of the Seven Killers now reduced to the Three, they stood quietly in place—until one man stepped forward in front of them.

His attire resembled that of the Three Killers, but with an air of dignity. He also looked much older than they were.

“If you mean the matter of your father, the previous Secret Shadow, then yes.”

At his words, Neung Je-gang blurted out,

“Say, elder—are you the one who took a fifty-thousand-nyang contract and lied to your disciples it was only twenty?”

“Ke-ke-ke!”

“Ga-ga-ga!”

“Ku-ku-ku-ku!”

Laughter burst out among the crowd.

“Silence!”

The old man’s face flushed red as he thundered like rolling thunder.

“Yes. I am that ‘Mad Sage of Blood Sword.’”

At his angry declaration, all laughter vanished. He was clearly the leader of this band.

“Ah, I didn’t know your epithet—thanks for the tip. Anyway, it’s not that it matters. I only say it because I envy you—those fools who trusted you and ran back even after you pulled that stunt. In any case, tell me which groups have gathered here before I die. That way, if I live, I can avenge myself.”

“What use is it to the dying? Ask your father in the underworld. Attack!”

The assassins drew their weapons. Assassins were not the same as ordinary swordsmen. Blood Sword Pavilion staked everything on the sword alone, but other assassin houses were not like that.

In any case, Neung Je-gang was in a bind. If he thought only of saving himself, a hundred—or even a thousand—assassins would be no trouble; but Gwan-an was behind him. He had brought the boy this far—he could not let him die on the very step before Kuaiji Mountain.

‘No way out.’

There was no way to protect Gwan-an. If he stood before the carriage and only defended, perhaps he could guard the boy, but even with the Gate of Life and Death opened, he would eventually collapse from exhaustion. His cultivation was abundant, but his flesh would not endure.

‘Poison, even if it’s risky?’

There was a last resort. He did not want to use it, but with luck, he might finish off the assassins before Gwan-an succumbed.

“Take this.”

Neung Je-gang drew something from his robe and offered it to Gwan-an. The boy said nothing and swallowed it down.

“Lie down inside the carriage and do not come out—no matter what. Even if you lose consciousness. Understood?”

Nod.

Gwan-an nodded once and lay flat on the carriage floor as instructed.

Seeing that, Neung Je-gang rose from the driver’s seat.

Neigh—

Thud.

In an instant, the horses that had faithfully pulled the carriage until now foamed at the mouth, screamed, and collapsed.

Neung Je-gang had sacrificed the horses on purpose, to show how dangerous it was near the carriage.

“Gah!”

Several of the assassins closing in also dropped dead at once for the same reason, poisoned in a heartbeat. With a single cry, they plunged face-first into the earth.

“Poison!”

The assassins panicked and hurriedly fell back. They had come to kill, not to die.

“Ha-ha, a poison without an antidote has been scattered around the carriage. Come close and you’ll die—do as you will.”

It was no lie. The poison was already dispersed. Neung Je-gang would not be poisoned, but to others it was a lethal toxin with no antidote. He had done this to shield Gwan-an, but if unlucky, the boy might also be poisoned.

His venom had taken on this vicious miasma ever since he absorbed the True Blood of the masters who had died in the Forbidden Demon Prison by the Demon Doctor’s hand. The simple poison Nam Yeong had planted in him had transformed into something strange even he could not fully comprehend.

“Lies. What you fed that kid just now—if not an antidote, what was it?”

The Mad Sage of Blood Sword stepped up to rally his assassins.

“That’s the common antidote you lot also carry. It can delay an outbreak a little, but it won’t save you. Which is why I’ll have to be a bit cruel. Before our little ogre dies, I need to beg the world’s greatest divine physician to detoxify him. He might live… maybe.”

Cold words—but true.

Fwoop.

Neung Je-gang had not even drawn the No-Mind Sword. He had many attacks more effective than wielding a sword style he had not mastered perfectly.

For killing, none was better than One-Finger Piercing. Once he set the direction, it never failed.

“Keuk!”

“Ghk!”

“Urragh!”

In an instant, the finger-thrust true energy flew and killed several at once. When the targets were bunched up like the assassins surrounding him, it was an unmatched art.

Thup-thup-thup-thup—

The assassins could not even get close.

The farther they retreated, the more Neung Je-gang chased them, flicking his fingers.

“Aaagh!”

“Stay back! Stay back!”

Wearing a faint smile, Neung Je-gang unleashed the invincible finger force without a shred of hesitation. Some faint-hearted assassins swung their blades madly and fled.

“Huff… huff…”

When only the true elites remained—after the cowards had fled and many had died—Neung Je-gang backed toward the carriage step by step, breathing hard.

“He’s winded. Keep him surrounded and throw hidden weapons!”

As expected, the problem was again the Mad Sage. At his shout, even those who had been fleeing regrouped. However strong and fearsome a man was, once his energy ran dry and he tired, he became prey for assassins.

But the Mad Sage did not know: that the youthful Neung Je-gang was no mere man who had opened only the Ren and Du meridians, but one whose Gate of Life and Death had been pierced—and that his single shout had doomed assassins who might otherwise have survived.

Chaaang—

Neung Je-gang finally drew the No-Mind Sword. His energy was not lacking; he had only feigned fatigue, because if he kept using One-Finger Piercing the leaders might run.

Now it was time to settle it by the sword.

“Hah… hah… Mad Sage of Blood Sword! How about you and I cross blades? Let the others rest a moment.”

“Don’t be absurd. You think I don’t see through your ploy to catch your breath? And you might use poison—do you take this old man for a fool? Throw the hidden weapons! Throw them hard! Stay at a distance where he can’t use poison and pelt him with them!”

The Mad Sage harried his men relentlessly.

“Whoa—so the Blood Sword lot only know how to wave blades and shout.”

Deflecting the storm of hidden weapons, Neung Je-gang quipped again.

The Mad Sage’s voice ceased. Indeed, he and the Three Killers—and the rest of Blood Sword Pavilion’s assassins—kept their distance, too afraid of poison to close in.

A few approached him and whispered together. They were the leaders of the assassin groups gathered that day.

“Ha-ha! Idiots.”

All the while parrying hidden weapons with his sword, Neung Je-gang used his free hand to collect the ones that ricocheted—those that suited his grip. He had only carried a single skinning knife before.

Now it was different. A mound of usable throwing blades lay before him; he no longer needed to gather more.

Throwing a knife cost little energy, unlike finger force. And if one calculated the incoming angles, one could even dodge.

But that was only if the blade could be seen.

Whssht—

“Gggrrk!”

With a gurgle instead of a scream, one of the leaders who had been conferring toppled over.

“Wha—what was that?”

Whssht—

“Keugh!”

Another died. Blood trickled from the center of his brow, yet what had killed him was not visible.

The assassins throwing hidden weapons sensed something amiss and began to flee farther away.

Swish—

“Gyaaa!”

Whssht—

“Ke-ek!”

“You think you can run?”

Neung Je-gang’s body floated lightly into the air.

“‘Finger wind’ has a limited effective range—but the blades I throw exist only at killing range. Know this! This is the peerless art of my master’s homeland, Joseon: Geumnyeong-bi.”

Muttering thus, he hurled the collected weapons one by one at the fleeing men.

By the time the blades were all spent and his feet touched earth again, the only ones left alive among those who had come to kill him were the Mad Sage of Blood Sword and four leaders.

“Uh-uh-uh… uh-uh-uh!”

One of them—he did not know which—reached toward Neung Je-gang, mouth agape, jaw dislocated, drool streaming.

“Ahh, you are too strong. And far too cruel.”

The Mad Sage spoke like a sigh.

“So a hundred swarm to kill me—that’s fine. But I kill to live, and that’s cruelty? Convenient logic, elder.”

“Why aren’t you killing us?”

“I’ve just run out of blades. I feigned weariness to collect them, but there weren’t any left to return to you. So I decided to give you something nicer.”

“What is it?”

“Poison.”

Whoosh—

Neung Je-gang suddenly closed the distance where they clustered. With a sweep of his left hand, he sent a tide of miasma over the Mad Sage.

He expected them to use their energy to evade, but surprisingly, they neither stopped him nor tried to dodge.

“Why don’t you run?”

“Run, and then what? Everyone’s dead. How well could we live among ourselves? Keh-keh-keh.”

They had already given up. With their men dead before they could even fight properly, only they remained; they had no will to act further.

In truth, they knew they could neither defeat Neung Je-gang nor escape his grasp.

“I see. Farewell. I’m sorry I can’t spare you—the part about there being no antidote was no lie. Not that I planned to spare you anyway…”

Neung Je-gang went to the carriage and checked on Gwan-an.

“Damn it—I had a bad feeling.”

Gwan-an had lost consciousness—poisoned.

Neung Je-gang lifted him into his arms and sprang up.

“I can’t make it to Jinhua—let’s hope So-yeon is still at Kuaiji Mountain.”

Like a streak of light, Neung Je-gang shot toward Kuaiji Mountain. After he left, those few survivors drew their last breaths, and Blood Sword Pavilion’s line was severed completely.