The Secret Of Sea Dragon Island. (2)

Kaaang-! Chwaaak-!

A middle-aged warrior swung his sword wildly, his long hair streaming behind him.

A sack of rice was still slung over his left shoulder.

More than ten men lay sprawled, felled by his blade.

Yet his expression was grim — the number of enemies around him wasn’t thinning; it only grew.

Still, his eyes showed not the slightest wavering, as if he refused to give up.

“Move!!”

Screech-! Pook-!!

Two masked warriors who had blocked his path fell once more.

But he couldn’t advance even a few steps; his way remained blocked.

For some reason, the masked warriors showed no fear in the face of death.

Clenching his teeth, he twisted his torso — a sword tip slipped in for a surprise strike from the side.

Paaang-!

He barely deflected the blade, and his unstable stance sent him staggering.

‘Damn it!’

Those in white masks weren’t overly threatening. The problem was the black-masked ones mixed among them.

Each of the black-masked men moved with such skill they could wield sword qi.

This time, two blades pierced in from left and right simultaneously.

The gritting middle-aged warrior used footwork and went into evasive maneuvers.

But his movements weren’t perfect.

Pook-!

A hole tore in the sack over his shoulder.

Rice began to spill out, grain by grain.

Even so, he did not set it down. He treated it as if it were more precious than his own life.

Meanwhile, watching from afar, Yu Jinsan sighed.

Then he beat his chest as if his insides would burst.

‘Drop the rice sack, you foolish fool!’

In a fight where running for his life would be enough, he still carried the sack,

and because of it his movements were restricted, exposing gaps in his defense.

It was utterly incomprehensible.

Clenching both fists, Yu Jinsan flinched as he watched.

‘But why am I rooting for that guy?’

He was a stranger, with no connection at all.

Yet Yu Jinsan hoped he would escape.

Perhaps the man’s desperation mirrored Yu Jinsan’s own past.

And one more thought flickered through his mind.

‘If I help him, I might get information.’

Unlike the masked warriors, the man’s face was intact; he seemed able to converse.

But Yu Jinsan couldn’t judge whether it was worth the risk.

Maybe if he’d come with his granddaughter it would be different. Alone, he couldn’t imagine facing hundreds.

Time passed and the surrounded middle-aged man grew weary; wounds, both large and small, mounted one by one.

A decision had to be made quickly — at last the red-masked man began to move.

Kwaaang-!!!

With a tremendous roar, the middle-aged man’s upper body lurched as if about to fall.

“Ugh!”

Those who had been surrounding him widened the distance and stepped back.

Only a mysterious master in a red mask now towered before him.

The man pushed his sword forward and muttered, “I’ve been waiting, Im Pyeong-il.”

“You set a trap thinking I’d come?”

The red mask nodded slowly.

“You won’t escape this time. Will you come quietly? If you come with us, we can make you stronger.”

It seemed they intended to capture the man called Im Pyeong-il.

At that moment, his eyes flashed through his disheveled hair.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’d rather die than do that.”

“Then we’ll have to draw blood by force.”

With those words the red-masked man launched the first attack on Im Pyeong-il.

His movement was on a different level from the other masked warriors.

The blade was upon him before he could even prepare to parry.

But Im Pyeong-il was no pushover; he reflexively swung his sword to defend with remarkable skill.

Kwaang-!

Under the heavy impact, Im Pyeong-il took a backward step.

Seizing the chance, the red mask’s flurry continued.

Ka-kang-! Kakakakang-!!

Two sword qi collided, scattering firefly-like sparks.

Of course Im Pyeong-il was being pushed back — he was exhausted.

Crucially, the strange movements of the red-masked warrior were the real problem.

Even Yu Jinsan, watching from concealment, was astonished.

‘I can’t believe it. How is that possible?’

The red-masked man’s body movement was clearly top-tier. Yet his attacks sometimes released power beyond normal limits.

Even if only briefly, his motions approached the Supreme realm.

It was something that should not happen under normal circumstances.

Each time, Im Pyeong-il barely defended with all his might, and it looked perilous.

Before long his stance collapsed.

That he had held out this long was almost a miracle.

Jjeo-eong-!!

“Ugh!”

From the clash, a large opening appeared in Im Pyeong-il’s upper guard.

His pupils trembled as he watched the incoming blade.

He had no confidence he could block it.

It was a life-or-death moment; his shoulder would soon be pierced.

But then something no one expected happened.

Whiriririk-!!

A spear streaked through the air from somewhere and wedged between the two.

Startled, the red mask twisted his sword and knocked the spear aside.

Kaang-!

Yu Jinsan snatched the spear as it ricocheted high into the sky.

Tuh-up-!

Retrieving the spear, he dove like a hawk toward the red mask.

Surprised by the sudden ambush, the red mask hurriedly raised his sword to defend.

Kwang-!!

“Guh!”

Dust exploded beneath his feet — the blow carried tremendous weight.

Startled by the opponent’s inner power, the eyes behind the mask flickered.

But Yu Jinsan’s attack wasn’t over.

He secured the spear with his left hand and thrust out his right fist.

It was the Hundred Step Divine Fist, its power refined by his granddaughter.

A fist-shaped gust struck squarely into the red mask’s abdomen.

Jjeo-eong-!!

“Ugh!”

The red-masked man deployed his protective device, but his feet slid across the ground as he was forced back.

All of this happened in the blink of an eye.

Im Pyeong-il, standing close by, seemed unable to grasp what had happened, hesitation clouding his face.

“If you want to live, follow this old man! Hurry!!”

Yu Jinsan’s shout snapped him to attention. Grabbing the spilling rice sack, he ran after him.

“Wh-who are you?”

A little kid who had appeared out of nowhere called himself “this old man” and helped — naturally bewildering him.

But Yu Jinsan had no time to explain; he had to clear a path.

The Dragon Slaying Spear swung, roaring with the might of the Yu Family Wind Slaying Spear.

Whirr-! Chwaaak-! Chwaaak-!

Each swing sent one or two masked warriors flying.

His movements were on a different plane from Im Pyeong-il’s.

Yu Jinsan felled every blocker like wind-blown leaves and pushed forward.

He intended to get out before any masters could converge.

Pressing on, he soon broke through the nearby encirclement.

With some breathing room, Yu Jinsan scolded the middle-aged man following him.

“What are you doing not following quickly? Why are you so slow?!”

The middle-aged man was bewildered, but he couldn’t waste this chance.

“Th-thank you.”

They had passed the immediate danger, but they couldn’t relax.

The entire island was hostile.

As they fled, horns blared everywhere.

Piiik-! Piiiiiik-!!

Like a school of fish surging on prey, masked warriors charged from all sides.

Just those visible numbered in the hundreds. How many more hid beyond them?

One piece of luck: Yu Jinsan and Im Pyeong-il’s light footwork outmatched them.

Once the encirclement was broken, numbers mattered little.

Only the red-masked warriors, quick with lightness skill, kept pursuing.

They weren’t safe yet, but catching a short breath, Yu Jinsan called over his shoulder.

“I heard them call you Im Pyeong-il. Is that right?”

“Yes, that’s my name. You know me?”

“I don’t. You resemble someone I know, that’s all.”

“Resemble who? Who are you talking about?”

Yu Jinsan glanced around and led him along a mountain path he’d scouted earlier.

“Do you know someone named Im Pyeong-su?”

At that, Im Pyeong-il, trailing behind, asked in a trembling voice, “My little brother’s name? How do you know it?”

“How could I not? We’ve eaten together, drank together, even boarded the same boat on the way here.”

At that admission, the wariness in Im Pyeong-il’s eyes toward Yu Jinsan eased somewhat.

“Do you know my little brother? Where is he now?”

Im Pyeong-il shifted to honorifics naturally; though the man looked like a child, his bearing and skill betrayed someone who’d sensed Age Revival.

“He returned inland. He’s doing very well, so worry about yourself.”

“That’s truly a relief. Truly…”

He seemed relieved his brother hadn’t come to this island. They could discuss details in a safe place.

“By the way, you seem to have an injury in your leg. Are you okay?”

“No problem for using my light footwork skill.”

Even so, the situation wasn’t good.

Red-masked warriors still pursued.

No matter how fast they ran, the gap wasn’t widening — it was in fact narrowing.

“Then at least drop that rice sack! How long do you plan to keep carrying it?!”

Half the rice had already spilled from the torn hole, yet he clutched it like a lifeline.

“Those with me haven’t eaten anything for days.”

“You mean there’s a resistance hiding on this island? Where?”

“……”

No answer came. Yu Jinsan understood why.

“You don’t trust me yet, it seems. In any case, hold on a little longer and we’ll be there.”

“This looks like a dead end. What on earth do you plan to do…?”

Three red-masked pursuers closed in.

At this speed they’d soon be caught.

“See that tallest hill up ahead?”

“Yes. Beyond it is probably a cliff.”

Im Pyeong-il seemed to know the island well, as if he’d spent a long time here.

“Right. We just need to get near there, so run as fast as you can.”

“You mean jump into the sea? Even if we did, there’s no way we’d lose them…”

His voice trailed off; his spine had gone cold.

The enemies had closed to striking distance.

Noticing that, Yu Jinsan slowed his lightness skill and moved to Im Pyeong-il’s rear.

The reason he had been fleeing wasn’t fear of the red masks — given time, he alone had the strength to fight.

He only avoided engagement because other masters might converge.

“I’ll hold them off — you go up first and bring them!”

“Huh? Wh-who…”

Yu Jinsan was about to shout something and then froze, eyes wide.

A dazzling flash glinted from the hill ahead.

Recognizing it, Yu Jinsan shuddered.

‘Buddha One Light Line?’

A single ray of light shot down and approached at incredible speed.

Swaaaang-!

In the blink of an eye it passed over Yu Jinsan’s shoulder.

It was so fast it might as well have been the speed of light.

Pooook-!

Looking back, the lead red-masked warrior had collapsed — his shoulder pierced, balance gone.

Yu Jinsan seized the moment.

The Dragon Slaying Spear slipped from his grasp and sliced through the air, striking precisely into the back of the fallen man.

Pook-!

It was a technique of his family’s thrown-spear art, the Flying Thorn Pierce Body (Bi Jin Chui Shen).

Unlike before, Yu Jinsan wore a triumphant expression.

With a casual gesture he tapped Im Pyeong-il’s waist and said, “That’s enough now — you rest a bit.”

“Yes? B-but who is that person…?”

Im Pyeong-il’s gaze fixed on a young girl descending the hill.

Her hair fluttered as she came down as if treading air.

Though she walked slowly, she closed the distance as if using a space-shrinking technique.

Im Pyeong-il went speechless at the eerie sight, goosebumps rising.

“Yin Monster. Remember that name — she will be called Supreme one in the future.”

Now only two enemies remained.

They looked flustered by their comrade’s ignoble defeat.

Yin Monster continued to advance on the hesitant foes.

“You’re bad guys, right?”

Yu Jinsan immediately nodded.

Although he had shown himself to the enemies, no one knew of Yu Seol’s existence — except those who had followed them.

The dead do not speak.

“They’re scum who should be killed. We must beat them down before they flee.”

Hiding allied strength from the enemy as much as possible is basic strategy.

Yu Seol seemed to understand that as well; she vaulted over their heads and cut off their escape route.