Read Novel Full Chapter 1258: Handle It Yourself. (3)
Chapter 1258: Handle It Yourself. (3)
“S-Sect leader.”
“......”
“What are we going to do?”
At the urgent, young voice, Geum Yang-Baek could not answer. He simply stared intently at the back of Chung Myung, who stood alone in front of Tiger Ghost Troops.
‘What the hell is he doing?’
No matter how he thought about it, he couldn’t understand it at all.
The enemies standing ahead were none other than the Ten Thousand People Clan. Even if they were just a single unit, with that force they could annihilate a small or medium sect in an instant.
And yet he had exposed himself helplessly before them. The enemy main force hadn’t even completely moved away yet.
“Sect leader!”
At the urgent voice again, Geum Yang-Baek snapped back to his senses.
“Wha—what was the original plan again?”
“When they give the signal over there, we rush to the shore at once and seize the ships.”
Right. That had been the original plan. But with the situation as it was, a fundamental question arose.
“Exactly what does that ‘signal’ mean?”
“......”
“Do we go out now?”
No one could answer that.
In a situation like this, the signal to use would be obvious. If someone shouts and runs forward, you match their move and rush out with them.
No need to worry ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) or think.
But the scene before their eyes was far from expected. Who could have imagined one person casually strolling out against that Ten Thousand People Clan unit?
“W-well, for now...”
One of the elders hesitated and spoke with an uneasy look on his face.
“Maybe... we should watch a little longer? Not all the Heavenly Friends Alliance people have shown themselves yet.”
Geum Yang-Baek gave no answer and just watched Chung Myung.
‘Who on earth is he...?’
It was absurd, and terrifying.
That irresponsible man was utterly absurd, and at the same time he was terrified that a single small action might ruin the whole plan.
“But...”
“Hm?”
“...Why are they acting like that?”
At those words, Geum Yang-Baek narrowed his eyes and watched the situation ahead.
‘Now that I think about it...’
Mount Hua’s Sword Saint, Chung Myung approached so leisurely that he could have been yawning. So they must have clearly seen him approaching.
The strange part began at this point.
The Ten Thousand People Clan were bloodthirsty killers—the notorious fiends of Guangdong, rumored to be the roughest among the Evil Sect.
So the Ten Thousand People Clan that Geum Yang-Baek knew wouldn’t just stand and watch someone approach them with hostility. Normally they would have leapt and torn him apart already.
But...
‘Why aren’t they moving?’
Geum Yang-Baek couldn’t understand. No matter how wide he opened his eyes, he couldn’t make sense of it.
What that small youth meant to them in the eyes of the Ten Thousand People Clan.
Because they didn’t know what the name Mount Hua’s Sword Saint meant to them.
⁂ ⁂ ⁂
“...Mount Hua’s Sword Saint.”
The leader of Tiger Ghost Troops, the Lone Sword Ghost, Beom Chung, hardened his face.
‘Why is he here...?’
Tiger Ghost Troops of the Ten Thousand People Clan.
Merely having the Ten Thousand People Clan attached to their name was enough for Tiger Ghost Troops to strike fear across the land.
Powerless commoners naturally feared them like grim reapers, and even many warriors with some strength would quietly bow their heads before the name Ten Thousand People Clan.
Beom Chung, the Lone Sword Ghost, was confident: the name Tiger Ghost Troops existed to inspire fear in people, not to fear anything itself.
But at that moment, Beom Chung painfully felt that everything in the world was relative.
Who was the Mount Hua’s Sword Saint?
He was the one who had fought Jang Ilso, the Four Sects Alliance lord, head-on at the Black Dragon Camp and had broken through the Pirates by force—a figure of mythic deeds.
Before that he had defeated the Ten Thousand People Clan’s rival squads of equal rank and turned the forces that attacked Mount Hua into restless spirits, stamping a rare defeat on the Ten Thousand People Clan.
And above all...
‘He who joined hands with the Alliance Lord to defeat the Demonic Cult.’
The legendary might he displayed in Hangzhou is still talked about by those who witnessed that hellish battle.
Those who went to Hangzhou with Jang Ilso did so out of such loyalty that they would throw themselves into hellfire for him—people who venerated Jang Ilso to the point of blind faith.
Someone who could make such people say he was not a whit inferior to Alliance Lord—such a person now stood before them.
Blood chilled, and every hair on his body bristled.
Beom Chung, who had never felt fear even facing enemies, could not remain calm in front of the black robe and the crimson plum blossom emblem.
To the Evil Sect, that garb was like the attire of the grim reaper.
Ironically, Beom Chung felt deeply here what powerless commoners must feel when they saw them.
‘What should I do?’
Cold sweat soaked his hands.
The shore, which had been noisy and chaotic moments before, fell into a deathly quiet. All that could be heard was the sound of the waves.
It meant even Tiger Ghost Troops’ members were holding their breath. The ones who normally lunged like starving jackals were cowering and trembling like rabbits before a tiger.
But Beom Chung did not feel even a shred of anger or the urge to scold them. As the leader, he himself was bewildered by the situation—who could he blame?
‘The signal...’
Swallowing dryly, he was about to turn his head involuntarily when he flinched. He bit his lip until it bled.
‘What am I doing right now?’
Right now, the enemy was alone.
Of course, he didn’t know how many others might be hiding behind him, but for now only the Mount Hua’s Sword Saint had revealed himself before them.
But what could he possibly be so afraid of that he was looking for a flare to signal the main force? The leader of Tiger Ghost Troops of the Ten Thousand People Clan, was he really thinking of calling for backup because he couldn’t handle a single person?
This was an unbearable shame for Beom Chung, who had been a fearsome warrior in Guangdong and proud as the Tiger Ghost Troops leader personally appointed by Jang Ilso.
“Mount Hua’s Sword Saint.”
At the cracked voice that escaped him, Chung Myung brightened.
“Oh?”
A sly smile curved at the corner of his mouth.
“Seems I’ve become quite famous. You recognized me without an explanation.”
“......”
“Should I be glad? Until now I’d been bothered to explain things even to small fry.”
“...Why are you here?”
Chung Myung shrugged.
“Well, is there any place I can’t go—I spot the Evil Sect ones frequently?”
“......”
“Anyway, that’s not the important thing right now.”
Chung Myung glanced back over his shoulder.
At that moment Beom Chung’s body involuntarily twitched.
An enemy standing so close turned his head in front of him? It was an insult beyond words. Though Beom Chung gripped his sword hilt tightly in barely restrained rage, he could not bring himself to draw the blade—he only gripped it hard.
“Hmm.”
Chung Myung turned his head back and let out a low hum.
“We can’t have too much distance between us.”
As Chung Myung muttered and lifted his gaze, Beom Chung saw—
Chung Myung’s eyes, chilling to the spine.
Maybe it was that look. Or perhaps the glimpse of Chung Myung’s white teeth between his twisted lips was simply too chilling in that instant.
Whatever the reason, Beom Chung involuntarily took a step back. And that produced a result entirely contrary to his intent.
Tiger Ghost Troops’ combat signal was always the same. The leader stepping back was the signal to strike the enemy; anytime, anywhere.
The reason this action could be a signal was simple: Tiger Ghost Troops never retreated before an enemy. Especially for the leader to be forced back by momentum was unthinkable to them.
One of those who saw their leader retreat, as if it were natural, charged at Chung Myung. It was the product of relentless training—his body moved before his mind assessed the situation.
“No—”
Only then did Beom Chung realize what he had done. But it was already too late to stop the one who was charging with full force.
“Dieeeeee!”
With a ripping shout, the raised blade came down with terrible force toward the blue Southern Island sky.
And at that moment—
Fwoooosh!
A flash of sword light, quicker than island lightning, sliced straight through the wrist holding the blade.
Shick.
“Guh...”
A terrible sound and a low groan echoed. The sword light, recovered even faster than when it struck out, slashed again. It cut the other remaining wrist cleanly.
Shick!
The blade slipped from the weakened grip. Before it could fly into the air, successive sword lights began to tear into the charge’s body.
Shick! Shick! Shick! Shick!
“Guh... Gyaaaaaaaah!”
A horrific scream shattered the quiet that had fallen over the shore.
“Aaaaaaah!”
The sword tore through skin and twisted muscle. Before an agony beyond words, all one could do was scream.
In an instant the man’s tendons snapped and he crumpled to the ground. Whether from pain or disbelief at what had happened, his whole body trembled violently.
Thud.
And at that moment, Chung Myung’s Dark Fragrant Plum Blossom Sword touched the kneeling man’s throat.
Gazing down at the man with utterly cold eyes, Chung Myung twisted his lips in something like a smile and said softly.
“Not enough.”
Shick!
Fwoooosh!
The man’s throat split with a wet sound and a fountain of hot blood spurted out. Dark crimson stained the white sand.
Thud.
The man’s body collapsed limp.
Chung Myung glanced indifferently at the corpse, then slowly shifted his gaze toward Tiger Ghost Troops, who watched him almost stunned.
“...That won’t get through.”
Chung Myung bared his teeth and spoke sharply. The murderous aura that flowed from him covered Tiger Ghost Troops like a north wind and winter snow.
“Scream louder. Maybe then you’ll live, who knows?”
In an instant a chilling light flashed in Chung Myung’s eyes. He then lunged toward Tiger Ghost Troops at a terrifying speed, piercing through their ranks in a single bound.
Chung Myung’s Dark Fragrant Plum Blossom Sword traced an arc like the sun high in the sky.