A Long Blood Battle, a Blood Battle!
Moyong Rin could not even rest for a full gak (quarter hour). She rose after only half of one.
"It's better if we go now. As a strategist, falling behind like this without grasping the situation of the battlefield… it keeps making me feel pathetic."
Pyeong-u Jong nodded in agreement.
"Yes. The White Tiger Troop, who were supposed to rest here, already went ahead… so there's no meaning left. And the Cheongseong Sect members have gone as well."
Hwa Gayeon too made a stifled face and joined in.
"Yes. Let's go quickly. I can't even tell if this was supposed to be rest or punishment."
The three told Tang Cheolhyeon to look after the Tang Sect disciples who would follow behind, and were about to depart. But then all four of them turned to look back at the path they had come.
A shadowy figure was rushing through the darkness with terrifying speed. The approach was so fast it stole their words.
Even the Vagabond King, who had charged out first, had not displayed such absurd speed.
Sitting on a rock, Tang Cheolhyeon too held his breath in shock.
By the time the four could even ask themselves who it was, the figure had already closed the distance. Hwa Gayeon, startled by the sudden nearness, instinctively stumbled backward.
Perhaps embarrassed, she was the one to break the silence.
"Pyeong-u! Why are you here?"
Even as she spoke, Pyeong-u appeared before them. Wiping the sweat-soaked face with his sleeve, he asked:
"Why are you all still here?"
Moyong Rin gaped, swallowing hard before stammering:
"W-what kind of lightness skill is that…?"
But Pyeong-u cut her off, glancing toward the sky reddened by flames.
He knew something had fractured in the original plan. Urgency filled him.
"The others—where are they?"
Pyeong-u Jong pointed ahead.
"Of course, they've gone there. But Pyeong-u—"
Before his words could finish—
Woooosh!
A gale buffeted them, the air rippling with force. It was the shockwave of Pyeong-u's departure.
All four turned their heads in unison, staring after him as he vanished in an instant.
Everyone froze in place, dumbstruck.
Hwa Gayeon shook her head slowly.
"Can… can a person really be that fast? When I saw him at Tang Sect, it was only short bursts, so I thought maybe… but this? I can't even speak."
Pyeong-u Jong let out a laugh of disbelief, then sighed.
"Even the Shadowless Wanderer, said to be the fastest in the world, wouldn't match that. Hah… truly, the world is vast. But is that boy really just the Young Lord's bodyguard? He is far too great a man to waste as a mere escort."
He had half-doubted that Pyeong-u was a peak master. But recalling that display of footwork—perhaps it truly was so.
A peak master in the prime of youth.
It was absurd, leaving only a bitter smile. He had thought he had lived diligently, but why were so many monsters appearing around him these days?
Moyong Rin, too, seemed to think the same, shaking her head over and over.
Hwa Gayeon spoke again.
"Yes. He seemed quite close to Young Master Cheon."
"Really? Ha ha ha… Young Master Cheon truly is blessed with fortune in people."
"Well… they say it was Young Master Cheon who recognized Pyeong-u."
"Hm? What do you mean?"
"I only heard it secondhand, so I'm not sure, but… Pyeong-u was hiding his ability. No one knew. Yet Young Master Cheon saw through it."
Moyong Rin and Pyeong-u Jong blinked, bewildered.
A peak master hiding his skill, discovered by an ordinary man? How could that make sense?
Tang Cheolhyeon, who had been silent, finally spoke.
"You lot… aren't you going?"
The three finally came to their senses and moved on. Left behind, Tang Cheolhyeon rubbed his lips with a finger, lost in thought.
If the battle had not ended by the time he arrived with the Tang Sect disciples, how should he fight most effectively?
Perhaps the enemy already had an inkling of the true nature of the Tang Sect's Poison Arts.
Another thought flickered.
"Hm. If we win over Young Master Cheon, do we also gain Pyeong-u?"
If he could bring both of them into the Tang Sect, he would have no regrets even if he died. The sect's future would be bright indeed.
"Cheon Ryuyeong with Hyemi… then who with Pyeong-u?"
His thoughts deepened.
Elder Hwangmagek cut in.
"Scheme or no scheme, he's just a mad dog charging at all of us together. We just need to crush him at once, don't we?"
Many of them felt their pride stung by Bang Yacheol's provocation.
Even if he was the Vagabond King, a peak master, considering who they were, such insolence was unthinkable.
Of course, it was likely because the Vagabond King did not fully know their identities—but that did not cool their anger.
At that moment, Sa Hyeolgang stepped forward.
"Vagabond King! It's been a long time!"
"You know me?"
"Twenty years ago, on Daeseolsan, I fought you for half a sijin. Have you already forgotten?"
"I don't remember the ones who lost to me."
"I did not lose!"
"If I don't remember you, then you lost."
Bang Yacheol and Sa Hyeolgang clashed.
Kwaaaang!
Bakdo and curved saber met—not with the clang of steel, but with a thunderous boom.
It showed just how much internal power had been poured into their first strike.
"Khrrr…"
A groan leaked from the corners of Sa Hyeolgang's clenched mouth. His body skidded back nearly five steps.
The Demonic leaders and thirty masters widened their eyes.
It meant Palace Lord Sa Hyeolgang had been forced back in sheer power by the Vagabond King. Among their leadership, the only one with deeper inner strength than Sa Hyeolgang was the Blood Priest himself.
Shhhk!
The bakdo tore through the air with a fierce ripping sound.
But this time, its direction was not Sa Hyeolgang—it was Ma Bul.
Fwaaa!
From the bakdo burst streams of blue saber energy, splitting into more than ten streaks, flooding toward Ma Bul.
"Y-you lunatic!"
Ma Bul, startled, thrust both hands out. Red light burst from his palms, colliding with the saber energy.
Kwooom!
Another earth-shaking explosion!
But the rush was so sudden that Ma Bul's arms went numb, and he stumbled back two steps.
Yet Bang Yacheol did not even bother checking the result. He swung his bakdo again, sending another torrent of blue qi.
This time, it was aimed at Elder Monghyeolbi.
"Wha—!"
Never had Monghyeolbi imagined the Vagabond King would attack him.
A duel between peak masters—
Even focusing on one opponent, the slightest slip could mean death. Yet the Vagabond King was simultaneously targeting Sa Hyeolgang, Ma Bul, and now himself.
To think he would attack another in this situation—he had not even considered it. Much less himself as the target.
In panic, he drew his sword and slashed at the incoming qi. But carelessness came at a price. Two streams pierced his side and thigh.
Pupup!
"Ghhk!"
Monghyeolbi's face flushed red—not from pain, but from shame.
And not only him—Sa Hyeolgang and Ma Bul felt the same.
The Vagabond King had just made fools of all three.
His behavior was so outrageous, so bizarre, that they had hesitated in disbelief—only to be made into clowns in an instant.
Even the Blood Priest laughed incredulously.
"Ha ha ha… so the Vagabond King really is insane?"
Such reckless expenditure of energy could bring him no benefit.
No—it was a ploy, plain as day. A ploy to stall, even briefly, the reinforcements meant for Kunlun and the Dokgo Clan.
The problem was: even knowing that, they could not simply ignore it and pass by.
There was one absolute truth shared by both orthodox and demonic martial worlds alike:
The pride of a warrior.
Especially for masters, pride was more important than life itself. And the Vagabond King had just trampled on theirs.
Bang Yacheol grinned wickedly.
"I told you already. You're all my prey."
Noeakcheon sighed and spoke to the leaders.
"There's no helping it. We'll have to finish off the Vagabond King first."
Then he gave orders to the thirty masters.
"You proceed as planned!"
"At your command!"
The thirty masters at last charged toward Kunlun and the Dokgo Clan.
Bang Yacheol knew he couldn't stop them.
If he swung at them now, the six leaders glaring at him like they would cut him to pieces would tear him apart in an instant.
From here on, he had to focus.
Not offense—defense. Until reinforcements arrived.
Drip.
Sweat ran down the side of his face.
His breathing grew slightly quicker.
One in front, one on each side.
Three in all—each one presumed to be a peak master—charging at him simultaneously.
Such a thing was rare in the world of masters with pride. But paradoxically, it was proof of just how deeply he had wounded their pride.
Their intent was clear: to finish him in a single strike.
Their weapons trembled with inner strength, killing intent swelling around them.
Bang Yacheol inhaled and smiled.
"At last… a fight worth having."
"You arrogant bastard!"
From the front, the Blood Priest shouted back, slashing his sword.
Shhhk!
A gust of sword-wind swept over Bang Yacheol.
Papapapat!
His clothes and skin split in shallow cuts as though slashed by blades. Only superficial wounds.
So Bang Yacheol ignored it.
The true attack came now.
A torrent of sword qi descended upon him—
At the same time, palm force and blades crashed in from both sides.
Three peak masters, focusing all at once.
It was too late to evade.
If he retreated, their assault would only grow fiercer, and he'd be crushed before striking back even once.
"Haaaaah!"
With a roar, Bang Yacheol swung his bakdo furiously.
Papapapapapap!
The blade moved at blinding speed. So fast its form vanished, leaving only afterimages.
From those blazing strokes, saber energy spread around him, forming a kind of shield.
A Saber Curtain.
Pwooooom!
Huge detonations thundered from front and sides.
Blood surged into his throat, but Bang Yacheol swallowed it down.
Blocked.
But then, three more behind leapt into the air.
Bang Yacheol clicked his tongue.
He had provoked them, yes—but he had not thought they would so thoroughly, so ruthlessly, drive him into a corner.
"Three peak masters, one after another—what is this?"
At that moment, a voice came from behind him.
"I'll take the one on the left."
"…!"
Pyeong-u had outstripped even the White Tiger Troop and arrived first. His sudden, lightning-like appearance shook not only the Vagabond King but also the six leaders to their core.