Chapter 70: Strong Enough to Walk Alone (2)

No one spoke. No one could.

They could not believe the scene that had unfolded before their eyes. No—they did not want to believe it. But they had to, for it had happened right before them.

"Mad…"

Someone began to say, then quickly fell silent. But no one blamed him. Though none spoke, every person present shared the same sentiment.

The chief disciple of the Tongtong Sect, a member of the Nine Dragons—lay in wretched ruin at their feet.

From the moment the fight began to the point where Nam Hak was utterly broken, the time that had elapsed was nothing but the blink of an eye.

In that brief span, heaven and earth had been overturned.

At least, that was how it felt to everyone present.

*Gulp!*

Someone swallowed dryly.

"Senior Brother!"

"Are you alright?"

The Tongtong Sect martial artists, having finally recovered their senses, rushed forward to support Nam Hak where he lay.

"How dare you! To harm our Senior Brother—"

"We will not forgive this!"

The Tongtong Sect martial artists glared at Dam Ho with burning hostility.

Dam Ho regarded them without a flicker of change on his face. He had never expected the Tongtong Sect martial artists to stand by quietly.

Having once belonged to the Mount Hua Sect, Dam Ho understood better than anyone the pride bordering on arrogance that the Nine Great Sects possessed.

They would not forgive anything that threatened their stronghold. Not even if it was a fellow member of the Nine Great Sects.

The Nine Great Sects maintained their current peace because their power was roughly equal. Had any one faction been overwhelmingly superior, the martial world's peace could never have been sustained.

How this would end, even Dam Ho could not say.

Though he did not know how events had reached this point, Dam Ho intended to see it through to the end—even if that end was his own death.

For the first time, emotion flickered in Dam Ho's eyes.

It was called madness.

"Guh!"

The Tongtong Sect martial artists, whose faces had gone deathly pale upon encountering Dam Ho's madness and killing intent, showed no sign of retreating.

It was then.

"All of you, stop."

A weak voice halted the Tongtong Sect martial artists. It was none other than Nam Hak.

"Senior Brother!"

"Are you alright?"

The Tongtong Sect martial artists hurriedly supported Nam Hak.

Nam Hak coughed in their arms. Blood flecked the air.

"Senior Brother?"

"I… am fine."

Nam Hak forced the words out.

Had the Full Thunder Heart Technique not protected his vitals in that final moment, his heart meridian would have ruptured and he would have died instantly.

But he had survived—barely—and he clung desperately to his fading consciousness. There were still things he had to do.

He struggled to his feet without assistance. He refused their help. That was his final shred of pride.

Having risen under his own power, Nam Hak glared at Dam Ho.

"I have… lost. As promised, no one present will take issue with your actions."

"…?"

"Though I am consumed by the desire to win, I am no coward. So do not any of you make a coward of me."

The last words were directed at the Tongtong Sect martial artists. The disciples, fighting back tears, nodded at their Great Senior Brother's command.

"Yes, Senior Brother!"

Nam Hak's gaze returned to Dam Ho.

Dam Ho stood motionless, watching Nam Hak. The entirely black figure evoked the image of a demon.

"I have lost, but the Tongtong Sect has not. On the day I complete Full Thunder, I will challenge you again. Will you accept my challenge?"

"Any time!"

Dam Ho considered Nam Hak a man. Though arrogant and biased, he was a man who took responsibility for his own words.

That was why Dam Ho had spared his life.

Nam Hak offered Dam Ho a fist-and-palm salute.

"Thank you."

"…?"

"May I ask your name now? What is your name?"

"Dam Ho! My name is Dam Ho."

"I will engrave your name deep into my bones. Dam Ho."

Dam Ho nodded slightly.

Nam Hak smiled faintly, then collapsed. He had lost consciousness.

"Senior Brother!"

The Tongtong Sect martial artists hurriedly caught his falling body.

Dam Ho turned away, as though there was nothing more to see. Though brief, he had limped slightly.

In that moment, one of the martial artists murmured:

"The martial artist who walks with a limp—the one who destroyed Seocheon Mountain Villa also had a limp… Could it be the Blood Star of Xinjiang?"

"Good heavens! The Blood Star of Xinjiang? Is the legend from beyond the seas really true?"

The faces of the onlookers went white.

The Blood Star of Xinjiang had descended upon the Central Plains. The bloody star was now dyeing even the Central Plains in crimson.

Dam Ho turned away. But not one person moved to stop him. Dam Ho alone had overwhelmed them all.

Lee Sin-pung's jaw muscles twitched. He wanted to say something to Dam Ho, but he did not dare.

*'Where did such a man come from…'*

His dignity lay in ruins. The only consolation was that the Tongtong Sect's Nam Hak had suffered the same indignity.

"Hyung!"

Bang Jin-bo caught up to Dam Ho.

The martial artists watched the two departing figures in a daze.

In the history of the Central Plains, had any martial artist ever made such a dramatic entrance? There had not been one.

Dam Ho, who had appeared one day in Gansu Province and unleashed a rain of blood, vanished as suddenly as he had arrived.

***

The Yangtze was commonly called the lifeblood of the Central Plains. Originating from the vast highlands of Qinghai, this enormous river cut across the Central Plains, nurturing countless lives and cultures along its banks.

Too wide and too deep to be called a mere river, the Yangtze was traversed by large vessels. Among them were ships capable of carrying several hundred passengers—vessels known as the Cloud-Horse River Crossing Ships.

True to their name, these enormous ships, capable of carrying horses and people alike, cut through the Yangtze's rough currents with ease.

On the deck of a Cloud-Horse River Crossing Ship, a great number of people were seated. Most were merchants traveling upstream and downstream, though martial artists were also visible.

The ship was entering a dock in the northern reaches of Hubei Province. Quite a crowd awaited at the dock to board.

At last, the Cloud-Horse River Crossing Ship came to anchor, and a large gangplank was lowered.

"Passengers disembark first. Everyone, please maintain order."

A middle-aged boatswain called out in a loud voice.

Many followed the boatswain's direction and stepped onto the dock. First the people disembarked, followed by the horses and carts.

Though dozens of people and horses had left at once, the vacant spaces were quickly filled. Those who had been waiting at the dock boarded in large numbers.

"Here, don't push."

"A spot has opened up here."

The deck was instantly filled with the clamor of voices. People gathered in small groups according to their acquaintances, ranging from pairs to groups of several dozen.

Among them, the largest gathering was on the deck near the stern. Nearly thirty people in uniform stood assembled there.

One of them held a substantial flag.

Seondo Escort Agency.

A mid-sized escort agency based in Seondo County, Hubei Province. It was a promising agency in Hubei Province, with nearly a hundred escort guards under its command.

Of the hundred-odd escort guards, more than half—over fifty—had been mobilized for this mission, which involved transporting a significant escort cargo. But their faces showed no sign of tension.

This was Hubei Province.

It was the territory where the Wudang Sect—one of the Nine Great sects—held firm ground, and where the Zhuge Family—one of the Five Great Families—had established its base. Moreover, countless righteous sects had staked their claims here. Bandits who targeted escort cargo could not exist, or if they did, the escort guards possessed the confidence to repel them with ease.

Kim Jong-gyeong was the chief escort guard leading this shipment. Though he stood only five chi tall, his shoulders were broad and his eyes blazing with intensity. Those who saw him for the first time often felt intimidated by his striking presence.

Beyond his appearance, Kim Jong-gyeong was a formidable martial artist. Though nominally the second-in-command below the agency head, his martial arts surpassed those of the agency head, Jeung Il-cheong.

With the aging agency head, Jeung Il-cheong, now past his prime, it was Kim Jong-gyeong who effectively led the Seondo Escort Agency. The escort guards' trust in him was correspondingly deep.

Kim Jong-gyeong addressed his subordinates.

"Do not let your guard down simply because you're aboard the Cloud-Horse River Crossing Ship. You never know what might happen."

"Worry not, Chief Escort. With our eyes wide open like this, what could possibly happen?"

"Indeed."

At their words, Kim Jong-gyeong smiled faintly.

"I know. Still, one must always be prepared."

"Of course."

"Leave the vigilance to us, and please rest for a while, Chief Escort."

"Very well!"

Though he said this, Kim Jong-gyeong did not relax his watchfulness. Twenty years of ingrained habit did not vanish so easily.

The escort guards knew of Kim Jong-gyeong's near-paranoid nature and did not press further. Instead, they fell into conversation among themselves.

"In five more days we'll reach Dongting Lake, won't we? Time flies."

"Indeed. Still, the Cloud-Horse River Crossing Ship is comfortable. If only every escort job were like this, we'd have no regrets."

"As if that were possible."

"Who doesn't know that? I'm just saying what I'm thinking. Well, there's no harm in dreaming."

"That's true."

Smiles touched the escort guards' lips.

They were on their way back from as far as Sichuan Province. The destination had been the Tang Clan, a prestigious family of Sichuan.

They had believed their mission would end upon delivering the cargo to the Tang Clan. But unexpectedly, the Tang Clan had offered to transport the cargo onward to Hunan Province.

For Kim Jong-gyeong, there was no reason to refuse. Yueyang, in Hunan Province—the cargo's destination—was not far from Seondo, the base of the Seondo Escort Agency.

"By the way, have you heard the rumors coming out of Gansu Province?"

"What rumors?"

"You really are out of the loop. To not have heard such enormous news."

"What news?"

The one who raised the subject was Jang Sam, known within the Seondo Escort Agency as a man well-informed on all matters. He enjoyed mixing with others even during escort duties and was consequently well-versed in the latest rumors.

Everyone looked at Jang Sam with expectant expressions. Clearly pleased by their attention, Jang Sam wore a self-important look as he began.

"There's been a great bloodbath in Gansu Province."

"What do you mean? A bloodbath?"

"Everyone knows Hongam Mountain Villa, right? In northern Gansu Province, isn't it the largest sect?"

"Of course."

"Not long ago, a birthday celebration was held for Lee Sin-pung, the master of Hongam Mountain Villa. But it was devastated by a single man."

"You don't say?"

"It's true! Because of that, Gansu Province is in an uproar. The one who provoked him first was Jwa Sang-cheon, the first disciple of the Hyunhyeon Sect—and he was reduced to half-paralysis. And that's not all. Jang Hak-gyeong of the Dahwa Trading Company, a renowned firm in Gansu Province, Jo Gyeong-ui—the Sect Leader of Unyang Martial Academy—and Mo Jung-hyeon all lost their lives at his hand."

"Is that really true?"

When the listeners showed interest, Jang Sam enthusiastically recounted the rumors circulating in Gansu Province. When many wore skeptical expressions, Jang Sam thumped his chest in exasperation.

"It's the absolute truth. Before entering the Central Plains, he single-handedly annihilated Seocheon Mountain Villa in Xinjiang. That is how he earned the epithet Blood Star of Xinjiang."

"Hah! That's hard to believe."

"He was so powerful that even Nam Hak—the chief disciple of the Tongtong Sect and a member of the Nine Dragons—was brought to his knees. They say he is a killer with no blood or tears, who never forgives what offends his eyes."

"What? And the Tongtong Sect just let one of their Nine Dragons be struck down?"

"Nam Hak himself swore on his name that the Tongtong Sect would not intervene. So the Tongtong Sect can't easily do anything about it—they're just seething inside."

"If what you say is true, then a major figure has appeared in the Central Plains. Tell us more."

Encouraged by their interest, Jang Sam continued his tale with relish.

"But here's something strange—there's a rumor that the Blood Star of Xinjiang is actually a cripple."

"That doesn't make sense at all. A martial artist of that caliber being a cripple?"

"Ah, but it's true. I…"

Kim Jong-gyeong let Jang Sam's words drift past one ear as he scanned the deck. He was not without curiosity about the Blood Star of Xinjiang, but the safety of the escort cargo took precedence.

"Hmm?"

His eye caught a peculiar combination of men.

A man in a black robe with an expressionless face, and a stout boy who gazed around with a perpetual smile, radiating an inexplicable warmth.

The Shadow Bureau took the form of a cluster of farmhouses, with most of its members actually engaged in farming. Because of this, at first glance, it appeared to be nothing more than an unremarkable rural village.

It was likely that ordinary people wouldn’t even know that the Shadow Bureau was located here.

However, with a little attention, one could see that the Shadow Bureau was surprisingly difficult to infiltrate.

The only path into the village was a single route between the mountains on either side, and even if one tried to scale the mountains, the visible ridges in front were all terraced fields. During the day, someone was always working in the fields, allowing for constant surveillance of the outside.

Even if someone managed to cross the mountains at night to enter, the farmhouses were strategically positioned at precise intervals on the backside of the mountain.

Each farmhouse served as a kind of outpost.

Because of this, even Jin Ja-gang couldn’t approach easily and had to observe the situation from a great distance.

If one had the ability, entering through the front would be the best option.

But could Jin Ja-gang defeat the experts of the Shadow Bureau head-on?

Against Gu Sang-wol, even after hitting him with a Joint-Breaking Needle, Jin Ja-gang couldn’t subdue him easily and instead sustained severe injuries himself. As a result, he had no choice but to give up on eliminating the dispatched team from Poison Valley.

Thanks to a remarkably enhanced recovery ability, his wounds had already healed, but the experience had etched into his bones the realization that the experts of the Shadow Bureau were far stronger than the warriors of the Stone Forest Gang.

Thus, Jin Ja-gang decided to circle the Shadow Bureau from as far away as possible, considering every usable aspect of the environment to meticulously devise a plan.

After several days of deliberation over how to attack the Shadow Bureau, Jin Ja-gang witnessed something intriguing in a nearby village.

He saw farmers harvesting buckwheat and making Shaobing, a type of flatbread, to eat.

Shaobing is a round cake made by grinding buckwheat into flour, mixing it with wheat or glutinous rice flour, and baking it over a fire.

While eating the Shaobing he was offered, Jin Ja-gang was able to hear stories about the local area.

In this region, there was a tradition of making a large Shaobing to eat when harvesting the first buckwheat of the season.

Jin Ja-gang immediately returned to Fumin, where the Shadow Bureau was located.

…As expected! He saw buckwheat planted in the terraced fields on the mountain slopes.

The warriors of the Shadow Bureau, disguised as farmers, were harvesting the buckwheat, bundling it into sheaves, and drying it in the sun.

Jin Ja-gang’s eyes lit up.

If they were drying buckwheat now, within a few days-at least within a few days-the Shadow Bureau would also thresh the buckwheat and make Shaobing with it!

***

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Translated by Nine Heavens!

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***

‘I need to find something useful in the surroundings.’

While wandering the nearby mountains, Jin Ja-gang discovered a hill covered with morning glories.

As autumn approached, the flowers had already withered, leaving only dried fruits clinging to the vines.

Jin Ja-gang picked the morning glory fruits and extracted the seeds inside.

Morning glory seeds, known as Qian Niu Zi, are used as a medicinal herb. They have a purgative effect, helping to expel toxins, and are effective for conditions like edema and lower back pain.

However, consuming them in large quantities can cause diarrhea, bloody urine, and even hallucinations. In severe cases, it can lead to death.

Of course, eating just a few seeds wouldn’t cause such effects. But extracting the toxic essence from a large quantity of seeds changes the story entirely.

Jin Ja-gang poured the collected Qian Niu Zi into his mouth.

Since he had nearly depleted the poison of cinnabar, he intended to use the poison of Qian Niu Zi this time.

Crunch, crunch.

Jin Ja-gang continued to chew the Qian Niu Zi while harvesting more seeds.

Based on the information he had gathered, the number of people at the Shadow Bureau’s main base was approximately fifty.

‘Fifty people…’

Looking at the widely distributed morning glory hill, Jin Ja-gang calculated the quantity.

He estimated that consuming about a mal (a traditional Korean unit of measure, roughly 18 liters) of Qian Niu Zi would be enough to extract poison capable of killing fifty people.

In any case, with this many morning glories, the quantity was more than sufficient.

It would be enough to kill hundreds and still have some left over.

* * *

As evening fell, the warriors of the Shadow Bureau who had been working in the fields returned to their quarters.

Jin Ja-gang approached the fields and wandered through the buckwheat patches.

Although this mountain with its terraced fields defensively surrounded the Shadow Bureau, it also made it difficult for those inside to monitor the outside.

…The tall buckwheat plants and the bundles of straw tied up here and there provided more than enough cover for Jin Ja-gang.

Jin Ja-gang roamed the buckwheat fields, checking for any opportunities to exploit.

Originally, he had considered sprinkling poison on the buckwheat grains, but upon reflection, he realized it would be pointless.

When processing buckwheat grains into flour, they are washed in water, ground with a millstone, and sieved to remove the husks. Applying poison to the husks would have little effect.

Jin Ja-gang explored the buckwheat fields a bit longer before cautiously exiting the area.

Crunch, crunch.

Even as he did so, Jin Ja-gang continued to chew on Qian Niu Zi.

* * *

After observing the cluster of Shadow Bureau houses nestled on the shaded side of the mountain slope from a distance, Jin Ja-gang finally made his decision.

Despite watching for several days, no vulnerabilities were apparent.

If that was the case, then he would have to enter the tiger’s den himself!

There was no point in waiting longer; it would be better not to miss the timing of the buckwheat harvest.

Perhaps… this would be the most dangerous plan Jin Ja-gang had ever undertaken.

“Phew.”

Jin Ja-gang let out a short sigh and began devising a method to confront the experts.

When facing the experts of Iron Umbrella Sect or Shadow Bureau, without hidden weapons and poison powder, he wouldn’t have been able to handle them so easily.

To fight martial arts experts, Jin Ja-gang also needed tools suited to the task.

‘If I had hidden weapons…’

But with no connections or network, there was no way Jin Ja-gang could find a craftsman to make such hidden weapons for him, nor could he acquire them immediately.

‘Is this the only thing I can use right now?’

Jin Ja-gang held up a sharp needle about a hand-span in length.

It was a few Joint-Breaking Needles he had taken from the hidden mechanisms in Iron Umbrella Sect’s iron umbrellas.

He drew a wisp of energy through his Baihui acupoint, converted it into internal power, and channeled it to his hand. Then, he finely adjusted it so the internal power flowed through his wrist, fingers, and into the Joint-Breaking Needle.

It was a hidden weapon technique he had learned in the mine shaft from the Bosam Sect.

Flying Thread Twelve Branches.

…Although the martial arts of Bosam Sect weren’t particularly outstanding, this was considered one of their finest techniques, passed down with care, and its effectiveness was not bad.

Jin Ja-gang extended his hand forward as if pushing out the finely connected internal power.

Ping-

A faint sound of air being pierced rang out as the Joint-Breaking Needle flew a long distance and embedded itself into the trunk of a tree five jang (about 15 meters) away, exactly where Jin Ja-gang had aimed.

Thwack!

In actual combat, since he would use poisoned needles, there was no need to throw the hidden weapon with excessive force. Whether it embedded deeply, shallowly, or merely grazed, as long as it inflicted a wound, that was enough.

Therefore, Jin Ja-gang focused on speed and accuracy rather than strength.

He picked up another Joint-Breaking Needle. Holding his breath, he twisted his internal power, flicked his fingers as if snapping them, and extended his hand.

This time, the Joint-Breaking Needle curved twice in mid-air, drawing three arcs.

The name Flying Thread Twelve Branches came from this. With mastery, one could create twelve variations in direction, like twelve branches extending out.

However, regrettably, the Joint-Breaking Needle he threw this time slightly missed the intended tree trunk and flew into the bushes behind it.

Jin Ja-gang exhaled the breath he had been holding with a look of disappointment.

Practicing in the pitch-black mine shaft was very different from executing it outside in reality.

At his current level, after drawing in a wisp of energy, he could use Flying Thread Twelve Branches twice.

But it was still insufficient. If this had been a real battle, missing the second hidden weapon could have led to a critical moment of danger.

“I need to practice more.”

Not just hidden weapon techniques, but also various weapon skills, footwork, and movement techniques.

There was still much for Jin Ja-gang to do.

Crunch, crunch.

Jin Ja-gang chewed on Qian Niu Zi while regathering his energy.

* * *

Four days later, the warriors of the Shadow Bureau finally began threshing the buckwheat.

They spread the dried buckwheat stalks widely over a mat and beat them with flails.

After finishing the threshing, the warriors gathered the grains. They placed the collected grains into a winnowing machine, stepping on a pedal to turn the fan and separate the chaff and debris.

…Once a sufficient amount of grains had been gathered, a middle-aged man packed a sack of grains and hoisted it onto his shoulder.

“We’ll take just enough for today’s use.”

“Wash it in the stream and leave it to dry nearby. I’ll grind it with the millstone in the evening.”

“Understood.”

The man, despite carrying the heavy sack, climbed the slope up the mountain with ease.

A stream flowing down from the top of the mountain encircled the outer edge of the mountain. The water needed for farming was drawn from there.

The man hopped up the mountain and placed the sack on a flat rock. He set a large bamboo sieve on the ground and prepared to pour the buckwheat into it for washing.

“We’ll have a hearty meal of Shaobing tonight.”

The man rolled up his sleeves and smiled contentedly. Just as he was about to wash the buckwheat, he suddenly noticed something white floating down from upstream.

“Hmm?”

It was a dead fish, floating belly-up down the stream.

The man’s eyes narrowed.

“What’s this?”

It was an ill omen.

Stepping back from the stream, the man left the buckwheat behind and headed upstream.

As he climbed, more dead fish continued to float down, their bellies exposed.

The man minimized the sound of his footsteps as he ascended upstream. The cause of the fish deaths was there.

Upon assessing the situation, the man relaxed and even let out a laugh.

“It’s just Yamali.”

Yamali is the Chinese term for the chinaberry tree.

For some unknown reason, a large branch of a chinaberry tree had broken off and was submerged in the stream.

While the chinaberry tree is harmless to humans, it is highly toxic to insects and fish.

With such a large branch submerged, it was no wonder the fish were dying from the chinaberry’s toxicity and floating downstream.

“Why did the branch break off?”

Splash, splash.

The man waded into the stream, where the water reached his knees, and pulled out the chinaberry branch. After tossing the branch far away from the water, he returned downstream to his original spot.

Back at his position, the man grabbed the bamboo sieve he had placed on the rock.

He intended to wash the buckwheat… but…

Sting.

The man grimaced and pulled his finger away. It seemed a splinter from the bamboo sieve had pricked him at the edge.

A bead of blood formed at the tip of his finger.

“What’s with today?”

The man muttered in irritation.

But at that moment, an artificial and unsettling sound reached his ears.

Crunch, crunch.

A sudden presence.

The man turned his head to look behind him.

Emerging from the forest was a young man walking toward him. The crunching sound came from something the young man was chewing.

“What’s this?”

It didn’t seem like he was just passing by; the young man was looking directly at him as he approached.

However, there was no need to ask who he was.

The young man’s gait appeared somewhat uneven.

He was limping on one leg.

At that moment, tension spread across the man’s face.

“A cripple?”

Countless watchful eyes were spread across nearly all of Yunnan. So how had this limping person managed to come all the way here without being caught by those eyes?

The young man stopped walking.

“I don’t know you, but it seems you know quite a bit about me.”