Moorim Pochang - Chapter 98

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 98. The Guide.

Scritch…
Baek Ha-yeong spotted Yang Jung only after severing her enemy’s neck.
Caught in her gaze, Yang Jung quickly pressed a finger to his lips.
Shh!
But she had no idea why he was silencing himself that way.
“Yang Jung.”
‘This is bad.’
Yang Jung sprang to his feet.
He’d originally planned to refine the Swae-sim-sa in the water, but had changed his mind, deciding to wait until he grew more comfortable with his Gi-gong.
The moment Yang Jung revealed himself, enemies who didn’t recognize his face rushed toward him.
Black auras flickered across their blades.
“Die…!”
‘I knew this would happen.’
Crash-crash-bang…!
Yang Jung swatted away the cascade of swords.
After deflecting them, panic seized him.
‘At this rate, I’m actually going to die.’
Unaware of the situation, Baek Ha-yeong hurled her blade at the enemies and cried out.
“Yang Jung! Let’s join forces and drive them back…!”
Ah…
Yang Jung could only sigh.
The face of Baek Ha-yeong that had seemed so beautiful until now was nothing but that of a water spirit trying to drag him under.
Crash-crash-bang…! Crash-bang…!
He intercepted the falling blades while silently screaming within.
‘I can’t even run away. This is driving me mad. Please save me, brother…!’
Other skilled fighters who spotted Yang Jung also leaped into the forest.
Scritch…
In that instant, Yang Jung’s blade severed an enemy’s neck.

*

The spear shaft whirled around Cheol-goe’s body as the blade pierced relentlessly into Cho-yak’s entire frame.
Crash-crash-bang…! Crash-bang…!
Each time the Mi-cheom-do and spear blade collided, Cho-yak’s body trembled.
Yet her eyes remained as calm as a still lake.
When she left Ma-gyo, she had known she would not return.
She had also felt that her life had little time remaining.
When that person died, she died as well.
Death was merely going to meet that person—so how could she fear it?
Crash…!
Cho-yak parried the spear blade driving toward her heart.
The redirected blade came slicing toward her neck.
Crash…!
The blade barely grazed past her throat.
Blood trickled from her neck, but she paid it no mind.
‘An opponent who doesn’t fear death… I don’t want to kill them.’
Cheol-goe readjusted his spear and stepped back.
Then the Mi-cheom-do pursued with a Body Technique and drove toward his neck.
Crash…! Crash-bang…!
The instant he parried the Mi-cheom-do, his neck split open.
Whoosh…
At the same moment, his Body Technique scattered.
Cheol-goe, reappearing four zhang behind, looked toward Baek Won-yeong.
“You’ve grown considerably stronger.”
There was gladness in his voice.
If he was the son of Moon-do, he ought to have been at least that capable.
No—he was still weak.
Cheol-goe turned his gaze toward the battlefield.
Dok Go-il, Dok Go-eun, and Yeon Ja-seol were locked in fierce combat with Yeo-hwa, while the Cheonsa-gyo disciples and skilled personnel clashed in a bloody melee across the clearing.
The skilled personnel were gradually retreating into the forest.
That ridiculous fool was blocking the Cheonsa-gyo disciples from entering the trees.
Behind that ridiculous fool, a shadowy figure loomed.
‘If that bastard interferes, everything falls apart.’
Tsk.
Cheol-goe clicked his tongue and knocked aside the Mi-cheom-do that was cutting through his chest.
Crash!
“Fall back!”
As Cheol-goe raised his voice, Yeo-hwa shrieked in response.
“Why—?”
“Don’t you see Baek Moon-do and the Murim Alliance martial artists approaching?”
Just as he said, Baek Moon-do and his Murim Alliance fighters were closing in at tremendous speed.
“Damn it. Retreat!”
Yeo-hwa was the first to leap back using her Body Technique, and her subordinates followed swiftly behind her.
Yet Cheol-goe did not move.
Cho-yak and Baek Won-yeong merely watched him, spears lowered.

*

Baek Moon-do halted his Body Technique.
“Cheol-goe.”
A terrible power radiated from his entire frame.
But Cheol-goe shook his head.
Since he had caused such a disturbance, he had to see Baek Moon-do’s face before leaving.
“I wish to stop here today.”
“You come all this way, engage me in combat, and then withdraw unilaterally?”
Baek Moon-do’s voice was so heavy that the Murim Alliance fighters felt as though they might suffocate at any moment.
His fury was immense.
Cheol-goe, watching him, turned his gaze toward the forest.
“Will you make pheasant dumplings for me next time?”
“It takes quite a long time. Will that be acceptable?”
Kang Jo accepted the request without hesitation.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll prepare the meat myself.”
“Understood. I look forward to seeing you again next time.”
Cheol-goe nodded and turned his gaze back to Baek Moon-do.
“Shall we begin then?”
Whoosh.
As a killing aura flowed from his entire body, Cho-yak along with the skilled personnel and Murim Alliance fighters all retreated in unison.
Baek Moon-do drew his sword.
Screee.
Suddenly, wind erupted around Cheol-goe.
Slash.
Baek Moon-do severed that wind in an instant.
But Cheol-goe had already vanished.
Baek Moon-do sheathed his sword and spoke.
“Collect the remains.”

*

Sigh.
‘I barely made it.’
Yang Jung exhaled a breath of relief, composed his expression, and turned.
“Are you unharmed, Miss Baek?”
“Yes. Thanks to you, Master Yang, I’m alive.”
“You’re too kind. I have business at the Guest Inn, so I’ll take my leave first.”
“Yes. I’ll see you again later.”
After exchanging pleasantries with her, he spoke to Kang Jo in a clear, ringing voice.
“Perhaps it’s time to leave, brother.”
Kang Jo glared at him, then turned his Body Technique and began moving deeper into the forest.
But then Cho-yak’s voice called out.
“Prepare some wine for evening, would you?”
“Very well.”
As Kang Jo stepped deeper into the woods, he suddenly stopped.
“Are you looking for trouble?”
At that eerie tone, Yang Jung’s spirit deflated at once.
“It’s not like that, brother. I was in hiding when those bastards suddenly came rushing in—what was I supposed to do? My sword just came out on its own.”
“Why in blazes were you hiding in that spot to begin with?”
“Well, there’s a stream nearby, isn’t there? The Swae-sim-sa needs to be refined in water, so I wanted to practice on land first before going into the stream.”
Yang Jung’s excuse was reasonably convincing.
“From now on, practice under the Stone Bridge.”
“I’m no beggar, brother—how am I supposed to sleep under a bridge?”
“Fine. Do as you please, you wretch.”

*

A strikingly handsome middle-aged man entered the Training Ground.
His hair was combed so neatly that a hairpin had been placed in it; had it not been for the black robes he wore and the sword at his waist, one might have taken him for a scholar.
The sword sheath at his waist was unusual—it resembled a long triangular rod.
Moyong Se, who had been refining his Martial Art, stepped forward to block his path.
Had the man borne a tattoo, he would have known he was one of their own, but he bore none.
“Outsiders are not permitted here.”
As he moved to block the way, a smile appeared at the corners of the middle-aged man’s mouth.
In an instant, Moyong Se hurriedly shifted his Body Technique.
Hisssss…
As he slid backward across the ground, his movement flowed as smoothly and swiftly as water.
Heh, heh…
“I am no outsider. Is Hyeol-je within?”
The middle-aged man asked in a soft, pleasant voice.
“Who are you, daring to seek my master…?”
Moyong Se raised his sword point toward the man’s face.
How dare he casually invoke his master’s name.
This creature had no right to live.
Yet the middle-aged man continued to smile.
“You seem to be a rather suspicious fellow. Would it not be better to summon Hyeol-je?”
Whiiiiiii………………
Before his words had even finished, a whirlwind erupted in the center of the Training Ground.
The wind quickly subsided, and Hyeol-je appeared.
The moment he manifested, his expression twisted with displeasure.
“I summoned Gu-ya. What business brings you here?”
At this, the middle-aged man bowed respectfully.
“This lowly servant greets Hyeol-je. The Cheonsa was most grieved by Gwang-ak’s death. He has instructed me to watch over you, Cheol-goe, and Yeo-hwa.”
“Watch over them or not—where are they? They’re doing well enough. Now be on your way.”
“I intend to confirm it with my own eyes before I depart.”
“Sickening whelp.”
Hyeol-je laughed scornfully, then turned his gaze to Moyong Se.
“This man is called a Teacher-Blade—the Cheonsa’s personal attendant. Show him the courtesy due an acquaintance.”
The one known as Teacher-Blade was someone the Cheonsa employed directly.
His skill in medicine was without equal; there was no illness he could not cure.
And he was the only one whose mastery of the Tattooing Art surpassed even his own.
“Understood, Master.”
At his disciple’s reply, Hyeol-je grinned wickedly.
Keke-keke…
“When others are near me, my hands have a mind of their own, so make an effort to keep your distance.”
The Teacher-Blade did not blush in the slightest.
“I shall only observe from afar—I have no intention of remaining close. I’ve come out into the world after so long; shouldn’t I attend to the common folk? How many lives has the master saved?”
“Countless. So refrain from speaking carelessly.”
At Hyeol-je’s response, the middle-aged man bowed deeply with deference.
“Then I shall go rescue the people as well.”
“Save as many as you can.”
Hyeol-je watched his retreating figure, unable to suppress a bitter smile.
That man was the most loathsome creature in the world.
Cheol-goe and Yeo-hwa were repugnant too, but they could not compare to him.
Once, Hyeol-je had tried to understand why he despised the middle-aged man so intensely.
But he could find no reason for it.
The moment their eyes met, revulsion crawled up his throat.
“What was your assessment of him?”
At Hyeol-je’s question, Moyong Se answered without hesitation.
“His swordsmanship was peculiar, yet he did not appear to be a master. Even his voice was soft—I took him for a scholar devoted to learning.”
Kee-kee-kee………..
“His shell looks to be in his forties, but he’s well past sixty. Yet not a single grey hair on his head. He deserves to be called a demon, not a man.”
“How did he attain the power of immortality without tattooing himself?”
Crack-crack-crack….haha-haha………..!
Hyeol-je laughed like a madman.
When his laughter subsided, he walked toward the Divine Hall and spoke.
“If you saw his bare body, you’d sing a different tune. He forfeited strength to gain immortality. But he’s so extraordinarily skilled that even Cheol-goe does not dismiss him. You have had the marks inscribed on both face and head, so you will become far stronger than he ever was.”
Besides the middle-aged man, Gu-ya had also not inscribed the marks upon her face.
That was precisely why she was needed.
Moyong Se bowed deeply to Hyeol-je.
“Without doubt, it shall be so. My destiny is to become the greatest master under heaven.”
The moment Hyeol-je heard these words, he stopped.
“You believe in destiny?”
“Yes. Is it not destiny that this disciple met his master?”
Kee-kee-kee………..
“Most of what men call destiny is merely the weight of past mistakes. Do not believe in destiny. What you forge with your own hands—that is your destiny.”

*

Cho-yak raised her cup first.
“Let us drink to Ban-yu, Won Ja-ui, Yu Seo-hwa, and Shin Woong.”
The members of Jamryong-hoe and Seong Ma-dan followed suit, lifting their cups.
“Carry them in your hearts, and begin anew tomorrow.”
They all drained their cups in unison.
The final assault had claimed four lives.
More than ten others lay wounded, unable to attend this gathering.
Fires burned in various corners of the Guest Inn.
Now Jamryong-hoe and Seong Ma-dan did not sit apart.
Those of kindred spirit sat together, sharing drinks.
As he ate, Ak Hwan expressed his gratitude to Yang Jung.
“Thanks to you, Master Yang, my comrades were able to preserve their lives. I am grateful.”
Ak Hwan had not fled into the forest.
Yet it was undeniable that he had aided several of his companions in their escape.
Ha-ha…..
“You are too kind.”
Yang Jung received his thanks with his characteristic bright laughter and gentle voice.
The skilled members of Jamryong-hoe seemed to acknowledge Yang Jung, but Seong Ma-dan did not share that sentiment.
They still appeared displeased with him, yet with Kang Jo present, they concealed their displeasure.
But as the wine flowed, someone began to stir up trouble.
“Master Yang, I noticed before that your sword is quite fine. How would you like to engage in a Sword Contest with mine?”
A Sword Contest was, in its truest form, a duel between two blades to determine which was superior.
Among martial artists, the Sword Contest was the simplest way to settle disputes.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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