North Sea Martial Arts Warrior - Chapter 77

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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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77. Block the Path

The entrance to the Narrow Gorge was cramped.
The moment Cheok Mu-yeong stepped inside, seven shadows dropped simultaneously from the cliffs on either side, as if they’d been waiting.
Before the shadows even touched ground, each found its position.
Dirt crumbled down the cliff face in the wake of their feet.
Cheok Mu-yeong’s blade tip rose slightly, testing the narrow width of the gorge entrance.
Whoosh!
They began to spin at once. From the center of the sword formation made by seven figures, a white powder rose like mist, then settled slowly.
‘That killing intent… so thick. Evil Sect disciples?’
Cheok Mu-yeong frowned quietly.
He stepped back and shielded his younger sister with his body.
Cheok Ha-rin drew her blade from behind her brother’s back and cried out softly.
“Should I attack, brother?”
“Just watch. Don’t move unless I tell you to.”
Cheok Mu-yeong studied the shadows intently, then suddenly raised his blade, pointing it at the formation as recognition dawned. “The Chilsal Charyuk Formation. It’s the core formation technique of the Chilsal Mun from north of the river.”

“Is it famous?”
“Insidious.”
Cheok Mu-yeong tracked the rotation speed and pattern with his eyes. In his mind, seven positions emerged in sequence.
The shadows never stopped moving.
When one withdrew from position, another immediately thrust a blade forward. Seven bodies rotating, filling gaps in turn.
Once caught in that formation, one would face a hellish wheel of blades.
‘Must break it from the outside. Get pulled in, you’re dead.’
Inside the gorge, white powder rose again in a line. With not a whisper of wind, the powder scattered as if kicked by human feet.
And his body knew the truth before his mind did.
“Ahhh!”
A scream tore through the air.
Inside the sword formation lay two escort warriors, sprawled on the ground.
He’d told them to stay back, yet they’d been pulled into the formation anyway, almost without noticing.
Cheok Mu-yeong’s blade tip froze for a moment.
His eyes moved swiftly over the dead martial artists’ bodies. The cuts, the angles at which blades had entered and withdrawn, the sheer force of the killing strikes.
‘Killing intent incarnate. One blow to kill.’
These were definitely Evil Sect martial artists.
Moreover, two of those collapsed on one side had white powder smeared around their mouths.
‘Poison powder!’
Because he’d been poisoned at an inn once, he was wary this time. But the poison had already been dispersed somewhere.
Cheok Mu-yeong’s breathing quickened.
It was that same taste from the inn. His nose caught it first, not his tongue.
‘Hwa-saek Rang-gun! This bastard!’
“It’s Mihon Poison. A drug to capture alive. First inhalation makes your fingers tremble, second makes your legs give out. Shallow breathing. Stop your breath!”
As the words left his mouth, his body flew through the air.
Shiiing!
He unleashed the Jeol-hwi Il-geom, the signature technique of Cheon Geom Mun.
Though not as absolute as when his father wielded it, the blade of the greatest sword under heaven carved cleanly through two positions.
Crack! Thud!
Two assassins’ shoulders were split open.
But two others immediately filled the gap. The formation closed as soon as he broke through, trapping him inside.
“So it’s built to capture the moment you strike. They don’t care about their own lives at all. Truly wicked!”
Shiiing! Shiiing!
His shoulders suddenly felt heavy. A faint tremor ran through his fingertips.
He unleashed the Jeol-hwi Il-geom again and again. But this time there were five blades to parry. No space to swing freely.
And worse still, the situation had turned dire.
When they appeared, nobody could say, but figures worthy of being called “living blades” now lined the perimeter. Two of them immediately leapt into the formation to reinforce the damaged Chilsal Charyuk Formation.
Hwa-saek Rang-gun came into view.
From the shadow of the cliff face, a man slowly emerged into sight.
He approached from behind with a sinister smile, his gaze fixed not on Cheok Mu-yeong but on Cheok Ha-rin—his expression colored with lust.
‘I have to fall back!’
Clang!
To make matters worse, Cheok Mu-yeong’s blade began to give way.
“Brother!”
“Hold your ground!”
But she couldn’t. Anyone could see that Cheok Mu-yeong was being pulled deeper into the formation.
She watched her brother receding further and further into the vortex.
Her chest grew heavy.
‘No, I can’t let this happen!’
Screech!
Cheok Ha-rin unfurled the Yeon-hwan Sam-geom in rapid succession.
Her blade caught one edge of the Chilsal Charyuk Formation. But in that same instant, the assassin beside her spun and thrust his blade forward.
‘Breath shallow and quick.’
She repeated her brother’s words silently to herself.
In this moment, she felt it again—that toxic essence of the Mihon Poison she’d sensed in the inn. Her lower dantian grew warm, while her fingertips turned ice-cold.

At that same instant, a group of warriors burst through the outer reaches of the Narrow Gorge.
Blood trails marked the ground in scattered splotches.
Footprints lay tangled across the earthen floor of the gorge’s outer edge.
Garkan unleashed the Bing Chel Swae and seized it firmly.
“He didn’t seem weak in martial skill… but he’s been poisoned by the Mihon. Do you Central Plains fighters always resort to this sort of thing? Should we be carrying antidote pills in our mouths?”
“Indeed. Hehehehe!”
Garkan ran his palm across one link of the chain.
Harku adjusted the grips on both blades of his paired swords.
“Let’s go.”
Garkan swung his chain and charged forward.
Harku alternated his grip from one sword handle to the other.
Aelak’s grey eyes swept across all directions. Then he fixed his gaze intently on the rotation of the Chilsal Charyuk Formation that engulfed Cheok Mu-yeong.
“Most critical: Cheok Mu-yeong. His Qi Flow is scattering from the Mihon Poison.”
Aelak looked toward Serian.
Serian nodded.
Her blue-grey eyes followed one full rotation of the formation’s vortex. She was watching for the moment when a gap would open.
“I’ll go in. I can bring Cheok Mu-yeong out alive.”
Thud!
She lightened the pressure in her feet and stepped inward with one stride.
The Bing Mu Bo unfolded across the earthen ground.

Cheok Ha-rin suddenly felt her legs weaken. The Mihon Powder scattered across the ground was breaking down her entire body into helplessness.
‘Huff!’
She dropped to her knees.
Her knees touched the earth.
Even the cold sensation felt distant now. Yet her mind remained sharp and clear—even as strength drained from her, she kept her blade raised straight overhead to shield her head.
Whoosh!
Someone’s blade descended toward her head.
Clang! Screech!
The blade struck her sword.
In an instant, her arm buckled backward far too easily. If it came down again, her head would certainly be severed.
A fine frost crept rapidly across the powder-dust that lay on the earthen ground.
In that moment, Serian emerged through the mist.
Not a trace of powder-dust clung to her footsteps. The frost beneath her feet had frozen the powder into place.
Serian seized Cheok Ha-rin’s arm and pulled her back, while deflecting the second blade descending from above with Eun Seol.
Swish!
She let a single drop of Herbal Antidote Juice fall into Cheok Ha-rin’s mouth.
“You’ll feel better soon.”
Cheok Ha-rin breathed heavily. Within moments, strength returned to her legs.
Color rushed back into Cheok Ha-rin’s fingertips.
She grasped Serian’s hand.
“Thank you. I won’t forget this kindness—I swear I’ll repay it.”
Serian nodded.

Garkan stood on a boulder above the Narrow Gorge, unwinding the Bing Chel Swae as he spun it in great arcs.
A violent gust of wind rode along the chain’s length. The hook caught the assassin’s shoulder, and before he could resist, he was dragged upward toward the cliff face.
“Screech!”
The chain scraped the cliff’s edge, releasing a sharp metallic cry.
The assassin tried to struggle—but a freezing coldness flowed down the chain’s links. His shoulder locked rigid where it dangled.
Qi Flow severed by creeping frost.
In that instant, the assassin was no better than an ordinary man. His Qi had frozen solid.
Garkan wound the chain tighter, shortening its length in his grip.
“You blocked it, so I broke you. You’d have lived if you’d gotten out of the way.”

Harku unleashed the Gwangheul Ssang Jeon.
Both blades spun simultaneously from the same point. The upper blade raked across one assassin’s shoulder; the lower slashed through another’s ankle.
The assassins collapsed where they stood.
Their swords fell to the earth with dull thuds.
Brief words escaped Harku’s lips.
“Nar vol kur-gan, ka-rak hai-ra.”
Cold spirit of the wind, together with blood.

Taikan’s bowstring sang sharp and short.
Whistle.
The arrow struck the gorge wall and ricocheted back as if planned, piercing straight through the skull of an assassin positioned behind.
Taikan drew the string again.
His gaze traced the face of the cliff.
He hadn’t even noticed arrows flying at himself. Besides, his formation was spinning—projectile attacks meant nothing against it.
But an arrow coming from a blind angle like this couldn’t be stopped.
The assassin fell forward.
Three positions in the Chilsal Charyuk Formation emptied in an instant.
The rocks on either side of the gorge funneled the arrows’ path.
Taikan muttered to himself.
“Walls are the finest shield. Where there are walls, a few bows become like many. You have to think you’re being aimed at from all sides, or you die.”

Splash!
Arko unfurled the Heuk U Bi.
Black powder settled across one rank of the formation.
The black dust didn’t mix with the white powder—it landed separately on top of it.
Vision cut off in an instant, and through the murk, two Poison Darts came streaking in.
Snap! Crack!
Both of the assassin’s wrist tendons severed.
“Uggh!”
The assassin gasped as his blade fell from his hands.
One final handful of powder fell from Arko’s fingertips.
The sword, released from his grip, rolled helplessly across the earth. Four positions now—the Chilsal Charyuk Formation shattered. The rotation ceased.

Hwa-saek Rang-gun, standing at the gorge’s entrance, didn’t retreat even as he watched the assassins fall. They weren’t his people anyway.
Screech!
He blew a whistle.
A signal to the assassins behind him to reinforce the formation’s defenses quickly.
Hwa-saek Rang-gun slowly withdrew his hand from his robes.
“Kee-hee. This formation won’t crumble so easily. And you—you’ll fall to the Mihon Poison. You can’t fight without breathing, can you? But there’s always an answer, always a path.”
He stepped deliberately into the gorge.
He drew a handful of Mihon Powder from his robes. Quietly. And swept his hand toward the most vulnerable targets—Cheok Mu-yeong and Cheok Ha-rin.
Silent and formless, the poisoned mist drifted forth.
The air at the gorge’s entrance grew heavy once more.
Immediately, Cheok Ha-rin’s breathing dimmed again. But this time, because she’d drunk the Herbal Antidote Juice, she didn’t weaken as before.
Cheok Mu-yeong, fighting inside the formation, found himself in serious trouble. Hwa-saek Rang-gun had focused his assault on him, wanting him dead quickly.
Hwa-saek Rang-gun’s eyes were fixed on Cheok Mu-yeong’s shoulder, waiting for him to fall. He needed at least one body.
Cheok Mu-yeong’s legs gave way beneath him, his balance lost—he staggered.
In that moment, Serian broke through the formation and charged in.
While everyone else struggled not to be caught in the formation’s grip, she threw herself straight into it.
“Drink!”
Serian flung the herbal antidote juice into the air.
Her feet did not slip, even across the powder.
Cheok Mu-yeong understood her intent from that single word and opened his mouth.
Splash!
The liquid poured down his throat.
“Once more—just follow my breathing.”
The rest she didn’t need to say. Cheok Mu-yeong was a master swordsman representing the Murim Alliance. If not for the Mihon Powder, this inspection would have been simple enough…
The taste of the juice flowing into his mouth pushed the white powder from his nostrils away.
Light returned to Cheok Mu-yeong’s eyes.

Aelak lifted his gray eyes toward the battlefield.
He did not fight. His subordinates were sufficient to handle such opponents.
Instead… a chill spread directly from beneath his feet. A sheet of ice stretched in a single line toward the middle of the Narrow Gorge.
The soil at the gorge’s bottom, covered by thin ice, reflected the light dully.
He opened his mouth.
“Don’t let a single one escape.”

Hwa-saek Rang-gun’s feet slipped on the ice.
The Mihon Poison was not taking effect, and he tried to retreat immediately. But he could not take even a single step backward.
His toes skidded uselessly at the ice’s edge.
‘What is this?’
He was considerably startled.
Suddenly, his thoughts turned to the blood running down from his shoulder.
Blood spread slowly along the hem of his garment.
A wound from Eun Seol.
This was ill-omened. For some reason, he felt he had to escape this place at once.
His instinct was right. Behind him, Garkan’s Bing Chel Swae approached. From above the gorge. The hook at the chain’s end descended over his shadow.

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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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