The Youngest Son of the Nanyang Jin Family - Chapter 212

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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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The Youngest Son of the Jin Family of Luoyang – Chapter 212

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Even as morning arrived the next day, the weather showed no signs of improvement.
The torrential downpour that fell as though the heavens themselves had torn open showed no indication of relenting, and the fierce wind that swept across the land seemed capable of uprooting even the mightiest trees.
Clatter, clatter—
The windows rattled with such violent noise that I dared not attempt to open them.
As I waited at the inn for the rain to cease, it was only in the afternoon that the relentless downpour finally paused, as though catching its breath.
I seized that moment without hesitation and set the caravan in motion.
With no way of knowing when another deluge might strike, everyone quickened their pace along the road.
There was a village half a day’s journey from this place.
If we could reach it swiftly, we would have shelter even if the torrential rains returned, so there was little cause for concern.
Thus, our procession moved with greater speed than the day before.
Both the porters pulling the supply carts and the Imperial Guards alike.
Everyone understood that they would need to exert themselves today.
As I led the procession from the very front, Jang Chuchyeong and Chaeseoha quietly fell into step beside me.
I regarded them both with a puzzled expression.
“Is something the matter?”
“Well, it’s not really a matter, but rather….”
“Do you truly intend to leave it as it is?”
“You’re speaking of the Demon Flower Sect or whatever it was?”
Chaeseoha nodded at my question.
It was none other than the deeds committed by those who had escaped from Daoyuan Township.
Though it was something I had brought about in order to rescue her, Chaeseoha seemed unable to help but feel troubled by it.
After all, had she not been captured in the first place, none of this would have occurred.
Her expression was grave, as though she carried a sense of guilt.
I had heard that many people had suffered harm.
“I thought it would be resolved now that Changryongdan has taken action.”
“No, but we’re faster than them, aren’t we? Besides…well, I bear some responsibility for this too.”
Jang Chuchyeong furrowed his brow and sighed.
Though he had merely followed his master’s instructions, he had ultimately become the catalyst for the chaos within Daoyuan Township, and thanks to that, many people had been able to escape.
He bore a far greater sense of responsibility than Chaeseoha.
Seeing this, I exhaled and shook my head.
“The fact that Changryongdan has mobilized means the Martial Arts Alliance views this matter gravely. And before entrusting the task to Changryongdan, they would have gathered sufficient information.”
“…What does that have to do with anything?”
“It means they judged that Changryongdan’s capabilities were sufficient for the task.”
Ordinarily, when such matters arise, the Martial Arts Alliance mobilizes to gather intelligence, and based on that information, they select who to dispatch.
The fact that Changryongdan—not one of the numerous other squads that typically handle such affairs within the Martial Arts Alliance—was sent indicates that the enemy’s strength is not particularly formidable.
“If they’ve taken on the task to resolve it, what would become of Changryongdan’s reputation if we finished it first?”
“Ah—.”
“So leave it be. With Moryeong Hyeok there, there’s nothing to worry about.”
At the mention of Moryeong Hyeok, Chu Hyeongi’s brow furrowed.
There had been times when the mere name of Moryeong Hyeok, leader of the Changryongdan, brought reassurance, but now it seemed to be received with a different sentiment altogether.
His reputation had been considerably tarnished.
Of course, the declining public opinion was unavoidable, but that didn’t mean Moryeong Hyeok’s actual strength had diminished as his reputation had.
He remained the finest warrior of the Changryongdan.
The strongest among those in the late stages of the Jeongdo realm.
That much hadn’t changed.
With such a man present, they wouldn’t fall easily.
With that thought concluded, I crossed the ridge and continued on for quite some distance.
As I began to feel the darkness of evening descending, the pace of our procession quickened steadily, and soon the silhouette of what could be called our destination—a village—came into view.
But in that instant.
I brought the procession to a halt.
“Why do you stop, sir?”
“The smell of blood.”
As I answered Namgung Baek’s question and narrowed my brow, Chu Hyeongi and Namgung Yeon beside me rushed forward urgently toward the village.
I too followed in their wake, entering the village, where the stench of blood grew increasingly thick and grotesque sights came into view everywhere.
Corpses strewn about in death.
Chunks of flesh torn away.
As if a war had erupted in this small village, the thick miasma of death and blood hung heavy over all the lifeless bodies.
I furrowed my brow and confirmed it.
From the sounds of retching echoing everywhere, one could gauge just how gruesome this sight was.
“What… what in the world is this…?”
Even Chu Hyeongi and Namgung Yeon were staring at the situation with trembling eyes.
I turned my gaze to look at one place.
“S-save me… save me….”
Someone was rushing toward us.
I wondered if it was a villager, but it was not.
The clothes he wore were unmistakably those of the Changryongdan.
Yet the appearance of the one rushing toward us was truly grotesque.
His clothes were drenched in blood, and his cheeks bore no flesh as if someone had torn it away, exposing bone.
His eyes, rushing forward weakly, had pupils so dilated that one could sense he was already dying, yet he approached as if possessed by something, collapsing to the ground.
“Physician!”
At his appearance, Namgung Yeon cried out in alarm, calling for Chaeseoha.
She rushed over and quickly examined the man, but soon closed her mouth and shook her head.
He had already stopped breathing.
At that sight, Namgung Baek opened his mouth with difficulty.
“…It’s Changmuhan.”
“From the Changryongdan?”
“Yes….”
Dismounting from my horse, I approached the corpse of Changmuhan.
His torn cheek looked as though someone had bitten into it.
That was not all—his body bore countless puncture wounds from finger techniques, yet the cuts showed clear intent to avoid vital points despite having ample opportunity to kill.
As though toying with him.
I furrowed my brow and examined other areas.
His fingers.
Not a single one of Changmuhan’s ten fingers remained.
As though deliberately severed.
The moment I confirmed this, a memory I had buried deep surfaced.
“Sip Murang….”
“What?!”
“…. You mean that Sip Murang?”
At someone’s alarmed question, I nodded.
He had been in Doyuanhyang.
A being without ten fingers.
His epithet was Sip Murang.
Whether born from inferiority about his own missing fingers, he was a vicious martial world criminal who severed and collected the fingers of others.
Without thinking, my eyes narrowed.
“This is troublesome….”
Patter, patter, patter—
Rain began to fall once more.

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“Damn it! The scattered members are nowhere to be found, and the rain just keeps pouring!”
Paeng Dohan furrowed his brow and surveyed his surroundings.
The torrential downpour had reduced visibility to almost nothing.
The fierce, driving rain made the situation even worse.
The faint presences felt throughout the area—whether they were people, the sound of wind, or trees swaying—had become impossible to distinguish.
Truly, the worst of circumstances.
He desperately wished the rain and wind would cease even a moment sooner, but the problem was that it showed no signs of letting up anytime soon.
And what made it even worse was none other than.
All of the Changryongdan members had scattered in every direction.
“Moryeong Hyeok! Hwangbo Yun!”
He called out their names desperately, but his loud voice was swallowed by the sound of rain and wind, unable to carry far.
All he could do was furrow his brow in frustration.
“Haa, haa… Let me at least find somewhere to take shelter from the rain.”
At the voice that soon reached his ears, Paeng Dohan turned his head.
There stood Eon Garyeo.
With wounds across her belly and shoulder, she had sealed the pressure points to stop the bleeding and torn her collar to bind the wounds, but even looking at her ashen complexion, one could sense her dire condition.
“Are you alright?”
“Haa… For now, yes.”
Eon Garyeo, swaying unsteadily, spoke with difficulty as she leaned her body against Paeng Dohan’s shoulder.
In that moment, Paeng Dohan realized something.
She was burning with fever.
Her breathing grew increasingly ragged, and though hidden by the rain, she seemed to be drenched in cold sweat.
Alarmed, he quickly lifted Eon Garyeo into his arms.
“Let me find a cave or some shelter.”
The usual composure that characterized Paeng Dohan was nowhere to be found.
The situation had become that urgent.
Carrying Eon Garyeo as he rushed forward, he bit his lip and looked around in all directions. If he could only find a place to escape this rain, even if he couldn’t leave this area, it would be more than enough.
Fortunately, no sign of enemies appeared nearby, but unfortunately, he had failed to locate the scattered Changryongdan members.
What little relief he could find was that he discovered a small cave where they could take shelter not long after.
Paeng Dohan moved carefully toward it.
Then.
“Hehehehe— How many fingers do you have, you brat?”
A chilling voice reached his ears.
Startled, he looked toward the cave entrance and saw an old man grinning wickedly, wiggling his fingers.
The moment he saw that, Paeng Dohan’s face went pale.
He carefully set Eon Garyeo down and gripped his sword.
“Sip Murang!”
“Call me Elder. You lack manners, you little brat.”
Sip Murang laughed as he moved his hand.
Paeng Dohan watched.
A single ring adorned one of his fingers.
It belonged to Changmuhan.
“You… surely not?”
“Hehe— you mean this? A magnificent finger, wouldn’t you say?”
Paeng Dohan tightened his grip on the blade, his teeth grinding audibly.
For Sip Murang to possess a finger meant the owner’s death. He had likely toyed with it before killing—rage surged forth inevitably.
“You monster—!”
“Ahahaha! Such disrespect from a child to an elder. Children like you need discipline. But wait… hmm? Ah, that child! There he is. Such delicate, beautiful fingers!”
Sip Murang’s gaze shifted toward the fallen Eon Garyeo.
His eyes gleamed with avarice, a greedy smile spreading across his face as he coveted those slender fingers.
Paeng Dohan ground his teeth at the sight.
If he retreated now, not only would he fail to avenge Changmuhan, but he would lose Eon Garyeo as well.
As a man, such a thing was unthinkable.
He leveled his blade and unleashed his momentum.
In an instant.
Whoosh—!
“Gasp—!”
A wind blade pierced through his shoulder.
It was far too swift for his level to even perceive.
He had known of Sip Murang’s prowess beforehand, yet this exceeded even the rumors.
Forcing his body to remain upright despite the urge to collapse, he kept his gaze fixed upon Sip Murang.
Ready to strike him down at any moment.
Then.
Between the cascading rain, the figure standing motionless vanished.
Simultaneously, Paeng Dohan’s eyes widened as he spun and swung his blade.
Crash—crash—crash—boom—!
“Ah! The Paeng Family’s blade technique!”
Sip Murang, having grasped the martial art in an instant, retreated swiftly.
He understood that even he could not emerge unscathed from a direct confrontation.
Then, with practiced movements, he approached and extended his hand.
Those were not even his own fingers—merely severed digits stitched together with thread and needle—yet he manipulated them freely through inner energy.
To any observer, they moved as naturally as his own fingers.
In the moment Paeng Dohan faltered before that dazzling display of finger work.
Thrust—thrust—thrust—thrust—!
“Ugh—!”
In an instant, his shoulder, chest, abdomen, and flank were pierced.
Mere fingers tearing through flesh as effortlessly as if puncturing tofu.
Yet, every vital acupoint was deliberately avoided.
As though he were toying with an ant he could crush at will, merely playing with it for amusement.
“Hehe— how about we play a little game?”
“Gack!”
“There’s a village that way. If you run with all your strength, I’ll let you go. Of course, that means taking this woman with you.”
But I was far from unscathed, having already sustained wounds.
There was no doubt that attempting to flee while carrying Eon Garyeo in such a condition would result in capture within moments.
For this reason, Paeng Dohan refused his proposal.
I simply struggled to my feet, gripped my blade, and fixed my gaze upon Sip Murang.
“Madness!”
Paeng Dohan clenched his teeth and steadied his breathing.
The aura I released remained unbroken, still radiating outward.
I had no intention whatsoever of playing along with his cruel jest.
Was it because of this?
Sip Murang’s expression twisted with displeasure as he flicked his finger.
“Hmm—it seems I have no choice then. Very well… I’ll start by severing this woman’s fingers!”
“…!?”
Sip Murang’s body shot forward in an instant.
At the same moment, I swung my blade in an attempt to intercept him, but I failed to keep pace with his nimble movements and merely slashed through empty rain.
With widened eyes, I turned to seize Sip Murang, but my outstretched hand couldn’t even grasp the hem of his garment.
“Go!”
The moment my cry rang out with force.
Sip Murang’s hand moved like a blade, streaking toward Eon Garyeo’s fingers.
But it never reached her fingers.
Thud—
Instead, Sip Murang’s own fingers were severed and fell away.
“…!”
Unable to immediately comprehend the sudden turn of events, I widened my eyes as a desolate voice cut through the falling rain.
“That vile hobby of yours persists, I see. Wouldn’t it be fitting for someone of your years to cultivate more refined tastes?”

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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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