Chapter 338 The Crimson Wolf Sword Hero Ban Dae-ha – Part 1

Chapter 338: The Crimson Wolf Sword Hero Ban Dae-ha – Part 1

Ban Dah-ha, the Crimson Wolf Sword Hero and second son of Ban Zhongyang, the Blood Wolf Sword Master and current number one martial artist in the world, was reading a letter in his room.

Though he lived deep within the mountains of An Tang, he took a keen interest in the outer martial world’s affairs, which is why he received and read reports from outside every day.

Lately, however, reading these reports left him feeling decidedly uneasy.

The most frequent topic in recent reports was none other than Xue Feng.

Ban Dae-ha frowned deeply and muttered under his breath.

“Another story about that bastard?”

The meteoric rise of Seolpung, a candidate for the Four Kings’ succession, who defeated other contenders with extraordinary feats.

Even the incident where he brought the Hyeongsan Sect—a major sect ranked among the top of the Nine Great Sects—to its knees felt unreal, like a tale from legend.

So at first, he too had scoffed, saying it was nonsense.

‘Anyway, the fanboys’ bragging just gets worse by the day. Calling this kind of nonsense “information”…’

But as time passed and he was forced to admit that all those absurd tales were true, his mood grew increasingly sour.

The reason was that Seolpung, the protagonist of that story, embodied the very image Seolpung himself had always wanted to become.

A rising master who appeared like a comet.

The title of Heaven’s First Divine Being.

The position of one of the Thirty-Six Heavenly Stars attained in his twenties.

All of these things were what he had dreamed of.

But at the same time, they were things he could never achieve now.

He suddenly stared toward the direction of Feidong, where his father, the Blood Wolf Sword Master Ban Zhongyang, might be, then turned his gaze back to his own Crimson Wolf Sword.

The crimson blade he had forged in the image of his father’s Blood Wolf Sword, embodying his desire to become like him.

But with this fake sword, I could never become like my father.

Like this sword, he had merely become a fake.

So he needed a real sword.

Like the sword he had seen last time.

‘That Mookrang Sword that bastard Seon Woo-jin had. If only I could get my hands on it…’

The mere thought of Seon Woo-jin made Opposite Ha’s eyes flash with a chilling glare.

Ever since he first saw the Moolang Sword, he had wanted it.

But he couldn’t just rashly snatch the sword from that bastard.

If that bastard’s Blood Wolf Sword was similar to my father’s Blood Wolf Sword, and if that was why he could find his way here, then he too must have broken the sword’s seal, just like my father did.

Therefore, he had sent those who opposed him to track the bastard while secretly gathering information.

But the information they obtained about Seon Woo-jin through this method was surprisingly unremarkable.

It was almost suspicious how little he seemed to have accomplished.

All they discovered was that he was called the disgrace of the Sunwoo family and that he was a worker on the front lines. That was all.

Except for that time when he captured the peak master with a first-rate move and earned the nickname ‘Lowly Black Wolf,’ the bastard had been virtually inactive in the martial world.

‘This is just some nameless nobody, isn’t it?’

Ban Dae-ha frowned involuntarily, muttering to himself.

But just as he considered whether he could simply take the sword based on that information, he realized the pursuers of Sun Woo-jin had vanished without a trace.

Martial artists possessing abilities on par with elite assassins had been erased as cleanly as if they had never existed from the start.

‘This is…?’

Something was definitely off.

The gap between the information about him and his actual appearance was too great.

So, I decided to oppose it and started investigating Seon Woo-jin’s actions from the very beginning.

Then I discovered something astonishing.

It was that tremendous incidents always occurred in the vicinity where he had stayed.

‘When he was at the Seonwoo Sect, the Blood Sect’s supreme master, Chukhotak, and the Heavenly Thirty-Six Immortals’ Temptress of Flames, Hwasayu, were killed by the Demon of the Night. When he was in the South Sea region, the South Sea Demon Sword, Jin Taedo, and the Demon King, Manhaksung, were killed by the South Sea Holy Maiden. Then when I went to the Four Kings Lotus, the most powerful successor, Gwe Jeong-gi, fell. And now that I’ve gone to the Hyeongsan Sect, the entire Hyeongsan Sect itself has fallen?’

It was astonishing.

Wherever he went, tremendous events unfolded, yet Sunwoo Jin’s name was conspicuously absent from them all.

Amidst these monumental events, where even a single word spoken nearby could have brought fame, he gained absolutely none.

At this point, that fact alone was astonishing enough.

Moreover, the companions traveling with him are the Thirty-Six Heavenly Stars and the heir to the Four Kings, the Storm Dragon Seolpung; the powerful supreme master Hong Hae-a, Zeng Qil; and the Four Great Beauties of the Evil Sect and supreme master, the Moonlit Beauty Yeon Tae-jin. And then there’s Jin Xiao’en, the rumored successor to the Natural Kun technique of the Jin Family of Guangdong. Yet you claim that only Xian Youjin, the Lowly Black Wolf, is merely a first-rate martial artist? Does that even make sense?”

Only when opposing did he realize.

For reasons unknown, the man had deliberately abandoned spreading his fame—no, he had actively concealed it.

For someone who craved fame more than anyone else, it was utterly incomprehensible.

Moreover, having barely pieced together fragments of information, he could roughly gauge his opponent’s worthlessness, making it all the more incomprehensible.

‘That young swordsman who subdued the noble Baek Giryang of the Four Kings Alliance with sheer momentum alone—the one said to have been beside Seolpung—that must be the bastard.’

Admitting this truth to himself, he felt a deep sense of humiliation.

Even though Seon Woo-jin hadn’t done anything to him personally, he somehow felt as if he’d suffered a great insult.

That only deepened his obsession.

‘If only I had possessed that sword, the Mookrang Sword…’

Shame, jealousy, self-loathing.

All those emotions coalesced into one, amplifying his greed for the Black Sword.

Opposing this, he abruptly tore up the letter he’d been reading, crumpled it roughly, and flung it hard against the wall before leaping to his feet.

“Damn it!”

He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep like this.

He had to do something to vent his frustration.

Kwaaang!

As he kicked open the door and stormed out, the guards stationed in the hallway bowed their heads to him.

“Young master.”

He gave a cursory nod to those who objected and began descending into the basement.

It was the very place where the dungeons holding prisoners were located.

The dungeon beneath the mountain lodge held a variety of criminals.

From those who dared to oppress the powerless in the sacred land of Zhejiang Province and were captured, to those who recklessly caused trouble by declaring they would challenge the Blood Wolf Sword Master, Ban Zhongyang.

And among them were those imprisoned simply for being members of the heretical sect.

Ban Dae-ha’s way of relieving his mood was to torment those prisoners.

Since they were criminals of the heretical sect, he felt no guilt. Tormenting them, rendered powerless to resist by acupoint suppression, brought him a strange pleasure. He often found himself feeling strangely good afterward.

“I greet this gentleman!”

“We greet this noble gentleman!”

Passing by the guards of the prison who bowed respectfully to the very person opposing them, he began to descend deep into the underground.

Then, before one of the prison cells, they paused briefly.

It was the place where the very man who deserved to die was imprisoned—the one who had dared to slaughter an entire family of commoners within Zhejiang Province and flee, only to be captured.

It was also the place Ban Dae-ha most frequently visited to unwind.

But after gazing at it for a moment, Ban Dae-han soon resumed his walk.

Today’s mood seemed impossible to lift with such petty trifles.

It was time for a larger sacrifice that could boost his self-esteem a bit more.

As he ventured deep into the dungeon, he finally stopped before the thickest iron bars—almost as thick as a human forearm.

He let out a slightly tense laugh there and addressed the person inside.

“How have you been, Master Pyo?”

At that voice, the man imprisoned inside slowly raised his head and opened his eyes, which had been closed.

Then a beastly glint began to flash and seep from those eyes.

The man called Pyo Nosa was an imposing, large-framed old man with striking, disheveled snow-white hair and beard.

He was suspended from the wall, his arms and legs tightly bound in iron chains, unable even to sit on the ground.

He growled back in a low voice.

“How have you been…?” he growled. “If you’re so curious, why don’t you hang here yourself? See if you can manage to be ‘well’.”

Opposite Ha forced a relaxed smile and replied.

“Seeing you’re still so full of energy, I gather you’ve been keeping well. Your tone is still as stiff as ever… I suppose I’ll have to tell the guards to cut back on your meals.”

At that, the old man asked with a sneer.

“You little bastard. Seeing you come looking for me, I suppose something hurt your feelings again? Why? Did you feel inferior to someone else?”

Opposite’s expression froze completely at that question.

He could no longer feign composure, struck to the core by those words.

Then the old man burst out laughing.

“Looks like you hit the nail on the head, heh heh heh heh!”

His face flushed crimson in defiance of his sneer.

He shouted in an angry voice.

“How dare this old fool who doesn’t know his place!”

Without further hesitation, he unlocked the barred door and entered the dungeon.

Then, grabbing the whip coiled and hanging in the corner, he shouted.

“Old man! Do you think you’re one of the Thirty-Six Immortals even here?! You worthless scum of the heretical sect!”

He brought the whip down hard on the body of the old man who had shouted back in defiance.

Crack!

The excruciating pain instantly turned the old man’s hair white, forcing him to stop laughing.

But he did not utter a groan.

The old man gritted his teeth and endured the pain.

But even as he did so, the lashes from the whip continued unabated.

“You bastard!”

Crack!

“If you’re one of the Thirty-Six Generals of the Realm!”

Crack!

“Go ahead!”

Swoosh!

“Resist!”

Swoosh!

“Just you wait!”

Swoosh!

“Wuji Path of Destruction!”

Swoosh!

“Pyo Seokgeuk!”

Whoosh!

Wuji Paedo, Pyo Seokgeuk.

It was the name of a martial artist ranked among the top thirty-six in the realm.

It was also the name of a figure classified as neither strictly orthodox nor truly unorthodox—someone who hadn’t committed acts brutal enough to be called a rogue, yet couldn’t be considered fully righteous either.

He was a relentless martial arts fanatic, so he did occasionally commit absurd acts.

But he had never committed evil deeds severe enough to warrant imprisonment in such a dungeon.

In fact, he was closer to a chivalrous hero who had secretly performed acts of kindness more often than not.

If he had any fault, it was simply that he was too obsessed with martial arts.

Driven solely by the desire to face off against the Blood Wolf Sword Master Ban Zhongyang, he visited the An Tang Mountain Lodge every year for three years. Once, he even let slip a hint of suspicion about the Sword Master’s seemingly endless secluded training.

It was precisely on that day that the incident occurred.

After meeting him several times and becoming familiar with his face, he no longer guarded against Ban Dae-ha. He drank the fine liquor Ban Dae-ha offered and passed out cold.

And when he opened his eyes, he found himself in this state.

After whipping him relentlessly for a while, Ban Dae-ha paused his hand, let out a maniacal laugh, and asked him.

“Hehehe! You used to laugh even while being beaten, but it seems the laughter doesn’t come anymore? Is this the limit of the mental fortitude of the Thirty-Six Heavenly Stars?”

At those words, the Wuguk Pae, Pyo Seok-geuk, gritted his teeth so hard they ground together.

It was infuriating, but the bastard was right.

I no longer had the composure to smile through the pain.

The poison he ingested periodically with his meals.

Enduring a year of the bastard’s cruel treatment while also having his blood vessels pinched had gradually drained even the mental fortitude of this master of the Thirty-Six Arts.

Snap!

Pyo Seok-geuk gritted his teeth, glaring at the opposition with the wounded gaze of a beast.

But seeing the crumbling Pyo Seok-geuk in that gaze only made Ban Dae-han smile with even greater satisfaction.

A wave of intense pleasure surged through Ban Dae-han, filling his entire body and sending shivers through him.

The satisfaction of being able to control a master ranked among the top thirty-six in the world with his own hands was more than enough to fill the wound to his pride he had suffered while viewing Seolpung’s information earlier.

“Hehehehe!”

Laughter flowed out uncontrollably.

It felt like an addiction.

He wanted to destroy him even more completely than he already had.

That was when it happened.

“Kleklekleklek!”

Pyo Seok-geuk suddenly started laughing.

It was a laugh that seemed to signal he’d regained his composure.

Then, Ban Dae-ha stopped laughing and asked him with a terrifying expression.

“Why are you laughing? Do you want more?”

At that threat, Pyo Seok-geuk answered with a laugh.

“Isn’t it truly astonishing? No matter how much they say ‘a tiger cub resembles its mother,’ how could a son like you possibly have come from under the Sword Master? Could it be that you aren’t the Sword Master’s son after all? Could it be that, just like they did to me, they drugged him, locked him away somewhere, and are pretending you’re his son?”

His expression twisted in disbelief at the question.

“What did you say?”

But even so, Pyo Seok-geuk didn’t stop talking.

“Isn’t that right? You told the women of the heretical sect that if they slept with you, you’d set them free, didn’t you?”

“!”

Hearing those words, the opponent’s eyes flinched in shock.

His expression had frozen stiff for a moment.

He was too shocked to realize Pyo Seoguk knew the truth.

Then Pyo Seok-geuk snorted derisively and said.

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Surprised? Young Lady Kyung, who lived in the room next to mine until last month, told me all about it. Seeing she vanished the very next day, it must mean she did it, right? Look here. Is this really something the son of the Sword Master, the ultimate swordsman among swordsmen, would do? Not a chance! If the Sword Master had known, he would have turned you into dust first. So you, in truth…!”

That was the moment.

Opposition Ha began lashing out with the whip like a madman.

“Shut up! Shut up!”

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

The whip, wielded with all his might, flew relentlessly, tearing Byeo Se-geuk’s skin and sending blood splattering everywhere.

It was excruciating pain, as if every single hair on his body stood on end.

But Pyo Seok-geuk gritted his teeth.

He absolutely could not let a single moan escape in front of that bastard.