Chapter 26 The Battle of Jianchang (4)

Chapter 26: The Battle of Jianchang (4)

We each carried as much food as possible and began descending the cliff beneath the fort.

It was a perilous journey where a single misstep could send one tumbling a thousand feet down a precipice, so we took each step with utmost caution.

We also moved under cover of dawn for security.

If the enemy noticed, it would spell disaster.

Because of this, we could only descend at a snail’s pace.

The only silver lining was that all the remaining guards were masters of the highest caliber.

Had they been mere amateurs, several would have experienced a rope-less bungee jump.

Had two hours passed?

Thud.

‘Phew… That was close.’

The moment his feet touched the ground, his legs went limp.

Everyone else seemed to feel the same, sitting down to catch their breath.

About an hour later, Wei Zhifeng was the last to descend.

He’d stayed behind until the very end, observing the enemy’s movements.

He volunteered, claiming that as part of his training in his youth, he’d traversed this cliff twice daily to become the fastest at escaping.

To abandon the latest martial arts training methods and still cling to such Stone Age training techniques.

‘Well, I’m glad I didn’t join the Silent Dragon Sect.’

It was truly a head-shaking affair.

Anyway, with Wei Jifeng joining us, we began moving towards the hidden secret passage of the Pointing Blade Sect.

Normally, this wouldn’t be something disclosed to outsiders, but what’s the point of worrying about that when we’re all about to die?

Using everything available to survive was the priority.

After walking for a while, I glanced back and saw flames rising from the branch headquarters.

Likely, Nanchung Palace had set it ablaze upon confirming the guards were gone.

“Guh.”

“Sniff.”

The Moolryongdang warriors who witnessed this began weeping, their sobs muffled.

Though it was now a branch of Guryongseong, it had once been the headquarters of the Jeomchangpa.

They must be feeling the same burning fury as the temple burns.

Wee Jipung, too, couldn’t contain his rage, his eyes bloodshot.

“Let’s go. Let’s go and repay them properly.”

“…Let’s do that.”

After walking the mountain path for quite some time, we came upon a large cave.

It was the Ancestral Hall where the tablets of the Zhanchang investigators had been enshrined before their merger with the Nine Dragon Fortress.

Though empty now, it remained meticulously maintained, as if still under care.

The moment we arrived, all eyes, including those of the officers, focused intently.

Their eyes, witnessing the burning branch, burned with fierce resolve.

I spoke to them thus.

“It is time to show the enemies the terror of the Nine Dragon Fortress.”

It was the beginning of the resistance.

***

Jin Mak-ho, the Six-Fingered Sword Ghost, one of the Seven Elders of Namcheon Palace.

A renowned peak master in the southern martial world, he led the masters of Namcheon Palace and the tribal people in searching Jomchang Mountain.

Their goal was to find the missing warriors of Guryongseong.

“It doesn’t seem to be here.”

“Did you search properly?!”

“Yes, we mobilized the tribesmen and searched several times, but found no trace.”

The tribes of Southern Mania could find even a sparrow chick in the forest.

If even they couldn’t find them, it was safe to assume they weren’t there.

“Move deeper into the mountain.”

“Yes!”

The leader of the Assassination Squad ordered his men to move deeper into the mountain.

Then, the three hundred Bishal troops and seven hundred tribal members began moving en masse.

“If they’re caught, they’ll be torn to pieces.”

He growled, consumed by vengeance.

Not long ago, Jin Woo-ryang, the squad leader of the Bishal First Squad who had died in battle, was his nephew.

Had they been moving for about half a day?

The leader of the Bishal squad, mindful of the pursuit force’s stamina, approached him.

“I think we should rest here for a moment before continuing.”

“There is no time for rest.”

“However, if we push on and exhaust our strength, the Bishal squad may manage, but the tribesmen will struggle to keep up.”

“You dare contradict me? You must want to die.”

“No. We’ll resume the pursuit.“

Ultimately, unable to overcome Jin Mak-ho’s stubbornness, the leader of the Bissal Squadron ordered them to move again.

The tribe members’ discontent erupted, but it was quickly quelled by the Bissal Squadron’s fierce momentum.

Just as they were about to start moving again.

Boom.

An explosion sounded from somewhere.

And then.

”Aaargh!“

”Guh…”

“Ugh!”

The tribe members’ screams echoed.

Jin Mak-ho and the entire Bissaldae swiftly headed toward the source.

“Wh-what the…?”

A gruesome scene.

The tribe members near the explosion’s origin had been slaughtered en masse.

Jin Mak-ho shouted, sensing something was terribly wrong.

“Poison! Everyone, hold your breath!“

Poison bullets.

They were undoubtedly the work of the Green Dragon Sect, known as the world’s foremost poison masters.

Which meant.

The target of their pursuit was not far away.

Jin Mak-ho drew his sword and ordered battle preparations.

”Everyone, take up your weapons and be on guard!”

Meanwhile, watching this scene from a distance was someone.

‘Caught.’

It was Mujeon.

***

From then on, everything went according to plan.

They left traces at regular intervals to lure the discovered enemies.

They set traps using Green Dragon Sect poison in places the enemy was likely to pass.

To make them doubt everything they saw—water to drink, ground to rest on.

Thanks to this, the extremely wary enemies advanced with even tighter vigilance.

But that wasn’t all.

We thoroughly tormented them for days.

“That’s enough. Everyone, withdraw!”

Assassins skilled in the art of assassination from the Dark Dragon Sect would strike under cover of night, eliminating enemy sentries.

“Drop it!”

Crash!

Warriors from the White Dragon Sect, boasting incredible strength, would drop boulders from cliffs.

“Now! Deploy the formation!”

The warriors of the White Dragon Sect laid down their battle formation, deepening the chaos.

Whether these efforts paid off or not, the enemy forces gradually began to fracture.

The conflict between the frightened tribespeople and the Namcheon Palace warriors trying to drag them along by force had exploded.

Yesterday, we even witnessed an old man who seemed to be their leader massacring the tribespeople.

It was ripe enough now.

If we let it ferment any longer, it’ll be completely spoiled and inedible.

“Charge!”

We raised our weapons and charged at the enemy.

The vanguard was the Black Dragon Corps.

Perhaps because they had witnessed their former stronghold, the Jianchang Fortress, burning, they volunteered to lead.

The unhesitating Blazing Eighteen Swords sliced through the enemy.

Swoosh! Swoosh!

Behind the path Mukeongdang had carved, the warriors of Hoeryongdang entered, swords drawn.

The Paecheon Daeryeokdo (Overlord’s Mighty Blade), true to its name, a heavy blade of monstrous strength, crushed enemies whole, widening the path.

Behind them came a torrential onslaught.

Thus, the sound of weapons clashing, filled with the will to kill, filled the slopes of Jeomchang Mountain.

A battle between a thousand defenders and three hundred charging warriors.

At first glance, it seemed like they were willingly charging into the tiger’s mouth, but the reality was entirely different.

The enemy, pushed to their absolute limit, collapsed without even mustering a fight.

Moreover, the southern tribesmen, who should have been supporting the warriors of Namcheongung, began to flee.

Their steadily declining morale had surely crushed their will to fight.

Ultimately, the actual combatants were the three hundred warriors of Namcheongung and the three hundred defenders.

It was a battle they could certainly handle.

Of course, they couldn’t afford to let their guard down.

After all, in a battle between martial arts factions, a single master could easily turn the tide of battle.

Just like right now.

“I’ll kill every last one of you!”

As the roar erupted, two martial artists with menacing auras flew out from the enemy lines.

One was an old man, the other a middle-aged man with a bloodthirsty look.

In the martial arts world, an old man was almost always either a master or a hidden mastermind.

Leaving them alone risked heavy casualties for our side.

But facing them alone was impossible.

“Brother Weiji!”

What could be more futile than dying to save others?

“Right!”

I summoned my inner helper, Weijifeng.

The old man, spotting us approaching, bellowed.

“You bastards!”

Attacking with swords without even exchanging names—typical of the heretical faction.

Shwaaah.

The old man’s sword moved like a serpent’s head.

‘Illusory Sword!’

A movement so dizzying, staring at it too long would surely give me a squint.

Moreover, the man behind him unleashed a bizarre sword strike, as if he’d mastered the unmanned sword techniques of the Southern Heavenly Palace.

But.

“Hmph!”

It was the prevailing wisdom that devious, heretical martial arts could never overcome orthodox, righteous techniques.

Wei Jifeng’s Spectral Eighteen Swords began parrying the old man’s blade.

And I, too, charged at another opponent.

It wasn’t that I deliberately chose the weaker-looking one.

It was just coincidence. Truly.

Pafat.

I executed the Zhen Wang Bo, shifting from his front to his side.

“I see everything!”

Then, like a ghost, he swung his sword.

Shashak. Swoosh.

A spine-chilling sword path sliced through my chest.

I barely dodged, but a small gash appeared along with my torn robe.

‘Wow.’

Looking again, I wondered what kind of righteous martial art this was.

It was just the stronger one winning.

“You’re lucky!”

“How is this luck?! It’s skill.”

The sword strike unfolded once more.

This time, it was coated in a milky-white sword aura. Even a glancing blow felt like it would slice me to pieces.

‘This is maddening.’

Weaker than the Soul-Devouring Blade I’d fought before, but far trickier.

It’s a matter of counter-attacks.

That Soul-Devouring Blade chose power over speed and adaptability, making close combat easier.

Swoosh!

“Ouch!”

Piercing the blade of this guy, who sacrificed power for superior speed and adaptability, was incredibly difficult.

“You dodge like a rat!”

Thinking time was running out, his momentum shifted.

Until just now, he’d wielded a sword style balanced between offense and defense, but now an all-out offensive sword style erupted.

Probably, he wanted to reunite with his subordinates quickly.

And his efforts finally bore fruit.

Thwack!

“Guh.”

His bizarre, twisting sword pierced my shoulder, which I’d been frantically dodging.

“Die!”

Having been struck by a sword imbued with such sword energy, I felt compelled to warn others.

If you ever get hit by a truck and end up in another world, don’t fight a Swordmaster.

‘Fucking hurts.’

But I couldn’t just take it lying down.

Like lightning, I shot out my left hand and grabbed his wrist.

It was the Golden Hand Technique, Three Yang Hand.

“Hmph!”

As if he’d been through this many times before, he shot out his left hand.

Holding a dagger.

But. Isn’t close combat my specialty?

Puff-puff-puff-puff.

Before the dagger could strike, I shot out my left hand, driving five strikes of the Dragon-Piercing Ten-Pronged Thrust into his torso.

“Guh!”

He screamed, then used the recoil.

He immediately stepped back.

It seemed he was trying to create distance.

‘If I give him space here, I’m done for.’

I immediately used the Zhen Wang Bo to close the gap even further.

Close combat erupted once more.

He tried to push me away with sword strikes, elbows, and knees.

“Yeeek!”

I absorbed every blow with my body, except for the fatal ones.

My skull rang and excruciating pain surged through me, but I could endure this easily.

Because.

Kwoo-rang.

Just one successful strike would be enough to take him down.

Thud! Crack!

The barely activated explosive knuckles embedded themselves in his solar plexus.

The energy concentrated in my fist pierced his body and detonated inside.

Splatter.

Blood-soaked flesh scattered in all directions.

A single strike.

The power of sixty years of cultivation, gained by consuming the Snow Yin Elixir.

Squish. Thud.

Just as he caught his breath, a horrific sound came from behind.

“Ugh…”

The old man’s sword had reduced Wee Jifeng to a rag.

Thud.

Wee Jifeng deployed his Spectral Projection at just the right moments, barely managing to pull away, but he was still being pushed back.

He immediately activated the Zhen Wang Bo to close in behind the old man.

“You bastard!”

Though he didn’t have eyes in the back of his head, the old man spun around and swung his sword.

“!!!”

Swoosh!

The ground was deeply gouged, and a massive tree was cleaved diagonally.

It was the Sword Strike, the preliminary stage of the Sword Qi.

“… Hey, old man? How about we talk like civilized people?“

”Don’t talk nonsense!“

The old man’s sword moved again.

The sword energy bursting from his dazzling sword technique disrupted the surroundings.

Its speed was also insanely fast, making evasion difficult.

As a result, wounds appeared all over his body.

”Stick your neck out!”

“Aren’t you tired, old man? Why not rest and watch your grandchildren play… Ouch!”

The sword dance swept in again.

‘I can’t close the distance.’

To land even one strike, I needed to engage in close combat, but he wouldn’t give me the opening.

But I wasn’t fighting alone.

Wee Jipung, who had regained his breath, sent a telepathic message.

[Hold your ground for ten seconds!]

‘Damn it…’

Whether he meant to withstand ten slashes or literally hold out for ten seconds, neither was an easy demand.

“Hmph!”

Clang. Clang.

I blocked the old man’s sword with my qi-infused gauntlet.

I could feel cracks forming in the Black Lotus Gauntlets after just two strikes.

The problem was, I had no way to withstand the next one.

Finally, I resolved to unleash the ultimate technique I’d saved for the very last moment.

“Let’s negotiate!”

It was the teeth.

“…What?”

“I’ll release the old man and all his men, so let’s stop fighting!”

“Are you serious?!”

“I swear on my honor…”

Just as I was teasing him with words, I sensed an overwhelming aura rising from Wei Zifeng’s entire body.

“You’re the kind of guy who talks big.”

As soon as I moved, Wei Zifeng thrust his sword forward.

And then.

Wuuuung!

With a majestic resonance, a beam of light shot forth from his sword like a bolt of lightning.

The old man, startled, swung his sword to block it.

POW!

Overwhelmed by the force, his right arm was severed.

The legendary secret technique passed down from the tale of Hou Yi, son of the Heavenly God, who shot down the sun.

The Sun-Shooting Sword, Hou Yi’s Sun-Shooting.

This divine sword technique, one of the world’s most renowned, erupted from the hands of Wei Zhifeng.

“Gasp! Gasp!”

Exhausted, Wei Zhifeng collapsed with a thud.

“Guh…”

Seeing this, the old man gritted his teeth.

Then, he immediately shot off in one direction.

He chose to flee for his life rather than stand and die.

Of course, I wasn’t about to just let him go.

Thwack!

I leapt up swiftly and seized the old man from behind.

“!!!”

The old man turned in shock, but.

Boom!

I unleashed the Exploding Sword Technique, tearing his body to shreds.

It was a death far too hollow for his martial prowess and reputation.

“I’m done for.”

The relentless battles and the reckless use of the Exploding Light Technique left me wanting to collapse right then and there, but one final task remained.

I picked up the old man’s severed head and shouted.

“The enemy commander is defeated!”

I’d always wanted to try that.