Episode 122: The Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms

Once the battle was over and Namgung Jincheon had left, Chusam and Dan Seol-young, who had been watching from a distance, hurried over.

Dan Seol-young was horrified when she saw Namgung Myung’s injury.

“Who the hell was that crazy guy, cutting off someone’s arm like it’s nothing? If he’s going to leave, he should at least do it nicely.”

“He’s my father.”

“Your father is quite bold. I’m sure he had his reasons.”

Chusam moved among the wounded of the Jeomchang Sect, checking their conditions.

However, due to the nature of the Jeomchang warriors, who fought without regard for their own lives, there were more fatalities than injuries. As a result, the treatment didn’t take long. Whether that was fortunate or unfortunate was hard to say.

Dang Moo-jin examined Namgung Myung’s wound again before approaching the Jeomchang warriors. He intended to help with the aftermath for the deceased.

But Wi Hwan shook his head.

“You don’t need to help us.”

“But…”

Dang Moo-jin hesitated. The attack by the Three-Eyed Buddha had been because of him, not the Jeomchang warriors.

‘If they hadn’t been involved with me, no one would have died.’

Dang Moo-jin couldn’t shake off his guilt. Yet Wi Hwan remained calm.

“Funerals are for the dead, but they’re also for the living. Please leave the final rites to the brothers.”

Only then did Dang Moo-jin realize. Despite losing a brother, not a single Jeomchang warrior showed any resentment towards him. Such deaths were all too familiar to them.

They were people who could throw themselves into danger without hesitation if they had a goal. Their attitude towards death was naturally different from others.

Dang Moo-jin stood a little apart, watching the Jeomchang warriors.

They dug graves side by side, burying the bodies of the fallen along with the swords they had wielded in life. It was a simple, unadorned funeral, fitting for the straightforward nature of the Jeomchang warriors.

After observing the funeral, Dang Moo-jin returned to his group. Namgung Myung, Hong Geol-gae, Dan Seol-young, and Chusam were all there. It was a stroke of luck that none of the five had died.

However, as time passed, the group’s attention naturally focused on Namgung Myung. Specifically, on his left arm, which had been severed just below the shoulder.

Dang Moo-jin once again applied pressure to the area around Namgung Myung’s arm. The bleeding hadn’t completely stopped, but only a drop fell occasionally.

Dang Moo-jin took a black cloth from Namgung Myung’s pack and wrapped it around the wound.

Namgung Myung grimaced in pain, his complexion pale. He had lost a lot of blood, and the injury was severe even without the bleeding.

Dang Moo-jin felt guilty. It was as if he had ruined the promising future of a young martial artist.

If only I were a bit more skilled. If I could have held off the Three-Eyed Buddha’s attack alone.

Or even if I could have just held out a few more breaths until the others arrived. Then Namgung Myung’s left arm would still be intact.

“I’m sorry. This happened because I wasn’t good enough.”

Dang Moo-jin apologized sincerely, unlike his usual self, and Namgung Myung responded calmly.

“At least you know your limits… But it’s fine. I expected something like this might happen.”

“You expected it?”

“Yeah. It’s not easy to handle even one top-tier fighter, and we had to travel with a whole group of them. Mathematically, it was bound to be a journey ten times harder.”

Over the past few months, ever since Namgung Myung had broken through to the peak, similar conversations had occurred dozens, if not hundreds, of times.

Each time, Dang Moo-jin would half-jokingly throw a punch, and Namgung Myung would either dodge or deflect it lightly. From jokes to punches to evasions, it had all become a natural rhythm.

So, once again, Dang Moo-jin reflexively swung a punch at Namgung Myung.

But today, Namgung Myung’s reaction was different. It had to be. He moved his left arm, but there was nothing below the upper arm.

Dang Moo-jin’s fist landed on Namgung Myung’s side without any resistance. The dull sensation of the impact made Dang Moo-jin realize what he had done.

It wasn’t a powerful punch, but Namgung Myung grimaced in pain, clutching his side and taking a deep breath.

“Hoo…”

Before Dang Moo-jin could apologize, Namgung Myung exhaled deeply.

“It’s… It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

Hearing this, Dang Moo-jin collapsed to the ground, clutching his head with both hands.

“What have I done…”

While Dang Moo-jin’s gaze was fixed on the ground, Namgung Myung chuckled darkly.

The complex situation, the pain in his left arm, or the sense of loss could be dealt with later.

Namgung Myung was always someone who lived in the moment, and he decided to enjoy this situation while he could. That’s why he had deliberately taken the punch, and the effect was excellent.

Dan Seol-young and Hong Geol-gae, watching Namgung Myung, looked exasperated.

But neither of them bothered to explain the situation to Dang Moo-jin. After all, it was a prank that could only be enjoyed after sacrificing an arm. Namgung Myung had earned the right to tease Dang Moo-jin for a while.

However, Dang Moo-jin had no way of noticing Namgung Myung’s expression.

“If I were just a bit more skilled. If I could have held out just a little longer until the elders arrived, this wouldn’t have happened…”

“You don’t need to feel sorry. It’s not like a mere first-rate fighter like you cut off my arm. It was the combined effort of the Three-Eyed Buddha and my father, two supreme masters. In that sense, it’s an honorable wound. The only problem is that since it’s my left arm that’s missing, people might mistake me and my uncle for father and son.”

Even after hearing Namgung Myung’s joke, Dang Moo-jin’s expression didn’t lighten. He didn’t know how to respond.

Seeing this, Namgung Myung chuckled.

“If you feel bad, make me a new arm later.”

“A prosthetic? I can make one, but what’s the point of such an arm?”

If anyone were to make a prosthetic, there were no better experts than Dang Moo-jin and Dan Seol-young. Dang Moo-jin’s craftsmanship was unparalleled, and Dan Seol-young was a genius at designing and creating unfamiliar objects.

They even had plenty of experience. The two had made countless wooden arms while constructing the wooden puppet.

However, such an arm wouldn’t move like a real one. It wouldn’t be able to grip a sword properly and would just hang limply, swinging awkwardly.

“It doesn’t matter if it can’t move. Even if the sky falls, there’s always a way out, and with some luck, it might turn into a blessing in disguise.”

Namgung Myung said this and lay back down. Despite his confident demeanor, it seemed it would take quite some time to get used to the emptiness of his left arm.

That night, Hong Geol-gae met with Geol-seon.

“Master, I’m Hong Joo-san from Jueul Village. My teacher told me to seek you out and learn martial arts.”

“Who is your teacher?”

“Master Daepunggae.”

“Daepunggae? Hmm. I didn’t know Paengcheon had taken a disciple.”

Geol-seon trusted Daepunggae.

Initially, he had been intrigued by a Taoist from Kunlun joining the Beggars’ Sect, but Daepunggae had proven to be quite capable in many ways.

Daepunggae could read the heavens and had a keen eye for people. He was a remarkable talent, one that couldn’t be hidden even if he wanted to be.

If Daepunggae had taken a disciple, then this Hong Joo-san must also possess considerable talent.

However, Geol-seon couldn’t understand why Daepunggae had chosen Hong Geol-gae as his disciple.

He had achieved quite a bit at a young age, but that was all. His accomplishments and physique weren’t bad, but there were plenty of beggars at a similar level.

‘He doesn’t seem like someone who could be the next leader.’

Each leader of the Beggars’ Sect had their own way of choosing a successor. The previous leader simply chose a beggar he liked, while the one before that chose based on martial talent.

But Geol-seon hadn’t yet chosen a successor. The position of successor was too significant to decide hastily.

The successor was the leader’s heir, the second-in-command of the Beggars’ Sect, and could shape the future of the sect for the next generation. It was a decision that required careful consideration.

However, he couldn’t leave the position vacant forever, so Geol-seon chose a different approach.

Instead of selecting one person as the successor, he decided to teach martial arts to several promising individuals and wait for someone to stand out.

Each time, the technique he taught was predetermined.

“I’ll show you the first technique of the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms, ‘The Dragon Has Regrets.’ Watch and learn.”

Geol-seon lowered his stance and slowly rotated his arms.

After a moment, a sound like a drumbeat echoed as the air burst forth.

The next morning, Geol-seon left without hesitation.

“If fate allows, we’ll meet again. If we do, I’ll teach you the next technique.”

“Thank you, Master.”

Hong Geol-gae bowed respectfully as he saw Geol-seon off.

Once Geol-seon was gone, Hong Geol-gae’s expression turned somber.

The previous night, Geol-seon had demonstrated the technique ‘The Dragon Has Regrets’ to Hong Geol-gae. It was a powerful martial art, but there was a significant problem. Geol-seon had only shown the technique once.

Hong Geolgae wanted to ask to see it again, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. The certainty in Geolseon’s eyes stopped him.

The certainty that said, “I showed you once, so of course you’ve mastered it, right?”

To achieve such a feat, one would need to be more than just talented; they would have to be a genius of the highest order.

The problem was that Geolseon was precisely that kind of genius, while Hong Geolgae was not.

A sense of frustration welled up in Hong Geolgae’s chest. He felt foolish for having gone to such lengths to seek out Geolseon.

In fact, the only thought filling Hong Geolgae’s mind now was that he never wanted to see Geolseon again.

If they met again, Geolseon would undoubtedly want to see his progress with the Hangryong Yuhui technique. Hong Geolgae would have to flail around awkwardly, trying to mimic the Hangryong Shibpaljang like a fool, and Geolseon would surely look at him with disappointment. The thought of Geolseon’s disappointed expression terrified him.

As Hong Geolgae sighed, Namgung Myung, who was walking beside him, asked, “Why the long face?”

Hong Geolgae was about to brush it off with a vague excuse, but then he changed his mind. Seeing Namgung Myung, who seemed even more downcast than himself, made his own worries feel trivial.

“Actually…”

But Namgung Myung’s response was unexpected.

“If you didn’t get it the first time, should I show you again?”

“What?”

“Last night, I pretended to be asleep and watched.”

Namgung Myung stopped walking, lowered his stance, and slowly rotated his arms.

It wasn’t the majestic display of the Hangryong Yuhui with both arms, but considering the absence of his left arm, the movements were remarkably similar.

Finally, Namgung Myung thrust his right arm forward.

With a sound like a drumbeat, a wave of energy tore through the air.