Episode 256: The Alliance

Ilseonja, a seasoned warrior, could sense something was off with Baek Yahyo’s sudden surge of energy. But the real issue was how swiftly Baek Yahyo acted.

Even if they had drawn their swords simultaneously, the difference in skill was clear, making it difficult to defend against him.

Ilseonja was at a disadvantage, having drawn his sword too late, making it impossible to block Baek Yahyo’s attack.

He hadn’t even fully unsheathed his sword when he felt the cold grip of death.

“I’m going to die!”

Yet, there was one person present who didn’t need to draw a sword.

Manryeokseung, with a tightly clenched fist, struck the side of Baek Yahyo’s blade, diverting its path just enough to graze the ear of Seonwuja, the head of the Hwasan Sect.

“Ouch!”

Blood trickled from Seonwuja’s ear, but among martial artists, such a wound was barely worth mentioning. The three righteous warriors stood up, ready for confrontation.

In the tense standoff, Ilseonja, his voice tinged with anger, shouted, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You came here knowing everything, and now you pretend ignorance? Do you think that changes anything?”

Ilseonja, Seonwuja, and Manryeokseung pondered the meaning behind those words, piecing together the information they had.

Ilseonja’s eyes widened as he exclaimed, “Could it be that you, not some underling from the Gongdong Sect, stole the secret manual?”

Seonwuja and Manryeokseung, reaching the same conclusion, added their voices.

“Now it makes sense. No mere lackey could infiltrate the heart of the Hwasan Sect and steal the manual.”

“Is that why you were late to the Wudang Mountain meeting? You cunning snake!”

Baek Yahyo’s lips twisted into a sneer. The three men’s feigned ignorance was laughable.

“Righteous sect scum. You saw through the plans of the unorthodox martial world and came here, yet you act as if you didn’t. If you were going to pretend, you should’ve at least tried to hide it better. Who would fall for such an obvious trap?”

”…A trap?”

“All those secret manuals scattered outside.”

”…?”

The three righteous warriors exchanged puzzled looks.

Baek Yahyo recognized that expression. It was the look of someone who had completely misunderstood the situation, a look familiar to anyone who had ever taught a student.

Realizing there had been a grave misunderstanding, Baek Yahyo’s face softened into a calm, friendly smile.

”…Wait. It seems there’s been a misunderstanding. How about we talk this over calmly?”

As Baek Yahyo spoke and took a step forward, the three righteous warriors simultaneously stepped back.

Their movement clearly showed they didn’t believe a word he said.

Indeed, the situation had already spiraled out of control with the surprise attack.

And to make matters worse, he had mentioned the unorthodox martial world.

Baek Yahyo cursed his own rashness, but it was too late to take it back.

‘The situation is already half-ruined. To avoid the worst, I need to kill all the intruders from the Gongdong Sect and buy time until reinforcements arrive from the north.’

With his decision made, Baek Yahyo moved swiftly.

Dust rose around the sect leader’s chamber, and a faint tremor spread outwards. The eyes and ears of those outside focused on the Gongdong Sect leader’s chamber.

Baek Yahyo shouted, “Kill them all!”

Dang Mujin and his group were scattered, each searching for the secret manuals hidden by Namgung Myung. Suddenly, all four stopped and looked up.

“Someone’s using advanced footwork.”

If they were merely catching a thief, such force wouldn’t be necessary.

Moreover, only two people came to mind who could display such advanced footwork: Baek Yahyo or Manryeokseung.

A booming voice followed.

“Kill them all!”

At that moment, the unorthodox warriors disguised as Gongdong Sect members drew their swords in unison.

Whatever was happening, one thing was clear: Baek Yahyo and the unorthodox warriors had decided to reveal their true identities.

Dang Mujin and his group instinctively ran towards each other. They were not accustomed to entrusting their backs to anyone else.

“Hong Geolgae! Dang Mujin! Over here!”

Namgung Myung and Hyeon Gong gestured for Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae to join them. The four drew their weapons and surveyed their surroundings.

The Gongdong Sect grounds had become a battlefield. Gongdong Sect warriors and righteous sect warriors clashed with drawn swords.

The Gongdong Sect warriors were at least first-rate, and the righteous sect warriors were all first-rate or higher.

Contrary to the common belief that battles between masters are long and spectacular, martial artists’ fights are often decided in an instant.

As their skills increase, so do the sharpness of their blades, even if their bodies don’t become tougher.

With each flash of a sword, limbs were severed, and blood splattered.

Dang Mujin’s group exchanged glances and then scattered in different directions. There were too many lives at stake to remain huddled like turtles.

‘With so many people mixed together, I can’t use poison techniques.’

Fearing that using poison might kill more righteous warriors, Dang Mujin opted to draw his sword instead.

He spotted a Hwasan Sect warrior on the brink of decapitation. Dang Mujin charged forward, swinging his sword. Namgung Myung, Hyeon Gong, and Hong Geolgae did the same.

Time passed, and Dang Mujin’s group realized something was amiss.

The righteous warriors, despite their high skill level and numbers, should have been gaining the upper hand by now.

Yet the situation was deteriorating. The bodies of both righteous and unorthodox warriors piled up, but the number of unorthodox warriors seemed undiminished.

In fact, the righteous warriors were being surrounded, their ranks tightening.

Dang Mujin, after cutting down another unorthodox warrior, stepped back to catch his breath. Hong Geolgae approached and asked, “What’s going on? There are too many unorthodox warriors!”

“How many do you think there are?”

“I’m not sure. But there still seem to be at least a dozen or so top-tier fighters.”

Unless it’s a particularly large sect like Shaolin, most major sects don’t have more than ten top-tier fighters.

Yet the Gongdong Sect had a dozen or so top-tier unorthodox fighters. Including the fallen, there must have been around twenty.

Only then did Dang Mujin realize the mistake he and his friends had made.

The Gongdong Sect, once a righteous sect, wouldn’t have had such a force.

But under the control of unorthodox warriors, the current Gongdong Sect’s power would naturally surpass its past.

Dang Mujin shouted, “Gather the fallen here!”

Namgung Myung, Hyeon Gong, and Hong Geolgae followed his lead, bringing the wounded to the center.

Dang Mujin’s group surrounded the injured, and the righteous warriors, pushed back by the unorthodox warriors, naturally gravitated towards them.

The righteous warriors formed a circular formation, ready to face the unorthodox warriors.

Both sides paused, assessing each other’s strength.

The righteous warriors’ expressions darkened, while the unorthodox warriors smirked.

Though not an overwhelming gap, the unorthodox warriors realized they had the upper hand.

Someone muttered, “What do we do now?”

“What else can we do? We fight.”

Namgung Myung stepped forward, knowing his skills surpassed most righteous warriors, ready to take the brunt of the unorthodox attack.

Hyeon Gong, like Namgung Myung, also stepped forward, saying, “Those who can’t fight, take cover behind me.”

Many self-proclaimed clever cowards exist, who act wise in normal times but can’t overcome fear in danger. They retreat, unable to conquer their instincts.

But Hyeon Gong, even in such a situation, could think clearly and find a way to survive.

Using the overwhelming defensive power of the Taiji Sword to block the enemy and secure an escape route was Hyeon Gong’s solution.

Unlike Namgung Myung and Hyeon Gong, Hong Geolgae hesitated to step forward. Instead, he whispered to those around him, “Does anyone have any alcohol?”

People looked at Hong Geolgae with disdain.

“It’s not because I like drinking; I need it.”

Naturally, no one had any alcohol. Hong Geolgae sighed and moved closer to Dang Mujin, gripping his staff.

Dang Mujin raised his right hand to check the wind direction. It was blowing from the northwest to the southeast.

Dang Mujin nudged Hyeon Gong aside and moved southeast.

“Go that way.”

Hyeon Gong understood Dang Mujin’s intention and moved in the opposite direction, telling the nearby warriors, “Follow me.”

“No! That’ll break our formation!”

Hyeon Gong clicked his tongue.

“Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae will handle the southeast. We should move in the opposite direction.”

“Just the two of you? That’s absurd. You can’t fight with your back exposed.”

“Whether you like it or not, you’ll have to come this way.”

“What do you mean by that…?”

“Hold your breath before it’s too late.”

Dang Mujin turned his gaze to the southeast.

The rogue martial artists looked at him, bewildered by the situation.

There were no orthodox martial artists among them. At least, none that were still alive.

He had never unleashed his poison technique on so many people before.

But he was confident. What better way to handle a crowd than with poison?

A toxic mist began to rise around Dang Mujin, a result of combining nine different poisons with yin energy from within his body. It was the Guum Jeonghyang.

“Cough, cough!”

Ignoring Hyun Gong’s warning, the orthodox martial artist who had been guarding Dang Mujin quickly retreated.

It didn’t take long to understand why they were told to move away from him.

Even a single breath made their heads spin and their consciousness blur. To make matters worse, the complex web of poison was not easily dispelled.

Hong Geolgae managed to slow his breathing and turn his back to the wind, enduring the Guum Jeonghyang, but others couldn’t get within a few feet of Dang Mujin.

The poison spread southeast with the wind. It was a simple yet insidious method, difficult to counter.

Several less skilled rogue martial artists collapsed after just a few breaths, losing consciousness.

The more adept ones desperately dodged the invisible poison, unsure of which direction to flee or how far to go.

Dang Mujin sent a mental message to Namgung Myung.

• I can’t keep the poison going for long.

• How long can you hold out?

• With Guum Jeonghyang, one quarter of an hour. With the rest of the yang-infused poison, another quarter. No more than half an hour in total. Maybe less.

• Understood.

Namgung Myung let his sword hang loosely in his right hand and advanced toward the rogue martial artists.

Inside the chamber, a desperate battle was unfolding. The walls were half-collapsed, and Ilseonja and Seonwooja were covered in thin, bloody lines.

Despite their injuries, they couldn’t inflict any real damage on Baek Yahyo. All they could do was keep him from joining the chaos outside.

Baek Yahyo spoke with a calm demeanor.

“You’re wasting your time. Even without my interference, can’t you sense how things are going outside?”

“That’s something we’ll have to see for ourselves.”

Ilseonja glanced back, not at the situation outside, but at Manryeokseung standing a step behind.

For some reason, Manryeokseung hadn’t actively joined the fight against Baek Yahyo. He only intervened in critical moments to defend.

Even if Manryeokseung joined in, there was no guarantee they could overpower Baek Yahyo.

But it was better than this frustrating stalemate. A quick resolution was preferable.

Just then, Baek Yahyo and the two leaders sensed a change outside the chamber.

The brief silence was replaced by renewed chaos, and faint traces of poison seeped into the room.

‘Poison?’

The poison wasn’t strong enough to be dangerous, but the problem was not knowing who had released it.

In such situations, it’s often assumed that the one using strange tactics is an enemy.

Ilseonja and Seonwooja’s swords grew more urgent. They were ready to risk everything to subdue Baek Yahyo and rush outside.

Baek Yahyo also found the poison suspicious. He took a deep breath and raised his sword.

“It’s time to wrap this up and head out.”

He focused his mind, twisting his wrist to angle the blade sideways.

It was as if he was signaling an impending horizontal slash.

The move was the Hawk’s Claw Sword technique, Nakbong.

The sword accelerated explosively, like a transparent string snapping, hurtling toward Ilseonja and Seonwooja.

They expected something, but not such a sudden burst of speed. Baek Yahyo’s sword path was bizarre, more like a predator’s talon than a sword technique.

Ilseonja, having narrowly escaped death from Baek Yahyo’s strikes before, instinctively knew that trying to block it could be fatal.

But Seonwooja was different. Having never faced a life-threatening situation, he believed he could find a way out this time too.

This difference in judgment led to a divergence in their actions.

They should have either dodged together or blocked together, but Ilseonja ducked to avoid the strike while Seonwooja raised his sword to block it.

Baek Yahyo’s sword twisted sharply, targeting a small crack in Seonwooja’s blade.

Whether it deflected the sword and cut his throat or shattered the blade and took his life, Baek Yahyo was confident.

At that moment, Manryeokseung, who had been standing back, lowered his stance and extended his right arm.

It was a simple palm technique, not particularly fast. It seemed it would only reach its target after Baek Yahyo’s sword had already struck Seonwooja.

But Manryeokseung’s hand suddenly accelerated, grasping Baek Yahyo’s sword.

”!”

Baek Yahyo was startled and tried to pull his sword free.

If Manryeokseung had pushed, pressed, or deflected the sword, Baek Yahyo might have thought it was sheer luck.

But catching the sword was a different matter entirely. It was as if Manryeokseung, who hadn’t even reached the pinnacle, was overwhelming Baek Yahyo.

Even as Baek Yahyo infused his sword with internal energy and pulled, he couldn’t free it from Manryeokseung’s grip.

Manryeokseung smiled as he spoke.

“This is the Plum Deer Offering Flower technique. Isn’t Shaolin’s martial arts remarkable?”

Baek Yahyo and Manryeokseung locked eyes.

In that moment, Baek Yahyo realized.

At the start of the fight, Manryeokseung had been on the verge of reaching the pinnacle. But without anyone noticing, without any sign, he had crossed into the realm beyond.

It wasn’t something that could be explained away as a quiet epiphany.

Manryeokseung hadn’t just stepped into the pinnacle. He had surged ahead, leaving Baek Yahyo a few steps behind.

Neither Baek Yahyo nor Ilseonja and Seonwooja could comprehend the situation.

Martial arts is a process of advancing step by step, layer by layer.

Some can take the next step quickly, some need ten years for a single step, and some never move forward. The commonality is the gradual progress.

But Manryeokseung was different. He had skipped the intermediate steps entirely.

It was like planting seeds and immediately seeing ripe rice stalks sprout from the ground. An impossible sight.

Baek Yahyo twisted his sword desperately. But Manryeokseung’s firm grip didn’t budge. Eventually, Manryeokseung moved his wrist and broke Baek Yahyo’s sword.

Only the tip was broken, so the fight could continue.

But Baek Yahyo knew. He couldn’t win.

“How… how did you do it?”

Manryeokseung laughed.

“For nearly ten years, I wasn’t unable to reach the pinnacle. I chose not to.”

As Manryeokseung stepped forward, Ilseonja and Seonwooja instinctively moved aside, clearing the way.

But Baek Yahyo couldn’t step aside. Manryeokseung was approaching him.

Baek Yahyo swung his broken sword, shouting.

“That’s impossible!”

“Of course it is.”

Manryeokseung broke Baek Yahyo’s sword again. Now only five inches of blade remained.

Ten years ago, Manryeokseung stood at the brink of the pinnacle. He was ready to take the next step if he wished.

But his master, the Divine Monk, held his shoulder and stood beside him, assessing the path ahead.

The goal was singular: to advance straighter, faster, and further than anyone else.

To come closest to Bodhidharma.

Manryeokseung wasn’t impatient.

He simply followed his master’s advice, spending ten years without taking a single step, contemplating his path.

For ten years, he envisioned himself.

He imagined himself racing to the end without a single misstep.

The praise of being the closest to the Six Sages turned into mockery for being only close.

It was something beyond the patience and temperament of ordinary people.

Manryeokseung sat before a blank canvas, holding his brush for ten years.

And today, he wielded that brush.

In one stroke, he wrote his poem to the end, sprinting as far as he could in a single breath.

Having quietly refined his understanding over the years, he needed no dramatic epiphany like others.

He had no reason to stumble over obstacles like others.

“Does it seem impossible? It might, from the perspective of conventional martial arts.”

Baek Yahyo had nowhere to retreat.

Manryeokseung smiled.

“But in Shaolin, it’s possible.”

Manryeokseung’s hand slowly reached out and gently cradled Baek Yahyo’s face.