Episode 269: Opening

The martial artists of the orthodox sects infiltrated the various buildings of the Gongdong Sect.

However, the leaders and key masters of each sect did not enter the buildings. Instead, they climbed onto the roof of the central building of the Gongdong Sect.

They were not there to assist in the ambush but to be ready to move wherever help was needed.

An eerie silence hung in the air.

It was the calm before a storm, the stillness of a predator eyeing its prey.

Tang Mujin stood quietly, imagining the scene inside the building.

The orthodox warriors, unable to discern the situation in other buildings, would be standing in the dark, swords drawn, waiting for the signal.

Ilseonja, the leader of the Jongnam Sect, spoke with satisfaction.

“Thanks to the Tang family head’s efforts, we’re off to a good start. Was it called the Bi-Ryun? Truly an impressive skill.”

Ilseonja made no effort to hide his delight.

Yet, Tang Mujin found the situation somewhat unfamiliar.

Orthodox warriors, drawing swords in the dark to ambush sleeping unorthodox fighters—it wasn’t the image one typically had of orthodox martial artists.

But ideals and reality often diverge.

Orthodox warriors are human too. Few would risk their lives and those of their comrades just to uphold their pride.

Sunwooja, the leader of the Mount Hua Sect, shifted his sword from his right hand to his left, wiping the sweat from his right palm on his pants.

Ilseonja chuckled at the sight.

“Nervous?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Hong Geolgae, standing nearby, chimed in.

“I didn’t notice it on Wudang Mountain, but you two seem quite close.”

Sunwooja frowned.

“Who said we’re close?”

“I was talking about you two sect leaders.”

“It seems you’ve been influenced by Ilseonja’s nonsense. Be careful.”

Sunwooja replied curtly, and Ilseonja chuckled.

“Close or not, we’ve known each other for quite some time. Oh, did you know? Sunwooja has almost no real combat experience. He must be a bit scared now. You saw him wiping his hand, right?”

Sunwooja, determined not to get caught up in the conversation, changed the subject.

“Gyuchogae, you said the Ghost King would return next month, right?”

“That’s what I heard.”

“Good. Let’s hope this ends without any issues.”

Everyone fidgeted with their weapons, waiting for the situation to unfold.

Then, a small commotion erupted from a building to the west.

It wasn’t a loud noise, but in the quiet night, it was enough to alert the tense orthodox warriors.

Tang Mujin imagined the scene.

An unorthodox fighter, stirring in his sleep, sensing a presence.

An orthodox warrior, feeling the movement, swinging his sword without hesitation.

Blood splattering, followed by screams and shouts filling the building.

It was just an imagination, but likely not far from reality.

The small disturbance quickly spread to all the buildings of the Gongdong Sect.

In the gap between life and death, chaos erupted everywhere.

”···.”

The men on the roof watched silently.

From the western building, which had first become noisy, orthodox warriors emerged with excited expressions. It seemed they had won without much trouble.

But it was different with the other buildings. Like a dam bursting, orthodox warriors were being pushed out.

Unorthodox fighters, barely dressed, poured out after them.

The unorthodox fighters, using martial arts and sword techniques, were driving back the orthodox warriors.

“There! Over there!”

“Let’s go!”

Sunwooja and Ilseonja leaped into action to support their fellow sect members, followed by Yeongheoja and Tang Mujin’s friends.

“We’re off too!”

“Alright.”

But Tang Mujin remained on the roof, calmly spinning his Bi-Ryun, observing the situation.

An unorthodox fighter attempted to seize a Wudang warrior’s sword and stab him in the chest. Fear was evident in the Wudang warrior’s eyes.

Tang Mujin moved his right arm.

The Bi-Ryun, filled with internal energy, sliced through the night sky, cleanly severing the unorthodox fighter’s neck.

The Bi-Ryun then returned to Tang Mujin’s hand with a flick of his wrist.

In the chaos of battle, it’s rare for someone to be decapitated so cleanly.

The most dramatic spray of blood since the fight began drew many eyes to the headless body of the unorthodox fighter.

“What happened? Who did that?”

The onlookers’ gazes shifted from the Wudang warrior, who had collapsed in front of the corpse, to the roof where the warrior’s eyes were fixed.

There stood Tang Mujin, silhouetted against the crescent moon.

The unorthodox fighters didn’t know who the man on the roof was or how he had managed to decapitate someone from such a distance.

But one thing was clear: that young man possessed a terrifying skill.

The fear of the unknown made it even more frightening. The ability to decapitate someone from dozens of feet away was unnerving.

“Huff, huff!”

The Wudang warrior, who had narrowly escaped death, breathed heavily, his eyes alight with emotion.

The thrill of surviving a near-death experience, the joy of being alive, and the subtle hope that Tang Mujin would save him again if he were in danger.

Emboldened, the Wudang warrior charged back into the fray.

The scent of blood grew stronger. Occasionally, Tang Mujin’s Bi-Ryun would fly through the battlefield, severing heads.

As this continued, more and more people glanced up at the roof.

To the orthodox warriors, Tang Mujin was a reliable ally, but to the unorthodox fighters, he was a source of terror. The fear that their heads might suddenly fly off.

Yet they couldn’t climb the roof to fight him. The orthodox warriors blocked the way, preventing anyone from approaching Tang Mujin.

Thanks to this, Tang Mujin could slowly and carefully observe the battlefield.

Namgung Myung was rampaging with his sword, and Hyun Gong was diving into the most dangerous spots, holding off multiple attacks and maintaining balance.

Hyun Gong’s performance didn’t mean he was overshadowed by Namgung Myung. Every time Hyun Gong absorbed an attack and pushed forward, the enemy’s formation crumbled.

‘Where’s Hong Geolgae?’

Even the slightly worrisome Hong Geolgae was fighting well. Though not as bloody as the others, few could withstand his staff as he moved with the Drunken Eight Immortals Steps.

‘After all, Hong Geolgae once landed a hit on Elder Jang with those steps.’

Beside Hong Geolgae, Yeongheoja’s disciple, Jin Hae, was in a trance, swinging his sword. It seemed he had gained enlightenment in battle and stepped into a new realm.

‘Everyone’s fighting well.’

Just as it seemed the battle would end in their favor, something unexpected happened.

A small building collapsed, revealing a stranger.

He held two blood-stained short spears in his hands.

Not ordinary spears for thrusting, but two short spears with auxiliary blades for slashing.

Yeongheoja, who was climbing back onto the roof, was startled.

“Double-Edged Blood Elder? That old man is still alive?”

Unlike the Tang Mujin of his medical days, the current Tang Mujin knew most of the famous nicknames.

But he had never heard of the Double-Edged Blood Elder.

“Do you know him?”

“Twenty years ago, he was called a monster in the Great War of the Sects. I assumed he had died of old age since there were no stories about him afterward…”

Wondering if he had achieved some form of rejuvenation like the Fire Lotus Immortal, Tang Mujin scrutinized the Double-Edged Blood Elder.

But seeing the wrinkles on his face and hands, it was clear he hadn’t achieved such a feat.

When a supreme master appears, a supreme master must respond.

Yeongheoja sighed.

“I thought I could catch my breath, but it seems I have to fight again. I thought it would be easy without the Ghost King…”

Yeongheoja rushed back into the battlefield, indicating the formidable prowess of the Double-Edged Blood Elder.

With each swing of his two short spears, the orthodox warriors couldn’t hold out for long, and the front lines began to crumble.

When Yeongheoja finally clashed with the Double-Edged Blood Elder, the lines stabilized once more.

‘Huh?’

But it didn’t mean they had the upper hand. Contrary to expectations, the Double-Edged Blood Elder was gaining the upper hand against Yeongheoja.

The Double-Edged Blood Elder wasn’t particularly strong or fast.

But he wielded the two short spears more skillfully than his own arms.

With the auxiliary blade of the left spear, he entangled the opponent’s blade, pushing and pulling, while the right spear targeted the opponent’s neck and heart.

The two spears crossed, blocking, deflecting, and using the difference in weapon length to decapitate someone a little further away.

Indeed, the left hand was like the right, and the right hand was like the left.

A bizarre and unpredictable series of techniques unfolded through the two peculiar weapons. Tang Mujin couldn’t predict the Double-Edged Blood Elder’s next move.

Instead, Tang Mujin watched the Double-Edged Blood Elder closely, waiting for an opportunity.

‘Now!’

Tang Mujin launched two Bi-Ryuns.

The Bi-Ryuns, piercing through the darkness, suddenly veered, targeting the Double-Edged Blood Elder from both sides.

The Double-Edged Blood Elder, about to counter Yeongheoja’s attack, was caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the two Bi-Ryuns.

“Ugh!”

The Double-Edged Blood Elder chose to defend against the two Bi-Ryuns, even if it meant allowing Yeongheoja’s attack.

As the two spears swung through the air, a shallow cut appeared on the chest of the man known as the Twin Blood Elder. It was the work of Youngheo’s sword.

But the wound was not deep. The Twin Blood Elder pointed his spear towards the roof and shouted, “You insolent brat!”

Realizing that Tang Mujin was a more formidable opponent than Youngheo, the Twin Blood Elder attempted to change his target. However, his plan was thwarted almost immediately. Youngheo, having anticipated his intentions, blocked his path with desperate determination.

Furious, the Twin Blood Elder bellowed at Tang Mujin, “You scoundrel! You’ve learned some dark arts, haven’t you?”

Youngheo, with a sly grin, replied on Tang Mujin’s behalf, “Dark arts? The Tang family head merely wields a rather unique weapon.”

“Unique weapon? Anyone can see it’s sorcery!”

“You’ve spent your life mastering exotic weapons, yet you can’t accept someone else’s? How narrow-minded!”

Youngheo maintained a relaxed demeanor, steering the fight with ease. When the goal is to endure rather than to win, the battle becomes much more manageable. He no longer needed to strike the Twin Blood Elder down himself. If he could just hold out, Tang Mujin would find an opening to finish the job.

In the midst of this delicate dance, Youngheo felt a strange sensation—a chilling premonition. It was the kind of instinct the Twin Blood Elder might have felt when facing a formidable foe.

‘Something’s coming from the right.’

Youngheo spun around, sword at the ready, but there was nothing there. Only a monk, crouched in a horse-riding stance, stood about five paces away.

The monk spoke, “I expected to catch something, but this is bigger than I thought.”

The moment Youngheo laid eyes on him, he knew. This was the Ghost King.

The Ghost King, still in his stance, extended his palm from five paces away—a distance far too great for a normal arm to reach.

‘What is this?’

In the next instant, Youngheo felt as if a massive, invisible hand was descending upon him. It wasn’t just an illusion; the grass on the ground was being torn apart by some unseen force. He raised his sword instinctively, but it was clear this was not an attack he could block with mere steel.

Trusting his instincts, Youngheo withdrew his sword and twisted his body, shielding his vital points with his arms and right leg. It was a sound defensive move, but insufficient against this unknown martial art.

A wave of nausea hit him.

Youngheo staggered back, collapsing to his knees and coughing up blood. The internal injury was severe.

Wiping his mouth, he asked, “What was that?”

The Ghost King smirked. “Miljong Daesuin. A technique you’ve likely never heard of.”

The Ghost King resumed his stance. Even with time to prepare, it was a difficult technique to counter, and Youngheo had no such luxury. The Twin Blood Elder charged at him once more.

With two spears in hand, the Twin Blood Elder attacked relentlessly, while the Ghost King, unconcerned for his ally’s safety, unleashed another strike.

Injured and unable to fight at full strength, Youngheo faced the combined assault of two supreme masters.

“Here they come!”

At the critical moment, help arrived. Hyungong, Namgung Myung, and the head of the Mount Hua Sect, Sunwooja, leapt into the fray, intercepting the Twin Blood Elder’s spears.

Hyungong excelled in defense, and Namgung Myung’s heavy sword was unaffected by the chaotic movements of the spears. With Sunwooja’s sword added to the mix, the three were more than a match for the Twin Blood Elder.

Meanwhile, a flying wheel from Tang Mujin disrupted the Ghost King’s stance.

“You…!”

The Ghost King hastily adjusted, swatting at Tang Mujin’s wheel. One wheel grazed his side, but the other was caught in his massive hand.

Only then did Tang Mujin notice the Ghost King’s hand was three times the size of a normal person’s.

‘What? His hands weren’t that big before.’

There was no time to ponder.

The Ghost King resumed his stance, targeting Youngheo with the Miljong Daesuin once more, aiming to eliminate the only supreme master among the righteous warriors.

Youngheo struggled to rise, desperate to evade or defend, but his knees buckled, refusing to support him. To make matters worse, Tang Mujin wasn’t ready to throw another wheel.

Youngheo’s heart sank.

‘I’m going to die…!’

As the Ghost King’s enormous hand loomed, someone leapt in front of Youngheo. It was Ilsunja, the head of the Zhongnan Sect.

A thought crossed Tang Mujin’s mind.

‘Is Ilsunja trying to break through the supreme barrier like Manryeokseung?’

Ilsunja mirrored the Ghost King’s stance, extending his palm towards him.

The Zhongnan Sect’s rising martial art, the Five Thunder True Seal.

While Tang Mujin watched with anticipation, the warriors of the Zhongnan Sect were filled with dread.

They had witnessed Ilsunja’s achievements over decades. Though his accomplishments were remarkable, they were clearly insufficient against the Ghost King.

The Zhongnan warriors hoped their instincts were wrong, that Ilsunja had hidden his true strength, or that a miracle would occur.

But no miracle came. Ilsunja hadn’t stepped forward hoping for a miracle.

His legs firmly planted, Ilsunja declared, “The Zhongnan Sect will…!”

Before he could finish, a tremendous pressure crushed him, as if a giant hand was pressing down.

Ilsunja’s wrist, extended towards the Miljong Daesuin, twisted and shattered. He didn’t even have the chance to display the Thirty-Six Swords of the World he had honed all his life.

His elbows bent backward, shoulders breaking and dislocating.

Yet Ilsunja kept his eyes fixed on the Ghost King, lowering his stance slightly. He drew all his inner strength from his core, his thighs taut with effort.

The immense pressure bore down on him.

Like a small wall, Ilsunja absorbed the Miljong Daesuin with his entire being.

Youngheo, kneeling, shielded himself from the wind with his arms, watching Ilsunja’s back.

”···.”

When the pressure finally lifted, Ilsunja glanced back.

His chest was unnaturally sunken, his ribs undoubtedly shattered.

The hearts of the Zhongnan warriors sank.

Ilsunja’s expression was filled with regret, yet it also bore the pride of a warrior who had fulfilled his duty without retreat.

Ilsunja pondered his final words.

Two supreme masters stood against them, with only one on their side. And Youngheo was in no condition to fight.

The message was clear.

Unable to speak with his shredded lungs, Ilsunja mouthed the words.

Run.

Though silent, everyone heard Ilsunja’s voice.

Ilsunja collapsed, drawing his last breath.

Only then did they realize the great war between the righteous and the demonic had begun.