Chapter 9

Gamsang-cheong's eyes were literally blazing red. He held his sword and walked steadily, passing the dead horse, and stopped at a distance of about a zhang from Jang-geon. In those blazing eyes, Jang-geon could sense anger, hatred, and surprisingly, some sorrow.

His disheveled hair from riding frantically, his clothes stained with the blood of his subordinates and the horse, and his body trembling with the power of his inner energy. Jang-geon suddenly recalled that he had not spoken much with this man except to confirm his name, Gamsun-deok.

So he asked abruptly, "Why was Jin Yang-shik with you?"

"…What the hell are you curious about? Are you trying to buy time?"

Jang-geon, holding the scabbard at his waist with his left hand, stood with one leg slightly bent. He pointed with his chin in the direction where the bandits who had tripped and fallen to their deaths lay. "He was among them. I thought he was dead."

Gamsang-cheong growled. "I don't care if that bastard lives or dies. He was begging for help because his brother was about to be hanged. Now, what you should be worried about is not that scum but your own neck."

Jang-geon chuckled and spat out the dust that had filled his mouth from the ride. "You're desolate."

"My sword will be even more desolate when it cuts your neck, you bastard."

As he said this, Gamsang-cheong began to lower his stance. His left foot extended forward, his weight on his right foot, and he raised his sword-wielding right hand to his chest. His left hand formed a sword grip and pointed at Jang-geon. It was a thrusting stance.

Jang-geon's stance was not as dynamic. He turned his body sideways, his head facing forward, and his sword in his right hand rested on the left side of his waist, near the scabbard. Though he did not sheathe the sword, it was a basic defensive stance.

Gamsang-cheong, his body trembling with surging inner energy, was breathing heavily, while Jang-geon was as calm as still water, their eyes locked on each other.

Gamsang-cheong's breathing grew more intense. His entire sword blade began to tremble, and a faint light seemed to emanate from it. The tip of his extended left foot dug into the ground, leaving a deep footprint. His low stance became even lower, and he growled like a beast. His red eyes looked dangerous.

In the midst of the vast wilderness under a high sky, only the blazing sun and the slowly drifting white clouds watched them.

At some point, unable to contain his surging inner energy, Gamsang-cheong let out a roar. "Aaaah!"

It was unclear whether it was during or at the end of his roar, but the two of them brushed past each other.

A long, horizontal wound appeared on Jang-geon's left cheek, and blood trickled down. He glanced at his sword blade and saw a deep notch in the middle.

"Damn it."

He cursed, gripped the sword with both hands, and quickly turned around. Though he had not lost, he had not been able to cut Gamsang-cheong. He saw Gamsang-cheong, who had also turned quickly, with a thin red line on his neck. It was shallow.

Unlike Jang-geon's calm face, Gamsang-cheong, who had unleashed his inner energy, had a wildly excited expression, his teeth bared. White foam dripped from the corners of his mouth, and his face and hands were flushed with blood vessels.

The sword, which had been blurry, now glowed clearly. A dark red light flowed along the blade. It was sword qi.

"You crazy bastard, how much inner energy do you have?"

Jang-geon muttered this, but a sinister smile appeared on his face without him realizing it. In this land, even those called experts rarely used sword qi. The reason was that they didn't need to emit such energy to kill people. Some even called those who couldn't control their own energy fools.

In the end, even when Jang-geon was learning martial arts in the Central Plains and during the few years he had been in this land, he had never seen actual sword qi. Standing face to face with this formidable manifestation of inner energy, Jang-geon couldn't explain why he was smiling. His heart was racing.

Gamsang-cheong roared again and charged, swinging his sword. Jang-geon, gripping the sword firmly with both hands, deflected it. The sword blade and sword qi met, and sparks flew. Another large notch appeared on the sword blade.

With eyes that seemed to spout flames, Gamsang-cheong swung his sword wildly, filled with surging inner energy. Though the speed and accuracy of the first strike were lacking, the power was more than sufficient. However, the movements were too simple and basic, allowing Jang-geon to deflect them with both hands, though with difficulty.

"Ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha-ha!"

Gamsang-cheong, seemingly out of his mind, laughed without context as he swung his sword. Blood vessels in his eyes burst, and blood tears streamed down his face, a sight that was truly grotesque.

After deflecting Gamsang-cheong's attacks a few more times, Jang-geon, who had felt his heart race earlier, realized there was nothing special about it. The attacks of this strong, crazy man were too easy. Though the sword blade had notches, the sword qi, imbued with inner energy, could not cut through the metal in one strike.

Jang-geon felt no need to waste more time.

He pressed his sword blade against Gamsang-cheong's descending sword and pushed it. As Gamsang-cheong's sword slid along the blade, it deeply cut into his neck. In a reflexive action, Gamsang-cheong lifted the tip of his sword to Jang-geon's blade, a basic defensive move.

As a result, Jang-geon and Gamsang-cheong faced each other, their weapons forming a cross. Despite the surging inner energy, Gamsang-cheong's eyes, wide with surprise, looked at Jang-geon. Jang-geon, smiling, let go of his sword and punched Gamsang-cheong in the side.

"Ugh!"

A series of rapid punches followed, striking the other side, the jaw, and the chest. Gamsang-cheong's sword and Jang-geon's sword, having lost their support, fell to the ground with a clatter. Clutching the injured areas, Gamsang-cheong staggered backward, unable to regain his senses. Jang-geon stood calmly in the spot where he had attacked, watching him.

Gamsang-cheong, hunched over, lifted his head.

"Damn it... You, you bastard! Dropping your sword, such a despicable— cough!"

He suddenly spat blood, though Jang-geon had not attacked. He tried to block the gushing blood with his hand, but it flowed between his fingers. Feeling the warm, sticky blood on his hand and the churning in his insides, he exclaimed in shock.

"You, you! This is, Jincheon Quan...! The fist technique of the Imperial Army...!"

"It's not Jincheon Quan. It's a technique I created."

"What, what the hell is that...?"

Jang-geon had no intention of explaining this slowly. He shrugged and delivered a roundhouse kick. Gamsang-cheong's jaw made a cracking sound as it spun half a circle. His eyes glazed over.

Jang-geon, hearing the thud of the body hitting the ground, brushed the dust off his pants. As he looked at the body lying face down, he saw the blood spreading. It was as hot and sticky as the scorching ground.

After a moment, Jang-geon turned and picked up the sword from the ground. The notches made it more suitable for sawing than cutting. He shook it off and sighed.

"I need to buy a new one."

He sheathed the sword and checked for any fatal wounds on his body, sighing again. He then looked at the scattered bodies from the distant hill. Defeating thirty bandits alone, two of whom were madmen, was a feat any martial artist could boast about.

But it also meant he had killed thirty people in one place. There was no other word for it but mass murderer. With a deep frown, he looked at the wilderness, where Zazao approached. The horse snorted lightly and nudged Jang-geon's arm.

This made Jang-geon chuckle.

"What's with you? Are you tired from the ride?"

He stroked the horse's neck and then approached the body to behead Gamsang-cheong. As he gripped the sword handle, he noticed something in the distant western wilderness. Jang-geon, despite his fatigue, infused his eyes with inner energy.

Two riders were approaching, kicking up a cloud of dust. They were wearing large straw hats and wide windbreakers, making it impossible to identify them. However, Jang-geon felt they were not new bandits.

But he couldn't rely solely on intuition and remain unprepared. He gripped the scabbard with his left hand and faced the approaching riders. Squinting against the dust and the glaring sun, he waited. Soon, they were close.

They stopped at a distance of about three zhang. Jang-geon thought they looked a bit surprised. It was understandable, given the more than ten bodies scattered around. They stopped and looked around, as if searching for Jang-geon's companions.

After a moment, the one with a sword on his back stepped forward and asked, "Did you kill all of them?"

It was a low voice for a woman, but not unpleasant. Jang-geon, still squinting from the sun, spat out the dust in his mouth and replied, "Yes."

He felt her gaze flick to the sword at his waist. She sat on her horse, looking at Jang-geon without a word, then dismounted.

"Senior!"

The other one, surprised, called out to her, but she walked steadily toward Jang-geon. One zhang. For an expert, it was a distance of just an arm's reach. She walked confidently and stopped.

With the same decisive movement, she untied the chin strap and removed her straw hat. A large scar ran across her face, and there were scars on her cheek and chin. Despite the scars, she was a beautiful woman with a clear face.

She squinted at Jang-geon, just as he did at the sun. They looked at each other in silence for a moment.

Finally, the woman spoke. "I am Jeokse-in, Patrol Team 71 of the Martial Arts Alliance. Who are you?"

"Jang-geon."

Jeokse-in nodded and gestured to the bodies on the ground. "Gamsang-cheong?"

"Before that, you should show me something to prove who you are."

Her gaze returned to Jang-geon. "What?"

"Patrol teams have identification badges, don't they?"

She nodded and pulled out a hexagonal badge from her robe, showing it to Jang-geon. It read "Martial Arts" with "71" written in small letters below. After Jang-geon confirmed it, she put the badge back and approached Gamsang-cheong's body. She flipped the body over and began searching through the blood-soaked clothes.

"…What are you doing?"

"Looking for a secret manual of evil techniques. That's why we were dispatched to chase these guys."

The other man, who had dismounted, answered with a smile. He had small, squinting eyes that drooped, giving him a dull appearance. While Jang-geon was thinking about the situation, Jeokse-in found a thin book in Gamsang-cheong's clothes and held it up.

She quickly flipped through it and threw it to the man. "It's the one we were looking for. Burn it."

The man nodded, placed the book on the ground, and pulled out a small metal bottle from his robe, pouring its contents, which smelled like oil, over the book. He then took out a flint and struck it, igniting the oil. The fire spread slowly, and a smoky smell filled the air.

After confirming the book was burning, Jeokse-in approached Jang-geon again.

"You must be the one who killed the Red Silk Sect's Third Leader a day's journey west of here. If Gamsang-cheong is dead, Yimang-kyeong must be dead too."

"Yimang-kyeong?"

"Red Silk Sect's Second Leader."

Jang-geon nodded toward the hill. "He's over there."

Jeokse-in nodded and called to the man who was lighting the fire. "Sanho, go check if there are any other secret manuals."

"Y-Yes...? Ah, yes. If Senior orders, I must obey."

Sanho, looking annoyed, wiped his nose and remounted his horse. The horse, like its rider, moved in a casual, almost lazy manner toward the hill.

Jang-geon, seeing Jeokse-in nod, asked, "You were chasing these guys?"

"Yes. The Martial Arts Alliance's patrol team. By the way, I'm grateful for your help in dealing with the madmen. It was our job, but we were a bit late."

"Gratitude is fine, but since you're from the Martial Arts Alliance, I have a question."

Jeokse-in nodded. "Ask away. I'll answer honestly."

"Can I get a reward from you?"

"…A reward?"

Jang-geon raised his right hand and stroked his chin. "There's a bounty on these guys' heads, right? But I don't know where the Martial Arts Alliance is around here, and I can't carry dozens of heads around. Who would do that?"

"Ah… That's true. Fortunately, I have the authority to do that. However, I only have bonds right now… If you want cash, you'll have to go to a merchant guild or an imperial city later."

Jang-geon, pondering the word "bonds," eventually nodded. He would find a way to exchange them eventually. If he went to a Martial Arts Alliance branch and they didn't have enough cash, they would give him bonds anyway.

Jeokse-in led her horse over and took a thick stack of paper from the saddlebag, handing it to Jang-geon. "This is for hunting the madmen and helping the patrol team. You did a great job, Jang-geon."

Jang-geon, finding the title amusing, roughly counted the papers. They were small bonds issued by the empire and the merchant guild. Paper money. Jang-geon, having destroyed all the chaos converging on the city walls and continued the thousand-year reign of the empire, could indirectly feel the empire's power even in this place, thousands of miles away.

In any case, making a fair amount of money from bandits he didn't even know the value of made him feel good. Jang-geon tapped the stack of bonds in his other hand and put it in Zazao's saddlebag, then turned to Jeokse-in.

"Is there anything else you need?"

"…I don't think so."

"Alright. Then."

Jang-geon immediately turned and mounted Zazao. Before Jeokse-in could say anything, he took off. Jeokse-in, seeing him leave so cleanly and almost heartlessly, opened her mouth in surprise and then laughed.

His figure, neither fast nor slow, gradually disappeared into the eastern wilderness. Despite the situation, he looked more like a traveler than a martial artist who had just cut down thirty bandits.

"…Should we just let him go? Shouldn't we at least search him? He might have taken another secret manual."

Sanho, who had returned after confirming Jang-geon's departure, looked at him and asked. Jeokse-in shook her head.

"There was no need. His martial arts were stronger than the evil techniques. Would someone who destroyed a technique with their own hands, especially one that corrupts the mind, learn it? No, he wouldn't. Besides, we need to find some informants in this area."

"Really? Informants? Will they let us use them? And what do you want to find out?"

Jeokse-in was smiling with interest.

"I confirmed from Gamsang-cheong's body that his insides were crushed."

"…Crushed insides. He had a sword, right?"

"He also had two hands."

Sanho frowned. "Crushed insides and two hands… Jincheon Quan? Are you saying he's from the Imperial Army?"

"I want to find out. And there's a place we need to go first."

Sanho gave an awkward smile. "Why so many things to do? Let's just do it reasonably, Senior."

Jeokse-in silently extended her hand toward Sanho. A piece of paper shot out from her sleeve like an arrow. Sanho caught it calmly and unfolded it.

"What's this? I've only seen the map of our alliance. External maps are a bit…?"

"It's a map of the Red Silk Sect's hideout, found on Gamsang-cheong."

"…Ah. To loot their treasures?"

Jeokse-in, mounting her