Chapter 31
Benefactor (2)
The bandits of Seolbong Stronghold widened their eyes as they spotted the Jin family’s banners and carriages.
“Isn’t it said the Jin family’s carriages are loaded with gold and jewels?!”
“And every chest is stuffed with silks too, Boss!”
Was the Jin trading company that famous?
Even for mere bandits, they knew quite a lot.
“And what was it again… ah, right! Dyes—! They say that stuff’s worth a fortune, Boss!”
“Keh-heh-heh. All of it will be ours. Every last bit.”
Makbung encouraged his underlings with a triumphant roar.
“You know what to do. Strip them clean. This is our chance to score big—! But listen, boys. Don’t die. You get what I mean? Only the ones who die lose out. Keh-heh-heh.”
Only a year ago, Seolbong Stronghold hadn’t even been worthy of being called a stronghold—just a ragtag bunch of thugs.
Their saviors had been the masked figures now standing behind Makbung.
He relied entirely on them.
It was thanks to their power that they had swept through all the rabble across the two-hundred-li range of Seolbong Mountain and established Seolbong Stronghold.
“Puhuhuh. Of course, Boss.”
“Ha-ha-ha. Gotta live to enjoy it, eh—!”
They moved in perfect sync.
Without a sound, the bandits split into two groups.
They blocked the front and rear of the Jin caravan’s long line of wagons.
‘Just a little closer. Just a little more—!’
Makbung’s fists tightened as the Jin caravan fell deeper into their encirclement.
And then—
‘Now!’
Satisfied with the trap, Makbung sprang into action.
Piiiiiit!
He leapt up, blowing hard on his whistle, and charged forward.
At once—
“Attack—!”
“Yaaaahhh—!”
“Keh-ha-ha-ha! Run if you want to live—!”
“That’s right! We never kill anyone who runs away—! Hyaaaahhh!”
“Stretch your necks out long, you bastards—!”
From the front and back of the caravan, a hundred Seolbong bandits poured out.
A terrifying sight.
Enough to make even the bravest shudder, but the Jin caravan remained calm.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whooosh.
The bandits charged, swinging cleavers, iron clubs, and spiked maces—horrific weapons to behold.
But the caravan guards only smirked coldly, even snorting.
“Hm? Bandits in Seolbong Mountain?”
“Ridiculous—! How dare you stand against the Jin caravan?!”
“Puhuhuhu. Pathetic fools—!”
“Out of nowhere some nobodies pop up and think they can act tough?”
Their laughter quickly faded.
Two men stepped forward, seizing control of the sudden situation.
“Escort Division—! Step forward—!”
“Guards, draw your weapons and protect the goods—!”
It was the Jin family’s third young master, Jin Jo-yeon, and the leader of the Third Escort Division, Jang Won-pyeong.
“We’re ready—!”
“Leave it to us—!”
Though the escort squad numbered only fifty, smiles danced on their faces.
All were seasoned warriors. Unknown mountain bandits held no terror for them.
“Show no mercy—!”
“Cut them all down—!”
Jin Jo-yeon and Jang Won-pyeong barked their commands coldly.
“Cut them all down—!”
“Come, you ignorant scum—!”
“Haaaahp—!”
The two sides clashed.
The clang of weapons and bursts of sparks filled the air.
And then—
Thud-thud-thud! Slash!
“Graaahh!”
Clang! Shkkt!
“Urghh!”
Bloodcurdling screams rang out.
All from the Seolbong bandits. Their earlier momentum was meaningless—they fell one after another, utterly outmatched.
“Uwaaa—! Great One—!”
Makbung cried out to his trump card.
“Great One, save meee—!”
“Hah, I’m your Great One, you pig. Stretch out your neck nice and long—!”
Even after only a single exchange, Makbung was being driven back by Jang Won-pyeong’s ferocious assault.
Clang! Clang! Pfft! Pfft!
“Ugh—! Ughh!”
He staggered backward helplessly, blood spurting from wounds all over his body.
Despite his inner strength at the first-class level and the ability to wield a thirty-catty cleaver like a twig, he couldn’t withstand even a single strike from a master of Jang’s caliber.
Finally—
Kraaaang—!
“Kh-hhhk.”
Jang’s inner-force-charged blow knocked the wind out of him. His cleaver flew skyward.
“Die—!”
Seizing the opening, Jang thrust his sword straight at Makbung’s chest.
A true moment of crisis.
In the blink of an eye, Makbung’s heart would be pierced and he’d die instantly…
Whoooosh—!
A fierce gust of wind swept through as a blurred shadow slid between Jang and Makbung.
Claaang—!
With ease, it deflected Jang’s deadly thrust.
“Wha—?!”
Jang staggered back three full steps from the sheer rebound force.
“Wh-who are you?!”
Before him stood a strange figure wearing an ashen mask.
Jang’s heart pounded violently.
‘I didn’t even see him move…’
It was instinct.
With just a single exchange, he knew this was a powerful and terrifying foe.
‘So the “Great One” that bandit chief screamed for… he meant this man.’
He realized too late.
“Which of you is Jin Jo-yeon?”
Flinch.
Jang’s pupils quivered ominously.
‘C-could it be… his target is…?’
He shouted with all his inner strength.
“Escort Division—! Suspicious enemies are after the Young Master—! Protect him—!”
“Young Master—! Be careful—!”
“Back off, you fiends—!”
“Haaaahhh!”
Proving their training and experience, the escorts broke from their fights and rallied to Jin Jo-yeon’s side, forming a protective ring.
“Keh-heh-heh. Perfect.”
The white-masked figure grinned slyly.
As if by unspoken agreement, the five ash-masked shadows surged toward where Jin Jo-yeon stood.
“Wh-what—?!”
Spinning around, Jang saw a horrifying sight.
“Guaaahh!”
“Urghhh!”
“Ghhhaaaahh!”
Blood sprayed like fountains as desperate screams filled the air.
The heads, arms, and legs of his comrades—men he had fought beside for over a decade—were flying.
“You bastards—!”
Jang charged in a frenzy.
But even with his back wide open, the white-masked man didn’t strike him.
“Keh-heh-heh. Yes, that’s it. You have to try to save him. That’s what makes it worthwhile.”
He muttered cryptic words.
Then—
Fweeeeee—!
He let out a long whistle and began to withdraw from the battlefield.
As for Makbung, the bandit chief?
Whether he lived or died, they didn’t care.
“Guaaahh!”
“Urghhh!”
“Young Master—!”
Amid the escorts’ wails and cries, the five ash-masked fiends carried off a man—Jin Jo-yeon—like he weighed nothing, fleeing the field at terrifying speed.
“Protect the Young Master—!”
“Young Master—!”
“Stop, you villains—!”
Jang and several escort captains gave chase.
“Gr-great One—!”
“Die, you bastard—!”
Only Makbung’s pitiful cries and the escorts’ murderous roars filled the mountain pass.
A day later.
By the time the Seolbong mountains, once clothed in green, had begun to dress in brilliant autumn hues, Kang Yong-un emerged from a valley back onto the mountain road.
His measured steps glided smoothly, his entire body radiating calm, restrained strength.
He had advanced.
One step further.
“Wow! That took over a month—!”
Kang clicked his tongue.
Who would’ve thought it would take him forty-five days to master what the elders of Gungchang had insisted was the most basic of basics?
“Tanzhakuan, Mianzhang, and the Lotus Staff Technique… Now I understand why those arts are considered the foundations of their sects.”
It was completely different from when he had learned the Three Talents Sword.
“Tanzhakuan is about channeling inner force into the fist. Mianzhang is about flowing with the opponent’s attack or reflecting it with the palm. And the Lotus Staff Technique—though just a simple downward strike…”
It was fascinating.
Just as the elders had said, it wasn’t simple at all—it was profound.
Every time he practiced, new hidden depths revealed themselves, countless variations appearing in his mind.
“Phew—! At least I’ve learned enough to combine them with the Three Talents Sword.”
Truthfully, he didn’t want to descend yet.
He wanted months more, to study until he could make them entirely his own.
“So this is why martial artists go into closed-door training.”
But he had no such luxury.
“I should head to Sichuan first… hm?”
His steps halted.
A sharp sensation struck between his brows—an ominous aura ahead.
‘This is…?’
No mistake.
The same aura he had once felt at Honghobyeon.
‘Though smaller and weaker than then…’
But there was no doubt.
The sickening inner force filled the air within a wide circle.
It was a demonic formation.
Drawn like iron to a magnet, Kang focused his inner sight on it.
‘Again?’
His brows furrowed.
Just as with his disciple Yeom Gi-jin in that mountain near Honghobyeon—
Someone, likely a cult sorcerer, was devouring the qi of another.
‘Damn. It’s already done.’
The victim’s blue qi flickered, then snuffed out completely, replaced by the foul energy.
Truly tragic.
Whoever that person had been, once they awoke, they would no longer be themselves, but a slave to the cult.
‘Phew—! What now?’
It was troubling.
Inside the formation were six experts.
‘If it were just one, I might risk it, but six?!’
One of them stood out above the rest.
Not as terrifying as the one who had faced the Red Dragon King at Honghobyeon, but still far beyond his current reach.
‘If I go alone now, I’ll be like a mantis before a cartwheel…’
And yet, turning away pricked at his conscience.
What to do?
As he wrestled with his thoughts—
“Young Master—!”
“Where are you, Young Master—!”
“You fiends! Where are you hiding? Come out—!”
Five men, their voices hoarse from shouting, were desperately calling from the south.
A spark lit in Kang’s eyes.
“Well now. That changes things.”
He moved toward them immediately.
“Are you searching for someone—one man taken by six fiends?”
“Who goes there?!”
“State your name.”
Jang Won-pyeong and the escort captains drew their swords, leveling them at Kang in suspicion.
‘Sigh. No helping it.’
Kang awkwardly produced a crimson token from his robes.
“It’s only natural you’d doubt me. But I came here through the recommendation of the Black Lotus Sect…”
After much explanation, and confirming the token, Jang and the others finally lowered their suspicions.
“So you were originally headed for the Jin family.”
“Yes. But right now, what matters isn’t that—it’s the person you’re searching for.”
Kang pointed straight ahead.
Toward the formation housing Jin Jo-yeon and the cult sorcerers.
