Chapter 32
Benefactor (3)
Kang Yong-un’s explanation came quickly.
Ahead of them lay an invisible formation, he said, and the person they sought was trapped inside.
“A… a formation?”
“Where is it?”
Jang Won-pyeong and the squad leaders narrowed their eyes, staring hard at the spot Kang indicated, forcing their inner energy into their gaze.
“Sir, is there truly a formation ahead?”
“You mean it’s really there?!”
They asked again, unable to believe it.
What else could I do? Thanks to my heart-eye, I can see it plainly without even trying, but for others it must be difficult.
He had to understand.
Kang Yong-un firmed his voice.
“It is definitely there. Just wait a little longer.”
Jang Won-pyeong and the others exchanged glances, then slowly nodded.
Let’s wait and see.
It may be wise to watch for now, Master.
He doesn’t seem to harbor malice.
Their thoughts aligned.
Curiosity followed.
“A formation?!”
“I’ve only heard of such things, this is the first time experiencing one, Master.”
“How could those with such frightening abilities be targeting our Young Master?”
In their eyes were questions, outrage, and a primal fear.
But inside Kang Yong-un was no fear—only hesitation.
Should I tell them exactly about the apostate sorcerer’s arts crowding my head?
Or should I keep it to myself?
After thought, he decided to reveal the truth.
Even if I save Cheong-hwa’s master, the sorcery in his mind can’t be undone without their help.
So he had to explain.
“Soon the inside will reveal itself. I’ll explain the rest then.”
“You said the same earlier, but how will that be possible?”
“Does this mean you’ll break the formation yourself once it’s revealed?”
Kang shook his head.
“No. Once the enemies inside finish what they came for, they will dissolve the formation and step out.”
It was exactly so.
The apostate sorcerers who had devoured Jin Jo-yeon’s Cheong-hwa began unraveling the formation.
Ruuumble—
A heavy tremor rippled outward. The round barrier of foul energy corroded like rusted iron, crumbling away.
They’re coming out soon.
Kang’s voice grew urgent.
“I know it’s hard to trust me, even with the family token I showed. But if you wish to live, remember this—our enemies’ martial arts are rooted in illusion. Do not trust what your eyes see.”
There was no time left.
Shhhh—!
A surge of condensed energy burst, scattering like shattering glass. The scene ahead shifted.
“Young Master—!”
“You fiends—!”
Before Jang Won-pyeong and the squad leaders appeared masked figures—one in white, one in gray—standing over Jin Jo-yeon, the Third Young Master of the Jin family, collapsed on the ground.
“What have you done to him?!”
“Reveal yourselves, villains! In the name of the Jin family, you will answer for this!”
Their inner power thundered as they shouted, but the white mask’s attention turned only to Kang Yong-un.
“Are you of the Zhuge clan?”
They had heard and seen everything inside—the way Kang pierced their formation and even saw through to the truth within.
“Impressive. Seeing through our formation is one thing, but how did you know our arts are illusion-based?”
Shiii—
From the man seeped a killing chill.
Jang Won-pyeong and the others didn’t matter; instinct told him Kang Yong-un could not be allowed to live.
Kang drew his sword with a ring.
“You won’t have your way.”
Both heart and heart-eye told him so. He could not win, but he would not fall cheaply either.
Besides—
[What’s this? More apostates?]
[Hey, everyone, come quick! Our Yong-un’s run into more apostate trash—!]
[What?! Perfect training material for him?]
[Hah! Good. The real powers still haven’t moved, so these are just lackeys.]
[Exactly. With us at his side, no riffraff like this can harm Yong-un!]
The beings of the Firmament connected to his soul-mark, bolstering his courage.
“Come on. I’ll show you.”
Kang assumed a peculiar stance: sword upright at mid-level, one hand pressed at his waist.
It was preparation for the Three Talents Sword Art and 弹指拳. Proof of how much he had changed in just two months.
The white mask snorted, unimpressed.
“Kill the brat!”
Only Kang? Then what of the rest?
He had no time to ponder—the battle began.
“Protect the Young Master—!”
“You bastards—!”
“Haaah—!”
Jang Won-pyeong and the five squad leaders rushed in, blades blazing with all their strength.
“Die!”
“Young Master, please hold on—!”
“We’ll have you safe soon—!”
Their faces glowed with confidence—because with each strike, blood seemed to spray from the enemy.
But it was all illusion.
They’re laughing at you.
Kang saw it clearly.
The masked foes easily sidestepped the others’ attacks, crescent smiles showing through their eye slits.
Except this one.
Only the gray mask was different. His eyes were tight with focus, his attacks sharp and trembling with intent, all directed at Kang.
Whiiing—pow pow pow!
With each sweep of his hands, sickly crescents of force carved through the air—aimed at Kang’s throat, heart, and waist.
But Kang’s heart-eye revealed all.
“Haaah!”
The strike at his throat he deflected with Taesan Apjeong.
The falling pressure toward his heart he bounced away with Palm Wind mixed into弹指.
The waist strike he nullified with a subtle half-step.
Boom! Bang! Crash!
Explosions cracked around him, but none landed cleanly.
Perhaps insulted, the gray mask’s eyes twitched violently.
“Is that all you’ve got?”
The white mask’s cold voice cut in.
“Kraaah!”
The gray mask exploded with inner power, crossing his hands and thrusting forward.
Whooom—!
Energy burst outward, raining down on Kang.
An illusion!
The true target—his heart.
Kang unleashed his Great Heaven Divine Art into his sword, which flared with radiant light.
The force split the attack cleanly in two—then lanced further, grazing the gray mask’s chest.
“Ugh?!”
The man gasped in disbelief.
The white mask too.
“How is that possible?”
It was unthinkable.
But worse followed.
The gray mask staggered, clutching his chest, and screamed in agony.
The white mask gaped. His subordinate, wounded by a mere youth—and unable to withstand the pain.
“Tch—!”
Kang lunged, seizing the moment.
“You brat—!”
The white mask flared his movement art—Shifting Shape, Transposing Shadow, the very technique the Firmament elders had once dismissed as trivial.
“Begone!”
His hand thrust at Kang’s heart, the strike dazzling in its deadly variation.
Boom!
Far stronger than the gray mask’s attack.
Danger—!
Sensing the crisis, Kang opened his core wide.
[Child, trust yourself!]
[Follow your senses, child.]
[As your sword is one with you, so too are fist, palm, and staff all one—!]
The elders’ voices filled him.
He closed his eyes, surrendering to the training of the past two months.
Taesan Apjeong… Seonin Jiro… Palbang Pungwoo…
His blade swept as his senses guided.
Bang! Boom! Boom!
Explosions burst before him, dissipating.
But the assault wasn’t over—three more strikes pierced in.
Kang spun half a circle, fist lashing out—弹指拳!
Boom!
One strike shattered, scattering like wind.
He opened his palm, brushing aside the second like invisible cloth, diverting it into a tree behind him—splintering it instead of his throat.
For the last, his sword swept like a cudgel—clang!
The assault ended.
“Hah—!”
The white mask staggered, speechless.
“This… this can’t be…”
But there was no time.
“Young Master—!”
“Villains, release him!”
“Attack—!”
The Tiger Guards of the Jin family, tracking the enemy’s trail, burst onto the scene, charging in.
Damn it.
The white mask ground his teeth.
If only I had more time…
Too much had been wasted implanting sorcery in Jin Jo-yeon. Now he had no choice but to abandon the plan and flee, leaving Jo-yeon to be “rescued.”
That brat…!
He cast one last venomous glance at Kang.
That one must die someday.
But he could not stay.
The gray masks shrieked, illusions shattering, and leapt skyward in retreat—just as planned, making it look like Jin Jo-yeon was reclaimed.
Damn.
The white mask could not remain alone; he too took flight.
