Chapter 101: Chapter 101
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In his youth, Chu Yang-seon gathered mixed-blood youths and homeless foreigners in Gamsan City under his wing. Leveraging their burly physiques, he secured work from sailing ships.
Basing his operations on storing and transporting cargo entering Gamsan, he established a dockside organization. Over time, his group came to own several large warehouses with roughly thirty workers, earning Chu Yang-seon enough wealth to acquire a sizable manor on the outskirts of Gamsan.
He had not involved himself in the underworld gang wars of recent weeks. He had calculated that unifying the underworld was impossible, and even if achieved, it would not last long. His insight proved correct; while gangsters were being rounded up indiscriminately over the past few days, his men remained step-removed from the Martial Alliance’s sights as legitimate warehouse workers.
Chu Yang-seon felt retirement was not far off. Though they had avoided the Alliance’s eyes, their influence had undeniably shriveled. He planned to leave two or three smart subordinates to select the next boss or sell the business to whichever wealthy figure in Gamsan offered the best price.
Then, a few days ago, the son of the fence at Poga Smithy brokered an item for him. It was a weapon from a distant foreign land, a sword of breathtaking beauty and elaborate craftsmanship. Planning to move to Heavenly Empress City after retirement, Chu Yang-seon preferred converting his assets into lightweight valuables. Though the blade required further appraisal, purchasing it as stolen goods promised far greater profit than its cost.
He had decided to buy the stolen blade.
“···I should have just exchanged it for gold.”
Chu Yang-seon muttered with a ghastly expression. Fierce heat illuminated his face. The expressions of his subordinates behind him were no different. Everyone felt horrified by the atrocity unfolding before their eyes.
The heat radiated from the center of the warehouse. Originally built to temporarily store cargo arriving at the port, the interior had now been completely cleared, and a blazing fire burned at its center. Billowing smoke rose toward the ventilation windows near the ceiling, merging and dispersing into the thick fog enveloping Gamsan.
Bound to a pillar inside that blaze was a person, and before him stood the culprit who caused this madness, spreading both arms and chanting unintelligible incantations.
“···Manor Head, even now, shouldn’t we···”
A subordinate behind him quietly approached and whispered. He was suggesting they strike the culprit before it was too late or report the matter to the Martial Alliance.
“Ugh···”
Chu Yang-seon groaned. The fence who sold the stolen item three days ago was no ordinary petty thief. Judging by his dark skin and demeanor, he seemed like a mere sailor from a distant land, but surprisingly, after coming to sell the weapon, the sailor knocked out Chu Yang-seon’s subordinates with his bare fists and occupied this warehouse. He then demanded the space be cleared for him.
The reason Chu Yang-seon had not immediately reported the brute to the Martial Alliance was simple. He wondered if he could somehow make use of that formidable Kunlun slave.
He was a Kunlun slave who had beaten down over a dozen burly men with movements that could hardly be considered martial arts. As for his identity, Chu Yang-seon already employed plenty of Westerners and mixed-bloods, so disguising him would be easy. If used properly, instead of retiring, he might even become the godfather of the back alleys.
So he built the wooden altar as requested and even captured Gang Sik—the fence who suddenly demanded hush money when the blade’s original owner showed up—to truly silence him. He thought fulfilling the man’s requests might make him cooperative.
However, after three days, Chu Yang-seon and his men realized how terribly mistaken that thought had been. The Kunlun slave, having crudely constructed an altar, placed the captured fence upon it and set him ablaze—after piercing his vocal cords so he could not scream.
Never imagining he would actually burn a live human this morning, Chu Yang-seon and his subordinates stared at the roaring flames with appalled expressions.
Only after seeing the ornate sword dangling from the Kunlun slave’s waist alongside the flames did Chu Yang-seon change his mind.
“···Yes, I made a mistake. Someone go report to the Martial Alliance. Tell them a mad cultist has hidden in our warehouse and set a fire.”
“Understood. Then I will go—”
Just then, the Kunlun slave, who had been flailing his arms toward the flames while chanting nonsense, suddenly spun around and yelled.
“Chu! Intruders! Someone is trying to disrupt the ritual!”
As he suddenly turned and shouted, Chu Yang-seon, already guilty-conscious, flinched in shock.
“What? What bullshit is that··· Who would come here···”
Even as he spoke, Chu Yang-seon assumed someone outside had seen the smoke rising from the warehouse and mistaken it for an accidental fire. He did not know that the fog over Gamsan was unusually thick this morning.
At any rate, feeling guilty over their plotting, Chu Yang-seon and his men reflexively looked around. They spotted two men stride boldly through the warehouse’s main entrance. One was a tall man who appeared to be from the Central Plains, and the other was another Kunlun slave.
They were, of course, Jang Geon and Anon.
“Dammit··· Rakka, you lunatic···”
Anon’s face turned grave upon discovering the roaring altar, the charred lump atop it, and Rakka standing before it with ritual patterns drawn in blood on his face. In contrast, Rakka smirked, revealing yellowed teeth.
Rakka spoke.
[Anon! You came at the perfect time! Neither too late nor too early. This, too, seems to be Baal’s blessing.]
[You crazy bastard, I knew you were gloomy and a believer of Baal··· but to actually burn a human live··· Just from what era is that ritual?]
[Why? There are no Roman legions here, nor priests of the Pantheon! They are on the opposite side of the world, a full year’s sail away! All that exists here are these yellow monkeys! Once shown our authority, these weaklings will all fall to their knees and praise Baal’s power!]
Anon slowly shook his head.
[Baal or whatever, do your crazy acts alone. So why did you take my sword?]
[Do you not know? The magic embedded in this blade? Foolish man··· The captain is a formidable mage, and this blade contains a portion of that spell’s essence. It is no different than a pearl necklace hung on a pig’s neck.]
Rakka grabbed the hilt of the sword strapped to his waist. A hazy grey light flickered in his eyes.
“It seems you’re glad to meet after a long time.”
Anon, who had been conversing in his homeland’s tongue, glanced at Jang Geon upon hearing his words. Jang Geon kept his gaze fixed on the burning altar—more precisely, on the blackened lump upon it.
“···I see why that fellow tried to disembark here. It seems he intended to proselytize his god.”
“Then is that a sacrifice to his god?”
“···It is.”
Jang Geon’s eyes sank deeply. His eyes shifted smoothly, meeting Rakka, who was staring in their direction. Glaring grey eyes and eyes calm as a lake collided in midair.
Just then, Chu Yang-seon, reading the room, chimed in.
“Who are you people? Who gave you permission to barge in···”
“Judging by your earrings, you must be the ones who captured Gang Sik, the fence.”
Startled by Jang Geon speaking without even looking at him, Chu Yang-seon unconsciously fidgeted with the earring hanging from his ear. Not only he, but all his subordinates wore an earring of varying sizes. That was the mark they chose after pondering how to differentiate their organization from others.
“Decide. Stay quiet and be taken by the Martial Alliance, or die by my hand right now.”
Since only two men had appeared in a venue with a dozen people, Chu Yang-seon’s gang members were stealthily surrounding them. However, when the Martial Alliance was mentioned, embarrassment showed on their faces. Was that not the very name they were about to call moments ago? Furthermore, being back-alley thugs, they did not think they could stop an expert from the Martial Alliance. The purge of Gamsan’s underworld had begun when dozens of Hwryong Gang members were killed or crippled by a single Alliance master.
The gang members glanced at Chu Yang-seon, awaiting instructions. After briefly weighing his options, Chu Yang-seon made up his mind and waved his hands at his men. Following that gesture, the gang members hurried off to one side.
“···We will go quietly.”
Once they stepped back, Jang Geon glanced briefly at Chu Yang-seon’s face, fixed his eyes back on Rakka, and strode forward. Anon caught up to his side and warned:
“Be careful, Jang Geon. I didn’t know either, but performing a ritual means that guy was a priest. There’s no telling what magic he might pull.”
Instead of answering, Jang Geon gripped the scabbard at his waist with his left hand, pressing down and twisting it slightly to make it easier to draw. Yet the moment he took hold of the scabbard, a strange sharpness seeped from the sword before the blade was even revealed.
Jang Geon’s eyebrows twitched as he watched Rakka. The momentum of a living wild beast radiated from an undrawn blade.
This was not good. For the mental blade he harbored to reveal itself unbidden meant this sword was no ordinary weapon, and at the same time, it was something that required more familiarity to wield properly. After a moment’s thought, Jang Geon released the scabbard and let both hands hang naturally.
Watching him, Rakka tilted his head and spoke in broken Central Plains speech.
“Why put down sword?”
“Because two hands are enough.”
“Enough? For what?”
“To shatter your jaw.”
Rakka looked back and forth between Anon and Jang Geon before speaking.
“Are you the constable of this city? Good. You are audience enough to showcase Baal’s authority in this new land.”
The moment he finished speaking, he raised both hands high. Jang Geon, suspecting thrown weapons, focused on his hands, when the flame smoldering behind Rakka suddenly expanded in size.
Then the smoke rising toward the ceiling suddenly moved with direction as if possessed by a will of its own, pouring down toward Chu Yang-seon’s gang members huddled in a corner.
“Gwaaak-!”
“Wh-What is this, Aaaah!”
“What the fuck! Save me!”
Smoke engulfed the burly men. Enveloped in smoke, the gang members screamed instantly as flames consumed them. The existing smoke and the smoke rising from their bodies merged, expanding rapidly.
“N-No··· What is···”
Having barely escaped the smoke by being in the front, Chu Yang-seon crawled toward Jang Geon and Anon on all fours, looking utterly terrified.
The inside of the warehouse was now filled with dark smoke. The fires inside the warehouse grew around the corpses burning like firewood. Seeing this, Anon let out a dry laugh.
“Fuck, I sailed on the same ship for a year and never knew he had this power··· I should have come before he started the ritual···”
Muttering thus, he extended his left hand toward the smoke creeping stealthily toward them. A pattern glowed inside his palm, repelling the smoke. To Jang Geon, both the self-moving smoke and Anon’s light were incomprehensible powers. The mystery he felt when encountering the spirits and sorcery of this land resurfaced.
The smoke and flames that burned everyone in the warehouse except Jang Geon, Anon, and Chu Yang-seon were suddenly sucked back toward where Rakka stood. The billowing smoke and flames disappeared cleanly in an instant.
What remained was Rakka, standing with closed eyes and outstretched arms. His black skin glistened smoothly. Seeing him, Anon spoke with a hardened face.
“I’m sorry, Jang Geon. I didn’t expect things to turn out like this so suddenly. You got dragged into a needless mess because of me.”
“What is that guy?”
“Those people just now were all sacrificed to summon Baal’s power through him. If we had a priest, we might have managed somehow··· but a mere swordsman like me can’t win. So, Jang Geon.”
Jang Geon, who had been staring at Rakka standing like a statue, glanced at Anon upon hearing his words.
“I’ll buy time, so run away. The captain’s ship is at the south pier, so go there and bring the captain. The captain will be able to handle him. Finding the ship won’t be hard. Green sails—”
Just then, Rakka’s closed eyes snapped open. Inside his pupils, instead of the boundary between white and black, flames and smoke swirled together furiously.
“Do you think you can escape?”
Rakka abruptly extended his left hand. A fireball erupted from his hand and flew toward Jang Geon and Anon.
Anon hastily threw himself aside, while Jang Geon casually kicked the dazed gang leader, Chu Yang-seon, shoving him into a corner of the warehouse, and easily dodged the fireball.
The fireball exploded with a loud bang. With his keen senses, Jang Geon estimated the range touched by the flames and heat. The heat was tremendous, but the speed of the projectile and the spread of the fire were not threatening to someone as quick as Jang Geon.
“Rakka, you bastard!”
Unlike Jang Geon, who dodged the fireball with agile steps, Anon rolled along the ground to evade it. Leaping up, he swung the short sword he brought from outside. The inside of the palm gripping that blade glowed faintly.
Rakka, who threw the fireball, had his skin crack open around his glowing, smoke-filled eyes, spreading downward. Smoke seeped out from the cracks. It looked as though his skin was severely chapped and split. Smoke soon gushed beneath his feet, and moments later, it lifted Rakka’s body upward.
[Fear the great power of Baal. Kneel and bow your head. If you wish to live, you must do so.]
Jang Geon looked flabbergasted as the man floated nearly two and a half zhang into the air, blabbering in his own tongue.
“Are you on Somersault Cloud?”
Floating gently, Rakka soon joined his hands in prayer. A fireball like the one shot at Jang Geon and Anon gathered, blazing between his hands. He then shot that gathered power straight up toward the ceiling.
The upward fireball, carrying condensed force, blew away the warehouse ceiling with a loud explosion. While the vast ceiling was not entirely destroyed, a large hole was blasted open. Rakka extended both arms toward that opening.
Just as Jang Geon wondered what useless trick he was attempting, thick, pale fog poured heavily through the hole. Mixing with the smoke emanating from Rakka’s body, the fog wrapped his figure in a hazy white shroud.
“Following smoke, he is trying to use fog magic! Escape before it’s too late, Jang Geon! Once he completes that magic, he can instantly teleport wherever the fog touches! You won’t escape his hands in this city!”
Shouting to Jang Geon, Anon pulled back the short sword in his hand past his shoulder as far as he could, then hurled it fiercely toward Rakka in the air. The flying short sword spun rapidly, appearing like a disk.
However, as the fog and smoke gathering around Rakka’s body shot out toward the incoming short sword like a massive river, the blade instantly stopped rotating and fell limply to the ground.
“Damn it···”
Rakka then glared menacingly at Anon and reached out toward him. The fog around Rakka’s arm cleared, and inside his black hand, bright red flames flared and condensed. The heat of the fireball and the densely gathered fog licked each other, displaying a strange convective motion. Seeing the fireball, Anon lowered his stance, tensing up to leap to the side.
At that moment, a fist abruptly shot inward toward Rakka’s lower jaw.
Startled, Rakka dispersed the fireball he was creating and hastily dodged. The fist grazed his chin, and its owner, Jang Geon, plummeted back toward the ground. Rakka touched his chin with a face of disbelief. Though it had only grazed him, blood trickled from his split skin.
Jang Geon executed a somersault in midair to dissipate the falling momentum and landed lightly, touching the ground. Seeing this, Anon shouted with a shocked expression.
“Jang Geon! Were you a mage after all? How could you reach that height···”
Jang Geon did not answer the question. The moment he touched the ground, he gathered the sensation of his previous leap. Before the surprised Rakka could fly higher, he leaped once more.
Seeing Jang Geon rapidly closing the distance from the ground, Rakka hastily gathered fog and smoke, spewing them forth just as he had done when blocking the thrown blade.
At that instant, Jang Geon twisted his body in midair. Without any foothold, he altered his trajectory purely through bodily elasticity, brushing past the spewing fog as if traveling upstream to reach Rakka. His tightly clenched left fist aimed for Rakka’s chin.
However, dark fog mixed with smoke gathered like a small shield before the fist, blocking it. Though physical-less fog should have easily scattered before a fist, surprisingly, Jang Geon’s punch was halted. A dull thud rang out, like punching a thick cotton quilt.
Having blocked the strike, Rakka assumed Jang Geon would now fall back to the ground. Thus, he immediately gathered a fireball in his left hand.
Yet Jang Geon did not fall. Within the hazy fog gathered around Rakka, he twisted his body once more using his full physical elasticity. The recoil of the previous strike combined with his body’s elasticity created a brief moment where Jang Geon did not fall in midair.
To Chu Yang-seon looking up from the warehouse corner, he looked like a dragon navigating through clouds and mist.
Immediately after, starting from Jang Geon’s shoulder, an invisible vortex of power traveled down his forearm and gathered in his palm. Jang Geon extended his body fully, thrusting his glowingly red right palm into Rakka. The Subduing Dragon Palm shattered the fog of magic blocking his path, striking dead center on Rakka’s chest.
With a thud, Rakka flew like a ball, smashing through the warehouse wall and tumbling onto the dock outside. Having sent him flying, Jang Geon somersaulted in midair once more to absorb the downward momentum, landing lightly on the ground.
Anon blinked both eyes, staring at Jang Geon as he rose from the ground, and said:
“···Forget what I said earlier about running away. I think Gamsan City’s spicy fist will be more than enough.”