Chapter 94: Chapter 94
Beyond the large main gate, which ill suited the narrow alley, lay a broad open space with a small shrine set up in its center. In the open space, scattered about were small tents to block the rain, campfires, bowls used for eating, an iron kettle, blankets spread on the ground, and so on, as if Returning Dragon Gang members had been resting there until moments ago.
And among them was a member who, unlike other members, had not come outside but waited inside.
“…Who are you?”
The shrine was slightly higher than the open space, which was no different from a market floor, so one had to step up the stairs to reach it. That member happened to be sitting right before those stairs, sipping tea.
Even upon seeing Jang Geon enter through the opened main gate with a sword held in his hand, he wore a dim-witted expression, unable to grasp the situation. Jang Geon strode forward step by step until he stopped before him, looking around at the shrine and its surroundings. No one else was visible.
Jang Geon met the eyes of the dazed-looking member and asked.
“Are the Wang brothers inside there?”
The member blinked his two eyes as he looked up at Jang Geon asking the question, then stole a peek beyond the slightly opened main gate, whereupon his face abruptly hardened.
“…Th-That’s right.”
Leaving behind that tensely stiffened member, Jang Geon climbed the stairs. The member swallowed hard at his exposed back, his right hand holding the iron teacup trembling as he moved it toward his waist. And while Jang Geon climbed those few stairs of the shrine, he shivered as if all sorts of emotions were intersecting.
The next instant, he threw aside the iron teacup and drew the saber strapped to his waist.
The drawn saber was fast. Whether his skill was the reason he alone had waited inside unlike the other members, his saber drew a flashing gleam despite his posture not being properly set.
However, that gleam could not be faster than Jang Geon’s sword.
A clear metallic clink echoed inside the open space, and the half-severed blade whirled through the air and fell at a distance. As the blade fell, the member also tumbled forward smoothly.
Leaving behind the dead man, Jang Geon flicked his sword clean as if nothing had happened, climbed the stairs, and reached the shrine door. Pushing the door lightly, it swung open easily with a creaking sound, as if it had not been locked to begin with.
Inside the shrine, there was only a large wooden Buddha statue placed, with nothing else present. Because not a single candle was lit, the Buddha statue, which should have been merciful, appeared only jet-black and gloomy.
Jang Geon did not panic. The secret contact had said one must descend underground. In that case, it was hardly difficult to surmise that a secret passage existed somewhere.
He briefly looked around from outside the shrine, then stepped inside. And behind the wooden Buddha statue, he was able to discover a rope coming up above the floor. It was not an extraordinarily cleverly hidden secret passage. Perhaps that was why Returning Dragon Gang members had been guarding the outside.
Grabbing and pulling that rope, the wooden floor opened with a clunking sound. Chilly and stale air rushed upward, revealing stairs leading down.
Looking down for a moment, Jang Geon soon descended down without hesitation. Inside such a narrow passage, it was difficult to react to situations and one could be ambushed at the end, but Jang Geon figured that the bastards below could hardly anticipate his attack.
In truth, Jang Geon’s appearance was like a bolt out of the blue to them. Who on earth would track a native massacre that occurred far in the eastern plains all the way here, and immediately pursue the culprit down into this basement?
The party involved, Green Snake, had come here, and the person who took the Origin Pill had vanished further to the east. The survivors were only those two. Even if someone discovered the burned native village, pursuing the culprit Green Snake straight from there all the way to Gamsan City, and even charging into this Returning Dragon Gang hideout, was something impossible unless one possessed clairvoyance.
However, Jang Geon came. At the end of an ensemble of strange coincidences and will. He did not yet know what scheme the Demonic Palace was hatching here, but Jang Geon had no intention of caring about whatever plans or calculations they harbored. He would simply make the blue snake below pay the price.
A trembling vibration was felt from the black spearhead tied behind his waist. The grudge residing in that spearhead was excited that its enemy was drawing near.
Just as Jang Geon expected, nothing impeded him as he descended the stairs. At the end of that path, it was blocked by a single iron door, and without a single torch or lantern, it was pitch dark. However, Jang Geon approached the iron door without much difficulty, closed his eyes, and placed his left hand against it.
He felt the coldness of iron on his palm. Confirming a vibration from beyond that he surmised to be human conversation, he opened his eyes and inspected the iron door.
Smooth without a single keyhole, the iron door seemed openable only from the inside. There was no gap for a blade to enter, so slicing the latch to open it would also be difficult. Looking closer, he could tell that at least the surroundings of the iron door were not entirely metal.
In that case, there was only one way. Forcing it open with strength.
“Making me break a sweat for nothing.”
Jang Geon sheathed his sword into his scabbard and stood before the iron door. He spread his feet slightly wider than shoulder-width, placing both hands at his lower abdomen with palms facing down. He then inhaled a deep breath.
Expanded lungs and a diaphragm stretched long downward stimulated his dantian, moving the qi stored within it. The qi arising from his dantian circulated through his entire body like wind, then split into two streams, surging toward the left and right halves of his body. And at their ends were both palms.
The internal energy, like a calm wind, traveled down the meridians of both arms toward his palms, rapidly turning scalding hot. It was not a simple concentration of Yang energy, but heat arising from Yin and Yang qi twisting and rotating at furious speed down the meridians. It was a mysterious power stemming from the friction of qi rubbing against qi, and also the essence of Samadhi True Fire.
That heat went beyond staying inside Jang Geon’s forearms, creating a hot wind outward that fluttered his collar. Had someone seen Jang Geon right now, it would have looked as though two vaguely visible Fire Dragons started from both shoulders, slithered down his forearms, and finally slid into both palms.
A fleeting moment passed, and feeling that sufficient qi had gathered, Jang Geon slowly raised both hands to his chest level, then poured it out toward the iron door along with his held breath.
A booming sound echoed, and the iron door buckled violently, bouncing inward. The area around the door shattered along with the flying door leaf, blowing up a cloud of dust. The conversation echoing inside ceased abruptly at the sudden commotion.
Jang Geon pierced through that dust without hesitation and stepped inside.
A space as large as the shrine above and its open ground unfolded before him. However, except for thick pillars here and there, there was not much, and at what appeared to be its center, there was a coffin-like object and three men sitting surrounding it in a triangular formation.
Seeing one among them, Jang Geon grinned.
Staring vacantly at the shattered door and the smiling Jang Geon, they soon rose lightly from their seats and began taking up defensive postures. Among them, a man who had grown a long beard elegantly stepped forward slightly and asked.
“Who are you?”
Hearing even his voice, Jang Geon grew more certain. This was indeed the man he had seen and heard in his dream.
“Who else? A person who came looking for you.”
The long beard’s already grave face hardened even colder. He glanced at the other two men, and those two slowly spread apart to the left and right, surrounding Jang Geon.
The long beard spoke.
“You say you came looking for me, but there should be no one in this Gamsan who knows me.”
“I am not from Gamsan City.”
The long beard lightly stroked his beard and tilted his head.
“A strange thing. Judging by your eyes and expression, you truly seem to know me, yet your face is one entirely absent from my memory.”
Scrutinizing Jang Geon, his gaze flicked elsewhere. At the end of that gaze lay the iron door buckled violently and rolling on the floor. On that iron door, two handprints were distinctly stamped. Seeing that, the long beard’s eyes narrowed.
“…Remarkable internal energy.”
“Compared to what you’ve done, it’s nothing.”
With narrowed vision, the long beard glared at Jang Geon.
“What I’ve done?”
“Yeah. What you’ve done.”
Ignoring the long beard’s puzzled gaze, Jang Geon scanned the other two men scattered to his left and right.
“You two must be the Wang brothers. Wang Sam asked me to send his regards.”
The two men froze in place and looked at each other. They too knew that Wang Sam had been arrested by the Martial Alliance. The reason they had descended to this basement to expedite the grand ritual was also because the Gamsan Branch, which had been obedient until now, had suddenly moved.
The man who had moved to the right glared at Jang Geon and asked.
“The Martial Alliance? There was no information that New Sichuan was sending warriors specifically.”
The man who had moved to the left continued speaking.
“What did you do to our third brother? Did you kill him?”
Jang Geon looked around at them smoothly, held his scabbard with his left hand, and spoke.
“You seem to have many questions. Truth be told, I have things I’m curious about with you as well.”
The long beard was lost in deep thought as if trying to recognize Jang Geon, while the remaining two slowly stopped their steps, finishing their encirclement. Just then, Jang Geon’s words followed.
“If Wang Sam was the third brother of the Wang family, are your names by any chance Wang Il and Wang I?”
At those words, the two men knitted their brows. The man on the right spoke first.
“I am Wang Il.”
The man on the left continued speaking.
“I am Wang I. Is there something strange about that?”
At their answers, Jang Geon chuckled heartily. Because whether they were pseudonyms or real names, they were names given exceedingly carelessly. And listening to that short banter, the long beard flicked away the hand that was stroking his chin and spoke in a low tone.
“Did you smash the door and enter just to exchange names? Fine, I am Namgung Yeo-jun. Who are you?”
“Jang Geon.”
Namgung Yeo-jun looked at Wang Il and Wang I as if asking whether they had heard the name Jang Geon. Wang Il shook his head as if he didn’t know, but Wang I wrinkled his eyebrows as if something were coming to mind. And soon, as if remembering, he looked at Jang Geon and spoke.
“…Jang Geon! The fellow who obstructed the snatching of the Nine Yin Evil Blood! A master presumed to be from the Imperial Army!”
At the mention of the Imperial Army, Namgung Yeo-jun and Wang Il’s expressions turned equally cold. Of course, Jang Geon, who was misunderstood, merely wore an enigmatic smile.
Jang Geon interfering in the Demonic Palace’s affairs was not a one-time occurrence. Once in the northeastern valley tribe, once while eliminating Seo Wi-ryang who tried to devour the economy around Gamsan City, and once more in the incident mentioned by that fellow regarding the Nine Yin Evil Blood, presumably referring to Jin Seo-ha. And unknown to Jang Geon, the Red Bandit group and chief Gam Sang-cheong, whose head Jang Geon took while causing trouble in the central region, were also bandits to whom the Demonic Palace’s ties extended.
At any rate, pointing out only the Nine Yin Evil Blood out of many other incidents and assuming him to be Imperial Army showed that the Demonic Palace had failed to properly grasp Jang Geon’s identity.
In truth, considering the vast land of this New Continent and an era lacking a single electronic device, it was an obvious outcome. For information to gather, not only did the informant carrying it have to remain alive, but one had to aggregate it to grasp a proper story.
For the Demonic Palace, which had to keep a low profile to evade the eyes of the Imperial Army even on this New Continent, not just the Central Plains, that was hardly an easy task. In fact, the Emperor’s intelligence agency, the Dark Dragon Corps, popping up here and there across the New Continent was possible only because national resources were mobilized.
“The Emperor’s dog? Ah, I see… You must have grasped the matter in the eastern plains? Sniffing around everywhere like a stray dog is truly no different from a mongrel.”
Having assumed Jang Geon’s identity to be Imperial Army, Namgung Yeo-jun stroked his long beard again, wearing a contemptuous expression. As if realizing the meaning of what Jang Geon had said to him earlier, he nodded his head.
“From the looks of it, you aren’t a Taoist or a monk… That means you know nothing except that those red monkeys died. Fitting for fellows useless for anything except sniffing around, your ability to grasp the hidden intent of an incident is abysmal. And…”
Namgung Yeo-jun let his hand stroking his beard fall straight down to grab the hilt of the sword strapped to his waist.
“To descend here alone, how arrogant.”
The Wang brothers also grabbed their sabers simultaneously as he grabbed his sword. Facing them, Jang Geon still held his scabbard with his left hand. Looking at him, Namgung Yeo-jun twisted up the corners of his mouth.
“The Emperor’s dogs are always like that. In the end, fellows exiled to this land for lack of ability always put on airs as Commandants or Vice-Generals of the Imperial Army, holding their heads stiff. Thinking of the previous case with Son Gwang and charging in alone to build merit will prove to be your mistake.”
Along with his concluding words, a dark-blue light began flashing in his pupils. And the same was true for the Wang brothers surrounding Jang Geon on both sides. Bumpy, thick blood vessels bulged out from their hands holding their weapons.
“…I shall show you a divine technique forged through a thousand years of time.”
As their eyes flashed dark-blue, the underground space itself suddenly began turning chilly. Originally a space lit by a mere five or six torches and not particularly warm, that drop in temperature was an abnormal phenomenon.
As the temperature dropped, the light of the blazing torches dwindled, and in a brief moment, the underground space became an extremely gloomy and cold cavern. It was not mere cold felt from a drop in temperature, but a damp chilliness driven by demonic qi swirling around the three men led by Namgung Yeo-jun, forcibly awakening terror embedded in the nature of life.
Their momentum was of an unrivaled level among the demonic practitioners Jang Geon had encountered so far. No, to be precise, it was not the Wang brothers, but the demonic art of the man named Namgung Yeo-jun that was so. With three demonic practitioners instead of one, Jang Geon could naturally sense that this fight would not be easy.
However, even while feeling that intuition, without arguing that he was not Imperial Army, nor searching for a way to retreat, he awakened all senses of his body, and once more furiously set into motion the internal energy of his dantian that had settled after breaking the door. The demonic qi attempting to invade his body through skin and breath had to be repelled by that intense movement as if touching boiling water.
Inside the cold underground space, only the area around Jang Geon’s body was enveloped in scorching heat. Namgung Yeo-jun saw and felt it, but could not open his mouth amid the demonic qi boiling cold throughout his body. And the same was true for Wang Il and Wang I, as well as Jang Geon facing them.
The four men stood in their spots like stone statues, constantly searching for each other’s openings to find the best attack route by which they could win the next instant. The air of the underground space began swirling like a vortex as heat and cold preyed upon each other.
That small wind soon became a typhoon furiously driving through the underground space, violently shaking the four men’s hair and collars. However, despite that disturbance, they did not bat an eye. And at a certain instant, that storm subsided like a lie, and the underground space grew completely silent.
Right after, the Wang brothers kicked off the ground, and simultaneously, Jang Geon’s sword was drawn.
The moment the blade left the scabbard, time slowed down. Wang Il on Jang Geon’s right was approaching slightly faster. If he aimed his sword to block him, Wang I, approaching a split second later, would attack his wide-open left side. The sight of two demonic practitioners swinging sabers with their eyes flashing blue was like evil ghosts.
Jang Geon did not hesitate even in slowed time. Exiting the scabbard, he moved his blade, already fast as thunderbolts, even faster, extending it toward Wang Il on his right.
The dark-shimmering saber qi filled with overflowing demonic qi met Jang Geon’s sword.
Wang Il’s saber qi was sliced straight through. Perceiving his blade being severed while scattering sparks, his eyes widened into circles. He instinctively raised his left hand to block the blade approaching his neck, but his flesh-and-blood hand was of no use other than being sliced before his neck.
Slicing the first neck, Jang Geon pulled his right foot back and spun using his left foot as an axis with the rotational force intact. Wang I, who had drawn significantly closer, was thrusting a thin straight sword straight out. Explosive demonic qi was likewise contained at that blade tip. And it was already too close to completely dodge or parry.
Jang Geon kept the trajectory of his spinning blade intact and twisted his body slightly. Wang I’s blade, thrust precisely targeting his neck, lost its target from that twist and grazed past Jang Geon’s right trapezius muscle. Due to the intense force contained in the blade, his flesh tore open even though the blade did not directly strike.
However, in exchange, Wang I was cleanly sliced from his right armpit to the opposite side of his neck. His face retained the expression of a furious beast. Yet he too seemed to have cultivated external body force like Wang Sam, possessing tough skin, so Jang Geon’s sword could endure no further and snapped with a metallic clatter.
Immediately after, returning to the front, Namgung Yeo-jun’s sword was flying toward Jang Geon’s front. His two eyes trickling dark-blue demonic qi, and the blade approaching as if rending space filled with that ferocious strength. Nowhere on it was there any appearance of the surname Namgung that Jang Geon knew. The sword flying toward him now neither resembled the sky nor held the majesty of an emperor. There was only cold violence.
Jang Geon took in all of that sight. Though so different from the Namgung in his heart, precisely for that reason, he felt he could revive their martial arts without hesitation.
Containing that scene in his heart, he rotated one turn and pushed out with his left hand the Samadhi True Fire he had raised in the left half of his body. The Fire Dragon starting from his toes swirled around ankles, knees, waist, shoulder, and arm, slipping into his palm. Jang Geon extended that palm containing the Fire Dragon straight toward Namgung Yeo-jun.
Namgung Yeo-jun also saw Jang Geon’s bright yellow glowing palm, but knowing there was still considerable distance, and that his sword would reach first according to that distance, he pressed forward unhesitatingly. He intended to split that palm and Jang Geon together.
However, the next moment, he felt intense pain in his chest and was blown backward violently.
And around the time he flew to the vicinity of the stone coffin far off, a low dragon roar echoed slightly delayed from Jang Geon’s left palm. Along with it, slowed time regained its original flow, and the corpses of the dead Wang brothers tumbled onto the floor.