Chapter 804: "Hey! Grab Any Leftover Liquor!" (4)

 

“This… this is…”

Heo Do-jin's face twisted in a fierce grimace. As a Taoist, he rarely displayed such emotions, and for them to show on his face now meant that the situation was dire.

Without a word, he leapt outside.

Understanding the severity of the situation, the other sect leaders quickly followed.

The battlefield had transformed. The fighting had ceased as if the previous life-or-death struggle had been but a lie.

Heo Do-jin's gaze slowly lifted. Everyone in the valley was looking up.

At the top of the cliff.

There, far above, high enough to make their necks ache, stood a man, looking down at them.

Dressed entirely in black.

A rough, long black beard hanging to his navel.

A reddish face like jujube, and hair wild as a lion's mane.

A black dragon insignia on his chest.

There was no need to say his name.

“Hahahaha! What do you self-righteous scum think you’re going to achieve, coming all the way to the Yangtze?”

Namgung Hwang’s face hardened.

The immense energy embedded in the man's voice seemed to scrape against Namgung Hwang’s skin.

‘Is the Black Dragon King really this strong?’

He had heard the rumors.

But he dismissed him as just another unorthodox scum. Compared to the rigorous, prestigious upbringing of the orthodox sects, where brothers and even blood relatives competed fiercely, unorthodox groups were nothing but a collection of opportunists, lacking any discipline or tenacity.

How formidable could the leader of such a place truly be?

Seeing the Black Dragon King now shattered those assumptions in an instant.

He seemed to radiate a sinister energy that made Namgung Hwang’s spine tingle.

“To invade the Yangtze wasn’t enough; you had the audacity to crawl into Black Dragon Stronghold! You orthodox pests must have lost all sense of fear!”

Namgung Hwang roared back.

“A coward, hiding up high, running away after abandoning his men. You dare to act so grand?”

Perhaps his words didn’t make perfect sense, but they had the intended effect, calming the unsettled Namgung warriors.

“Running away…?”

The Black Dragon King sneered, repeating Namgung Hwang’s words.

“Rant all you like. You’ll be in your graves soon, and it won’t matter.”

“This bastard!”

At that moment, Beopgye spoke up.

“Amitabha. I am Beopgye of Shaolin.”

“Ha! A mere elder, not even an abbot, dares to speak to me? The arrogance of Shaolin reaches the heavens!”

The Black Dragon King’s open mockery caused Beopgye’s face to twitch slightly.

“You have voiced your intent, but what do you intend to do here? Surely you don’t think you can handle us all alone?”

“Alone is enough!”

The Black Dragon King laughed loudly.

“Why would I need anyone else to deal with the likes of you? My saber alone is sufficient.”

He reached for the weapon strapped to his waist. With a metallic click, the hilt extended, transforming into a long, curved guandao.

Swoosh!

The Black Dragon King swept the air with his weapon, an arrogant grin spreading across his face.

“Who will face me?”

Before Namgung Hwang could respond, Beopgye stepped forward.

“Amitabha. If you desire, I can face you.”

“You?”

The Black Dragon King burst into laughter.

His laughter reverberated throughout the valley as he looked down at Beopgye with disdain.

“Get lost, small fry! Stay out of grown-ups' business. If you want to face me, bring your abbot!”

Beopgye’s face flushed crimson.

As a senior elder of Shaolin, when had he ever been treated with such contempt?

“Amitabha, Amitabha.”

He repeatedly recited his mantra, struggling to calm his seething anger.

“If it’s a worthy opponent you seek, then face me. Or are you going to tell me that even the Imperial Sword, Namgung Hwang, isn’t enough?”

“Imperial Sword, is it?”

The Black Dragon King sneered, twisting his mouth.

“You’re just spoiled brats grazing comfortably within the fence of the Namgung Family, trying to act like ferocious beasts!”

“What did you say?”

“Oh, did I hit a nerve?”

The Black Dragon King scanned them all with fierce eyes.

“Of course, I could take you all on alone. But… if you think that isn’t enough, then perhaps I should give you the spectacle you’re hoping for.”

“…What?”

At that moment, two figures stepped out from beside the Black Dragon King.

“True, it wouldn’t be much fun otherwise.”

“For the esteemed orthodox leaders, I suppose a few of us might still not be enough.”

Upon seeing them, Heo Do-jin’s face darkened.

‘Those two…’

He had never seen them in person.

Yet, he knew. Only a few in the world had the qualifications to stand side by side with the Black Dragon King. And one of those figures matched the description perfectly.

“…Great General Mang-geum.”

“It’s an honor, truly. To be recognized by the famous Heo Do-jin of Wudang.”

The man on the Black Dragon King’s left, Great General Mang-geum, grinned coldly, looking down at Heo Do-jin.

“Even taking only Heo Do-jin’s head would be a worthwhile prize. How could I miss an opportunity like this? Opportunities like this don’t come often.”

On the Black Dragon King’s right stood a nondescript man with an ordinary face.

But Heo Do-jin knew. If that truly was Great General Mang-geum, then there was only one man who could stand beside him.

A man whose identity could never be determined by appearance alone.

“The Thousand-Faced Killer…”

“Thousand-Faced Killer? That’s him?”

Byeok Hyeon-ja turned pale.

Great General Mang-geum and the Thousand-Faced Killer.

They were each the heads of their respective factions, Black Ghost Pavilion and Hao Sect, both within the Sinjoo Five Fiends.

This meant that three of the Sinjoo Five Fiends were gathered here.

‘Three of the Five Fiends?’

An immense force. Even if three of the Nine Great Sects or Five Great Families had gathered, victory could not be guaranteed.

“Leader!”

Byeok Hyeon-ja looked back at Heo Do-jin instinctively, but Heo Do-jin merely bit his lip, clearly as blindsided by this turn of events as the others.

‘Why have they gathered here?’

This shouldn’t be happening.

The four orthodox sects hadn’t recklessly invaded. They waged war against the Eighteen Waterway Factions for a single reason:

The unorthodox forces were incapable of uniting.

Even in past battles against the Demonic Cult, the unorthodox factions had never ceased their infighting, while the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Families stood by each other, though often begrudgingly.

The unorthodox sects would continue to attack each other, even with a blade from the Demonic Cult at their throats.

If the orthodox invaded the Eighteen Waterway Factions, the unorthodox should be tearing each other apart to seize territories. That was their nature.

“So how…?”

At that moment.

A group of martial artists appeared on top of the cliff. Moving at a calm pace, they looked down with cold, merciless eyes.

It was evident even from a glance that they were formidable masters.

‘He brought his men as well.’

The realization that such formidable warriors surrounded them created a suffocating pressure.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

The true weight came from the fact that these people had gathered here at all. Accepting that reality was far more daunting.

“Who…?”

Someone must have brought them all together, individuals who could never ordinarily coexist.

“Who…!”

Heo Do-jin’s shout was cut off.

Jingle.

A faint sound reached his ears.

It was the clear chime of metal, as if jewelry had brushed together.

A normal person wouldn’t have heard it from this distance; even Heo Do-jin had to strain to catch it.

Yet in Heo Do-jin’s ears, the soft sound was like thunder.

“Hmm.”

A slightly high-pitched voice rolled down the cliff.

At that moment, Heo Do-jin felt every hair on his body stand on end. His eyes opened wide as he fixed his gaze on the cliff’s edge.

Finally.

A man appeared at the top of the cliff.

Heo Do-jin gritted his teeth, seeing the scene unfold.

The Black Dragon King, Great General Mang-geum, and the Thousand-Faced Killer had all stepped aside, making way for this man.

Who in the world could compel such powerful men to stand aside?

Step. Step.

The man at the edge of the cliff was dressed in clothes too vibrant to ignore.

A blood-red robe, embroidered with a black dragon.

Skin as pale as a woman’s, powdered to a ghostly white.

An ivory coronet atop his jet-black hair.

And countless pieces of jewelry adorning his body and arms.

Heo Do-jin knew him. He had to know him.

Though there were countless people in the world, few looked like this man, and fewer still could stand where he stood.

There was only one.

“…The Conqueror.”

The Conqueror, Jang Il-so.

The moment he appeared, the air in the valley grew cold.

Different.

The Black Dragon King’s brutal aura was enough to halt the battle.

Great General Mang-geum’s icy presence was chilling, and the Thousand-Faced Killer’s unnervingly ordinary appearance was unsettling.

But Jang Il-so, the Conqueror, was different.

It wasn’t that he radiated immense energy or strength. He simply walked forward, looking down from the heights.

Yet it was as if the air itself constricted around them.

It wasn’t his martial power but his very presence as a man that overwhelmed them. His gaudy, outlandish attire didn’t make him look ridiculous but rather untouchable.

“A pleasure to meet you, honored leaders of the martial world.”

Jang Il-so brought his hands together and slowly lowered his head in a bow.

It was a common greeting, a mere formality for those in the martial world.

But even in that gesture, everyone in the valley felt chills running through them, their breath caught.

“I am Jang Il-so, Lord of the Ten Thousand Houses and leader of the Sapae Alliance.”

A bright smile spread across his face.

In that moment, Heo Do-jin saw it clearly.

Though Jang Il-so’s face bore a friendly smile, his eyes held no trace of mirth.

‘A snake? No…’

An imugi—coiled, fanged, and watching its prey trapped below, as if savoring their plight from atop the towering cliff.