Chapter 816: Our Boys Are a Bit Rough (1)

 

Jo Gul's back was drenched in a cold sweat.

Even during the battle against the archbishop of the Demonic Sect, he had never once lost his composure. But now, his face was hardened to a degree he’d never experienced before.

His hand, gripping his sword, trembled slightly, and his tightly clenched lips had turned pale.

It felt as if a massive tiger was looming right in front of him, baring its fangs, ready to tear into his throat at any moment. The pressure was so intense that even breathing felt difficult.

“Huff…”

He took a short, deep breath, gripping his sword tightly to steady himself.

This is Jang Il-so…

A viper?

That word didn’t do him justice. This man was something far beyond that—an imugi, perhaps even a full-fledged demonic dragon.

And Jo Gul wasn’t the only one feeling that way.

He's strong.

Baek Cheon watched Jang Il-so with tense eyes.

Stronger than the archbishop… no, beyond even that.

The archbishop had been extraordinarily powerful. It was hard to deny that their victory back then had relied partly on luck.

But with just one exchange, it became abundantly clear: Jang Il-so was stronger than the archbishop.

In a way, the archbishop had been like a natural disaster—a force of nature with immense power that could sweep everything away. But in terms of precision and technique, he had lacked refinement.

Jang Il-so was different.

He’s just purely strong.

Swift, precise, and skilled.

The words Chung Myung had spoken when he first saw Jang Il-so echoed in Baek Cheon’s mind.

That thing is a monster.

Looking back, Chung Myung had never used such a description for anyone else. Chung Myung, who openly spoke his mind and even pointed fingers at Shaolin’s head, had called Jang Il-so a monster.

They should have understood the gravity of those words then.

He's clearly stronger than the archbishop.

It's not surprising that someone stronger than the Demonic Sect’s archbishop exists in this world, especially if the archbishop was already injured at the time of their fight.

But knowing that fact and facing it head-on are entirely different matters.

Unconsciously, Baek Cheon glanced at Chung Myung, feeling a sudden need to confirm the look on his face.

“……”

And then, Baek Cheon’s body seemed to deflate.

Chung Myung was smiling. He wore the expression of someone who was utterly delighted.

Like… like Jang Il-so himself.

“Not bad, huh?”

Chung Myung adjusted his grip on his sword, his tone carrying a mocking edge.

“So, even a Sapae dog has managed to climb this high.”

“Hmph.”

“But I’ll give you some credit for making it this far.”

Jang Il-so let out a soft laugh, his adorned rings jingling with the movement.

Chung Myung’s lip curled, revealing a hint of his canine teeth.

It wasn’t Jang Il-so’s confidence that bothered him, but rather the fact that it felt so natural to him.

Jang Il-so was clearly used to this.

Fighting in this hellish battleground, having people attack him from all sides, with one or two determined to kill him—this was something he was familiar with.

This calm confidence could only be possessed by someone who had survived countless battles, someone who lived and breathed life-or-death combat.

Like… the Plum Blossom Sword Master of old.

Gritting his teeth, Chung Myung lowered his stance, his gaze turning cold and sharp, resembling a predator ready to pounce.

“You arrogant bastard.”

His eyes locked onto Jang Il-so like a predator fixating on its prey.

“Hmmm.”

Jang Il-so watched Chung Myung and thought to himself.

Strange. Very strange.

These people were unlike anyone he had faced before.

To be blunt, they seemed insane.

Throughout his life, he had fought countless people, some of whom had spent decades training together in perfect harmony, others who specialized in coordinated attacks.

But none of them had ever made him feel this way.

A perfectly synchronized attack? A silent understanding of roles, an intuitive grasp of their own and each other’s strengths?

Pathetic.

He’d seen it all before.

What truly unsettled him was the way these people seemed to trust each other with their very lives.

They attacked with the certainty that someone would shield them from any blow coming their way.

Yes, theoretically, that level of trust might be possible.

But to move without a trace of hesitation? That wasn’t trust; it was madness.

What on earth have they gone through to build such a bond?

And…

That one.

Jang Il-so’s eyes followed Chung Myung like a snake.

He was the strangest of them all.

I knew he was extraordinary…

But his swordsmanship defied logic.

Words like bizarre or brutal weren’t enough to capture it.

The Hua Shan Divine Dragon’s sword was warped, twisted. It was like wielding an enormous axe with the finesse of the most delicate swordsmanship or like holding a pair of chopsticks while brandishing a peerless blade.

His technique, energy, and body seemed to work in complete dissonance, yet produced a powerful harmony.

If that sword ever fully harmonizes…

What kind of chaos would that unleash?

“Chilling.”

A shiver ran down Jang Il-so’s spine.

Just imagining it was like envisioning a massive landslide bearing down on him. A wide grin spread across his face as he began to laugh, baring his teeth.

These people… no, these children were bound to grow stronger.

Now that he’d experienced it firsthand, he was sure. These disciples would one day reach the pinnacle of the orthodox world. Five of them, no less. When each of them realized their full potential, no sect in the world would dare stand against Mount Hua.

So how could he not relish this moment?

He now had the chance to tear down their limitless potential, to crush and trample them beneath his feet.

There was no greater thrill.

“I thought you were just a pack of mutts, but you’re more like tiger cubs. Though that doesn’t bode well for you, I’m not the sort to let tigers live.”

Jingle, jangle.

As if to confirm the murderous intent rising within him, his many ornaments rattled in response to his surging energy.

“Then die here!”

Swish.

In an instant, Jang Il-so’s figure vanished, reappearing before Chung Myung without a moment’s warning.

Yoon Jong’s eyes widened in shock.

What surprised him wasn’t Jang Il-so’s movement technique, but the fact that Chung Myung’s sword was already aimed at Jang Il-so’s neck, as if predicting his appearance there.

Clang!

Chung Myung’s sword collided with Jang Il-so’s tightly adorned bracelets, and Baek Cheon’s sword, targeting Jang Il-so’s back, was instantly caught in Jang Il-so’s other hand.

“Too slow.”

With a slight twist of his wrist, Jang Il-so tossed both swords aside like playthings.

Bang!

He then directed a powerful punch at Baek Cheon, who swiftly raised his sword to block it. But even with his defense, Baek Cheon was blasted backward like a cannonball.

Simultaneously, Jang Il-so lunged at Chung Myung like a hawk, his fingers curled like claws as he slashed downward.

Slash!

Without a moment’s hesitation, Chung Myung threw himself back, narrowly evading the strike. His chest and abdomen bore five crimson slashes, staining his robes with fresh blood.

The force of Jang Il-so’s attack embedded itself into the cliff below, splitting the ground apart.

Boom!

“Ugh!”

Through the swirling dust, Yu Yiseol lunged forward, her sword cutting horizontally. Her strike, charged with every ounce of her energy, was the strongest she had ever unleashed.

Yet.

Clang!

With the screech of metal, her sword came to a sudden halt in midair.

Yu Yiseol’s eyes went wide.

As the dust settled, she saw him. Jang Il-so stood there, casually gripping her sword in one hand.

“Hm.”

Jang Il-so stroked his chin with his free hand, scrutinizing the Plum Blossom Sword he held.

“A fine blade.”

“Urgh!”

Before she could react, his foot slammed into her abdomen.

Ugh!

Yu Yiseol flew backward, coughing up blood.

“It’s a shame to let riffraff like you wield a sword of this caliber.”

The dust slowly cleared.

It had been a flawless attack, encapsulating everything the Mount Hua disciples had built up until now.

But that attack had been effortlessly dismantled.

Jang Il-so, who had rendered Mount Hua’s coordinated strikes useless, now strolled leisurely under the glaring sunlight, like a predator toying with his prey.

“There’s only one person here worthy of wielding a sword like that.”

Step, step.

Chung Myung, sporting claw marks across his chest, reversed his grip on his sword and strode toward Jang Il-so.

Jang Il-so let out a cold laugh. Just the sight of Chung Myung’s ice-cold eyes sent a thrill through his entire body.

What is it?

He couldn’t understand why he was feeling such exhilaration.

Potential was just potential. Until realized, it was merely a mirage.

So, right now, Chung Myung should mean little to him, nothing more than a pawn.

And yet, he couldn’t look away.

He felt that if he looked away, that sword through his flesh and ripping his head clean off.

“Pfft!”

The sound of someone spitting brought Jang Il-so back to his senses, tearing his gaze away from Chung Myung.

It was Yu Yiseol.

Though she had been sent flying by his kick, she was now staggering back to her feet, her expression unreadable as she spat out blood.

…Her insides must be completely twisted.

That kind of attack should’ve been enough to kill her outright. Yet, here she was, standing up, showing no signs of surrender.

And it wasn’t just Yu Yiseol and Chung Myung.

Step, step.

Baek Cheon, who had been blasted away by Jang Il-so’s punch, was also calmly walking back, along with Yoon Jong and Jo Gul, their eyes filled with fierce determination as they surrounded him.

Like a pack of wolves closing in on a tiger that had dared to invade their territory.

“Haha… Hahaha… Hahahahahaha!”

Jang Il-so erupted in another burst of crazed laughter.

To think he’d feel his blood boiling like this, not against Wudang’s Heo Do-jin or Namgung Hwang of the Namgung family, but against the mere disciples of Mount Hua!

“Jang Il-so.”

“Hm?”

Chung Myung grinned crookedly.

“You’d better be careful. Our boys can be a bit rough.”

“Oh, that’s…”

A manic gleam flashed in Jang Il-so’s eyes.

“…just what I wanted to hear.”

Energy exploded from Jang Il-so’s body. His blood-red robe swelled, his entire body thrumming with power as his many rings and ornaments rattled furiously, as if ready to shatter from the strain.

Even before this overwhelming sight, the Five Swords showed no hint of retreat.

Fwoosh!

Five streams of crimson energy surged toward Jang Il-so, relentless as they charged once more.

The aura around them radiated like the petals of a red plum blossom in full bloom.