Pay‑to‑Win King of Martial Arts (Novel) - Chapter 126 - Land of the Blind (5)

Chapter 126 – Land of the Blind (5)

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Translated by Heavenly Cat

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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Myeong-il and Yeo Hong-yang were standing blankly in the empty room. Because there was a lamp, it was not that dark, but darkness might have been better. They had recently been in conflict, so they were not speaking.

“…Mm.”

Only awkward sounds of hesitation drifted through the room. In truth, Myeong-il was not very different from usual. He was normally a man of few words.

Yeo Hong-yang, however, was a bit different. As a merchant, he found silence extremely uncomfortable. In the end, the first one to speak was Yeo Hong-yang.

“Hey, Daoist.”

“What?”

“It seems those fellows are feeling pretty confident, huh?”

Yeo Hong-yang said that while scratching his cheek awkwardly.

“Confident?”

“Yeah. They didn’t even take your sword away.”

“True enough.”

Myeong-il looked at the sword hanging at his waist. Then again, Yeo Hong-yang had no blade, and Myeong-il was still a child. To the black-path men, Myeong-il’s sword did not seem especially threatening.

“Even so, I can at least protect you.”

Myeong-il said that indifferently. Yeo Hong-yang knew it too. He knew that Myeong-il was originally that sort of person.

He felt a little ashamed of himself for not even speaking to the boy just because of some petty clash of wills. Of course Myeong-il was the same in that regard, but they were of different ages and were walking different paths. If he had truly been a mature merchant, he should have found some way to make peace with Myeong-il.

Suddenly, he felt as though he understood why Muk Hui-yeong had insisted that he become close with Myeong-il. If one embraced what was incompatible until it ceased to be incompatible, then in the end the vessel of the person grew larger. If he had put them together with thoughts like that, then just how vast a vessel did Muk Hui-yeong possess?

“Daoist.”

“Mm.”

“I was in the wrong.”

“…Whatever.”

Myeong-il turned his head away. Myeong-il too was in the middle of reproaching himself slightly for having failed to act like a Daoist of Wudang.

Through that brief exchange, each of them could confirm the other’s feelings. And now was not the time to sulk and stay silent.

“But what is Muk Hui-yeong thinking?”

“Who knows.”

“Shouldn’t we be helping him?”

“I don’t think either you or I can help.”

Myeong-il cut that off coolly. If it had only been the other black-path men with their sight, that would be one thing, but among the blind men there were many experts with their temples bulging. Muk Hui-yeong probably could not beat all of them either. So even Myeong-il could only wonder what scheme Muk Hui-yeong had in mind by doing this.

Just then, from far away, along with the clashing of weapons, screams rang out. Because it was a cave, the sound was layered, making the screams sound even sharper.

“…Insane.”

Yeo Hong-yang muttered blankly. The only outsiders here who could be producing noise like that were them. But Myeong-il and Yeo Hong-yang were standing still, so that sound had to be one Muk Hui-yeong was causing.

Myeong-il immediately shoved at the stone door. But it would not open. It seemed to have been blocked from outside.

Yeo Hong-yang tried ramming it with his shoulder and kicking it with the sole of his foot, but the door did not budge in the slightest.

“Don’t even think about coming out!”

Perhaps there was someone guarding outside, because a voice came through the door.

“Move aside.”

Ignoring that, Myeong-il sent Yeo Hong-yang to one side. Yeo Hong-yang stared blankly at Myeong-il.

‘Beautiful.’

It was funny that such a thought should occur just after they had reconciled, but Myeong-il’s Taiji Fist was soft enough to call dance to mind. How could he possibly think of pushing aside a thick stone door with movements like that?

Myeong-il’s palm, which had cut elegantly through empty air, touched the stone as though merely giving it a light push.

“…Daoist, is that really right?”

Yeo Hong-yang asked in disbelief. It was no more than placing a hand on it as though calling to the person in front of him. To think that would break that thick rock…

Crack. A fissure spread through the stone door, and it collapsed. Yeo Hong-yang’s mouth fell open. He had known martial artists lived in another world, but smashing down a stone door with motions like that was something he could not adapt to at all.

“Wh, what the!”

Naturally, the black-path men guarding the stone door also fell into chaos.

But more than half of those black-path men only knew how to swing a blade. They had never learned systematic martial arts.

They were no match for Myeong-il, who had been training properly in martial arts since childhood.

In an instant, Myeong-il used qinna techniques to strip the black-path men of their weapons, then struck the acupoints at the backs of their necks and dropped them.

“There they are, those bastards are out!”

“Get them! We were told it’s fine to kill them!”

Just then, several black-path men appeared from the far end of the corridor. Their bloodstained faces were visibly brimming with killing intent.

“Ha.”

Seeing that, Yeo Hong-yang’s heart dropped. It felt as though the strength drained not only from his legs but from his whole body.

For someone who had grown up a pampered young master, receiving such raw killing intent was something far too unfamiliar.

“Move!”

Myeong-il shouted as he yanked his hand.

Unsure what to do with his feet, Yeo Hong-yang started sprinting in the opposite direction at that shout. Fortunately, the black-path men chasing them had not learned advanced lightness arts either, so they could not exceed the level of an adult man running.

Myeong-il stayed behind Yeo Hong-yang and knocked away the daggers and hidden blades that came flying at them.

“They’re over there!”

Black-path men appeared at the far end of the corridor they were running toward as well. But this grave had at least four-way passages everywhere, so there were always side routes one could slip into. Myeong-il and Yeo Hong-yang immediately changed direction into a side passage.

Yeo Hong-yang’s breathing gradually grew more ragged. As a lay disciple of Wudang, he had done the minimum of stamina training, but naturally his endurance could not compare to black-path men who lived by the blade.

Before he knew it, Myeong-il was beside him, matching his pace. Yeo Hong-yang decided to spend some of his precious breath.

“Daoist. Could you see the stairs earlier in the dark?”

“It doesn’t seem like the time to be saying things like that.”

That was true enough. Behind them, the rattling sound of metal was still drawing nearer.

“Answer.”

Yeo Hong-yang barely dragged in breath and forced the word out again. Myeong-il looked at Yeo Hong-yang’s face. His complexion was cycling from red to pale. There was no way words spoken in a moment like this were meaningless.

“Yeah. I could see them. That’s why I held your hand and led you down.”

“Good.”

As he ran, Yeo Hong-yang tore down a lamp hanging by the wall and smashed it against the floor. The flame burning in the little lantern went out at once.

“From now on, we’re running while holding hands, Daoist.”

Yeo Hong-yang grabbed Myeong-il’s hand first. The sweat-soaked hand was hot. Myeong-il immediately understood what Yeo Hong-yang intended to do.

Among the men here who still had their eyes, there were not many with vision sharp enough to pierce darkness. That was only natural, since the Mara Blood Buddha had gathered together miscellaneous black-path rabble.

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

Myeong-il asked as they ran. Yeo Hong-yang was smashing down and putting out the burning lamps with his bare hands. One thing if he were a martial artist coated in protective aura, but Yeo Hong-yang was just an ordinary civilian.

“Of course it hurts!”

Indeed, the skin of Yeo Hong-yang’s hands had already been singed red. But Myeong-il could not put out the lamps himself. He had to knock aside the intermittent weapons flying in from behind with his sword. Since he was holding Yeo Hong-yang’s hand with one hand, each of them could only use one hand.

“Aaaagh!”

Once they had fully extinguished the lights in several corridors, the sounds of people colliding and falling rang out.

Certainly, Yeo Hong-yang’s move was more than sufficient to hinder the ones chasing them from behind. And in the darkened passages where the lights were already out, Myeong-il could easily cut down whatever lay ahead.

“You lunatics!”

The furious shouts of the black-path men came from behind. Thus Yeo Hong-yang and Myeong-il kept running.

“Haa, haa.”

Even so, that strategy had its limits. They did not know the escape route, and Yeo Hong-yang’s stamina was only that of a commoner.

In the end, it meant they were bound to go in circles until they were trapped. At a five-way intersection, Yeo Hong-yang looked down the passages. They had run around so much that of the five routes, four had gone pitch black.

Yeo Hong-yang let out a deep breath and released the hand he had been holding. Myeong-il looked at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Daoist. I think from here on you need to go alone.”

“What?”

Rarely, a crease formed between Myeong-il’s brows.

But Yeo Hong-yang, on the contrary, found himself smiling. He was absurdly delighted that he had managed to crack the icy face of that Daoist.

“I’m already at my limit.”

Yeo Hong-yang raised both hands. He spoke as though at ease, but he truly had reached his limit. His legs would no longer move, his head was spinning from drawing too much breath in too short a time, and the skin of his palms had turned white and swollen with blisters. Even to Myeong-il, it was clear that Yeo Hong-yang had no strength left to move further.

“I’ll carry you.”

“Come on. How would that possibly work. Just go alone.”

“Wudang does not abandon people.”

“A principle with no exceptions is a bad habit. At your age you’ve already become a stiff-necked old man.”

“Get on.”

“Wouldn’t it be more rational to survive and avenge me than to die together?”

“There is no choice except for us both to survive and get out.”

While Yeo Hong-yang and Myeong-il argued, the black-path men came closer and closer. They were thoroughly riled up.

“Go!”

Now Yeo Hong-yang was no longer grinning either. When he shouted that and smacked Myeong-il’s back, Myeong-il raised his voice in return.

“Why did you hit me!”

“Is that what’s important right now? I said go!”

Myeong-il’s eyes wavered. Was he really supposed to leave Yeo Hong-yang behind, just as he said? Was that truly the right choice? If he ran now, he could still escape.

But was that right? Everything he had learned in Wudang. Everything Wudang had bestowed. Everything he had experienced in Wudang. Everything he had felt there. All of it was shaking its head and saying no.

Myeong-il gripped his sword tightly in both hands, then shook his head to fling away distracting thoughts.

“No.”

“What no?”

“I wasn’t saying that to you. I was saying it to myself.”

Running away was not allowed. He had not been taught that way.

Before he knew it, the black-path men had blocked every path leading out of the intersection.

“You rat bastards. Finally got you.”

One of the black-path men stepped out, his eyes red. Myeong-il bit his lip. If it were one-on-one, he had confidence he could win, but there was no way he could defeat more than twenty men. And behind him was Yeo Hong-yang, whom he had to protect.

Just as Myeong-il focused on his sword and poured every bit of his mind into the moment, a leisurely voice completely unsuited to the situation sounded from somewhere.

“Whoa. You drove them together nicely.”

Everyone turned toward the source of that voice. There stood Muk Hui-yeong, drenched head to toe in blood, his sword hanging low.

“…?”

Everyone needed a moment to process what they were seeing.

The black-path men knew how strong those blind men who had lived here were. The fact that someone who should have died to the blind men was standing there could only mean one thing. Muk Hui-yeong had killed all the other blind men.

When Muk Hui-yeong took one step forward, the black-path men all took one step back, as if in agreement. The killing intent of someone who had cut down a great number of people still clung to Muk Hui-yeong.

As Muk Hui-yeong walked forward slowly, the black-path men even opened a path for him. Soon he was able to walk all the way to the stunned Yeo Hong-yang and Myeong-il.

“You held out well.”

Muk Hui-yeong looked at the two of them and grinned.

And at the center of the intersection, mist began to rise.