Ch 27
“What are you doing right now?”
Jang Yi-seo asked incredulously as he watched Mao imitate his movements.
“What’s it look like? Copying my master.”
“Huh?”
“If you’re going to teach me, do it properly from start to finish. Don’t whine over losing some petty trick.”
“That’s not the issue.”
Your posture is wrong, idiot. When did I ever make a fist? I struck with an open palm.
“See? It’s identical. Has to be identical. You can’t fool the eyes of a genius like me, Mao!”
Let me correct that. This kid’s a certified moron.
“Just focus on your own training. No need to hurt yourself mimicking me.”
“No. From now on, I’ll copy everything you do. That’s how I’ll surpass you. And then I’ll nag you exactly like this.”
Suit yourself. Jang Yi-seo shrugged and turned to the boulder.
“Begin.”
Mao’s face hardened with determination as he steadied his breathing.
After endless failures, he’d finally mastered the theory. Success was all that remained.
“Internal energy isn’t about gradual release… It’s about cutting it free. The more you unleash at once, the stronger the force. So this… is the More-Merrier Fist! HYAAAAAH!”
Crack!
Mao’s eyes flashed open as he threw a punch.
SWOOOOOSH!
A deafening roar erupted as yang energy cascaded from his hand like a waterfall. The moment his fist halted three inches from the rock—
KABOOOOOM!
—a thunderous blast tore through the air as though ripping the world itself.
What… was that?
Jang Yi-seo’s ears rang, but his shock wasn’t from the noise.
It was the colossal flaming fist-shaped energy that had cratered the boulder. Scorching heat radiated outward, forcing him five steps back. He shielded his face with his sleeve, stunned.
“What… is this?”
The boulder now bore a gaping, smoldering hole large enough to walk through—still crackling with molten heat.
He was supposed to release a palm strike. Since when did that become a fire fist*?*
“What the hell did you just do?” Jang Yi-seo demanded.
“Ha! Hahaha! UAHHAHAHA!” Mao cackled wildly, pounding his chest. “I, the genius Mao, have attained enlightenment!”
“Enlightenment?”
“My secret technique—the More-Merrier Fist (多多益拳)!”
“You’ve lost your mind.”
“Foolish Jang Yi-seo! Can’t you see? I’ve ascended to the ranks of supreme masters! Behold the power of my creation!” He gestured grandly at the ruined boulder.
“...Do it again.”
“Think I can’t? Watch closely! MORE-MERRIER FIST!”
Mao punched again. Not even a breeze stirred.
“Huh? Why isn’t it working?” Jang Yi-seo stared like he’d grown a second head.
“Why? Can’t gather energy?”
“No! Nothing’s coming! What’s wrong?!”
Of course nothing’s coming—you emptied your dantian in one go! Jang Yi-seo barely resisted facepalming.
“Jang Yi-seo! Something’s wrong! I can’t—I can’t move! Is this Qi Deviation?!”
As if Qi Deviation strikes that easily.
‘Others need hours of meditation to replenish energy, but you? A few minutes of breathing will do.’
The Heavenly Yang Body’s true terror lay in its effortless circulation of energy.
Jang Yi-seo glared at the boulder. Who blows their entire energy reserve in one attack? Yet Mao’s flawless meridians and pure yang energy allowed precisely that—producing a strike beyond even peak masters.
Stupid? Yes. But technically innovative. Even if “More-Merrier Fist” sounded ridiculous.
As Jang Yi-seo turned to leave, an arrow zinged past his ear.
Assassins.
He spun, snatching the projectile mid-air. “Seventh Prince! Take cover!”
Swish-swish-swish!
Arrows rained from the forest. Jang Yi-seo’s dagger became a silver blur, deflecting shafts—until one serpentine shot slipped through.
Mao!
Thunk!
The arrow buried itself in Jang Yi-seo’s outstretched arm.
“Your energy… still depleted?” he gritted out.
“Y-yes, but your—”
“Hide. Now.”
As Mao scrambled behind the boulder, Jang Yi-seo snapped the arrow shaft. Paralytic venom—nonlethal. Amateur.
“If you’re using poison, commit properly,” he taunted the forest. “This half-hearted effort reeks of petty grudges.”
[Hihihihi!]
Eerie laughter echoed from everywhere and nowhere—Six Harmonies Sound Transmission. Cold sweat dripped down Jang Yi-seo’s neck.
[You killed Mak-gwi. My rage burns so hot it’s hilarious!]
Mak-gwi’s sworn brother—Yo Do-soon, Rank 5 of the Slaughter House: The Lustful Poison Archer.
[Time to die, little ant!]
Arrows came in relentless waves. Jang Yi-seo calculated trajectories—single shooter, rapid-fire—and lunged toward the source.
Thwip!
An arrow grazed his right shoulder from the east. Impossible—
[Hihihi! Did you think finding me’d be easy? Tell King Yama your grave-picking skills suck!]
Jang Yi-seo’s arms went limp as paralysis spread. The final volley descended—
“JANG YI-SEO!”
Ho-ryong Hall, Mahae Mountain
The impregnable fortress’ gates stood inexplicably open, guards arrayed in formal ranks.
“Today’s the day,” Hall Master Ji Dae-ho murmured, eyes fixed on the mountain path. The Seventh Prince’s third—and likely final—attempt to open the Heavenly Demon Hall’s gates.
A subordinate ventured, “What if he fails again?”
“Then the Young Sect Lord position becomes forever out of reach.”
Yet… Ji Dae-ho’s lips twitched. If by some miracle he succeeds…
…it’ll be because of you*, Jang Yi-seo.*
#To the Heavenly Demon Hall (1)
