Chapter 356: Journey to Naknyeong (9)

Neungpami-bo is both a footwork technique and a formation technique.

It is rooted in the eight transformations of the Eight Trigrams, the principles of Yin and Yang, and the 108 directional methods derived by dividing the Thirty-Six Astronomical Positions into the Three Essentials.

Thus, there are precisely 1,728 possible paths, and Neungpami-bo is the method of advancing along the safest of them.

And so, each time one calculates one axis of the Eight Trigrams and its 216 transformations, an afterimage is added.

They say that once one reaches mastery, the eight afterimages vanish like illusions.

Yeon Pa couldn’t believe her eyes.

This dumb girl? Seriously?

“Hmph. You’ve got a few tricks for your level.”

“I’ve always been a bit tricky.”

“Tsk, tsk. That’s the problem. When a girl is praised, she should know how to blush, but instead you’re just bouncing around like some headless chicken.”

“Hehe.”

Qing’s ultimate technique—smiling in a way you couldn’t hate!

Yeon Pa let out a deep sigh at that.

“In the past, there was a strange, mysterious sect in the martial world. Their martial arts were said to split mountains and cleave the Yellow River—a truly earth-shaking force.”

“A mysterious sect? What sect was that?”

“No one knows their name. They had a bizarre rule: anyone who learned the sect’s name had to die. So naturally, the only ones alive who knew it were themselves. All outsiders died, so how would the name ever spread?”

“So?”

“Neungpami-bo is precisely one of that mysterious sect’s martial arts. You asked why it only appeared later? Originally, Neungpami-bo was created as a paired technique with Bukmyeong Divine Art. Without mastering the Divine Art, even if you master the footwork’s transformations, you can’t stray from the set path.”

“Ah.”

Bukmyeong Divine Art.

That was the martial art you supposedly got as a reward if you fully mastered all ten of the Ten Demonic Arts.

“So then... Yeon Pa, are you from that mysterious sect—”

“Did I not say I don’t know the name?”

“Right.”

If Yeon Pa truly belonged to that sect, she wouldn’t say “I don’t know.” She’d say “I can’t tell you.” So in a way, she already implied she wasn’t part of it.

Or maybe she could’ve just said no?

Yeah, maybe face-reading really is science.

“You’re making a terribly sulky face for a girl. You can’t even control your expression, sigh.”

“Then how did you get Neungpami-bo?”

“It’s the secret art of a fallen sect. Isn’t it normal for anyone to end up with it?”

“Oing? The sect fell? But their martial arts could supposedly destroy the world?”

“Word is, they self-destructed fighting over who’d inherit their arts. Hmph. A sect whose own members can’t even speak its name? Only those ashamed of themselves hide their identities. Just like the lowborn scum serving Wangya, including this old woman here. So naturally, they were doomed.”

Qing thought of the slaves of Freedom.

Yeon Pa, that old hag. Gyeon No, that old dog. Yang Sangguja, that thief and mongrel. Chang Yeoin, the same.

All of them bore that red number floating above their heads, marking them as villains.

Wait, wasn’t Gyeon No different? Who knows.

“Then... Jeonryun Mageop also came from that mysterious sect—”

“That one didn’t. That was pure luck.”

So Neungpami-bo was something she randomly picked up, and Jeonryun Mageop came from pure luck too?

Does that mean Yeon Pa is some kind of martial arts scavenger?

Does Yeon Pa use a martial arts spear too?

But that thick layer of regret, the bone-deep remorse coating her voice, made Qing unable to pry further, so she changed the topic instead.

“So, what kind of demonic art is Jeonryun Mageop? I’ve got to know if I’m going to learn it.”

“It’s this kind of martial art. The Qi energy rotates like a wheel, doubling its power. Mm, right. Your eyes are broken, aren’t they.”

Yeon Pa raised her Qi to demonstrate the art, only to frown as she caught the expression on Qing’s face: brows furrowed, utterly blank.

What the hell is that? I seriously can’t see a thing.

Yeon Pa let out a long sigh.

“Can’t you bring it a bit closer? I can’t see it well from here.”

“Ha, you’re asking me to shove deadly Qi in your face? You stupid girl, you ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) don’t even realize how dangerous that is.”

“You’re not going to attack me, are you?”

“Tsk. Fine. Is this close enough?”

“A little more.”

“It’s dangerous, so just watch from there. This is Jeonryun Mageop.”

It’d be nice to see it up close, but if it’s dangerous, no point pushing it.

Qing squinted hard to force her eyes to focus.

In Yeon Pa’s hand, the Qi hovered, jagged in shape, resembling saw teeth.

Wait—it’s spinning!

The saw blade slowly started to rotate, gaining more and more speed until it left behind afterimages.

Eventually, the Qi thickened, widening to the length of the saw teeth themselves.

It felt oddly familiar to Qing.

Wait... this is basically a chainsaw. A damn chainsaw.

“Since it’s a Qi art, you’re altering the nature of the Qi itself? Like with Sword Aura, Blade Aura?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

A chainsaw. How the hell is anyone supposed to resist that?

Qing gulped.

“Any side effects? Besides turning feral, because it’s a demonic art.”

“Your eyes develop a mark. It’s called Jeonryun Eyes. If you use this in front of others, you might as well be screaming, ‘I’ve mastered Jeonryun Mageop, one of the Ten Demonic Arts!’”

“Oh... so basically, only use it when killing someone who definitely has to die?”

“What... what the hell did you just say?”

Yeon Pa doubted her own ears.

Did this come out of a righteous heroine’s mouth?

Using demonic arts exposes you no matter what.

So, only use it on someone who has to die anyway.

Of course, as if that ever works.

Whenever you use demonic arts, your killing intent spikes. Your emotions swell. It just happens.

“Maybe if I fight with a veil on? Can you show me what Jeonryun Eyes looks like?”

“Where are you sticking your face, girl?”

“I can’t see otherwise.”

“Such a shameless girl. How can a young lady just shove her face around like that?”

“C’mon, hurry.”

Qing’s eyes sparkled, glittering like a puppy staring at its owner holding a food bowl.

With a bitter face, Yeon Pa operated the Qi of Jeonryun Mageop.

In her pupils, three ghostly flames appeared, slowly chasing each other’s tails in a spiraling rotation.

“Whoa... That... looks very concerning. Like, stormy, ominous.”

“It appears when your emotions swell, so quit making ominous comments about massacres and such. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be some priestess girl?”

“You’re the one who said the world is grim.”

“You really never lose an argument, do you?”

“Hehe.”

“Quit laughing, you idiot. A girl shouldn’t grin so freely. Haa... seriously. You’re a real problem. Smiling like that... You shouldn’t show your teeth to anyone but your husband. What are you planning to do, tsk tsk. Close that wide mouth of yours already.”

“Haha.”

Qing obediently closed her mouth and chuckled through her nose.

Yeon Pa let out a heavy sigh.

This girl... really...

The urge to smack her upside the head was unbearable, so naturally, her Jeonryun Eyes surfaced again, swirling.

“It’s late. Go to sleep.”

Yeon Pa continued,

“Mm, right. Wangya might be sensitive to the cold, so go keep him warm. I know men and women should keep distance, but this time... just do it for me.”

It was a thoroughly selfish request.

But it didn’t work.

“No, I’ll take night watch today. You go rest and recover.”

“We’re scouting enemy territory tomorrow. You need sleep.”

“A transcendental doesn’t suffer from one sleepless night. Your recovery is more important, and helping Wangya properly depends on that, too. You’re still limping.”

“What nonsense. You think I’m some useless old hag? I’m perfectly fine. You’re blind—what do you know?”

“Come on, when you walked over earlier, I could hear your footsteps dragging. I’m fine, so go sleep, or at least work on your Circulatory Pattern. I’ll guard the place myself.”

“Khm. Lying around like a corpse, yet sharp as ever. You little brat, don’t even pretend to listen to your elders. Such disrespect, tsk tsk.”

Qing translated Yeon Pa’s grumbling.

“Thanks, but it’s a young person’s job. Rest.”

“Hmph.”

And so, Yeon Pa returned to the rock crevice.

Sprawled out again, limbs stretched, Qing tried to change the topic in her head to something less upsetting.

How the hell is anyone supposed to resist a chainsaw?

Except... it’s not electric. It’s Qi-based. A Qi-saw?

Because it’s a Qi Art, a Strong Qi Saw?

Or simply a Rotating Saw?

The side effect of her eyes turning ominously cool based on her emotions—whatever.

By that logic, her Self-Electrifying Art should’ve made her body crackle every time she got annoyed, but thanks to the Martial Spear—or maybe because her body isn’t exactly human—or due to the singularity of her Dantian, she could perfectly control it.

Though, when using the art, hiding it was impossible.

But as long as she only used it on people marked for death, it’d be fine.

In bright light, with a veil, no one would notice the mark.

At night, though... it glows so damn much even with a veil, she’d probably get caught.

Honestly, she wasn’t learning this just because it looked cool.

Even though... it did.

And it wasn’t just for that satisfying hand-feel, either.

Even though... slicing with a rotating saw, feeling the buzz-buzz-buzz sensation in her hand—just imagining it made her mouth water.

But no, not for that.

There were freakishly tough enemies.

Those damn Grand Laws, the ones with “Blood” in the name.

They probably had that stuff too.

Strikes that should’ve cleaved them in half barely cracked their skulls, Qi blasts meant to sever arms got lodged in shoulder bones.

It’s fine against one or two. But what if swarms of them come?

Qing learned the hard way in her first year just how dangerous it was when your weapon got stuck inside an enemy.

So yeah. A stroke of fortune—the perfect martial art arriving precisely when needed. And Master suggested she try a Qi Art too.

Yeon Pa herself said, “You learned Daoist Arts, what’s one Demonic Art more?”

She already knew several. One more wouldn’t suddenly drive her mad.

It’s definitely not for the hand-feel.

It’s purely out of necessity.

An extremely logical decision.

Besides, if Bukmyeong Divine Art ever became relevant, this was the perfect preparation.

As Qing thought all this, an ominous glint already flickered through her pupils.

Logical, my ass. Qing was on night watch.

With one noble clueless about martial arts, and one half-dead injured person.

She damn well knew now wasn’t the time to flip her eyes back, stretch out, foam at the mouth, and make weird noises in full vulnerability.

Though... maybe she just wasn’t thinking.

And so, Ximen Qing.

One of the Ten Demonic Arts—Jeonryun Mageop, mastered to the Sixth Level.

****

In the tent pitched on Namsan Mountain.

A man clad in silk military robes, wearing a helmet adorned with a fierce rooster head—quite the striking image.

“The beast—haven’t you found it yet?”

“No, sir. We haven’t.”

“It didn’t escape, did it?”

“No, sir. It couldn’t have. There are no abnormalities along the perimeter.”

“What if it slipped through and no one noticed?”

“These are the finest soldiers. Not quite one-against-a-hundred, but when grouped, they could stall even ten thousand foes.”

“Hmph. Good enough. If it hasn’t escaped, it’s just a rat trapped in a jar. How’s the firebreak construction coming?”

“Completed, sir. But the geomancer says many weak points remain, so reinforcements are underway.”

The rooster-helmeted commander grinned viciously.

“Hmph. So, we can light the fire anytime? Should we burn them now?”

“If the fire spreads, all of the Namsan Range, and even Hunan, Guizhou, Guangxi, Guangdong, will be engulfed. Casualties will number in the tens of thousands.”

The reporting officer, judging by his splendid armor, clearly a general, spoke thus.

But the rooster-helmed man only sneered.

“Hmph. The Emperor wishes to burn a little of his property, and you worry about those lowborn insects? Leeches living off the empire’s mountains—so what if a few burn? Tens of thousands? When Zuo Zhu buried over a hundred thousand alive in Xuzhou, did anyone care? Tens of thousands won’t even make a ripple.”

This—was the spirit of Zhonghua.

When Zuo Zhu performed human sacrifices of Xuzhou citizens, when Dong Zhuo’s tyranny killed millions, they said the deaths meant nothing.

In the distant future, Zhonghua’s leaders would inherit that spirit—drought? Floods? Plagues? What’s a few million in a nation of billions? That’s how grand politics is done.

“But—”

“Enough. That demonic old woman is gravely wounded, isn’t she? She won’t escape anytime soon. Finish reinforcing the firebreaks quickly.”