The Lazy Young Master of the Jin Clan

“…”

Gwak Myeong was silent.

Also, Cheon Gasung and Cheon Yerang, who had rushed to the doctor with him, were also silent.

“Great Master.”

Gwak Myeong, who had come to his senses at the voice calling him, looked back.

An old doctor approached, bowing politely.

“How is he?”

At Gwak Myeong’s question, the old doctor spoke with a regretful face.

“The treatment went well. However, the extent of the injury is too severe. There is no guarantee that the bones will set properly, and even if they do, he will have to remain motionless for at least a year.”

“Phew… you’ve worked hard.”

“And more than anything… I think you, Great Master, should have a talk with him directly.”

“I understand.”

As the old doctor left with a bow, Gwak Myeong entered the hospital room as he had advised.

Jong Ryeo'ak was lying down with splints on both his hands and feet, wrapped in bandages.

As Gwak Myeong approached the bed, Jong Ryeo'ak said.

“What happened?”

As Jong Ryeo'ak, who had lost consciousness from the shock, asked about the situation, Gwak Myeong was worried about what to say and could not easily open his mouth.

Gwak Myeong, who had been silent for a long time, said with a heavy voice.

“We were defeated by the Blood-Sucking Sword Demon.”

“…”

Jong Ryeo'ak looked down at his own body with lifeless eyes.

His wrists and ankles were brutally broken.

It was difficult to move any of his four limbs, let alone walk.

Jong Ryeo'ak, who had been examining his body for a long time, buried his head deep in the pillow and asked.

“What on earth is that bastard?”

“I don’t know either. I’ve never even heard of such a martial art existing.”

“How did we escape?”

“…It’s thanks to Great Master Gu.”

“Great Master Gu is…”

Jong Ryeo'ak felt a deep sadness and despair from Gwak Myeong, who was standing with his head bowed, that he had never felt before.

Gwak Myeong was a strong martial artist.

Not only was his body strong, but his mental strength was also strong.

Such a Gwak Myeong.

Looked as if he would collapse at any moment.

Through this, Jong Ryeo'ak, who had realized that Gu Jucheol was dead, closed his eyes tightly.

‘Damn it…’

Jong Ryeo'ak had tasted despair twice so far.

The one who had given him the first despair was Jin Sohyun.

The lazybones of Shanxi.

The lazy young master of the Jin Clan.

To the lazybones who was known to have almost never left the clan until he became an adult because he hated moving so much.

Jong Ryeo'ak had felt a sense of inferiority.

The ones who had given him the second despair were Cheon Gasung and Cheon Yerang.

The two, who were already famous as the children of the White Moon Divine Lord, had surprisingly played with him, a famous late-stage prospect of the Jongnam Sect, with ease.

The belief that he would not be easily defeated by a martial artist of the same age had been shattered because of that.

And now.

He had lost both his wrists and ankles, unable to even properly block a single slash from a man of his own age.

‘Even if I train for decades more, will I be able to catch up to that bastard?’

He had to rest quietly for a year.

In the end, he had fallen behind again.

“It’s over.”

Jong Ryeo'ak raised his arm and covered his face.

“What do you mean, it’s over.”

At Gwak Myeong’s words, Jong Ryeo'ak let out a self-deprecating laugh.

“I have never been satisfied with myself. I have always trained without a break to become the best. But… look. I couldn’t even properly block that bastard’s slash and became a cripple.”

“…”

“Now, for a year, I can’t even walk, let alone hold a sword. What… hope is there for me.”

Gwak Myeong wanted to say that it wasn't so.

That if he didn't lose hope and tried, he could aim for the top again.

That he could become an excellent martial artist.

But such words could not come out of Gwak Myeong’s mouth.

‘What right do I have to say such things.’

As a master, he couldn't even properly protect his disciples, and he had to sacrifice a senior martial artist he had trusted and followed in front of his eyes.

Would anything change if he planted hope now?

Wouldn't it rather be driving Jong Ryeo'ak to his death?

After seeing the Blood-Sucking Sword Demon in front of his eyes, Gwak Myeong felt as if he had become a lost child.

“I want to rest.”

“Yes… rest well.”

In the end, Gwak Myeong had to leave the hospital room without even a word of comfort.

Jong Ryeo'ak, who was left alone, bit his lip.

Blood flowed from the torn lip, but he didn't care.

Creak—!

At that moment, the closed door opened, and the sound of footsteps was heard.

When he lowered his arm and checked the front, surprisingly, an unexpected person was standing there.

“What are you doing here? Did you come to laugh at me.”

Cheon Gasung slowly scanned Jong Ryeo'ak’s entire body with his arms crossed.

“If you’ve seen enough, get lost.”

As Jong Ryeo'ak got angry, Cheon Gasung uncrossed his arms and said softly.

“Yerang and I had to go through harsh training since we were young. My master was a person without mercy.”

“So what?”

“If I defended incorrectly, my bones would break. Since dodging was not allowed, we always had to block our master’s sword with a power that was not enough, and our bones always broke.”

“I don’t want to hear you brag.”

Despite Jong Ryeo'ak’s annoyed reply, Cheon Gasung continued his story without paying any attention.

“But even after our bones were broken, we had to continue our sparring with our master without missing a single day.”

Soon, Cheon Gasung put his hand in his bosom and took out a small pouch.

Inside it was a jade-colored pill.

“It’s the Gaweoldan, the spirit pill of the White Moon Palace. It doesn’t have a great effect on increasing internal energy, but it has the effect of making broken bones heal quickly.”

At the appearance of the Gaweoldan, which was said to make bones heal quickly, Jong Ryeo'ak’s eyes shook wildly.

“Three months. Since a martial artist’s recovery power is faster than a commoner’s, that should be more than enough time for the bones to heal completely.”

“What… Do you want.”

Jong Ryeo'ak glared at Cheon Gasung with a suspicious gaze.

From what he had seen so far, Cheon Gasung never cared about anything unless it was something that would benefit him.

But to offer Jong Ryeo'ak a precious spirit pill now.

In a situation where he couldn't help but be suspicious, Cheon Gasung opened his mouth.

“I will kill the Blood-Sucking Sword Demon. For that, my strength alone is not enough. I need someone to hold that bastard for me.”

“Ha!? So, you’re telling me to eat that and get better quickly and become your sword-fodder?”

“Yes.”

Cheon Gasung was confident.

“If you don’t want to, say so now. My time is more precious than yours.”

The hesitation was not long.

As Jong Ryeo'ak opened his mouth wide, Cheon Gasung dropped the Gaweoldan on it.

The Gaweoldan, which had landed on his tongue, melted quickly and flowed down Jong Ryeo'ak’s esophagus.

“You’ll have to keep your promise.”

With these words, Cheon Gasung left without even hearing an answer.

Jong Ryeo'ak laughed, enjoying the bitter taste of the Gaweoldan that remained on the tip of his tongue.

“I’ll be… whatever you want.”

***

Jin Sohyun, who was holding the black bamboo, fiddled with a brush, contemplating.

“Little brother. What are you contemplating?”

“It’s nothing.”

Jin Sohyun rolled up the small parchment used for letters and put it in the black bamboo.

And then he handed it to the carrier pigeon tower.

The young master of the carrier pigeon tower looked at the black bamboo with a subtle gaze and then fumbled with the surface of the black bamboo with his fingertips.

“It’s confirmed.”

The black bamboo was handed over to a carrier pigeon with unusually black feathers.

As the carrier pigeon with the black bamboo tied to it flew up vigorously, Jin Sohyun, who was watching it, left the carrier pigeon tower with Beomgang.

The carrier pigeon flying in the sky flew south.

Following that, a small hawk.

A Southern Eagle soared up from between the bushes.

The Southern Eagle, which had received the order, began to flap its wings, following the flying carrier pigeon.

Jin Sohyun, who was watching this from below, patted Beomgang’s back.

“From now on, it’s a battle of stamina. Can you do it?”

“Of course! The most important thing for a fist master is stamina!”

“Then let’s go.”

Jin Sohyun and Beomgang ran along the path, following the two birds flying in the sky.

***

“Heok… heok…!”

Beomgang, who had been running for three days, felt as if he would lose his mind.

Ju O had fallen behind early on, and So Soil had decided to look after him.

Beomgang felt his breath catch in his throat as he saw the Southern Eagle trying to get away.

‘Is this why they use birds to send letters?’

Until the carrier pigeon reached the third carrier pigeon tower, Jin Sohyun and Beomgang had crossed five mountains, eleven valleys, and had passed through four cities.

Of course, they couldn't even rest properly while running that long distance without a break.

The only water they had was to wet their throats when they passed a valley.

And they couldn't even dream of a meal.

“Is it over now?”

At Beomgang’s question, Jin Sohyun shook his head and lowered the water pouch he was holding to his mouth.

“If the Hao Sect is right, we’ll have to go through a few more carrier pigeon towers.”

“Oh… my goodness. Then we don’t know how much longer we have to run?”

“That’s right.”

Beomgang’s face turned black.

After a while, as the Southern Eagle, which was resting on a tree, flew up again, the two men who were taking a short rest also ran hard, following the departing Southern Eagle.

On the other hand, the ones who were moving busily were not only Jin Sohyun and his party.

Mangryang and the forty-nine monsters, who had received new news, stopped their meal and stood up one by one.

Perhaps because they had eaten enough.

The monsters’ bodies were much bigger than before.

“It’s… a reply.”

As he received the letter that was handed to him with trembling hands, Mangryang looked at it and then said.

“Read it.”

“What?”

“I said, read it.”

“Ah… yes!”

The flustered Hao Sect member hurriedly unfolded the letter and read the contents.

“Jin Sohyun is currently…”

“Guide me.”

The Hao Sect member’s eyes shook rapidly.

Every time he saw the blood on their lips, he felt a fear as if his blood was freezing, and also disgust.

But now he was being told to guide the monsters.

The Hao Sect member’s lips trembled.

“I… I’m slow, so another person…”

He could not finish his words.

Because the curved sword that Mangryang was holding was embedded in his forehead like a nail.

The remaining Hao Sect members, at the death of the deputy branch lord they had relied on after Jamyeonjiju had died, fell into a state of panic and trembled.

At that moment, Mangryang said.

“Who will guide me? One will live, and the rest will die.”

At his one word, the sect members who had been silent began to shout, competing with each other.

“I’m fast!”

“My eyes are brighter!”

“I know the surrounding geography well. Please spare me!”

Mangryang, who was coldly looking at the Hao Sect members who were competing to be his guide, grabbed the hair of the man who seemed to be the fastest among them and said.

“Stock up on food. We’re moving.”

At his one word, the monsters’ curved swords began to dance.

The surviving sect member could not even open his eyes at the terrible massacre that followed.

He covered his ears with his relatively free two hands.

Mangryang grabbed his hand, pulled it away from his ear, and said as if whispering.

“Guide me.”

***

“What happened?”

Beomgang and Jin Sohyun covered themselves with a shared blanket and waited for the Southern Eagle, being hit by the falling snow.

But the Southern Eagle did not move.

“Is there a problem?”

A small carrier pigeon tower hidden between the forests.

The Southern Eagle circled above the small wooden building, which at first glance could not be seen as a carrier pigeon tower.

At that, Jin Sohyun recalled what Ju O had said.

—If the Southern Eagle starts to circle in the sky… that means…

It was when there was a problem.

(End of Chapter)