Chapter 29

The Man Who Fights with Words

As So Gun-pyeong placed the payment on the table and stood up, he said, "Hey, Jeom So-i, this place is cramped. Let's go outside. And owner."

"Yes."

"The noodles were surprisingly good. I'll come again."

The head of the inn, still holed up in the kitchen, replied, "Oh, please come anytime."

As So Gun-pyeong leisurely left Chunyang Noodle House, Jang Deuk-soo, who had only just peeked out, asked me, "Jaha, what are you going to do? Are you okay? That guy's gaze was really fierce."

"Why did you joke with a guest who has such a fierce gaze?"

"I was nervous and said something stupid."

"What did you say?"

"I said his sword looked strange, like one brought from the southern barbarians."

"That sword is indeed from the southern barbarians."

"Damn it."

The term "southern barbarians" referred to the savages living in the south, so if the opponent truly hailed from the south, Jang Deuk-soo had just uttered a deeply insulting remark that could cost him his life.

Without realizing it, Jang Deuk-soo tightly gripped the lid of the pot with both hands.

I said, "You never know, so hold on to that tightly."

Jang Deuk-soo nodded repeatedly.

"Got it. Just don't die."

"That won't happen. Ah, bring me a kitchen knife."

"Why a kitchen knife?"

"I didn't bring my weapon. It's better than nothing."

Jang Deuk-soo hurriedly fetched a large kitchen knife and handed it to me.

"Here."

I grabbed the hefty kitchen knife and said to Jang Deuk-soo, "See you later."

"Can I watch?"

I pointed to the pot lid and said, "Just hold on to that and watch."

"Got it."

Facing So Gun-pyeong, who was in his early twenties, brought back memories of my hometown.

Although So Gun-pyeong would later become quite famous in the Black Path, he could not compare to my notorious reputation.

Suddenly, I thought: at least the skilled fighters in the small villages surrounding Il Yang County could not kill me.

It seemed that only those with a renowned reputation in the world would make me feel nervous.

This was not a matter of inner strength or martial arts.

It was about whether one had experience playing in the vast waters of the world.

At this point, the leader of the Black Cat Gang was merely a guy who fought fiercely with his brothers, so by my standards, he was just a rookie.

And the one who gained fame through sheer survival, the three-hundred-year-old man, was still a rookie in comparison.

In short, he was an unqualified opponent.

But isn't it quite unfair? So Gun-pyeong and I were facing each other, both considering the other a rookie.

I asked So Gun-pyeong, "By the way, why did you come alone without any subordinates? Are you being discarded?"

So Gun-pyeong's face, which had been relaxed until now, twisted.

"Is it necessary to make a fuss when dealing with someone like Jeom So-i? And don't call me by name in a friendly way. It's embarrassing..."

"Are you embarrassed to fight me?"

"Shut up."

"Isn't the advantage of the Black Path to come in numbers? Seeing your expression, it seems you really are being discarded."

"I don't understand why a village bumpkin like Jeom So-i is so arrogant."

"I also don't understand why a third-rate Black Path fighter is so confident."

So Gun-pyeong drew his weapon, the Night Blade.

I recognized that weapon.

The Night Blade was a peculiar sword with a narrow blade and an exaggerated curve, crafted in the southern barbarian lands.

For reasons unknown, it was a weapon made in the southern barbarians' territory.

It was a treasure sword that would later gain some fame, as it belonged to a man who had survived against all odds.

That sword had likely saved So Gun-pyeong's life many times.

Seeing me holding a kitchen knife, So Gun-pyeong asked, "What are you planning to do with that?"

I sniffed the kitchen knife.

"It still smells like garlic. I’ll let you know that if garlic seeps into a wound, it causes excruciating pain. It’ll be quite warm."

So Gun-pyeong couldn't help but laugh inwardly.

His Night Blade was meant to slice through tofu, after all.

I warned him, wearing a confident expression, "Remember this. A third-rate Black Path man, if you touch Jeom So-i, you'll face a kitchen knife that smells like garlic."

So Gun-pyeong, keeping his mouth shut, closed the distance between us with a blank expression.

The Night Blade was quite sharp and sturdy, so the kitchen knife was obviously at a disadvantage.

If the two blades clashed a few times, the kitchen knife's edge would be ruined.

I could overcome this by infusing my inner strength, but that would be inefficient.

Therefore, I did not recklessly thrust the kitchen knife forward.

I maintained my distance while observing So Gun-pyeong's movements and only displayed my footwork.

Of course, the Night Blade would not touch my body.

No matter how many tricks he used, how many feints he made, or how many decisive strikes he attempted, I could easily evade them.

Regardless of the inner strength I was building up, my ability to read the flow of combat and my experience were no different from the days when I was called the "Wild Horse."

The gap in practical experience between So Gun-pyeong and me was vast.

However, So Gun-pyeong's fighting style was quite impressive.

Perhaps because he was still young, he was filled with fighting spirit.

But if he were smart, he would realize that I was not attacking and was only evading.

After a while of launching one-sided attacks, So Gun-pyeong's expression began to harden, as if he felt a chill down his spine.

The once fierce killing intent and fighting spirit seemed to be gradually subdued by cold reason.

‘He has some awareness.’

I was reading his psychological state and the change in atmosphere completely.

After a while of attacking wildly, So Gun-pyeong suddenly stopped.

"Who are you? How do you know all my movements?"

"I'm Jeom So-i."

"Shut up! You Jeom So-i brat. That's not what I meant. Are you perhaps one of the Twelve Divine Generals, sharing the same status as the leader?"

"You ask and then tell me to shut up? You must be out of your mind. Just understand that you are the one who is lacking."

"Am I lacking?"

"You learned the pathetic martial arts that only the slaves of the Black Path practice."

"Slaves of the Black Path?"

"What you are using is neither proper martial arts nor normal footwork. You're just dancing with your sword, relying on experience."

So Gun-pyeong had never heard such words in his life.

However, the expression was somewhat strange.

Slaves of the Black Path?

So Gun-pyeong asked, "How is my martial art a slave's martial art?"

It was a thought I had held since my previous life that the entire force led by the Twelve Divine Generals were slaves of the Great Southern Tyrant.

"Actually, the term 'slave' is too generous. You are not a proper Black Path. You are all puppets of the Great Southern Tyrant, mere pawns, fighting cocks, playthings, a cleanup crew for the Great Southern Tyrant, a group providing funds and women to the Great Southern Tyrant, and a bunch of trash who lick the Great Southern Tyrant's backside..."

"Shut up!"

"Look at the sorry state of the Twelve Divine Generals, who are disciples of the Great Southern Tyrant. They wear those ridiculous masks, kill on command, train when told, take on tasks, and compete in martial arts to determine their ranks, all to flatter the Great Southern Tyrant with money and women. Among them, you are a bottom-tier slave receiving orders from a slightly higher-ranking slave, a trashy Black Path, a rabbit slave while alive, and discarded when no longer useful. You think you're something special, but you are the fool who can't even defeat a single Jeom So-i."

In an instant, So Gun-pyeong's eyes turned bloodshot from the storm of insults I hurled at him.

For a moment, I felt my strength wane, as if my inner strength was slipping away.

"......"

"What's wrong? Did you think you were some impressive Black Path fighter?" I continued to verbally assault him before throwing a punch.

"You don't need to feel too wronged. The Great Southern Tyrant, that old pervert, will eventually die by my hand too."

At that moment, Jang Deuk-soo, who had been watching, let out an involuntary exclamation.

"What a fierce insult."

Hearing this, So Gun-pyeong turned to look at Jang Deuk-soo.

Jang Deuk-soo, startled, raised the pot lid, but fortunately, So Gun-pyeong did not attack.

Words like slave, puppet, pawn, fighting cock, and plaything swirled chaotically in So Gun-pyeong's mind.

It was the first time in his life that someone had left him so dazed by their words, making him even more flustered.

So Gun-pyeong, who was too excited, took a deep breath and glared at me.

"Keep talking."

You see this?

I was a man confident enough to verbally beat someone until they bled from anger.

I grinned.

"The Twelve Divine Generals, being the top-ranked, are said to learn more martial arts from the Great Southern Tyrant if they rank first in the competition. But what do you plan to do with that? You’re just a fool who learns martial arts like picking up crumbs.

The Great Southern Tyrant is just one of many skilled fighters in the Black Path. Even if he is the number one in the Black Path, it doesn't mean anything. And the Great Southern Tyrant would hardly pass on his techniques to someone with such a narrow mind.

You are merely a pawn of the Great Southern Tyrant, just playthings. I must repeat, you are a slave of a slave. What a rare and pitiful life."

"Is that all you have to say? If you think you're so great, then you won't back down now. Let's settle this for good."

Recovering his breath, So Gun-pyeong announced another attack, to which I replied, "Gun-pyeong, an upright man does not live like a slave. You need to get hit to come to your senses."

I raised the rectangular kitchen knife that Jang Deuk-soo had handed me and infused it with my inner strength.

The kitchen knife, engulfed in flames, blazed red.

Whoosh!

The kitchen knife, slightly larger than my palm, transformed into a fiery shape, with red flames rising like a mirage.

Having trained in the flame realm, the results of my efforts shone through first in the kitchen knife.

So Gun-pyeong, who was about to launch a preemptive strike, looked at the blazing kitchen knife with surprise.

The red light emanating from the short knife took the shape of a long sword.

So Gun-pyeong realized immediately that he could not win.

However, his pride would not allow him to retreat.

I said to So Gun-pyeong, "Do you still see me as a fool? You can either kneel and surrender there or get ready to take a beating. You rabbit slave."

I wrapped the flame realm's secret technique, Flame Fire Fragrance, around the kitchen knife.

Although its formal name is Flame Fire Fragrance, I call this technique 'spicy flavor.' It refers to the subtle spiciness that permeates fried rice.

To those who do not understand martial arts, my current posture and appearance might seem ridiculous.

After all, I was holding the kitchen knife high in my right hand.

But I can assure you, this posture would not seem funny to So Gun-pyeong.

The moment he heard me tell him to kneel, the veins on So Gun-pyeong's forehead bulged.

Which Black Path man in the world would kneel to a young man from Jeom So-i?

Thinking he would die fighting, So Gun-pyeong poured all his strength into the Night Blade and swung it at me.

A murky, unrefined aura wrapped around the Night Blade and surged toward me.

It was a fierce blade wind filled with considerable energy.

‘Not bad for a bug.’

Indeed, there was momentum.

I threw the kitchen knife, wrapped in Flame Fire Fragrance, toward the incoming blade wind.

The ordinary kitchen knife tore through the blade wind with a terrifying sound.

Did the sound of the kitchen knife echo like the cry of Jeom So-i's anger from a past life? Or was it just my own illusion?