The Gambler
The ones in front charged forward, those in the middle moved to the sides, and the ones at the back swayed their heads, preparing their weapons.
I categorized these men by their weapons.
Instead of fighting people, I dealt with the incoming tridents, straight swords, long swords, and judge's pens that aimed to kill me.
I had no choice but to naturally retreat while deflecting their weapons.
Amidst this chaos, long spears and halberds sliced through the air toward me, while the missed projectiles embedded themselves in the ground and walls.
I was pushed back to the great hall, kicked the door open with my foot, and retreated outside.
I took a deep breath, realizing how refreshing the outside air was.
Inside the great hall, the stench from greedy old men and the likes of Dokgosaeng mixed together, making every breath unpleasant.
Holding my sword, I looked around.
Strange folk from this land gathered to watch the fight, but they did not seem overly excited.
"It's been a while since I've fought," they all wore expressions that conveyed this sentiment.
However, when the leaders of the Black Line Society appeared, gripping their weapons tightly, their eyes widened in surprise.
In an instant, the leaders surrounded me in a formation.
The leader of the Black Line Society stepped forward and said, "Leaders, do not let your guard down just because he is a master. Sub-leaders, do not rashly intervene. Those who die or are injured will end here."
I examined the hands of the leaders holding their weapons.
Most of them were missing several fingers.
Suddenly, I recalled something my grandfather used to mutter.
"Gambling men should have their hands cut off."
He never explained why or which man made him say that.
He would occasionally say such things when gambling was mentioned at the inn.
My grandfather's words echoed in my ears.
As the fight resumed, I responded with the mindset of a cockfighting master.
I would thrust when I saw an opening and would not take the bait if I sensed a trick.
I parried honest attacks and selectively dealt with unconventional ones.
The leaders' offensive grew fiercer.
Suddenly, poison darts flew toward me, and the number of incoming projectiles increased.
The screams also grew louder.
Missed projectiles flew off and struck bystanders in the neck.
One man, covered in poison darts, screamed and ran off somewhere.
I intentionally moved my body frequently to take in the atmosphere around me.
Even with twenty men launching a fierce attack, I held my ground firmly, and only then did I see anxiety in the leaders' eyes.
Sensing the change in their psychology, I reduced my defense and launched my own attack.
As I switched to offense, my mouth opened reflexively.
"Gambling men should have their hands cut off."
I moved lighter and faster than when I was defending, caught the middle of a spear with my left hand, and swung my sword to sever a leader's wrist.
Thwack! I had no time to observe the pained expression of the man.
Dodging a straight sword and halberd, I unleashed a gust of wind at the eyes of a man wielding a trident.
At the moment his head tilted back, I cut the wrist connected to the trident and moved on.
In front of me, one judge's pen drew a character, while another approached with a point.
The character was a feint, and the point was a deadly strike.
I leaped up, escaping the range of the feint and deadly strike, then, in an inverted position, I struck down at the man's vital points with a technique.
The man holding two judge's pens stiffened momentarily, protecting my back.
In that instant, a barrage of projectiles like fishhooks poured down.
The projectiles were in the form of spikes that pierced the ground.
I grabbed the back of the stiff man's neck, turned him around, and used him as a shield.
With a sound like a barrage, the fishhooks embedded themselves.
Some bounced off and rolled across the ground.
In the meantime, a weapon fell from behind onto my shoulder.
I slipped the sword I held in my right hand into my left armpit and unleashed a surge of energy.
With a whoosh, the energy pierced through the neck of the man who had raised his straight sword.
"Cough!" I looked around again, assessing the situation.
While the leader of the Black Line Society remained still like a king on a chessboard, five or six men had died or been injured, while the rest still maintained their gambling spirit.
When would the king move? I could not tell.
Perhaps he was waiting until the very end to maintain his role as king.
I shook off the blood on my sword and glanced at the man standing behind me.
He was using his free hand to staunch the blood flowing from his neck.
I kicked his abdomen to block the incoming projectiles, then spun backward while unleashing a long surge of energy.
With a screech! The three men approaching with spears fell backward as they tried to block the energy.
Gradually, the leaders were losing stamina, and their internal energy was depleted, unable to properly receive the energy.
Beyond them, I briefly made eye contact with Dokgosaeng, who stood with his arms crossed.
Dokgosaeng shifted his gaze to the leader of the Black Line Society, who was quietly waiting. "......"
Despite the leaders dying like this, the leader of the Black Line Society did not give any particular orders to the other sub-leaders.
"Are they planning to kill each other?" As I speculated on the leader's thoughts, I easily severed the wrists of the remaining leaders.
Since twenty men had attacked me, I had focused on defense, but once half were severely injured or dead, the tide of battle shifted dramatically.
I primarily chased after them, deflecting their weapons once or twice, then cutting their wrists.
I finally severed the wrists of all the remaining leaders and looked at the leader of the Black Line Society.
The cries of pain from the elders of the Black Line Society mixed together.
The leader of the Black Line Society, who had been watching the leaders' defeat closely, finally spoke. "...... You have worked hard."
I could not tell if he was speaking to the leaders or to me.
But the moment I saw the leader's expression, I realized it was a message for everyone.
The leader of the Black Line Society, holding two daggers, charged at me and unleashed a wind of blades in an "O" shape.
I countered the incoming wind with my own, creating a fierce gust as I deflected the leader's daggers.
Even treating the leaders as mere servants, his attack was fierce and overwhelming.
As I deflected the daggers, I thought to myself that this old man must have been as reckless as Dokgosaeng in his youth.
After clashing blades over twenty times, the sword I wielded began to lose its edge.
In terms of lifespan, I was older than the leader of the Black Line Society.
The leader's daggers, despite their rough appearance, were as solid as a young man's muscles.
During the fight, my old sword ultimately broke first.
In that moment, I pushed off the ground with my right foot, gliding backward while low in the air.
The leader of the Black Line Society warned those around him.
"Anyone who hands over a weapon to this man..."
I stretched my arms out to the sides and unleashed the Absorption Technique.
With the sound of a small whirlwind swirling, two weapons were drawn to my hands.
A halberd in my right hand.
A judge's pen in my left.
I shook my head slightly.
"This is a bit much."
I should have seen what was there and pulled it.
I had never heard of a martial artist wielding both a judge's pen and a halberd simultaneously.
The levels of skill were lacking, the style was unrefined, humans repeat mistakes, and damn it.
The leader of the Black Line Society charged again without giving me a chance to switch weapons.
Even with my experience, I had never fought with the combination of a halberd and a judge's pen, but now it was urgent.
The opponent was a seasoned martial artist in his sixties.
While ordinary people in their sixties suffer from joint pain, chronic illnesses, backaches, presbyopia, and decreased vitality, a martial artist who has spent their life in the martial world has accumulated internal energy despite such minor pains.
Every time the halberd and daggers clashed, sparks flew.
The judge's pen, thrust out like a kitchen knife, was also blocked by the daggers each time.
In short, the leader of the Black Line Society fought well.
It felt like a man who had trained in martial arts for about forty years.
He skillfully wielded dual daggers and moved naturally.
His attacks and defenses were balanced, and he did not waste moves, wielding his sword with bravery while maintaining his dignity.
Whether he was mad or not, he was the king of the Black Line Society during the fight.
Rather, as I dealt with him using various techniques that I had not shown to the leaders, the leader of the Black Line Society displayed a more flustered expression.
While fiercely battling him, I reduced my scattered thoughts.
As I focused all my nerves on the fight, the unnecessary sounds around me faded away. "......!" I could clearly hear the sound of the leader's footsteps, the rustling of his clothes, the sounds of our weapons clashing, and our breaths.
The moment I heard his breath, the smoke of the Mangucho that Dokgosaeng exhaled came to mind, and I soon realized that this man also suffered from a lung disease.
During the fight, I could hear his phlegm bubbling.
I intentionally loosened my stance for three exchanges and retreated.
In that moment, the leader of the Black Line Society habitually spat out a mouthful of phlegm.
"Ptooey!" Before the yellowish phlegm hit the ground, I threw the judge's pen.
When the sound of the daggers and judge's pen clashed was heard, I leaped into the air to close the distance and infused my internal energy into the halberd, striking down fiercely.
The leader of the Black Line Society realized my attack was unusual and crossed his daggers to block the descending halberd.
Boom! Amidst the deafening noise...
I pulled the fallen judge's pen toward me again using the Absorption Technique, and when it got close, I twisted my wrist and struck with tension.
The direction changed, and the force extended even more.
Thwack! "Gah!" Where had it struck? Only after I swung the halberd again did I confirm that the judge's pen I had struck with tension had embedded itself in the leader's chest.
I chased after the retreating leader of the Black Line Society, continuously striking down with the halberd.
I kept him busy with his hands and feet to prevent him from pulling out the judge's pen lodged in his chest.
After blocking three times, the leader of the Black Line Society finally lost both daggers and fell on his backside.
It seemed he had forced his internal energy up while injured, causing his vital energy to become chaotic.
Soon, blood spurted from the leader's mouth.
I approached, holding the halberd, and looked down at the leader of the Black Line Society.
"Leader, can't you get up?" The leader nodded wearily and commanded, "...... Stop it."
How long had he been king that he still spoke to me in a commanding tone even in this situation? "I am not your slave. Why is your tone like that?" I was the one who pointed out the tone to a dying man.
The leader of the Black Line Society revealed his blood-stained teeth and smiled.
"If you let my subordinates treat me, I will appoint you as the next leader. You will not suffer any loss. You will have everything of the Black Line Society."
His voice was soft, and I could not hear him well, but it roughly meant this.
I did not accept the leader of the Black Line Society's proposal.
"I refuse."
"Refuse? ... They are all foolish men. If they do not follow orders, they are foolish men who cannot even take care of themselves. You take care of them."
Was this the perspective of someone who had lived by commanding slaves? I felt that the leader of the Black Line Society might die like this, so I asked for his last words.
"Leader, say something before you die."
The leader of the Black Line Society barely lifted his head and left these words for the people of the Black Line Society.
"You foolish men, you have worked hard."
As he let out a strange laugh like a metallic sound, I smashed the leader's head with the halberd I had raised.
Thwack! "Still causing a ruckus until the end."
I struck down again in place of the slaves sold for money.
Thinking of the foolish men who squandered their family's money, borrowed money, and even the money of their neighbors, I struck down again.
Still, you must have eaten well, slept comfortably, and lived warmly, I thought as I struck down again.
The blood and chunks of flesh that splattered as I crushed him stuck to my face.
Since he was already dead, I thought that striking down once more would not deepen my sin, so I poured my emotions into another strike.
This time, the halberd hit the ground with an even louder sound.
Boom! I looked around the leader of the Black Line Society with a blood-soaked face. "……"