Chapter 5 …

From the direction where the sound came, there was the residence of the Sect Master of the Jeokryu Sect.

“They’re targeting the Sect Master!”
“Protect the Sect Master!”
“If you’ve been paid, then hurry up and stop the ronin hired by the Black Path Gang!”

Kkwajik— Sseogeok—!

Thanks to the desperate shouts, the situation was quickly understood.
The Black Path Gang had struck at the head first to minimize damage.
As Imgang ran, he scanned the chaotic battlefield where ronin were entangled with one another.
It wasn’t hard to distinguish allies among them. A cheap red cloth given by the Jeokryu Sect was tied to their chests.
What if someone didn’t have the cloth?
That was their problem.
Even if allies stabbed them by mistake, it would be considered not guilty.

‘Numbers… roughly equal.’

Imgang pulled out throwing daggers and threw them.

[Enhanced ranged attack. Ranged homing projectile skill activated.]

The enhanced ranged attack and ranged homing projectile skills were passive abilities applied to “throwing” or “shooting” type projectile concepts.
They did not activate just by randomly throwing things. Only when damage was intended and the will to hit a target was present would they activate.

The effect of the skill was simple.
The power of the thrown object was strengthened, and if a target was designated, it would home in.

Swaeaek!

The throwing dagger flew with a ferocious force, as if imbued with internal energy.

“I’ve never liked you from the begi— kugh!”

It pierced his solar plexus—one down!
I never liked you either.
Anyway.
It had been a while since he used this skill, but it felt as familiar as in his past life.
He immediately pulled out two more throwing daggers.

There are only two things you need to know in a ronin fight.
First: stay calm.
Ronin battles are usually chaotic melees, so if you lose your composure, you’ll either be stabbed by a stray blade or stab an ally by mistake.
Simply put: you might think someone is an ally and they’re an enemy, or think they’re an enemy and stab an ally.

Second: momentum.
Most ronin don’t have internal energy.
Except for a few skilled ones with strong swordsmanship, they’re all basically trash.
In trash fights, what matters is not being underestimated.
You need to give off the feeling of “this guy is dangerous.”

‘But that alone is slightly lacking.’

More than anything, don’t be underestimated—establish yourself clearly as a strong one.
So Imgang added a bit of bluff.

“Take this— Ten Thousand Blossoms Rainstorm!”

“Ma, Mancheonhwau?!”

“What kind of madman is—!”

The ronin flinched in shock.
Of course.
There was no way it was the true secret technique of the Sichuan Tang Clan, the “Mancheonhwau.”
It was what people called the ronin-style Mancheonhwau.
In simple terms, it was just indiscriminately scattering throwing weapons and poison. There was no way ronin would know refined hidden weapon techniques or poison arts.

“Everyone, get down!”
“Don’t get down, scatter, idiot!”

No ronin could remain calm when someone acted like a lunatic.
In the moment the chaotic mass of ronin hesitated without knowing what to do,
Imgang spotted his target.

‘…Now!’

And he threw the daggers!

“Keugh!”
“Ugh!”

A throwing dagger struck the target’s forehead, and he collapsed dead instantly.
At that moment,
a brief silence spread across the sweaty battlefield. With just two daggers (+trash talk), he had shaken the entire field.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

Imgang smirked as he pulled out two more throwing daggers.
Ah.
This was the difference in level between them and him.
But why are they just standing there?
Without missing the opportunity, he threw again.

“When this is over, I was going to propose to her…”

You’re not dead.

“Is this my grave…”

Did I hit his heart instead of his leg?

After Imgang took down ten more ronin with his daggers and cut down a couple who approached him, the battle completely turned in favor of the Jeokryu Sect.
Thanks to skill enhancement, his accuracy was practically perfect.

At that moment, a master from the Black Path Gang took interest in him.

Within the Black Path Gang, there were several masters with decent reputations in Hangzhou.
One of them was Chaehyeolgeom (Blood-Collecting Sword), a swordsman infamous for his brutality—cutting flesh like slicing meat to leave enemies drenched in blood—and also the Black Path Gang’s field commander.

‘The morale is shifting toward the Jeokryu Sect?’

Chaehyeolgeom sensed something strange. In every battle, his role was to crush enemy morale through sheer brutality.
So he noticed it faster than anyone else.

‘Who is it.’

He searched for the source affecting the Jeokryu Sect’s morale.
It was a ronin.
He looked to be under twenty.
A mere ronin without internal energy was fighting Jeokryu Sect disciples.

‘That doesn’t matter.’

To restore morale, that man’s bones and flesh had to be separated.
There was an unspoken rule that ronin should fight ronin and sects should fight sects.
It was slightly shameful for a commander to personally deal with a young ronin—but this was a matter of the future.

“Brother, isn’t it overkill to use a butcher knife to kill a chicken?”
“That’s right. Let us handle it!”

Just as Chaehyeolgeom was about to move, his left and right arms twitched their bloodied blades.
Well, it would be beneath him to act personally.
Though his right and left arms only had minimal internal energy, they were still second-rate swordsmen.
A young ronin should be…

“Kegh!”
“Ughk!”

“…What?”

Chaehyeolgeom’s eyes widened like lanterns.

Imgang was dancing with his shoulders.
To be precise,
his shoulders were shaking from continuously throwing daggers.
But he was also genuinely excited.

‘Every dagger hits. How can I not be excited?’

He had spent a lot of money on his master to learn Dongshin Art.
Not surprising.
Such master-disciple relationships in the ronin world were always like this.

‘Dongshin Art… it is indeed good.’

He didn’t even know how many times it had saved his life, so that said everything.
But rather than risky close combat, throwing daggers from a distance suited him far better.

At that moment, as he struck two more ronin,

“Ghehehe! I’ll slice you like pork belly!”
“The skin of a young one must be so tender!”

Two men rushed toward him, shouting.
They were quite fast.

Startled, Imgang reflexively drew two daggers and threw them.

“Kegh!”
“Ughk!”

Perfect hit with homing skill!
…Just as he relaxed, he noticed the Black Path Gang uniform.

‘Aren’t hired ronin supposed to fight each other? No, more importantly, aren’t these second-rate warriors?’

It was absurd that second-rate fighters were being taken down so easily by throwing daggers.
Still, it worked, so it was fine.

“What the hell! He took down Black Path Gang members with throwing daggers!”
“We knew he was a promising talent…!”
“This reckless brat!”

Cheers erupted from allied ronin.
On the other hand, enemy ronin’s faces turned pale.
The battle between ronin was practically over.

But—

“You bastard! I’ll kill you!”

Those who struggled at the end always existed.
Chaehyeolgeom, who had lost both arms, charged toward Imgang.
Much faster than the earlier two!

But—

“Die!”

“…??”

Chaehyeolgeom suddenly leapt high into the air, raising his sword.

Imgang was dumbfounded.

‘Is that guy desperate to die?’

Even first-rate warriors who could coat their swords with internal energy wouldn’t attack like that.
Because once airborne, there is no way to dodge attacks.
Unless one has techniques like Jeunung (Double Step Cloud Movement) or the legendary Void Treading, it’s impossible to evade.

Even a third-rate ronin knows that.

So,
Imgang infused internal energy into a dagger and threw it.

And it shot like lightning.

Puk—!

“…!”

The dagger pierced Chaehyeolgeom’s heart, and he died mid-air without even a final scream.
A fitting end to his absurd stupidity.

“Waaahhh!”
“He did it again! That kid did it again!”

Unlike the cheering allies, Imgang was still bewildered.

‘Is this… Saphyung? No, no! This can’t be Saphyung.’

The Black Path Gang was strange despite its reputation. A place like Yeomwangchae that only extorts money couldn’t possibly have real masters.
At best, they were the dumbest among the evil sects he had seen in Hangzhou.

Anyway,
the infamous Chaehyeolgeom had lost once more in death,
and the battle between Jeokryu Sect and Black Path Gang began to wind toward its end.

‘The ronin battle is basically over.’

Both sides were now just pretending to swing swords while staring each other down.
And although Imgang didn’t know their identities,
the deaths of Chaehyeolgeom and his two arms had greatly damaged Black Path Gang morale.
The Jeokryu Sect also suffered heavy losses.
If this continued, both sides would suffer fatal damage.

At this point,
it was obvious: the outcome would be decided by a duel between leaders.

Whoever wins between the Black Path Gang leader and the Jeokryu Sect master would decide everything.

“You vile bastard! A sneak attack?!”

“If you had cooperated, none of this would’ve happened!”

“Cooperate? Like you scum who run Yeomwangchae would cooperate!”

‘Both of them are pretty skilled.’

Despite the childish conversation, a deadly fight was unfolding.
Both used swords, and their techniques were fast—hit and retreat, strike and withdraw.
Cuts appeared all over their bodies—arms, legs, ribs.
Necks and vital points were narrowly blocked or grazed.
Both were soaked in blood.

‘Hard to even see clearly.’

For Imgang, only just a third-rate ronin who had newly gained internal energy, the fight was overwhelming.
But he understood one thing.

‘Hmm… our side seems slightly weaker.’

The Jeokryu Sect master’s expression looked bad.
Like a dog desperately holding in a stomach ache.
Then suddenly, an unexpected change occurred.

“Kugh!”

The Jeokryu Sect master’s eyes changed sharply. His sword moved like a folding fan, leaving afterimages as it slashed deeply into the Black Path Gang leader’s thigh.
It had been a feint—deliberately pretending to be pushed back to lure overconfidence.

“Waaahhh!”
“Damn it!”

The tide shifted.

The Black Path Gang leader, wounded in the thigh, forced the Jeokryu Sect master back, but the situation was already dire.
His leg was clearly impaired.

“Kugh.”
“Haa… if you surrender, I’ll spare your life.”

The Jeokryu Sect master slowly approached, steadying his breathing.
The Black Path Gang leader stepped back.
It looked like the battle was decided.

The Jeokryu Sect erupted in cheers, fists clenched in victory.

And in that moment—

Twitch.

No one noticed the Black Path Gang leader’s fingers move strangely.

Someone suddenly rushed out from the Black Path Gang ranks.
Everyone was startled.

“…W-what?!”

The Jeokryu Sect master, exhausted from the fight, noticed too late.
But he couldn’t react in time.
A blade aimed for his heart descended.

Jeokryu Sect disciples rushed forward too late.

Swaeaek!

“Kahaha! It’s over—?”

Clang!

“…Kugh!”

A throwing dagger sliced through the air—and saved the Jeokryu Sect master.