As Mu-hui and his companions made their way south toward Okhwa Mountain, Moon-young had quietly joined them. In Gangseo, the assassins of Cheonsal Taekmun had already spread out discreetly, making it easy to gather information quickly when combined with the intelligence from Gaebang.

“Eun-gong, it seems your prediction was correct,” Moon-young said.

“The Wind King died while tracking Hoi, and if the Hangryong Tagubong suddenly appears, it’s almost certainly their doing,” Mu-hui replied.

“The way the Hangryong Tagubong changed hands among various people is suspicious too. If you trace back the timing and locations, it seems like Hoi was secretly manipulating things to expand the scale of the situation.”

Mu-hui twisted his lips into a wry smile. “It’s a perfect opportunity to weaken both the righteous and the demonic factions at once.”

“It seems the Nang King has also noticed some interference, yet they continue to escalate matters,” Moon-young observed.

“From the perspective of Sadocheon, both the righteous and the demonic are just different kinds of enemies. They probably see this as a chance to gain something,” Mu-hui mused.

Since joining forces with Sojeongdae and the Plum Blossom Swordmaster, they hadn’t encountered any enemies on their journey, allowing them to reach their destination quickly. Upon arriving near Okhwa Mountain, Mu-hui understood why the area, once teeming with vagabonds and demonic warriors, was now deserted.

Three tattered flags fluttered atop long bamboo poles, devoid of any writing. Yet, the sight of those colorful rags immediately brought something to mind for the martial artists.

Before them stood a multitude of Gaebang beggars, each holding a Tagubong and staring at Mu-hui.

“Mu-hui Sohyeop!” called a middle-aged beggar running toward him. Mu-hui recognized him instantly.

“You’ve come all the way from Shaanxi,” Mu-hui noted.

“The situation called for it,” So Jin-gae replied with a bitter smile. He was the beggar who had provided information about the Bloodshed Gang when Mu-hui first ventured into the martial world with his disciples. So Jin-gae looked Mu-hui up and down with a face full of emotion.

“When we first met, you were just a promising young warrior, and now you’re known as the Sword Saint of Mount Hua. It’s truly remarkable and something to be grateful for.”

His voice trembled with his last words, and his eyes reddened slightly as he bowed to Mu-hui and the others. Mu-hui returned the gesture, folding his hands in response.

Meanwhile, the elders of Gaebang approached, having gathered the scattered beggars from all over Gangseo while Mu-hui’s group dealt with the vagabonds threatening their branch.

“Sword Saint of Mount Hua, you’ve arrived,” greeted the beggars from the Namcheon branch, nodding toward Okhwa Mountain.

“The Nang King won’t show himself, no matter how many of his vagabonds and demonic warriors are cut down. He wants the Sword Saint to swing his sword and exhaust himself,” one elder explained.

Mu-hui nodded, having heard of the Nang King’s nature. The Nang King would consider it a gain if he could eliminate Mu-hui, even if it meant the death of all the vagabonds and demonic warriors gathered at Okhwa Mountain.

In fact, it was a sound strategy. Sacrificing hundreds of warriors to take down a supreme master was a profitable trade.

“The beggars dispatched to Gangseo to retrieve the Hangryong Tagubong and the body of our leader have gathered here. In terms of numbers, we are not inferior to the Nangya Alliance. You should head straight to the summit of Okhwa Mountain,” the elder instructed, raising his only remaining left arm in a salute.

“Though we lack the strength to retrieve our leader’s body ourselves, Gaebang will clear the path for you. Sword Saint of Mount Hua, we entrust the rest to you.”

With that, the beggars behind him bowed their heads toward Mu-hui, their movements like a wave rolling across the ground.

The sight of the beggars bowing in unison was both awe-inspiring and suffocating for the young warriors. The desperation of the Gaebang beggars was palpable, and the weight of their expectations pressed heavily on Mu-hui.

Sojeongdae and the second disciples watched Mu-hui, who carried the Plum Blossom Sword on his shoulder.

“Senior Brother.”

“Leader.”

But contrary to their concerns, Mu-hui responded decisively, “There’s no time to waste. Let’s finish this quickly.”

The Gaebang beggars began to form a dense wall in front of Mu-hui’s group, leading the way toward Okhwa Mountain. After about half an hour of travel, they could see the throng of people filling the base of the mountain.

As expected, the Nangya Alliance and the demonic warriors had gathered in full force, ready to retrieve the Hangryong Tagubong, just as the intelligence from Gaebang and Cheonsal Taekmun had predicted.

“Let’s go!”

“There are plenty of scoundrels up ahead to beat down!”

The Gaebang beggars shouted as they quickened their pace, and in response, the vagabonds and demonic warriors surged forward.

Just before the large-scale battle erupted, Mu-hui called out to Seong-hoe, who was using his lightness skill beside him.

“Hey, Sojeongdae Leader.”

“What is it?”

“This kind of group battle is different from a duel or a clash of martial prowess. If you lose focus for a moment, the entire Sojeongdae could be swept away by the tide of battle.”

“You’re underestimating us. If we were just naive young warriors, we wouldn’t have been formed into a martial force,” Seong-hoe replied, meeting Mu-hui’s gaze with a steady look.

Mu-hui nodded with a smile, relieved that Seong-hoe remained calm before their first large-scale battle. With Je-gal Myeong and the other Six Dragons and Woo Tae-gang present, there shouldn’t be any major issues.

Seong-hoe hesitated for a moment, then spoke in a slightly softer voice, “Still, I appreciate the advice. Watch closely. We’ll make sure no one lays a hand on the Sword Sect until you reach the Nang King.”

Seong-hoe gathered his energy, preparing to unleash his inner power.

“Kill them!”

“Stinking beggars!”

“Then take a whiff of plum blossom scent!”

As Mu-hwa prepared to draw his sword, So Jin-gae shook his head.

“Your temperament hasn’t changed, Mu-hwa Sohyeop. Save your strength, both you and the Sword Saint. There are some seasoned old vagabonds on the mountain.”

So Jin-gae calmed Mu-hwa and then launched himself toward the vagabonds.

“Clear the path for the Sword Saint!”

“Hold on! If we fend them off, we can learn the Wind King’s martial arts!”

At the base of Okhwa Mountain, the two sides finally clashed.

The numbers of the Nangya Alliance and the demonic warriors were overwhelming, but Gaebang, known for its vast numbers, was not easily outmatched. Even though only a portion of their forces had come due to the chaotic state of the martial world, they were not significantly outnumbered. Moreover, the Gaebang beggars had a more desperate look in their eyes than the greed-filled eyes of the vagabonds and demonic warriors.

The desperation and powerlessness of being unable to retrieve their leader’s body, combined with their anger toward the Nangya Alliance and the Nang King, fueled their fierce momentum, like a wildfire set to consume Okhwa Mountain.

Thwack!

Beggars trained in the Flying Willow Palm and Roaring Dragon Strike charged in barehanded, breaking through the ranks of vagabonds, while those wielding Tagubongs leaped into the fray.

The sound of skulls cracking echoed loudly as the Tagubong techniques were unleashed from all directions.

“Beat these scoundrels to a pulp!”

“Deploy the Tagubong Formation!”

“Show them what happens when you mess with Gaebang!”

Masters of Gaebang, ranging from the Seven Knots to the Five Knots, led the charge, opening the path. Among them was an elder who had lost an arm to the Nang King.

Gaebang advanced relentlessly, breaking through the enemy lines, and thanks to their efforts, the Plum Blossom Swordmaster hadn’t even drawn his weapon yet.

“The momentum of Gaebang is truly impressive.”

“The collective Tagubong techniques are indeed formidable,” Hyun-baek and Hyun-gak remarked in admiration as they watched Gaebang’s fierce battle. Mu-hui quietly released his energy.

Wooong!

The energy of the Purple Mist Divine Art spread across the battlefield like concentric circles, sweeping over the vagabonds and demonic warriors.

The subtle energy of the Purple Mist Divine Art infiltrated the battlefield, disrupting the internal energy of the vagabonds and demonic warriors, much like the overpowering scent of plum blossoms suppressing other floral scents.

“Ugh!”

“Cough!”

Some vagabonds gasped for breath, while demonic warriors, struggling with the rough and crude internal energy of their demonic arts, coughed up blood as their energy backfired.

Realizing that Mu-hui was assisting from behind, the Gaebang beggars at the forefront pushed even harder.

“Hmph!”

“Press on!”

Feeling the reassuring presence of Mu-hui behind them, the Gaebang beggars swung their Tagubongs with renewed vigor.

Boom!

Gaebang elders dispatched three Nangya Alliance officers blocking the path, securing a route up the mountain ridge.

“Sword Saint of Mount Hua!”

“We’ll hold the line to prevent others from interfering. We leave the rest to you.”

“Understood. Then,” Mu-hui replied.

Sojeongdae and the Gaebang beggars remained at the base of the mountain, forming a long defensive line with their Tagubongs. Leaving them behind, the Plum Blossom Swordmaster sprinted up the mountain path.

There were still enemies on Okhwa Mountain.

The path was riddled with traps, as if the bandits had expected an attack from below. Various crude devices lay in wait, ready to ensnare the unwary.

Thwack!

Arrows and throwing knives rained down from between the trees. Mujin deftly deflected them with a flick of his sleeve, while Mucheol sent them flying back with a gust of his palm.

Ambushes were a given, designed to exploit any momentary lapse in vigilance.

Suddenly, the ground gave way, revealing a pit filled with spikes, or a cascade of rocks would tumble down from the hills above.

But the Plum Blossom Swordsmen, seasoned by countless missions and rigorous training, were not so easily caught. They might find the terrain challenging, but mere traps were no threat to them.

Swish!

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The bandits who appeared sporadically were dispatched before they could even draw their weapons, their limbs severed by the swift blades of Muhwa and Mucheol.

As they reached the mid-slope of Mount Okhwa, the Plum Blossom Swordsmen finally halted, unfurling their secret signal.

About thirty bandits stood guard on the path to the summit. Even at a glance, it was clear they were elite fighters, handpicked from the ranks of the Nanyang Alliance. An elderly bandit stepped forward, addressing the swordsmen.

“The Bandit King has summoned only the Sword Saint. The rest of you can entertain us.”

The Plum Blossom Swordsmen ignored the taunt, their auras flaring defiantly.

“Plum Blossom Leader, what do you propose?” Hyunbaek asked.

Muhwi nodded. “I’ll leave it to you.”

As Hyunbaek stepped back, the bandits parted to let Muhwi pass alone.

Once Muhwi disappeared beyond the mountain path, the scattered bandits rose as one.

“It’s an honor to face the renowned Plum Blossom Swordsmen. If this were a commission from the Nanyang Alliance, it would be a top-tier request.”

Hyunbaek, scrutinizing the bandits, spoke up. “Are you the Saljinrang?”

Saljinrang, the Thirty Wolves, were the elite of the Nanyang Alliance, survivors of countless battles alongside the Bandit King.

The leader of the Saljinrang, the Great Wolf, nodded, prompting Hyunbaek to quietly draw his Plum Blossom Sword.

“Plum Blossom Swordsmen, today we erase the name of Saljinrang from the martial world.”

“Yes!”

The swordsmen responded in unison, drawing their swords as the bandits’ eyes gleamed with murderous intent.

* * *

At the summit, the Bandit King turned his head as Muhwi approached.

“So you’ve come, young one. Have a drink before we begin.”

The Bandit King tossed a bottle of liquor to Muhwi, who casually swatted it aside with the back of his hand. The Bandit King smacked his lips in disappointment.

“I was offering you a taste before you die, but it seems you lack the spirit.”

“Spirit? It’s obvious there’s poison in it. You’re known for your dirty tricks, old man.”

“Heh. Most masters are too proud to refuse such an offer. You’re right, though. I did lace it with a bit of Hakjeonghong. A pity.”

The Bandit King picked up his staff, the Hangryongtagubong, and rose to his feet, striding toward a tree covered with a cloth.

“You’ve come for the Hangryongtagubong and the old beggar’s corpse, haven’t you?”

With a powerful swing, the Bandit King sent a gust of wind that blew the cloth away, revealing the tree.

Muhwi’s eyes darkened as he saw the body of the Wind King hanging upside down from the thick trunk, his tattered clothes revealing numerous wounds.

Muhwi’s gaze fell to the blade embedded in the ground beneath the tree. All the wounds, save for the empty chest, seemed to have been inflicted by that very blade.

“Old man, was this your doing?”

The Bandit King chuckled, touching his left eye. “The Wind King took my eye, and he died without paying the price. This is the least I could do.”

Muhwi nodded. “There are men and warriors even among the outlaws, but there are far more who are just dogs pretending to be human. You’re the latter, old man.”

The Bandit King licked his lips, then approached the tree, grasping the blade embedded in the ground.

“I wanted to soak this blade in the Wind King’s blood, but I couldn’t. Perhaps I’ll settle for yours, Sword Saint.”

As the Bandit King licked the blood-stained blade, Muhwi smirked.

“Old man, I’ve made up my mind.”

“And what might that be?”

The Simmyung Sword at Muhwi’s waist gleamed with a dark light.

“I’ll hang you from that tree with your own blade.”

The Bandit King’s wrinkles deepened as he realized Muhwi’s intent. Muhwi’s fierce aura began to rise, stirring the air around him like a storm.