“What? An attack?”

“Considering they showed up at a time like this, it looks like they’ve been watching us the whole time. They seem like the type who go on about the Orthodox Path in the Central Plains, but I don’t know exactly who they are.”

Basarek frowned. Irritation flickered in his blue eyes.

“Did they look strong?”

“They did... look pretty strong. And there are a decent number of them, too.”

Hang Chun was the type who always worshiped Basarek as the best. Even if it was empty flattery.

So for someone like that to say the other side looked strong meant they weren’t ordinary.

“And the ones we sent to the neighboring village?”

“Just in case, I sent a few more kids, too. They’ll join up soon.”

“Good.”

What was good was good, and what pissed him off still pissed him off.

BOOM!

Basarek’s massive fist smashed a stone wall inside the warehouse.

“Which fucking dogs are they, seriously.”

This invasion of the Sea Dragon Merchant Group wasn’t something he did just to kill time.

He’d taken the job because one of the Central Plains’ strongest—someone even more evil than Basarek—had asked him to.

Of course, even if someone was “one of the strongest in the Central Plains,” they couldn’t just sweet-talk the Gray Wolf Band into moving. Basarek was sharp—and proud.

But this time, he didn’t have a choice. Because that Lord, someone even the leader of the beyond-the-frontier’s strongest horse bandit crew couldn’t dare ignore, had ordered him to train alongside a Central Plains powerhouse.

“This is why you don’t take the Central Plains’ hand. Those brain-dead bastards! If some small fry were tailing us, they should’ve told me ahead of time!”

Hang Chun spoke carefully.

“What if it’s something even they don’t know about?”

“Obviously. You think they’d purposely hide it to stab us in the back?”

He couldn’t rule out betrayal. But Basarek didn’t believe that man would betray him.

Not because he trusted the man’s character—because he trusted the situation. Right now, even a force the size of an ant was valuable to him.

“The Alliance of the Martial World.”

Basarek snorted.

“If it’s an Orthodox force even that man can’t easily get a read on, then there’s a good chance it’s that Alliance of the Martial World they founded not long ago.”

Lightning-fast thinking that didn’t match his huge body.

That was why the Gray Wolf Band had been able to run wild beyond the frontier for ten years.

Hang Chun’s face hardened.

“If it’s the Alliance of the Martial World, shouldn’t we run?”

“We should.”

Basarek’s face went flat in an instant.

“We should run, sure—but there’s no proper way out, is there? A fight’s unavoidable.”

“R-Right.”

“Tch.”

Basarek looked toward the corner of the warehouse.

A dozen young women huddled there, trembling. Every one of them was beautiful.

“What a shame. To have to tear them apart before I even get a taste.”

Tear them apart? The meaning was hard to pin down, but the cruelty in his tone was unmistakable.

Basarek smiled, full of implication.

“Prepare the skewers.”

“Commander. The enemy’s leader is coming out.”

“I know.”

Mo Yong-woo’s cold gaze crossed the broken outer wall and fixed on the inner compound.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

The horse bandits came forward, stomping hard as they advanced.

Well-trained.

Before martial arts even mattered, you could feel their bodies were honed. Not a physique built by disciplined training—bodies tempered naturally through countless real fights.

Individually, they’re below the Demon-Sweeping & Evil-Smiting... but in group combat, they’ll definitely—

That was when—

“...!!”

Mo Yong-woo’s expression twisted slightly.

“W-What is that?”

“Those crazy bastards!”

Hundreds of horse bandits sauntered into view. But behind them, around a giant foreign-looking man, bandits stood holding iron flagpoles longer than ten feet each.

And at the ends of those iron poles, bodies were hanging in place of flags—limbs severed, as if they’d been stabbed through and skewered.

It was a sight human decency could barely stomach.

Murderous intent gathered in Jin Pae’s eyes.

“Commander. Wipe them out.”

Even Jin Pae—the Demon-Sweeping Corps’ oldest and most cautious Company Leader—couldn’t hold back his rising fury.

Mo Yong-woo didn’t speak. If he opened his mouth, he felt like curses would spill out.

Then the Gray Wolf Band Lord, Basarek, stepped into the outer compound and shouted.

“HEEEEY!”

For an instant, the air itself seemed to ripple. His voice carried a tremendous resonance.

SNORT... SNORT...

The Demon-Sweeping Corps’ warhorses pawed at the ground and tossed their heads, unsettled by the strange inner force laced into Basarek’s voice.

Then Mo Yong-woo lifted his greatsword.

WOOOOOONG!

Heaven-and-Earth Eight Extremes True Qi rose in fine threads from the blade, spreading out into a thin sheet that formed an invisible barrier.

A curtain of True Qi that covered every direction—an uncanny technique no one could imitate without profound enlightenment and inner power.

Snort!

The warhorses calmed almost immediately. Wrapped in that familiar energy, they regained their composure.

Oh.

Something bright flickered in Basarek’s eyes.

A noble-clan young master, huh?

He looked around thirty. Yet he displayed that level of delicate inner-power control.

It wasn’t something Basarek could do—not because he was weaker than Mo Yong-woo, but because the martial arts he’d lived and refined his whole life simply had a different nature.

A genius.

Basarek smiled.

He’d met countless so-called geniuses. And every one of them had ended up toyed with in his hands, then died miserably.

A well-raised genius from a great family.

A perfect plaything.

WHOOSH!

Basarek lunged out in a single burst and planted himself at the front of his ranks.

Hm.

From the outer-compound entrance, Basarek stared at Mo Yong-woo and rubbed his chin.

Not a half-baked genius.

You could tell from his eyes. The gaze looking down at Basarek held deep fury and cool caution at the same time.

Mo Yong-woo spoke.

“Basarek.”

Well, would you look at that?

Interest lit on Basarek’s face.

Not a hint of tremor in his voice. He wasn’t “trying” not to shake—he truly wasn’t shaking.

Anger in his chest, but his mind was still.

That unexpected composure made Basarek feel a strange pressure.

This one won’t be easy to toy with.

Basarek looked over the Demon-Sweeping Corps.

“Geez. Where’d you scrape up this bunch of worthless grunts?”

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Murderous intent surged from the Demon-Sweeping Corps soldiers all at once.

They were already struggling to suppress their rage at the bandits’ atrocity. Then they got insulted on top of it, and their tempers snapped.

But—

“Choose.”

When Mo Yong-woo spoke, the killing intent rolling off the Demon-Sweeping Corps swayed like a living wave.

“Everyone disarms and surrenders, or we fight head-on.”

Basarek snickered.

“You trust these troops that much?”

“I’ll give you one quarter-hour.”

BZZZT!

Heaven-and-Earth Eight Extremes True Qi, heated to a fever pitch, dyed Mo Yong-woo’s eyes blue.

Unlike Basarek’s inborn blue eyes, that made it even more uncanny—and more terrifying. Basarek felt his fist twitch for an instant.

“If you surrender, we’ll seal your Qi reservoirs, sever the tendon meridians in your limbs, and imprison you in the Brain Prison for ten years. But if you resist, I’ll kill every last one of you.”

“.......”

“Survival’s your top priority, isn’t it? Even if you have to crawl.”

Basarek’s smile deepened.

It was a provocation—sharp enough to sting.

And it was scarier because it wasn’t calculated. It was sincere.

“What a lovely little offer. How am I supposed to live without pissing myself?”

Basarek shivered exaggeratedly, openly mocking him.

“Then should we make an offer, too?”

Basarek crooked his finger.

“KYAAAAH!”

The horse bandits split left and right, and naked women were dragged out by their hair.

Murderous intent flared across Mo Yong-woo’s face.

Basarek smiled wetly.

“If you don’t get the hell out a hundred li right now, I’ll tear them apart one by one.”

“.......”

“Like this.”

Before the words even finished, a huge horse bandit grabbed one woman by the neck.

CRUNCH!

A horrific sound—and her head tore free.

“AAAAAAAH!”

“KYAAAAH!”

Blood sprayed everywhere.

It didn’t stop there. Two horse bandits hacked the headless body apart with their blades.

Mo Yong-woo’s eyes slowly reddened. No matter how hard he tried to hold it in, this crossed the line.

Basarek burst into cheerful laughter.

“I’m showing you a sample. If you just listen to what I say, I’ll keep all those women alive, so don’t worry too much.”

“.......”

“How about it? Not a bad offer, right?”

“If you touch one more innocent person.”

Fwoooosh.

Basarek’s eyes sank deeper.

The dam holding back Mo Yong-woo’s killing intent burst.

As that pressure poured in, Basarek felt his own inner power writhe out of control.

“Then I’ll start by killing you for sure.”

Threat for threat.

Even Mo Yong-woo, who’d lived a hard life, had never been threatened this brutally.

But he knew one thing.

You never believe an evil man’s offers or threats.

The moment you show weakness, it’s over. Mo Yong-woo’s response wasn’t the best possible answer—but it wasn’t the worst, either.

He means it.

Basarek’s eyes flashed.

He really plans to take me first.

This was getting interesting.

Did I read him wrong?

No. The Mo Yong-woo Basarek had seen was the type to prioritize hostages {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} over wiping out the enemy.

So why threaten back?

Not because he refused to lose.

No way.

This one wasn’t like the half-baked fools Basarek had chewed up before.

He’s got something he’s relying on.

Basarek’s experience and quick instincts pierced the situation in an instant.

He shouted.

“Keep your eyes open! Looks like these bastards have other allies!”

Shh-shh-shh—

The Gray Wolf Band watched all around.

Their formation was sloppy, like they hadn’t received formal group training. Yet it had no real gaps. The Gray Wolf Band’s tactics—stacked through endless experience—were like savage wolves.

Basarek laughed again, booming.

“Hey, kid. If you want to negotiate, you can’t let the other side see what cards you’re holding.”

Basarek threw his head back and laughed at the sky.

Mo Yong-woo spoke.

“Half a quarter-hour left.”

“...Huh?”

“In half a quarter-hour, your fate will be decided. Think carefully.”

“Oho.”

Basarek’s blue eyes flashed.

“You’re a really entertaining kid, you know that?”

“.......”

“I clearly said I’d spare the hostages if you listen, but if you keep coming at me like this, it gets boring.”

Basarek crooked his finger again.

And then Mo Yong-woo’s voice exploded out—like a verdict.

“If you want to watch your leader die!”

The booming shout shook the entire area.

“Touch those women. I’ll split this pig in half, then drown every one of you in the sea.”

Flinch!

A heavy voice packed with ominous killing intent.

WOOOOONG.

A blue aura coiled around the Demon-Sweeping Greatsword. He looked ready to unleash a single decisive slash.

The horse bandits standing around the women exchanged uneasy looks. They’d been in situations like this countless times, but this opponent’s presence was hard to dismiss.

A sneer rose on Basarek’s face.

“I’ll admit you’ve got guts. Kill me? You really think you can?”

“If you’re curious, touch them.”

“I’ve never been good at holding back curiosity.”

“Then do it.”

Basarek watched Mo Yong-woo with a smile, then shouted.

“Grab one and tear her apart!”

“Demon-Sweeping Corps—prepare to charge!”

RUMMMMBBBLE.

A dangerous Qi wave surged upward.

The horse bandits looked at each other in panic. They couldn’t tell if they were really supposed to kill a hostage.

Basarek roared.

“You idiots! Since when did you start thinking? Tear her apart right now!”

“Even if we let them slip away, we kill the leader no matter what!”

“Why aren’t you killing her, you fucking dogs?!”

“Target the leader first, no matter what!”

It was a vicious clash of will.

No one showed weakness.

FWOOM!

Basarek finally unleashed his killing intent—and he aimed it at his own men.

“If you don’t kill her, I’ll kill you first.”

Only then did one horse bandit grab the woman by her hair.

Mo Yong-woo’s eyes burned.

“Everyone, char—!”

That was when it happened.

A single chilling flash speared straight through the horse bandit’s arm as he clutched the woman’s hair.

THUD!