Martial Arts Ain't Anything Special-Chapter 96: War (2)

War.

Hundreds, perhaps thousands. So many people mixed together, killing each other.

Seojun thought to himself as he ran.

A single Primordial Sun-Moon Art can kill hundreds, but is that truly possible?

Many people can easily step on and kill a single ant.

But how many can bring themselves to stomp down on hundreds or thousands of ants gathered together?

Let alone if those were people instead of ants?

“This is so fucked up.”

So what should be done? Try to examine the circumstances of each soldier and decide who should live and who should die?

He let out a hollow laugh.

If the surviving martial artists attacked again, if they lost the war by that small margin, and if he were to witness the Namgung Clan burning before his eyes...

That would be stupid, huh.

He had no desire to become a saint. He would act with kindness only when circumstances allowed, and even then, he’d make a show of it.

He mustn’t confuse things.

Between enemy soldiers he didn’t know and those he had come to know.

The Namgung Clan. Father-in-law. Commander-in-chief. Uncle Baeho. Auntie. Big sis. Little Chunbong. And many others he had met so far.

There were already too many of them to count on both hands, and there was no need to weigh them against strangers.

Who is more important? What a stupid question.

Seojun’s figure streaked across the sky.

*Snow was falling.

Pure white snow covered the corpses and those who survived had snow piling on their shoulders.

It was cold enough to freeze an ordinary person to death within hours.

The fortunate thing was that all the martial artists here were at least Peak Realm masters. They wouldn’t need to worry about freezing to death unless severely injured.

“Damn it...”

Namgung Changhwi glared at the tent before him housing those very severely injured.

Could they survive the night? Probably not.

They had requested reinforcements from the Murim Alliance, but who knew when they would arrive? The Black Serpent could potentially attack at any moment, they couldn’t idly wait for support.

The biting cold would freeze the patients to death, and by tomorrow, only stiff, cold corpses would remain in that tent.

“Tsk.”

Namgung Changhwi roughly brushed off the snow and walked to where the leadership had gathered.

As he pushed aside the tent flap and entered, warmth tickled his skin. He walked forward briskly, irritably scratching his nape.

“It doesn’t seem we will be able to continue like this.”

All eyes turned to him at those words.

A distant branch of the Namgung Clan, but still a Namgung. He was also one of the few Transcendent Realm experts present.

“If we stay here, we’ll all die. Those who must remain should stay, the rest must leave.”

“Amitabha... Those who remain will all perish.”

Grandmaster Ji-baek of Shaolin put his palms together. His eyes scanned the people, the clarity they had when they first met was gone, overtaken by exhaustion.

“We will stay.”

Namgung Changhwi exhaled, almost like a sigh.

“Let all the martial artists from minor and medium sects withdraw. Our loss might not be a major blow to our clan, but for them, their entire sects could collapse.”

“We should think the opposite way.”

The Drunken Dog Beggar of the Beggar’s Union frowned.

“Thinking about the future, it makes more sense for members of major sects to survive. To be frank, the minor and medium sects aren’t much help.”

“We must consider both the present and the aftermath.”

“Man! If the Murim Alliance falls, do you think the minor and medium sects will remain intact!?”

“I understand.”

Namgung Changhwi nodded.

“The Beggar’s Union can withdraw. Namgung will handle this.”

“No... that’s not what I meant.”

Drunken Dog Beggar cleared his throat and looked away. Namgung Changhwi turned to Grandmaster Ji Baek who remained silent with his eyes closed.

“Amitabha...”

Namgung Changhwi clicked his tongue at that same old prayer and turned around. His chest felt tight.

The cold wind lashed at his cheeks as he exited the tent. He adjusted his clothes and looked around. A group of martial artists gathered around the campfire caught his eye.

“So I told them these exact words, ‘Hey you! Stop this right now!’”

One martial artist talked non-stop. There was no response. The lips of the others remained glued shut.

Still, the martial artist’s mouth didn’t stop.

There was no way to know whether it was to boost his comrades’ morale or just the ramblings of someone whose mind had long since broken.

Namgung Changhwi clicked his tongue and walked faster.

The Namgung Clan’s martial artists were gathered in one place and beside them were Shaolin monks and beggars from the Beggar’s Union.

As he approached, one martial artist looked up.

“Welcome.”

He was also a Namgung martial artist. Namgung Changhwi nodded and looked at them before speaking.

“I’m truly sorry. It seems we must stay.”

At those words, the Namgung martial artists nodded heavily. One beggar scratched his head and clicked his tongue.

“Well, battles aren’t won by numbers alone. We might still win even if some people from the minor sects leave. Why the long faces?”

“The Beggar’s Union and Shaolin are to withdraw.”

“What did you say?”

The beggar’s eyebrows shot up.

“Are you saying to leave you behind and run? Bullshit. Since when did the Beggar’s Union become a bunch of cowards?”

A monk also shook his head.

“While taking lives is not desirable, it is inconceivable for a Shaolin disciple to witness injustice and turn a blind eye. We will assist.”

Namgung Changhwi stared at them blankly before suddenly raising his head.

“...It was all pointless. It’s too late.”

Fierce presences rapidly approached through the dark of night.

A signal flare soon fired, illuminating a corner of the sky faintly as if mocking them.

Were we discovered before we could even send a signal?

That signal flare was likely fired by the Black Serpent bastards as a form of mockery.

Namgung Changhwi moved forward, watching the distant fireworks in the sky.

“...Let’s go.”

Blue robes fluttered with the snowfall, Namgung martial artists following behind him.

*Swords clashed against each other, ground drenched with blood. An unidentifiable corpse was stepped on.

Namgung Changhwi suddenly came to his senses and looked around in a daze.

People were dying like insects. He swung his sword reflexively, reacting to an incoming attack.

Clang!

After deflecting the sword, his opponent retreated. The Namgung martial artists maintained their sword formation, lending strength to Namgung Changhwi.

The opponent didn’t mind.

“You still fight like a woman!”

It was Heuk-gwol of the Great Black Mountain Sect, charging into the Namgung Clan’s sword formation alone.

From within the flow of the formation, Namgung Changhwi struggled to deflect that sword.

Heuk-gwol wasn’t completely at ease either. He knew that cutting down the surrounding martial artists would make things easier, but doing so would give an opening for a counterattack.

Namgung Changhwi seized the flow of the sword formation at once and swung his sword widely.

Boom! Heuk-gwol leapt back. In that gap, Namgung Changhwi quickly scanned the battlefield.

Grandmaster Ji-baek of Shaolin, and the Drunken Dog Beggar of the Beggar’s Union. Both were still alive. It wasn’t the worst possible situation.

Actually—Drunken Dog Beggar just died.

“Elder...!”

Visit freewebnoveℓ.com for the best novel reading exp𝒆rience.

The Drunken Dog Beggar’s head exploded from a fist force. Namgung Changhwi bit his lip.

The worst has happened.

The balance they had barely maintained completely collapsed. Knowing what a freed Transcendent Realm expert could do, his mind fell into chaos.

“...Save the Beggar’s Union.”

The martial artists forming the sword formation quickly moved to join with the Beggar’s Union.

The Black Serpent simply watched. The outcome of the battle was already determined.

“Not bad for someone raised with everything handed on a silver platter.”

Cheok Mukang of the Black Dragon Sect laughed greatly. He was the one who had just crushed the Drunken Dog Beggar’s head. Behind him, massive Black Dragon Sect martial artists stood viciously.

“Shut up. That Namgung guy is mine, so don’t touch him.”

At Heuk-gwol’s words, Cheok Mukang snorted.

“What, am I supposed to just stand around? I don’t feel like jumping in there.”

The clash between Shaolin and the North Sea Ice Palace. It was chaos. The surrounded alternated between freezing to everything shattering with a golden light.

Watching the two casually chatting, Namgung Changhwi sent a sound transmission.

[Retreat during this opening. If we stay, everyone will die. Take whoever you can and head to Anhui. I’ll hold them off.]

There was no response. The Namgung martial artists who received the transmission glared at him.

“We cannot do that.”

One of them raised his sword.

“Namgung is Undefeated! Peerless Under the Heavens!”

“The Sword of Namgung is Unbending and Unbreaking!”

As the others continued the chant, Namgung Changhwi furrowed his brow.

“You’re all too young...”

What use is such spirit if they all die? Whatever it is, it only has meaning if they live.

Though it might be shameless for him to think this after ordering them to die together, if a path to survival emerged, they shouldn’t hesitate.

“Stupid fools.”

Sighing, he pointed his sword. Well, since it’s come to this. They’ll just have to cut down everyone and return alive.

Heuk-gwol, who had been watching them with a strange expression, smiled.

“This should be fun.”

“No, we should retreat.”

“What?”

Heuk-gwol frowned, but Cheok Mukang shook his head.

Despite his appearance suggestions he had muscles for brains, he also served as a strategist in this battle.

“Their reinforcements have arrived. Two Transcendent Realm experts. We’ve already gained enough from this, no need to continue fighting.”

“God damnit.”

Heuk-gwol irritably turned away. Cheok Mukang waved his hand at Namgung Changhwi.

“See you next time.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

A voice came from the sky. Cheok Mukang looked up.

When did he...?

A man stood high in the sky, his ten fingers pressed together as he looked down.

Chaotic spheres formed between each of his fingers. Cheok Mukang’s expression hardened at the ominous aura he felt.

“Heuk-gwol. We need to block this.”

“What the hell is that...”

Five spheres descended from above. Heuk-gwol and Cheok Mukang each projected reinforced qi to intercept them.

BOOOOOOOM──────────!!!

Upon colliding with the ground, they exploded, a large explosion sweeping across the entire area.

Cheok Mukang’s expression froze as he waved away the dust.

“...Who the fuck is that?”

Dozens of Black Serpent martial artists died, several Peak Realm experts died, and all martial artists below that were killed.

Yet not a single orthodox faction martial artist was harmed. The control of qi was close to unequaled. This was no ordinary martial arts master.

As the man descended to the ground, his black martial outfit fluttered. Cheok Mukang’s body trembled when his eyes met those pitch-black ones through the snowfall.

“My Lord...! Let’s go together!”

Thud! A large figure landed beside the man. He looked like a bandit, with blue martial clothes visible underneath.

“Namgung?”

Cheok Mukang thought rapidly and came to a conclusion.

“I see. So that’s the one they call Heavenly True Qi.”

“What? Then, what should we...?”

“Withdraw. Our reinforcements will arrive soon, better to wait.”

“Will he let us go?”

“He’d better.”

Cheok Mukang grinned.

He instantly shot fist force towards a distant tent.

“Oh no...!”

Namgung Changhwi quickly blocked the way. Seojun, only moving his eyes, flicked his index and middle fingers simultaneously.

Bang!

A large qi bullet intercepted the fist force.

He could sense that there were injured people in that tent.

The Black Serpent martial artists quickly fled, leaving Seojun glaring at their backs.

The North Sea Ice Palace martial artists who had been fighting the Shaolin monks also quickly disappeared with their subordinates.

Seojun shifted his gaze from their retreating figures.

The dead, the severely injured, the less injured.

Some of those dying could be saved by his power.

They themselves may have to bear the price, but at least their lives could be saved.

“Please gather the critically wounded immediately.”

Namgung Chang-hwi watching him nodded.

“...Will do.”