TSBIRBV Ch 27

Chapter 27 The Tang Clan of Sichuan (6)

The Green Forest bandits were utterly flustered by Yegyeol’s whimsical commands.

“Bring me eggs. Why’s the seating here so shabby? Doesn’t the chief have at least one tiger-skin chair? Lay an ambush here, another over there…”

After rolling around here and there under his orders, they no longer even questioned why they had to obey—only their bodies moved automatically.

Having thoroughly drained the bandits’ spirit, Yegyeol leaned back comfortably in a chair set up in a spot with a clear view of the main road. He had expected a bandit chief to at least drape tiger hide on his seat, but they’d given him deer hide instead.

“Oh. They’re here. Look.”

He felt almost regretful there was no popcorn. The “film” was about to begin.

Among the martial artists of the Tang Clan escorting the caravan, there were none whose faces Yegyeol recognized. Tang Seoak was merely the overseer; it seemed a subordinate squad had been dispatched.

The leader at the head of the group was a seasoned-looking woman. She reined in her horse and gave the order to those following her.

“Stop. There’s an obstacle ahead.”

The “iron caltrop gift set” the bandit chief—better suited to being a shopping channel host—had so proudly prepared had been instantly spotted.

Watching a Tang Clan guard come forward and pry them off the road with an iron crowbar, Yegyeol lost interest.

“How you lot aren’t starving… actually, I’m surprised you even manage to stay alive.”

“Haha. We are good at running away, at least.”

“And yet you got caught by our Samrang?”

“…”

It was an unseemly thing to see a burly middle-aged man hang his head, so Yegyeol jabbed him in the back.

“What are you waiting for? Go out there. Go greet the guests.”

The tone was as gentle as a spring breeze, but it was still a threat. The chief, tears in his eyes, drew the short saber from his belt and shouted,

“Charge! Boys!”

“Waaaa!”

With him plunging down the slope first, the bandits followed. Yegyeol slipped into their dust cloud and joined them.

“Green Forest?”

“That’s right!” the chief bellowed proudly.

Good pick.

He had originally planned to take over any nearby stronghold at random, but this felt like a lucky draw.

“We manage this road! So would you… turn back, please?”

“What?”

Either threaten them properly or stand down from the start.

Tang Clan leader Tang Eonbo frowned as if to ask if they were joking.

The chief, lacking the internal strength for a sound transmission, mouthed silently, Please!

Just as Tang Eonbo read his lips and sensed something off—

Splat!

A raw egg came flying, striking her on the head. Yolk oozed from the cracked shell and dripped down her forehead.

The sensation of it running down her face could not have been more insulting.

Oh no!

The chief squeezed his eyes shut.

Come to think of it, despite looking troubled earlier, that young master had been grinning from ear to ear…

Even if he explained now that he’d had nothing to do with it, would that save his life? In the eyes of orthodox sect martial artists, a Green Forest bandit’s life was worth less than a fly’s. They would separate his head from his body before hearing him out.

In the end, placing his faith in the young master’s words seemed his only option.

When he opened his eyes again, the chief’s gaze was vacant. Having met someone more terrifying than tigers or plague—Wen Yegyeol—his soul was halfway gone.

“Hand over the goods and get lost, and I’ll let you live!”

Inside, he still longed to drop to his knees before Tang Eonbo, kiss her insteps, and beg for mercy.

But the vivid sight of egg yolk running down her brow was etched into his mind…

There was no undoing it.

Grinding her teeth, Tang Eonbo finally spoke.

“All units, prepare for combat.”

A hail of razor-sharp throwing weapons rained down toward the Green Forest side.

Samrang deflected the most lethal ones with graceful swipes, all while keeping the enemy’s advance in check.

As expected.

Yegyeol watched the battlefield with a cool gaze.

The assault relied more on projectile weapons than on poison.

It was exactly what he had suspected. This wasn’t a game—it was reality. One could kill a teammate just as easily as an enemy, especially with indiscriminate poison gas.

Thus, no matter how potent the Tang Clan’s toxins were, they would have to hold back on their venom arts here—most of their caravan were non-martial merchants of the Qinghai Company.

At critical moments, Yegyeol generated static shocks to make an enemy drop their weapon. That much he could manage easily. But using the slight magnetism generated by faint pulses of lightning to alter a projectile’s angle—that required focus.

Right now, he was using this skirmish as a kind of field experiment: to test how much power he could use, and how subtly he could apply it.

It was a rare opportunity—small-scale battle, and Samrang too busy to keep an eye on him.

Not bad at all.

Sticking close to Haryang before leaving Qinghai had helped. He now had the composure to attempt such tricks.

Moreover, having stored much of his power in the Millennium Thunder-Horned Python had trained him to use power in small, precise amounts instead of always having it sloshing over the brim.

Static electricity… not bad at all.

In combat, a moment decides the outcome. A martial artist who loses their weapon might as well be a walking corpse.

Still, he only used enough strength to avoid drawing attention, and observed the flow.

Samrang was the star of the field. Wearing Green Forest garb, she slipped among the bandits, subtly shoving those in danger out of harm’s way, tripping up Tang Clan fighters with uncanny footwork. When she ran out of her own projectiles, she naturally stole weapons from the enemy’s belt to keep fighting, all the while provoking them deftly.

Appearing without sound and vanishing the same way, she was clearly trained in assassin’s arts—but toying with Tang Clan martial artists head-on spoke of extraordinary skill.

She’s too strong, honestly.

She moved like a fish in water, made all the easier with Yegyeol’s covert backup. And the bandits’ fierce ankle-grabbing played a part as well. He suspected reminding them that losing here could mean ending up test subjects for deadly poisons had lit a fire under them.

“Damn it! Mere bandits!” Tang Eonbo snarled. But having exhausted her throwing weapons, there was little she could do against Samrang’s footwork.

In the end, the victors tied up Tang Eonbo and all the other Tang Clan members.

They strung the Tang Clan fighters up and carefully bound the caravan members before tossing them into a deep pit they couldn’t climb out of. None had sustained mortal wounds, so rescue at the right time would ensure no one died.

“Move everything! Carefully!” the chief ordered—likely at Samrang’s whispered prompting.

Back at the fortress with Qinghai Company’s goods in tow, the chief was smiling broader than Yegyeol had ever seen.

“Ha ha! We’re rich! Rich!”

“We?”

Yegyeol’s sunny smile made the chief shrink.

“O-of course, I mean you, great sir.”

“Just teasing. You’ll get your cut.”

He only wanted to throw some cold water on the man’s glee at robbing Qinghai Company’s own goods under their master’s eye.

Samrang’s slitted eyes suggested she saw what he was doing.

As long as it doesn’t reach Senior Brother’s ears, it’s fine.

Yegyeol jerked his chin toward the cargo that had required even a jangja-su cartman to move.

“Carry it and follow me.”

“…Huh?”

“You wanna get paid, we have to sell it.”

The chief scrambled to load back onto the cart what his men had just unloaded.

“Where are you planning to sell this?”

Without looking back, Yegyeol replied to Samrang’s question,

“That’s for you to lead me to. Where’s the biggest black market in Sichuan?”

“The… black market? And the biggest one?”

For once, there was a hint of surprise in her voice.

“It’s stolen goods. We fence it. We still get the penalty fee, and with a slush fund like this, doesn’t that help the company’s finances?”

“Oh…”

Samrang’s tone held genuine admiration.

“I’ll take you.”

“Send them off first. We’ve got something to do here.”

She moved lightly, draping an arm companionably over the chief’s shoulders and murmuring a few words—after which he hurried off with his men down the mountain.

“Aren’t you going to follow and keep an eye on them?”

“They’ll be waiting.”

Yegyeol smirked.

He wasn’t the type to hide his work anyway. Better to flaunt it openly before his Senior Brother’s subordinate.

Raising his left hand, Baembeam poked its head out from under his sleeve. Samrang regarded it in puzzlement.

“Take care of this.”

He murmured to it. Blue-white lightning sparked along the length of the golden snake’s body, growing and growing.

“Guild Master!”

Samrang’s voice was almost a scream of shock. Before her were Yegyeol’s eyes, blazing with a golden light she had never seen before.

Then lightning fell from him.

Once, twice, three times—

The bolts split the air and struck, setting the wooden buildings of the fortress ablaze. The fire spread instantly, devouring every structure.

It was the second time since coming to the martial world that he had drawn on his power so deeply.

“Burns nicely,” Yegyeol whistled jauntily.

Notes:

• Jangja-su (쟁자수) — a carter or teamster handling freight transport by cart.