HDCLSSRS Ch 166

Chapter 166 The Badger (1)

The moment he entered the village, stinging gazes poured down on him.

He looked like a vagrant who had gone days without washing, caked in dirt and dust, with an unpleasant stench clinging to his clothes.

“Must be a martial artist….”

“Did another fight break out somewhere again?”

Kang Ung ignored the murmuring onlookers and continued forward in silence.

Three years ago, he would have flushed with shame at such an unclean appearance. But the boy had lived through far too much to be shaken by something so trivial.

He entered an inn located along the main road.

“Welcome—!”

The innkeeper’s face twisted sharply when he took in Kang Ung’s appearance and the real sword hanging from his waist.

“…Show.”

“Two rooms, please.”

“Judging by your looks, you’re a martial artist….”

The innkeeper narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, I am. Why do you ask?”

Without replying, the man jerked his chin toward a pillar inside the inn. Large characters were written there:

No Martial Artists Allowed.

“…That wasn’t there the last time I stayed.”

Kang Ung muttered in confusion.

“Do you have any idea how much damage we’ve suffered because martial artists get into fights every other day these days? Travelers have stopped coming altogether, and just the other day the Twin Tiger Inn across the street was thrown into chaos!”

Listening closely, it seemed that a minor clash between small sects had occurred a few days earlier. Unfortunately, one of the inn’s main beams had broken, causing the roof to collapse.

Of course, no one had died or been seriously injured, so from a martial artist’s perspective it might be called “minor.” But to ordinary folk, it was anything but.

Kang Ung let out a quiet sigh.

He could understand the innkeeper’s concerns.

Over the past few years, incidents large and small had erupted across the martial world in quick succession, and the atmosphere had grown increasingly ominous. Martial artists, already on edge, often allowed even trivial disputes to escalate into violent clashes.

Still, Kang Ung had his own reasons and could not simply back down.

“I’m sorry to hear that. But could you make an exception just this once? I arranged to meet my master here…. We won’t cause any trouble.”

“Hmph. And how am I supposed to trust that? The Twin Tiger Inn took in some well-dressed Taoists too, and look what happened to them!”

“That’s unreasonable! I didn’t do that, and neither did my sect. This kind of treatment is unfair!”

“Ah, I don’t care. In any case, I won’t give you a room, so leave at once!”

Just as the innkeeper waved his hand dismissively—

“Is there a problem?”

In the quiet space, steady footsteps echoed.

The man who appeared was tall, dressed in dark martial robes, with a single sword at his waist. His thick hair was tied back, cascading over his shoulders. Though his eyes looked languid at first glance, his sharp jawline and tightly pressed lips gave off an unyielding aura.

With his arrival, even the air seemed to sink heavily. The guests eating on the first floor held their breath, all eyes fixed on him.

“M-Master….”

Baek Ryeoil’s sunken black eyes swept briefly over Kang Ung and the innkeeper. Kang Ung’s expression darkened. With his master here, there would be no quietly smoothing things over.

The once-arrogant innkeeper turned pale, clamping his mouth shut like someone whose teeth had stuck fast to a piece of taffy.

“I asked if there was a problem.”

“Th-That is….”

When Kang Ung’s gaze flicked to the “No Martial Artists Allowed” notice on the wall, Baek Ryeoil followed it, his brow twitching slightly.

Unlike Kang Ung, whose clothes were so soaked in blood from days of brutal fighting that their original color was unrecognizable, Baek Ryeoil’s attire was clean. Thanks to that, someone among the onlookers noticed the emblem embroidered on his chest.

“Mount Hua Sect…!”

“Could that Taoist be the infamous Demon-Slaying Blood Shadow, Baek Ryeoil Dojang…?”

Though the voices were low, the surrounding silence carried every word clearly.

Baek Ryeoil of Mount Hua.

Demon-Slaying Blood Shadow.

He had been famous before, but now there was no one who did not know his name.

“M-Mount Hua….”

The innkeeper stared up at Baek Ryeoil in a daze. Kang Ung bounced on his feet anxiously, worried that his master’s temper might snap.

“Room.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Two.”

“H-Here you are! Please rest comfortably!”

Fortunately, before Baek Ryeoil’s patience ran out, the innkeeper came to his senses and handed over two keys. He was so deferential it seemed he might refuse payment altogether, as though offering Baek Ryeoil a room were the greatest honor imaginable.

Phew….

Contrary to Kang Ung’s fears of another bloodbath, Baek Ryeoil said nothing and headed upstairs. Kang Ung breathed a sigh of relief. But his ordeal was far from over.

Hurrying after his master, Kang Ung suddenly noticed a sheet of paper posted on the wall and felt a sharp pain stab through his chest.

It was a wanted notice bearing a sketch of the face of the most infamous criminal in the Central Plains—the Demonic Cult’s Seventh Young Master, Seong Muyeon.

Such notices were plastered everywhere, so common that one could find them at a glance no matter where one went.

Swallowing the surge of heat rising in his throat, Kang Ung forced himself to look away. But Baek Ryeoil, too, was staring fixedly at the notice.

“Master….”

A crack appeared in his otherwise impassive expression. His brow furrowed, and his clenched fist slowly filled with strength.

Sensing the subtle change, Kang Ung grew uneasy. If someone provoked him now, his master’s restraint might finally snap. He did not even want to imagine what would happen then.

Please, just go into the room already….

“Baek Ryeoil! You bastard! So this is where you were hiding!”

Five young swordsmen burst into the inn.

What now…?

“We’ve just returned from Mount Mi!”

Kang Ung tilted his head. Mount Mi was also a place he and Baek Ryeoil had visited.

“We went to deal with the Demonic Cult scum who were harassing civilians, only to find them all cold corpses! You dare steal our prey? You sly bastard!”

One of them boldly drew his sword.

“We are the Five Dragons of Sichuan! We’ll repay this humiliation with steel! Come on!”

Kang Ung pressed a hand to his forehead and glanced nervously at his master.

This is bad….

Baek Ryeoil’s black eyes sank even deeper, darkening like a bottomless pit. A chilling aura seemed to prickle against the skin.

His master had already been in a foul mood since returning from Mount Mi. They had rushed there upon hearing rumors of Demonic Cult activity, only to find no trace of the person they sought. Another empty chase—one of many.

As a disciple who had stayed by his side for three years, Kang Ung knew all too well that in moments like this, Baek Ryeoil showed mercy to no one, regardless of who stood before him.

“M-Master! Please go on ahead and soak in a hot bath to ease your body! I’ll take care of this here!”

“…You?”

“Yes! I was feeling stiff and wanted to move around anyway. This works out perfectly.”

Baek Ryeoil studied his disciple skeptically, then gave a slight nod.

“Deal with it and come back.”

“Yes!”

Once Baek Ryeoil disappeared beyond the stair landing, Kang Ung finally relaxed, wiping the cold sweat from his brow.

“You should consider yourselves lucky.”

With a long sigh, Kang Ung loosened his sword.

“Hah! Arrogant little brat. Fine—I’ll teach you some manners in your master’s stead! We can deal with Baek Ryeoil afterward; it won’t be too late!”

As the Five Dragons of Sichuan drew their swords in unison, sharp metallic sounds rang out. The inn’s patrons screamed and fled for their lives.

Kang Ung suddenly felt a gaze on him and turned his head. The innkeeper was peeking out from behind the counter, and their eyes met. A storm of resentment and betrayal burned in the man’s gaze—he was likely cursing Kang Ung to his core.

Though never his intention, things had turned out exactly as the innkeeper feared.

“I’m sorry….”

Kang Ung offered a silent apology.

A moment later—

“Ugh….”

The Five Dragons of Sichuan lay sprawled on the floor, having failed to even properly swing their swords. Kang Ung stacked their unconscious bodies neatly by the door.

The roof had not collapsed like at the Twin Tiger Inn, but several tables and chairs on the first floor were smashed.

With lips pressed into a thin line, Kang Ung carefully placed a few silver coins before the glaring innkeeper, plastered on an apologetic expression, and went upstairs.

At long last, having fulfilled his long-held wish to wash himself in hot water, Kang Ung emerged from the bath feeling refreshed.

His master was seated at a table in the common area, flipping through a stack of papers. They contained brief snippets of information regarding the Demonic Cult’s movements.

“Any useful information?”

“It’s all garbage.”

Baek Ryeoil crumpled the papers irritably and tossed them aside.

“Useless fools. Whether it’s the Hao Sect or the Beggars’ Union, none of them can do anything properly. They said this time was solid information, and yet we chased nothing again.”

A week earlier, they had obtained information about the whereabouts of the Poison Fiend through the Hao Sect. They had immediately raided the hideout, only to be greeted by nameless Demonic Cult lackeys.

The target himself was absent, but the two of them thoroughly cleansed the hideout. It took five days to track down and eradicate even those who fled, leaving no roots behind. Even now, thinking back to the nights spent pursuing remnants without time to wash the blood from their clothes made Kang Ung’s teeth clench.

“When I went to demand answers, that bastard who swore it was reliable information had already tucked his tail between his legs and run.”

Baek Ryeoil clicked his tongue.

Kang Ung sat across from him.

“…Shouldn’t we start heading back now?”

After hesitating briefly, Kang Ung asked cautiously. Baek Ryeoil’s gaze snapped to him at once.