TSBIRBV Ch 42

Chapter 42 Namgung Un (7)

“Are you alright?”

Un’s voice pressed gently, noticing Yegyeol looking dazed. Supporting him upright, his bamboo hat slipped back to reveal a face even more striking than Yegyeol had imagined. His features matched his refined manner: Un was every bit the gentle young master.

Yegyeol quickly steadied himself on his own two feet, refusing to look directly at him. The guiding power he felt was overwhelming — not as intense as Je Haryang’s, yet stronger than any guide he had ever encountered back in Korea.

Why is it that every guide I meet here can’t control their damn guiding?

Samrang strode forward, deliberately stepping between them like a barrier. Whether intentional or not, her voice rang sharp:

“This is no time! The river pirates—!”

BOOM!

Something massive rammed into their ship — another vessel, ten times their size, tearing through the mist. At its prow, carved from wood and painted black, loomed the snarling head of a serpent-dragon, jaws twisted like a demon denied the heavens.

Nothing like Baembaem.

“Jiaolong Ship! It’s the Jiaolong King himself!”

The sailors’ shrill cries filled the deck.

“Why would the Yangtze Waterway Alliance’s chief be here?”

Men collapsed in despair, unable even to grip their blades.

“All Okhyeong Sect disciples, draw swords!”

Un surged to the front line. Every sweep of his blade lashed lightning through the fog, thin arcs of crackling radiance coiling around his sword.

Sword Qi?

The flashing yellow-white looked eerily like lightning itself — and Yegyeol recalled rumors that the Namgung clan’s internal arts bore the power of thunder.

For the first time since their encounter, Un spared no mercy. His blade cut rivers through waves of men, crimson spraying the mist, his movements sharp, unhesitating.

Still rattled from meeting this second “guide,” Yegyeol didn’t even notice Samrang’s tongue click behind him.

“Crew! Keep distance from the Jiaolong Ship! Fighters take arms, civilians below deck!”

Yegyeol raised his voice, echoing Un’s command:

“Throw the cargo overboard! Discard it all and increase speed!”

Sailors froze at the guild master’s order.

“Even if we toss goods, there’s no escaping the Jiaolong Ship!”

But already Yegyeol cracked open a chest of valuables and hurled it into the river. True to nature, some pirates leapt greedily into the water to seize what glittered.

“Sir, stand back,” Samrang warned.

“Why?”

“The Jiaolong King hasn’t appeared yet.”

Her words no sooner spoken than WHIP! A thick black braid of chain tore the mast in half, shredding Tang Clan’s green banner and slamming the deck.

At its end swung a rusted anchor, massive enough to berth a ship, now flung like a toy stone.

Yegyeol swallowed hard at how narrowly it missed his face.

The source stepped into view — a woman standing tall on the enemy’s rail, her exposed arm glinting with dull metal.

Prosthetic…?

“Come out!”

She bellowed, and the air froze.

The Jiaolong King.

“Come out, rat! Where do you hide!”

Her voice, packed with inner power, hammered into Yegyeol’s skull with pain.

Another swing — the anchor embedded into the mast, toppling it like uprooting a tree.

“She wields the Jiaolong Chain like her own limb… truly the Jiaolong King.”

So that was it. Her weapon, the black-dyed rope and anchor, was the famed Jiaolong Chain itself — her very title taken from it.

“Of all bad luck…”

Sails torn, mast collapsed — no hope of outrunning her.

“Tang Seoak!”

Yegyeol blinked. That name again.

The King’s trap was clear. Seoak had lured them onto this voyage, even volunteering Tang escorts as “scouts” and handing over Tang banners — all to bait the Jiaolong King’s wrath onto Qinghai. Perhaps Tang planned to reappear as saviors afterwards.

“You play well…” Yegyeol muttered.

“Tang Seoak! Show yourself or I’ll hang your men one by one to feed the fish!”

A sailor writhed at the end of her chain, choking in silence.

Un darted forward. Yegyeol’s heart nearly burst in shock.

Not attachment — but drilled instinct. Years of conditioning at the Center had carved it in him: protect your guide.

Unbelievable. Two guides — in my twenty years I never had one, and here already two matches, one after another. Is this world a paradise of guides? …Except, there’s only me as an esper.

“YOU!”

The chain lashed toward him. Un didn’t retreat — instead, he dove into its range, fearless.

With incredible boldness, he twisted within movements that should have crushed him. At the last moment, he scooped the shackled sailor into his arms, rolling them both free.

“He smells of the orthodox clans!” the Jiaolong King snarled.

Her chain coiled suddenly like a living serpent, wrapping Un tight. Dragging him across the planks, her sneer echoed.

“Don’t lie to me! Tang Seoak’s vanguard passed just ahead — he must be here!”

“No such man walks among us!” Un shouted back, breaking free in an explosive heave.

The chain lashed again. An Yipseon disciple shrieked as his arm snapped, dangling limp.

Swords clashed, chaos spilled — martial heroes against river pirates in a desperate melee.

Samrang even then casually deflected stray splinters and blades from striking Yegyeol, her face oddly detached.

Through it, Yegyeol saw the Jiaolong King’s cruel smile — and doors below deck opened.

The civilians Un had hidden earlier now re-emerged — blades pressed to their throats. Pirates they’d captured had been freed, and now wielded hostages like shields.

“Drop your swords!”

“Or he dies!”

Un hesitated only a moment before slamming his white blade into the deck and letting chains bind him.

Yegyeol fingered his sleeve nervously, Baembaem brushing his wrist encouragingly. Should he? Should he unleash it?

A whisper twisted into his thoughts — Samrang’s sound transmission:

천년뇌각망 (Millennium Thunder-Horned Python) must never be revealed! That man is Namgung Un, direct scion of the Namgung clan!

Yegyeol froze — then remembered Kunlun. Yes, the Namgung clan had once dispatched the Azure Sky Flight Corps to claim Baembaem after the massacre.

Baembaem’s rightful “owner” had just appeared.