Chapter 153
The Green Forest Bandits don't discriminate between targets.
Whether it’s because they see themselves as lords of the mountain, or because they’ve trained martial arts far better than the average ruffian, there are many reasons.
But the biggest one is this:
They’re confident they can escape anywhere as long as they don’t lose their heads.
The mountains are practically their living room. That’s why large-scale exterminations have always failed, even if a few Green Forest bandits get caught here and there.
Unless someone like Seorin, an absolute top-tier martial artist, personally hunts them down, it’s inevitable that some of the bandits scattered in all directions will escape.
So my plan was to drown them in killing intent from the start, rendering them unable to move, and capture every last one of them.
As expected, most of the bandits—ranging from Peak to first-class martial artists—were overwhelmed by the killing aura and froze in place.
Which is why I was surprised.
“(Gal)!!” An elderly monk, who had stepped forward to protect the merchants traveling with him, had entered the area suffused with my killing intent—yet was completely unaffected, swinging his staff wildly as he marched toward me.
“Young one, your head is filled with demons!”
“To see such wicked killing aura again! I cannot stand idly by and watch this!”
“…Excuse me?”
Judging by what he said, he wasn’t unaware of my killing aura. He could sense it clearly—he was simply outraged by the malice within it.
Most likely, he had mistaken me for one of the bandits.
This wasn’t like Tang Sowol, who couldn’t be affected by my killing intent at all because she was incapable of harboring murderous thoughts herself.
I had never seen this monk before in either my past or current life.
Which meant he was likely a reclusive martial artist, living in hiding.
But no matter how I looked, I couldn’t sense any presence or force coming from him.
Since Raging Wave Death-Stealing Art infuses inner energy with killing aura, when I surround an area like this, my senses become twice as sharp.
Under normal circumstances, even a martial artist at the Flowering Stage would have a hard time hiding their energy from me in this domain.
So when I examined him with that heightened awareness, I realized—he didn’t have any inner energy at all.
He was just an ordinary old man.
How could someone like that withstand my killing aura so casually?
Caught off guard by this unexpected reaction, I froze. That’s when the monk shouted with conviction:
“But it’s not too late. If you repent now and live quietly, offering prayers, you can still die as a man, having lived as one.”
“…I think there’s a misunderstanding, sir. I’m not one of the Green Forest Bandits.”
“Have you not realized it yet? Or are you trying to deceive me…? Then I have no choice. I must personally guide you!”
With that, the old monk gripped his staff like a cudgel and charged.
His movement was slow and stiff, like any ordinary elder. Yet strangely, I couldn’t take my eyes off the path of his staff.
It wasn’t just decent—it was outstanding. Among the staff techniques of Shaolin I saw during my time with the Orthodox-Demonic Alliance, his was among the best.
And so, without meaning to, I swung my sword at full strength.
A crimson flame-tinged slash struck the monk’s staff. Or rather, obliterated it.
Kwajjik!
I had held back at the last moment, so I avoided slicing the monk himself along with the staff, but the shock of the impact sent him flying.
He didn’t get up, just lay there staring at the sky—likely unconscious.
…
A brief silence.
Thankfully, his chest was still rising and falling peacefully, so it didn’t seem too serious.
Tang Sowol, who had been watching the whole scene nearby, spoke in a dry tone:
“…Shall we finish up first?”
“That would be best.”
As I let go of Tang Sowol, she flicked her sleeve and released a faint yellow poisonous mist into the air.
The Green Forest Bandits, most of whom were of second- to first-class level, collapsed one after another. Their strength visibly drained, as if they’d been reduced to powerless civilians.
The hulking man in wolf pelts, likely the leader, was the only one who managed to endure the poison… though even he was staggering as his inner energy scattered.
Satisfied that things were under control, I withdrew the killing aura and walked over to the pale-faced leader.
“Just asking—do you have any special purpose or secret information worth whispering to me alone?”
“Kgh! If I did, would you even consider sparing me?”
“I could offer you a painless death.”
“Hah! If I can unsettle the bastard who’s about to kill me by gritting my teeth through the pain… sounds like a good deal.”
“Actually, even that won’t be easy. Sowol, please.”
“Yes, I already prepared it.”
Tang Sowol raised her palm and blew gently over it.
A white poisonous mist, seemingly from nothing, spread out from her hand and engulfed the leader’s face.
“Poison?! You cowardly—!”
“I don’t know why a bandit who robs the weak and runs at the first sign of danger thinks he has the right to talk about cowardice.”
As I shrugged, the mist spread, and the leader’s eyes turned blank.
“Cheon Hwi,”
“Mm?”
“Sometimes, having a test subject to try new poison combinations on isn’t such a bad thing.”
…That’s a pretty intense statement, but now that I think about it, all the poisons you used today are ones I’ve never seen before.
The yellow mist she released at first probably combined the effects of a sleeping toxin and an air disruption poison.
If effective, it’d be a perfect subjugation poison. Though its potency still seemed too weak to affect anyone above Peak Stage.
Then there was the white powder she blew from her palm.
Normally, poisons used in interrogations to cloud the mind could only be made in liquid form, and only on the hand.
The formula was so complex and delicate that even Tang Sowol, with her Poison Spirit Constitution, could make mistakes and end up with a completely different poison.
But today, though still mixed in the palm, she’d produced a powder-type variant with far more flexibility.
Recently, with all the incidents we’ve been involved in, she’s begun experimenting with poisons that have more diverse effects than just causing death.
Clearly, she’s had some breakthroughs.
I mean, I have memories from a past life, but she only recently began her journey through the martial world.
Every bit of experience is valuable for her right now.
Smiling inwardly with pride, I began questioning the dazed bandit leader.
Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—no hidden conspiracy came to light.
Just the usual banditry: hoarding wealth, sending regular tributes to the main chief, recently looting a small farming village…
Vile, yes, but nothing more than typical scum behavior.
I had been worried that taking down these bandits might draw us into some bigger mess, but it seems that won’t be the case.
Good. I might actually keep my promise not to get involved in troublesome affairs this time.
Nodding inwardly, I struck the bandit leader’s dantian with inner energy.
“Ghak!”
He coughed up blood, eyes dazed.
After our late-arriving companions joined, we shattered the dantians of the remaining bandits and tied them up, now writhing on the ground in pain.
Then I approached the merchants, who were glancing back and forth between me and the fallen monk.
Some of the armed escorts cautiously stepped in my way, sensing the lingering killing aura even if they hadn’t been directly targeted.
I gently pushed them aside. A well-dressed merchant stepped forward and bowed deeply.
“Thank you for your help. I am Gwak Yeong, leader of the Oeum Merchant Group.”
“Ah, I’m Cheon Hwi of the Tang Clan in Sichuan.”
“And I’m Tang Sowol, also of the Tang Clan.”
“Oh! You’re from the Tang Clan!”
Only then did the merchant leader’s tense expression ease.
He must’ve been nervous after seeing us take down even the elderly monk.
Chuckling lightly at his sigh of relief, I asked,
“We plan to hand over the captured Green Forest Bandits. Do you know the way to the nearest local authority? We’re unfamiliar with Hanan Province.”
“Hm… this area only has small villages nearby, so you’ll need to travel quite a bit. May I ask where you’re headed? If it’s on the way, I can direct you to the right government office.”
“We’re planning to stop by Shaolin Temple.”
“Ah! In that case, you can simply come with us! We’re heading toward Songshan as well.”
“You have business with Shaolin Temple, sir?”
“Oh, no! We’re just a small merchant group. There’s no way we could do business directly with Shaolin. We’re just selling goods to shops in a nearby village. Still, would you care to join us? Since we owe you our lives, we’ll treat you as comfortably as possible on the way.”
The merchant leader watched us carefully as he made the offer again.
Having just been attacked, he was probably desperate for extra protection.
And since we were escorting the bandits anyway, we couldn’t travel quickly by ourselves.
If we can travel more comfortably, that’s a better deal.
I looked around at my companions—they all nodded. I gave a nod in response.
“Then we gratefully accept your hospitality.”
“Of course! You saved our lives—it’s the least we can do!”
The merchant leader waved his hands with a laugh and ordered his workers to move their goods and make room in the wagon.
He pointed at the unconscious monk and asked,
“By the way, who is this man?”
“Ah… well…”
The merchant leader hesitated, and I shook my head.
“There was a bit of a misunderstanding. Despite his age, he bravely stepped up to stop evil. We bear no ill will, so don’t worry.”
“That’s good to hear. He’s a scholar monk from Shaolin Temple. He came out on an errand but lost his travel funds to thieves, so we offered him a ride.”
“…A scholar monk?”
Shaolin is famous as the source of all martial arts under heaven.
They teach a vast and profound martial curriculum, and many great masters come from there.
They’re even called the North Star of the Orthodox Factions.
But not every Shaolin monk practices martial arts.
Those who train their bodies and learn martial arts to fight evil are warrior monks.
Those who study Buddhist scriptures instead, aiming to save others through preaching, are scholar monks.
But the old monk earlier—while lacking inner energy—demonstrated martial skill on par with the top-tier staff techniques I knew.
Unless he was a former warrior monk with a shattered dantian, there’s no way he could be a scholar monk…
Still, I suppose Shaolin has its own internal issues.
It’s a place full of people, after all—problems are bound to exist.
I nodded and squeezed into an empty spot in the wagon with my companions.
The misunderstanding could be cleared up later once the monk woke up.
For now, we could just enjoy a peaceful journey.
…Or so I thought.
That is, until the monk woke up and, without any inner energy, charged at me using one of Shaolin’s Seventy-Two Ultimate Techniques.
“Ah.”
Only after I reflexively overpowered him again due to his incredible execution did I let out a long sigh.
I guess the misunderstanding will have to wait.
***
By the time we reached Shaolin Temple,
The old monk had fainted and regained consciousness seven times.
There was nothing I could do.