Chapter 188
"Hey! If you wanna die, get in line!"
"Nice one, Hyang-ah! Just freeze them all!"
Seol Lihyang was panting with exertion after toppling a brawny thug twice her size with a flick of her hand.
Seo Mun-Hwarin clapped her hands with delight, clearly enjoying herself.
“…What in the world is this?”
For a moment, both I and Tang Sowol stood frozen in place, unable to immediately grasp the situation.
An inn. A rural town. Two women. Armed men...Thinking that far, I began to get the picture.
I wasn’t the only one. Tang Sowol hastily pulled me into a corner to hide.
Then she whispered in a hushed voice,
"Brother Cheon, Brother Cheon. This is one of those situations, right?" "Yeah. High chance that it is."
Martial artists, by nature, tend to burn through time and money.
No matter how hard you train in martial arts, money doesn’t fall from the sky.
But martial artists are still people who live among others. Unless you sever ties with the secular world, you inevitably need money.
That’s why they usually take jobs where their martial arts are needed—like guards or problem-solvers—to earn income.
But the problem is that there aren’t many occasions where someone hires a martial artist for big money.
Famous sects don’t have to worry since people seek them out,
but the rest tend to be territorial, trying to guard their own earnings.
That’s why even some third-rate black-clad thugs strut around in their turf.
Add to that a bit of local xenophobia and a beautiful outsider woman… and you often get a “fun little incident” like this.
“An inn brawl between martial artists! I always thought that only happened in stories or novels, but it really does happen, Brother Cheon!”
“It’s actually quite common. It’s just that most of the time they back off when they see the Tang Clan’s robes, or if they still approach, I drive them away beforehand.”
Usually, just leaking a bit of killing intent is enough to make them turn tail.
“Aha, then this time...”
“Look at Senior Seorin’s cheerful smile. They’re not dangerous. She’s just enjoying herself.”
Judging from the ones already lying on the floor, they were barely between third- and second-rate fighters.
Just your average neighborhood thugs. Slightly stronger than common rabble.
Even though Seol Lihyang has the weakest martial prowess among us, she’s still a Peak Stage martial artist.
No way she’d lose to opponents like these. They probably let her handle it for the experience—and, it seemed, for the fun of it too.
Honestly, Tang Sowol and I weren’t all that different. Watching a fight is always thrilling.
As we quietly observed, one of the remaining thugs bit his lip and shouted to another black-clad man standing quietly at the back.
“Boss! Are you just going to stand there?! All our guys have been taken out!”
“Mm…”
A man with a deep scar running from his forehead down to his chin. He wore a long saber at his waist and nodded gravely.
That guy was probably the leader of the group that picked a fight with Seol Lihyang.
His appearance and demeanor made it clear he was seasoned in the martial world, but here and there, you could see some awkwardness.
A man of ordinary talent who likely failed to master proper martial arts and instead forged his own style through experience—he gave off exactly that impression.
His martial prowess was first-class. And at that level, he must’ve realized that Seol Lihyang was above him.
So why wasn’t he fleeing or apologizing? Simple—his underlings were watching, and no one had died yet. Some were unconscious or injured, but not fatally.
Once he finished weighing his odds, the man smirked.
“You’re not bad. But things have come this far, so don’t resent me when I collect blood compensation for my men.”
“What’s this? Getting scared? A minute ago you were all ‘woman this, woman that,’ but now you’re all talk?”
Leaning on one leg and tilting her head mockingly, Seol Lihyang shot back.
She had cleaned up a lot while staying with the Tang Clan,
but Seol Lihyang was still fundamentally someone from the streets.
Even for a short while, she lived among the bottom-feeders in the Hao Clan, so such posturing came out naturally.
The thug boss flinched at her unexpectedly more polished roughness and shook his head.
“Th-that wasn’t me, it was my little brother…”
“Hey. You think just because you’re whispering without a sound barrier in a not-so-big inn I wouldn’t hear you?
You’re the one who sent him. And if the younger brother screws up, shouldn’t the older take responsibility?”
The situation wasn’t going as he expected, so the boss clamped his mouth shut, sweating cold bullets.
Meanwhile, Seol Lihyang casually nudged one of the downed thugs with her foot and continued.
“Let’s see. What was it again… Right, ‘woman.’ If you’re from out of town, you should greet the locals first, pour them a drink, maybe take off a layer of clothing? If you’re going to act like that, why not go to a brothel instead of raising a ruckus at an inn?”
Her voice dropped an octave as she mimicked the thug mockingly.
Scattered chuckles erupted from around the inn, though one person—the boss—couldn’t laugh, busy rolling his eyes in panic.
Seol Lihyang didn’t stop.
“Was that it? Got kicked out of the brothels for having no money, an ugly face, and being terrible in bed?
Hmm. Looking at your face up close, I think I nailed it.”
“You bitch! So words won’t work on you!”
Despite his words, his expression said he really didn’t want to fight.
Still, he drew his saber, likely thinking he needed to at least pretend to make a stand in front of his men.
Take a few hits, get knocked down, and be done with it—better than sitting there and getting mocked further.
For a black-clad thug with mediocre skills but long survival, it wasn’t a bad decision.
But the problem was that Seol Lihyang wasn’t in the mood to let this one slide.
Maybe it was because he was the ringleader, or because unlike the others, he had drawn a weapon.
Whatever the case, it was clear Seol Lihyang had made up her mind.
Her smirking lips faded into a cold line. Her eyes turned icy.
Then, her lips parted.
This time, she wasn’t just using palm techniques and her whip—She was using her demonic sound arts in earnest.
Cold energy, carried on sound, coiled around the thug’s arm.
His swinging motion slowed and then froze—his clothes and part of his arm iced over.
“S-sorcery…”
“Humph.”
Seol Lihyang grabbed the side of the saber blade and let her hand, emitting white mist, flow with condensed internal energy into the weapon.
Chaeng!
The blade shattered.
The broken metal flew to the floor as icy mist burst out.
The thug, wide-eyed in disbelief at the sight of a Peak Stage martial artist, couldn’t even react before Seol Lihyang’s palm struck his abdomen.
Thud.
“Kuhugh!”
He collapsed, spitting blood. His arm was still frozen, and he fell in a twisted posture. She’d probably destroyed his dantian.
Seol Lihyang coolly looked down at the gasping, writhing man and gave a slight nod.
“What are you waiting for? Take them all and get out. Or do you want a turn too?”
“N-no, ma’am!”
The same man who was earlier yelling at the boss for not acting quickly began dragging the fallen thugs out, bowing repeatedly.
No one died, but this was effectively the end of their group.
They’d been completely crushed by one person, and their strongest member had his dantian destroyed. If his arm wasn’t defrosted in time, he’d have lasting frostbite too.
Satisfied with her own judgment, Seol Lihyang sat down with a self-satisfied snort.
Seo Mun-Hwarin giggled as she patted Seol Lihyang on the back.
I quietly stepped out from hiding and spoke.
“I don’t know what happened while I was gone, but haven’t your skills improved quite a bit? At least compared to last time, your internal energy control and power seem much stronger.”
“You were watching? Since when?”
“Since you yelled ‘Get in line if you wanna die.’ You’ve gotten calmer, but your mouth’s gotten sharper.”
“Ugh! That’s because I learned it from you, Cheon Hwi!”
“From me?”
I thought about it.
When I was with Seol Lihyang, I did tend to provoke my enemies, no matter how strong or old they were, if they were someone I had to cut down.
There was a resemblance.
“Right??”
Seol Lihyang beamed proudly. I chuckled and shook my head.
“But I did it all out of necessity.”
“Huh?”
It was true.
This was a psychological tactic. It often failed, but when it worked, it gave me a huge advantage.
It was especially effective on demonic cultists with past trauma.
For example, members of the Shadow Ghost Division or Jeok Yeonghu, the Bloodflame Fist Demon—their composure had cracked at the critical moment.
As I explained this, Seol Lihyang’s face turned red.
“I-I just did it because I was mad.”
“Well, no martial artist likes being looked down on.
But what you said earlier is what really interests me.”
“What part?”
I glanced between Seol Lihyang’s hand, still fanning her flushed face, and the broken saber embedded in the floor.
Finally realizing what I meant, she chuckled awkwardly and nodded.
“It’s nothing. The last time you saw my techniques was, what, a week ago? It’s not like I had some grand epiphany or anything.”
“Then?”
“It’s just… maybe because it’s winter, the air’s full of cold energy. I just borrowed it here and there and added it to my internal energy on the spot.”
So she was using natural energy to assist her own internal energy.
While it’s not rare for Peak Stage martial artists to use ambient qi without storing it in their dantian, the scale is usually minimal. At best, it’s “barely possible.”
That Seol Lihyang was able to wield it effectively was likely due to her talent and her Glacial True Qi, which was nearly divine.
Of course, I didn’t say that aloud.
Realizing such things too early might tempt her to take shortcuts. Right now, she needed to steadily build her foundation.
Seeing Seo Mun-Hwarin frantically shaking her head behind her, I gave a subtle nod and changed the subject.
“Either way, you handled that well. As a woman traveling through the martial world, you’ll run into these kinds of things eventually. Better to practice in advance.”
“I haven’t run into anything like that so far.”
“That’s because I’ve always handled it before you saw it.
Though… something’s still off.”
Right then, the food arrived.
I noticed a few dishes we didn’t order, which made me suspect those thugs were well-known local troublemakers.
That made it all the more puzzling.
As the cheerful server laid out the dishes with gratitude, I asked,
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes? What is it, sir? Ask away! I know all the rumors around here!”
“I heard Jihwahyeon is Jeomchang Sect’s territory. They even have a building nearby. So how come those thugs were causing trouble like that so openly?”
“You mean the Jeomchang Sect? Actually… they locked their gates and haven’t been active for quite some time now.
That’s just a rumor, but...”
The server lowered his voice and glanced around.
“They say the Jeomchang Sect is in such a bad state of internal conflict it’s practically split in two.”
Effectively closed off. Inner strife. And the Heaven-Slaughter Star.
Something serious was already unfolding.