Reincarnated Sword Ghost

Chapter 79 : Proposal

Proposal

"......"

Regardless of the level of martial prowess they possessed, the bandits here were all of a savage disposition—not inferior to anyone in terms of brutality.

Even if they were the kind who shared neither loyalty nor affection, they had just witnessed a comrade's head lopped off right before their eyes.

It would be no wonder if they erupted in a frenzy and started slashing wildly at any moment.

Yet, not a single one among them stepped forward.

'Insane...'

Zhang Hwan, who was effectively the deputy stronghold lord of this as-yet-unnamed mountain stronghold, couldn't bring himself to speak.

It was a scene so unbelievable that even seeing it up close, he could hardly accept it.

'What sort of monster is that?'

Zhang Hwan unconsciously swallowed dryly.

There were only four of them; the one at the very front had swung his sword and decapitated a man as if it were nothing—even facing dozens of enemies.

The martial world was full of lunatics who left caution behind.

People who had come to reign as superhumans among the common folk often wound up fooling themselves into thinking they were true masters.

However, no matter how reckless one was, very few would brandish a sword so calmly before a group of armed men.

There was a limit to boldness—this was sheer madness.

Yet what had truly frozen Zhang Hwan was not merely that mad, reckless demeanor.

'What in the world was that sword just now?'

Everyone here belonged to the martial world.

No matter what weapon they held, they were all ones who harbored a measure of internal energy in their dantian.

For such martial artists, the most terrifying moment was precisely now.

A sword swung right before their noses.

Yet up until the decapitated man's head hit the ground, no one had been able to witness even a trace of the sword's path.

The sword was already back in its sheath.

No movement of drawing or swinging the blade had been visible.

The implication was clear: this foe could claim their lives at will.

That was why every bandit, including himself, was frozen in place.

'The ones behind him are the same.'

Even with a comrade committing such a flagrant act right in front of them, not one showed any sign of surprise.

One, in particular, was idly toying with the sword guard, his face feigning boredom—as if he wished a fight would just break out already.

It was clear even at a glance that this was not an act.

It meant they had experienced such sword strikes often—as a part of daily life.

At that moment, a voice from beside him jolted Zhang Hwan from his thoughts.

"Zhang Hwan."

"...?"

"What are you doing? Why so silent?"

"Ah..."

Zhang Hwan unconsciously heaved a short breath.

He had momentarily forgotten who was at his side.

'The stronghold lord is here.'

The instant he realized the stronghold lord was beside him, his heart, which had frozen in terror, instantly regained its calm.

Just knowing that fact alone was enough—such was the caliber of the man beside him.

Among the Seventy-Two Strongholds of the Green Forest, the Black Dragon Stronghold was counted among the very top ten.

Calling the Black Dragon Stronghold a mere mountain stronghold felt almost disrespectful—so vast was their power.

They far surpassed most orthodox sects, amounting to a giant organization—so big, it was essentially a village in itself.

And the man beside him was the son of the Black Dragon Stronghold lord.

From a young age, he had consumed all sorts of elixirs, cultivating an unimaginably vast power in his dantian—earning renown throughout the Green Forest.

Even in the underworld, he was a rising star, commanding attention.

Among those promising talents, none surpassed Byuk Dae-gwang, who stood right beside him.

Even the Black Dragon Stronghold lord had been wary enough to send him away.

Zhang Hwan had always recognized that Byuk Dae-gwang was someone special.

He had even recognized this when others, dismissing Byuk Ja-yang's skills as meager, looked down on his son.

It wasn't that Zhang Hwan had any remarkable sense for reading energy or people.

Rather, he simply remembered the day when Byuk Ja-yang, wanting to instill courage in his son, orchestrated a particular event.

Byuk Ja-yang had three blindfolded martial artists of the orthodox sects brought in and made them kneel before his son, who was only fourteen.

He reasoned that by having his child kill people while young, he would later hesitate less when using a blade.

At that time, Byuk Dae-gwang approached the captives blade in hand.

Everybody expected to see the young boy falter—they usually did.

But Byuk Dae-gwang was different. It wasn't just that he swung his blade without hesitation.

He approached the kneeling men and, instead of using his blade, reached out with his hand.

Then, he personally removed their blindfolds, met their eyes, and smiled.

Looking directly into their terror-stricken pupils, he stabbed them again and again.

Was it because he was the son of a bandit? Nonsense.

Only those born with such a cruel disposition could do such things. That kind of brutality was innate.

Zhang Hwan realized the truth at that moment. More accurately, it was when he saw the boy's eyes.

'This boy will one day become a giant—equal to the King of the Green Forest.'

That was his gut feeling.

Before long, as he grew to full size, Byuk Dae-gwang truly became a monster.

His innate cruelty and martial arts—already of a transcendental degree for his age—captivated the bandits of Black Dragon Stronghold overnight.

Establishing his own faction within the stronghold, Byuk Dae-gwang was sent away—ostensibly to form his own mountain stronghold, but in reality, it was a kind of exile.

It was almost strange that he had not simply been killed outright.

In the underworld, anyone who threatened another's seat of power would be eliminated without hesitation.

That the stronghold lord of Black Dragon Stronghold had not killed Byuk Dae-gwang only served to mark him as someone even more special.

Zhang Hwan chose to follow Byuk Dae-gwang as he left.

He was certain the man would one day become a great power.

That conviction remained unchanged to this day.

Zhang Hwan gazed at the youth before him.

A lad with the delicate appearance of one raised in some upright martial clan.

'This one is nothing compared to the stronghold lord.'

His move had seemed extraordinary, yes.

But that was only from the standpoint of his own abilities.

From the perspective of the man sitting beside him, it would likely have seemed childish at best.

As expected, the stronghold lord looked on with a calm, indifferent expression.

That fact alone allowed Zhang Hwan's heart to settle.

In fact, it stirred up a newfound courage in him.

Zhang Hwan opened his mouth.

"A brat, barely weaned, losing his mind to throw his life away. I meant to treat you as a guest, but..."

Jeong-un silently turned his head, scanning the area.

He then looked back at Zhang Hwan and replied.

"And you expect me to believe you'd treat anyone as a guest with a drawn sword in your hand? I anticipated your ignorance, but not to this extent."

"You little bastard!"

"Stop wagging your tongue and pick up your sword instead. That suits you lot better."

Zhang Hwan was about to shout back when he flinched.

Right beside him, Byuk Dae-gwang let out a snort.

"Hah."

Byuk Dae-gwang, lips twisted into a smirk, was staring at Jeong-un.

His eyes sparkled with interest. Then he leaned back and spoke.

"Your argument's amusing, too. Is it polite for a guest to swing their sword the moment they're invited in?"

"A bandit feigning innocence before me—now that's amusing."

"And you behead a man for such a minor slight? Aren't you lot supposed to stand for the righteous path?"

Jeong-un stared intently at Byuk Dae-gwang.

A man who lived by murder and pillage, preaching about human life? It was absurd.

But Byuk Dae-gwang clearly knew it was nonsense, and was mocking him all the more for it.

He had more wit than expected.

Jeong-un looked at him, curiosity in his voice.

"Can you read, by any chance?"

"What?"

"You seem a bit smarter than the usual lot."

"Pfft."

There was laughter from behind—Tang Yerin's laughter.

"......"

Byuk Dae-gwang's expression instantly stiffened, and a wavering energy like heat haze enveloped his body.

Regardless of his verbal skills, his very disposition was as savage as a true bandit's.

His underlings were the same, glaring at Jeong-un with eyes full of killing intent.

If given the order, they looked ready to leap at him and swing their blades without a moment's hesitation.

The paralysis from earlier had vanished—they seemed completely confident in their master's power.

Jeong-un scanned them, tilting his head.

"You're still staying put?"

"...?"

"Honestly, I'm starting to get bored. Why are you even holding those swords? Just charge already. This attempt at conversation is pathetic."

"That bastard!"

"It'd feel good to tear you apart!"

"Stronghold lord! Give the order!"

Their animated responses amused him. Shouted threats erupted from all around.

'Just moments ago, they couldn't even move a step...'

Jeong-un glared at the man seated in front of him.

Their newfound bravado stemmed from unwavering faith in their leader's martial skills.

The energy he exuded was no joke. If he'd trained in an orthodox sect, he'd have been called a prodigy more than once.

'I can't let my guard down.'

Ssssshing.

Jeong-un drew his sword. The number of enemies didn't even merit counting.

Just a bunch who knew how to circulate internal energy and swing a sword—nothing more.

Barely one among them even knew the meaning of true martial arts, and he was of a pitiful standard.

But their leader was different. Was it because he was the stronghold lord?

He was on a whole other level from those around him. The subtle pressure he emitted felt unfathomably deep.

Judging by internal energy alone, he might be above Jeong-un himself.

The realm of martial attainment he'd reached was no small thing.

As Jeong-un drew his sword, the air in the hall tightened in an instant.

He could see the bandits' muscles tensing all around, ready to pounce.

Jeong-un took in every twitch of movement, ready to react the moment any of them flinched.

He could feel, even at his back, his allies gathering their energy.

They, too, sensed a bloodbath approaching.

'Four in front.'

He gauged the number he could cut down in a single instant.

He planned to cleave through those four, then immediately rush the one seated in the chair.

'If I kill the leader, the fight becomes much easier.'

These men placed near-absolute faith in their stronghold lord.

If he died, the shock would be tremendous—they might even lose all will to fight.

Just then—

Bang!

A surge of vital ki surged forward like a wave.

The man in the chair had unleashed his cultivated power.

Even his hair frayed ever so slightly under the current—a vivid force so intense it stirred the air itself.

"Enough."

His voice, deep and steady now, was laced with internal energy.

Still, there was no intent to fight just yet.

Staying seated in his chair was evidence enough.

"Put away your sword. I really did invite you as guests."

"...?"

"Well, perhaps not to a feast. More accurately, I want to propose a deal."

"A deal?"

Jeong-un questioned back, sword still in hand.

A deal proposed by a bandit? The notion was so bizarre, he could only let out a mirthless laugh.

He watched as the man slowly rose from his seat.

"The man you killed just now was the one who was to name our mountain stronghold. The stronghold's name carries significant weight over its fate. You've just ruined that crucial task."

"What fate, seriously."

The reply came from behind Jeong-un—it was Baek Il-gang.

Grinning broadly, he addressed Byuk Dae-gwang.

"Whatever. Right, you lot would have just chosen some ridiculous name—Dragon this, tiger that, something trite and predictable. If you're really so upset, I'll name it for you. Not that today's name will matter after tonight, anyway."

It was an insulting statement, but Byuk Dae-gwang's expression didn't change in the slightest.

As if he thought it wasn't even worth listening to, he focused only on Jeong-un with burning intensity.

"I hear you came from the Heavenly Martial Hall. That makes you under the Murim Alliance, correct? We have ties with the Green Forest. We don't wish to make enemies of your lot."

"...?"

"If you leave the merchant caravan of your village unmolested, then pay a toll—thirty percent of the caravan profits—that will suffice for us."

He pointed at the ground.

It was where Yang Gae's bleeding head still lay.

"I'll let you off for killing one of my trusted men. Once again, he was the one tasked with giving this stronghold its name, an important duty—"

Swick!

At that instant, a white flash cut through the air again.

Another head tumbled to the ground, blood spraying.

All anyone could do was dumbly follow its path with their eyes.

Jeong-un gazed at Byuk Dae-gwang, and parted his lips.

"Is your deal still valid now?"