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“How dare you oppose the Tyrant Fist Sect!” he said, thrusting a spear through the hearts of two enemy warriors and then tossing them aside like skewered meat.

Blood splattered all over the ground. Someone screamed, but Kang Joo-Myung ignored them. He, and the rest of the Blizzard Squad, had a mission to complete – To track down and exterminate all of the Tyrant Fist Sect’s enemies.

For once, he didn’t have to care about how many people died in the process, or if any civilians got caught up in the fighting. It was great. There didn’t exist a single martial artist who didn’t suffer from the urge to show off their power and prove their strength, and he was no exception. It was a natural result of learning how to fight.

“AHHHHH!”

Several more people died, caught in his spear technique. Some of them were enemies trying to protect Yoon Moon-Cheon, but the others were simply unfortunate civilians who happened to be nearby.

“KYAAAAA!”

A few witnesses fell to their knees and shit their pants. They had never seen such a grisly sight in their lives and could only stare blankly at Kang Joo-Myung, aghast at his violence and cruelty.

Kang Joo-Myung grinned happily at them. As expected, he was on a different level from these weaklings. The fear on their faces as they looked at him stoked his sense of superiority.

“Yes, continue looking at me like that. That look suits pathetic bugs like you perfectly. Hahaha!”

“You’re crazy!” shouted one of the warriors protecting Yoon Moon-Cheon. The sight of Kang Joo-Myung going berserk made even them hesitate. Never in their wildest dreams had they imagined that the Tyrant Fist Sect would indiscriminately attack everyone, including innocent civilians, just to hunt all of them down.

The Blizzard Squad was indeed strong. However, the traits that really made them fearsome were their persistence and ruthlessness.

It wasn’t hard to see why the Tyrant Fist Sect valued their continued existence. They were essential not only for killing the enemy, but for maintaining discipline within the Sect.

“Heehee! Now, shall we get things started?” Kang Joo-Myung laughed and flipped over one of his spears.

CLICK!

With the sound of metal interlocking, the two short spears combined into one long double-ended spear. Kang Joo-Myung then leapt forward, swinging his weapon like a maniac. Anyone in his path was sliced horizontally in half, splashing blood and spilling intestines all over. The agonizing screams of his victims, who hadn’t died immediately, reverberated through the streets.

SWOOSH!

Suddenly, a huge sky piercer halberd tore through the air toward Kang Joo-Myung, forcing him to block the attack with his long spear.

CLANG!

“Gah!”

The impact of the blow pushed Kang Joo-Myung backward and caused blood to trickle down from his lips. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and glared at the new arrival, asking, “Who are you?”

“Kukuku! I’m a nutcase, same as you,” Nam Goon-Wi replied, a faint smile on his face. In his hands, he held a gigantic sky piercer halberd. Perhaps because it had been repaired in a hurry, the traces of having previously been split in half by Jin Mu-Won were still visible on the shaft.

Kang Joo-Myung eyed Nam Goon-Wi cautiously. His instincts told him that Nam Goon-Wi was a dangerous man.

“I asked you who you were.”

“Is that important? Heehee!”

“I see. You’re right, it doesn’t matter at all.”

Kang Joo-Myung pointed his spear at Nam Goon-Wi. The man was right; it didn’t matter where he came from, only that they were enemies, and that they were about to cross swords in a life-or-death match.

Might was right, after all, and history was written by the victors.

“YAAAAH!” Kang Joo-Myung roared, thrusting his spear forward like a needle threading through air, creating a void in its path.

“Hahaha! Good one!” Nam Goon-Wi chuckled, feeling his hands tremble from meeting the force of Kang Joo-Myung’s attack.

He recalled what Geum Dan-Yeop had told him right before he left.

Nam Goon-Wi’s eyes glistened with the light of madness.

“Like you said, I will paint this city red with blood. Heeheehee!”

ROAR!

He swung his sky piercer halberd and drew a flaming dragon with his qi. That was the form of his technique, the True Blazing Halberd of the Fire Dragon (火龍眞炎戟).

This is it, the unfolding of the final battle!

BOOM! CRASH!

The fire dragon swallowed Kang Joo-Myung whole, but it didn’t stop there. It went on and destroyed several buildings behind the Tyrant Fist Sect warrior.

“UGHAAAAAAH!” Kang Joo-Myung’s shriek of pain rattled the city.

“Hahaha!” Nam Goon-Wi looked around laughing, his eyes still shining with excitement.

All around him, the Blizzard Squad members who had been chasing Yoon Moon-Cheon could be seen fighting with the red armored warriors of the Crimson Ghost Corps.

The screams of people in pain rang out over and over in a cacophony that disturbed the silence of the night. Civilian housing was either burning or lay in ruins, and the commonfolk desperately ran away from the city, trying their hardest to avoid anyone who looked like a warrior.

However, even then, countless civilians were killed by stray blows from martial artists who couldn’t care less about them.

It was a clash between two groups of savage lunatics.

“How did things end up like this?” Cheong-In gasped, forcing his trembling legs to move. Although he was an experienced Black Moon agent who had traveled all over the world, this was his first time in hell. Children who had lost their parents were bawling their eyes out, and people who had been mauled by stray sword chi lay on the ground, slowly bleeding to death.

“This is too cruel,” Kwak Moon-Jung whispered, tears flowing down his cheeks. He had chosen to follow Jin Mu-Won in order to grow into a strong-hearted warrior, but the determination in his adolescent heart was crumbling in the face of this appalling scene.

Something dark flickered in Jin Mu-Won’s eyes. Unlike the other two, he appeared calm on the surface, but in truth, his emotions were raging unchecked.

Most of the people living in Yuxi were ordinary civilians who had never learned any martial arts. Even though their lives occasionally overlapped with gangho people, martial artists and civilians basically lived in two different worlds.

Yet now, these ordinary folk’s lives were falling apart because of martial artists.

They had lost their homes, their lives, their families, and their wills to live.

Despite their lives being threatened, these people had nowhere to go besides the city they lived in. All the survivors could do was randomly wander around the remains of their homes.

The lost looks on their faces resonated strongly with Jin Mu-Won, reminding him of a time long past. He followed the trail of the battle, but the blood on the streets felt like shackles on his feet, weighing down his every footstep.

Is this really the work of murim warriors? It’s a complete violation of gangho etiquette!

Even during the war with the Silent Night where there were numerous casualties, there was an implicit agreement between both sides to avoid fighting near places where civilians lived. As a result, most of the people who died were murim warriors, and as everyone was fighting for their ideals, no one thought of these deaths as unjust.

What was happening now was the very opposite of that.

As the three got closer to the central battleground, the extent of destruction worsened significantly. Unable to stomach the nightmarish scene, Cheong-In and Kwak Moon-Jung tried their hardest not to look around.

However, they were suddenly accosted by a group of men.

“Who are you people?” one of the men asked. He and the other warriors with him belonged to the Tyrant Fist Sect, and their hands were all soaked in blood.

Jin Mu-Won examined the man’s face closely and asked back, “And who are you people?”

“……”

“You’re not going to answer that, huh. Then, are you the ones behind all this?”

“We’re the ones asking questions here.”

“Are you so ashamed of your deeds that you can’t even tell me who you are?”

Jin Mu-Won’s insult must have hit a nerve, because the men were livid.

“You, how dare you insult the Tyrant Fist Sect!”

Jin Mu-Won narrowed his eyes and nodded, saying, “I knew it. You guys belong to the Tyrant Fist Sect.”

The men flinched. Jin Mu-Won had tricked them into revealing their affiliation. Still, now that the truth was out, they needed to deal with it. They closed in on Jin Mu-Won, saying, “You know too much already.”

Although these men were unarmed, the auras radiating from their bodies weren’t trivial.

Jin Mu-Won glanced at their callused hands and noticed cracks running through them like the shell of a turtle and blue-stained nails. Those were the hallmarks of the Blue Stained Sun Moon Fist (靑文日月拳), one of the martial arts belonging to the Northern Army as well as the only martial art in the world that turned one’s nails blue.

The Blue Stained Sun Moon Fist was created during the height of the war with the Silent Night for the sole purpose of creating experts quickly and efficiently. To learn it, one not only needed the meditation method, but also a special medicine made up of several dozen different poisons. This medicine would be absorbed through the skin of a practitioner’s hands, causing their fists to become harder than steel.

Unfortunately, although the Blue Stained Sun Moon Fist gave one immense strength on the battlefield, it possessed a fatal flaw. As time passed, the toxins absorbed into the hands would gradually diffuse into the brain, driving the practitioner insane or making them invalid.

In the end, there were only two possible endings for practitioners of the martial art: 1) death on the battlefield, or 2) death by mental degeneration.

Furthermore, if simply going insane wasn’t bad enough, quite a number of these crazed people had even wound up indiscriminately slaughtering their own comrades. For that reason, the Northern Army had first tried to refine the Blue Stained Sun Moon Fist and remove its flaws, but they eventually gave up and deemed it a forbidden art. As such, it soon faded into obscurity.

Was there really a need to go to such lengths to satisfy your ambition, Uncle?

Jin Mu-Won knew that Jo Cheon-Woo understood full well the side effects of the Blue Stained Sun Moon Fist. However, he had still chosen to teach it to his subordinates. That could only mean that all the man cared about was making a lot of effective killing machines.

“Die, punk!”

The Tyrant Fist Sect warriors charged forward, splitting themselves up into three groups to attack Jin Mu-Won, Cheong-In and Kwak Moon-Jung.

“Damn it!” Cheong-In cursed, drawing his dagger to defend himself. Similarly, Kwak Moon-Jung pulled out his greatsword, Crimson Fang.

CLANG! BAM!

The two’s steel weapons collided with the warriors’ fists, sending sparks flying as if those hands were made of metal rather than flesh and blood.

At the same time, three of the warriors set Jin Mu-Won as their target.

WHOOSH!

A flurry of fists appeared in front of Jin Mu-Won, every single one of them aimed at his vitals. It was only the beginning of the fight, but the warriors were already going all out and using their most powerful techniques.

For the first time, Jin Mu-Won’s eyes flashed with killing intent. No matter how hard he tried to suppress his resentment and pretended to be nonchalant, there was only so much he could do to quell the wrath and indignation that had built up over the years.

Those were the chains of hatred that he needed to break free from.

“I wonder if this is fate?”

“Are you so scared that you’re talking nonsense, brat?” one of the warrior’s laughed.

Jin Mu-Won tightened his grip on Snow Flower. These people have no pride or honor.

As the Tyrant Fist Sect warriors’ fists crashed down upon him like a tsunami, Snow Flower drew a graceful arc in the air.

SCREEEE!

“……”

And then there was silence.

Even the Tyrant Fist Sect warriors attacking Cheong-In and Kwak Moon-Jung had frozen in their footsteps, blinking stupidly. For some reason, they felt unsettled.

KA-CHINK!

Jin Mu-Won sheathed Snow Flower and casually strode between the warriors who had attacked him.

THUD! THUNK! CRASH!

One by one, the warriors collapsed like flies. It was surreal. Seeing their comrades fall so easily in battle, the other Tyrant Fist Sect warriors unconsciously held their breaths in dread.

A new storm had begun to rage through the battlefield.

A storm named Jin Mu-Won.