Chapter 387

The Sapa warriors once again boldly cross the marketplace.

Three combat teams are here, and there’s as many lackeys from the Salt Workshop as well.

The differences between the orthodox sect and the Sapa sect are so numerous that I can’t list them all.

However, one major difference is that the orthodox sect is selective about who they accept, while the Sapa sect will take anyone with arms and legs. (Sometimes they even take in those without limbs!)

First off, the orthodox sect has issues with the leaking of martial arts secrets.

And there are plenty of cases where they’ve taken in someone with a rotten character, only to watch their faction get blown apart—so many that it’s almost a common pastime to bet on who gets wrecked next.

So, they tie families into their group as if they were one big happy family and emphasize the sense of belonging with a mindset of “I am the sect, I am the sect.”

This leads them to accept those with good character and talent as disciples, pouring resources into a select few to train them into masters.

But what about the Sapa?

For the Sapa, low-level warriors are seen as providing their name a favor.

Thus, even providing them with food and shelter is enough to gain gratitude, with most of the factions charging for that.

Meanwhile, the martial arts they teach are just twisted versions of low-tier stuff you could scrape up in the marketplace—essentially mid-tier nonsense.

If you want to learn good martial arts, you really have to prove yourself and catch the eyes of the higher-ups.

Or you might need to play nice with the older brothers, butter them up and bribe them with pretty flattery.

So, while it seems like a battle of elite formations and tactics, the Sapa sect isn’t exactly lacking in skilled fighters either.

They just have a sturdier backbone when it comes to the orthodox sect, but the Sapa has many legs.

You might ask if the orthodox sect isn’t weak, but the truth is, nearly all the factions with long histories are orthodox sects, which tells you how important that line is.

Whenever the Sapa guys expand a little, there’s bound to be internal strife, divisions, or heads rolling—nothing lasts long.

So, when the Sapa and the orthodox sect clash over control of the neighborhood market, the fight itself is a loss for the orthodox sect.

However, if there’s loss along the way for the Sapa, balance between factions gets shattered, executives could change, and even the dominance of their leader starts to wobble.

That’s why the Sapa doesn’t usually pick fights unless they have to.

What’s the use in taking over a territory, only to hand it over to some shady character later? They’re more about maintaining status than ownership.

Yet, the Sapa gang has aggressively supported with three combat teams this time.

Two white-tier teams and one black-tier team—that’s some serious muscle to rival the Gye-rim Sword Faction.

Plus, they’ve got a bunch of low-level lackeys from the Salt Workshop acting as fodder who wouldn’t mind taking a hit or two if it means getting a meal.

For this reason, a heavy tension hung over the orthodox warriors gathered at Jangsan Manor.

Even though they had more masters on their side, it made one wonder how many of them would actually survive the fray.

This is the depth of the orthodox sect’s influence.

Despite being clearly outnumbered, dark expressions still marred their faces—where could they run to after leaving home and family behind?

In the Sapa, you’d witness the miraculous spectacle of their ranks thinning out in real-time.

When sinking aboard a ship, it’s the Sapa mentality to shout, “Abandon ship!”

And so, at the wide-open gate of Jangsan Manor, Sect Leader Kang Su-yang and Officer Yo Hwan-cheol exchange glances from a distance.

For reasons unknown, there seems to be an unwritten rule during battle in the Central Plain that someone has to step up and talk before the actual clash goes down.

It harks back to the times when things were a lot more primitive than now—a tradition passed down since ancient days.

It’s a time to assert dominance through speech.

How astounding that it resonates with the culture of the black folks from the far west, who have their own way of throwing shade in rhythm.

It’s all because the roots of humankind share a common origin.

They’re influenced by the culture of the Great Han people, an ancient civilization lasting back to before the universe was born.

This truth is written, apparently, on the watermelons too, if you’re to believe certain dimwits who say they still exist in Qing’s hometown.

Anyway, one of the enduring maxims, “Isn’t it nice having three fathers?” is truly a touching speech that stirs the heart, right before battle.

“Winning is a must!”

Just as Yo Hwan-cheol is about to speak, Kang Su-yang interrupts.

“The salt merchant has come. But, I already have plenty of salt in my warehouse, so you can go back.”

Kang Su-yang makes the first move.

The impact is immense!

“Who dares call me a lowly salt merchant?!”

“Then if you’re not a salt merchant, what are you?”

“I am Yo Hwan-cheol, the owner of the Great Yoga Salt Workshop!”

“Isn’t a salt workshop a place for making salt? If you’re not a salt merchant, then what are you? I’m genuinely curious here.”

“I am…!”

Yo Hwan-cheol stutters, unable to continue.

Because, let’s face it, he *is* a salt merchant.

“And I didn’t say I was humble either. What difference does it make between the owner of an orthodox martial arts manor with a 300-year history and a mere salt merchant? That’s how I see it. At least, I do.”

That just means he thinks he’s the only one who feels that way.

Everyone else knows he’s just a lowly salt merchant.

Wow, this guy speaks so well.

Qing perked up her ears.

Wow! How can he spin that so elegantly?

If it were me, I’d be like, “Are you feeling lowly? Didn’t you inherit that lowly blood from your father? Or did it come from your mother? Or maybe both? Ah, one thing’s for sure: your old man messed up, so his kids will be lowly for generations.”

Such is the coarse mockery you might expect from a marketplace ruffian.

In fact, if the goal is to assert dominance, Qing’s remarks could hurt a thousand times more.

But such messy words also take down the speaker’s dignity.

Looks like being a sect leader is no easy feat.

I couldn’t pull off something like that.

Thus, Qing listens attentively with a posture of learning.

Hidden behind the Sapa warriors, across the street from Jangsan Manor’s main gate.

Qing was tasked with ambushing from the rear.

There are plenty of sticky traps behind the wall meant for anyone trying to climb over, while the ones entering through the main gate are lured into a perfect trap.

Plus, Qing adamantly claimed she could take care of herself, planning to strike the rear as soon as the fighting erupted.

But can we really assign such a risky job to Qing, the guest of the Martial Alliance?

But what if it’s not risky?

“Why can’t we just have a good fight without stepping on each other’s toes beforehand?”

“Well, if I can get a little verbal jab in to boost morale, that’s a huge win, right?”

“But it seems like you’re losing right now?”

“Yeah, but the finesse of the spoken word isn’t known yet, so that salt merchant must’ve had some prepared dialogue as well. Things like, ‘Surrender now’ or ‘If you come through my legs, I’ll let the rest of you go.’”

“How childish, these men.”

The woman shaking her head is Courtesan Chang, a supreme martial artist.

“Ha, so this is all about a turf war? How childish. Oh dear, that wasn’t something meant for you, Young Lady. An old fool like me simply misspoke.”

The suddenly humble old man is Old Dog—somewhat out of the loop.

The retainer always picking things up to offer is Gakdawi, also a supreme martial artist, while the literate poet dressed like a scholar is still another supreme.

They are guests sent by Jayu as well.

Together with Qing, that makes for a fearsome crew of six: one supreme, four supreme martial artists, and one peak-level leech.

At this point, it’s more accurate to call them the main force rather than a separate group.

“Looks like the Salt Workshop Chief is stepping back for someone else. It appears this will last a while—heh heh, Young Lady, aren’t you curious about those precious jade words? I have here some pickled plum blossoms.”

“Wow, what is this? I’ll enjoy this treat!”

“No, no, it was just something I found while passing by. Hehe.”

At this, Qing paused, her slender fingers hovering over the jar for a moment.

What’s this? Did he say it just fell on the street?

“Oh, it was just lying there in a jar.”

“Seriously, where exactly do you find these things?”

“That Gakdawi is at it again with the bribery…”

Courtesan Chang mumbled.

Of course, Qing couldn’t exactly refuse something that was genuinely found on the ground.

As Qing giggled and reached out, another finger already snatched the round fruit of the plum blossom.

It was Na Yang-gyeol, the leech following Qing.

“Here, my bear! Ah, will you give it to me?”

“I have hands too, you know?”

“But my bear’s beautiful fingers will get dirty, won’t they? Those fingers are a treasure, a national treasure. I must protect them.”

“Aww.”

“Good. Enjoy it. Eek!”

Na Yang-gyeol yanked back his finger with a scream.

Of course, pretending to feed someone only to pull it back before it reaches their mouth is something you just have to bite back at!

“What’s this, you’re pulling a prank again?”

“Look! That’s a bear bite mark! You wanted to leave a mark on me, huh?”

“Try that again! After all, I’m the master of finger techniques, so losing one won’t matter, right?”

“That shouldn’t be a problem. Each time I see a cut-off finger, I’d remember my bear and feel a rush of excitement!”

As Qing chewed on the blissfully sweet pickled plum blossoms, she awaited the dominance display to end.

Then, suddenly—

“No more chit-chat! Attack!”

With that, the Salt Workshop warriors shouted and rushed forward, leading the charge.

They’re nothing more than third-rate fighters.

They can barely scale a wall that doesn’t even reach a foot high, straining as they cling to it while hesitating to storm the main gate, resulting in a bunch stuck to the walls.

Those who accidentally get shoved through the main gate end up splendidly face-planting!

“It’s a complete mess! A total wreck!”

What a wreck! They’re just tossing stones!

But one can’t distinguish between a third-rate fighter hurling stones and a master doing the same.

It’s like how you can’t tell Qing’s chopsticks from a downpour when they’re in motion.

“Can’t watch this anymore, this is pathetic!”

And now, the Black Tiger Brigade warriors rushed in with a yell.

They dashed forward with all their might, tossing the Salt Workshop lackeys off the walls like nothing.

Thus, the few Sapa warriors who barely make it over the wall are expressing their gratitude with terrified screams as they almost choke!

Setting up obstacles at the base of the wall is common knowledge in manor defense!

Only then do the Black Tiger Brigade warriors leap over the wall, landing on the sprawled bodies of the Salt Workshop warriors below while hoisting their weapons.

Since ancient times, pushing people into obstacles has been the best method for overcoming challenges!

“Third squad!”

With the infamous battle cry of self-proclaimed strategist Jo Kwang-ang, Qing leaped to her feet as well.

“Alright, here we go!”

As she kicked through the curtain of the marketplace, dust the color of night clouds erupted, and her footprints sank deep into the ground.

Maybe a little too much blood was seen last time she was trying to save Na Yang-gyeol, because her blood surged, and her body flared up in hot energy.

Qing shouted with a blooming smile!

“The Moonlight Sword is thirsty! So let it weep! Hell Beasts shall feast!”

The hefty blade of the Moonlight Sword stacked with sunset-lit sword aura.

As a Sapa warrior turned to look back at the woman’s voice, the blade of sword aura pierced straight through his neck.

Utilizing inertia, the Sapa warrior’s head swung around and plopped to the ground.

Yes, this is what I’m living for!

A beat late, the royal guests joined in.

Included among them is a lovely leech from the Cheonhwa Sanctuary who came to support Qing.

The white-tier combat team is largely comprised of top-tier warriors.

But among Qing’s supporting group, Na Yang-gyeol actually lacks prowess.

Her capture nets and iron chains for restraining masters have already been allocated to front-line troops.

In an instant, the blood-red flames surged up.

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