Chapter 15 – Kneel
In novels, there’s a certain kind of person who isn’t exactly scary but is incredibly annoying—the type who walks away saying, “You’ll regret this.”
The group storming up the stairs right now were exactly that type.
Since they were from Seo In-geol’s family, they were probably people from the Seo Clan.
One, two, three... ten of them. They really brought a whole crowd.
‘Haa…’
I should’ve known when they left saying they’d be back.
But that wasn’t all.
Thud thud thud!
Another loud commotion rang out as yet another group came noisily up the stairs.
Seeing the middle-aged man in front, the Seo Clan’s people briefly looked pleased.
“Ah, if it isn’t the head of the Baek family.”
“Master Seo?”
“What brings you here?”
In response to the Seo Clan master, the head of the Baek family spoke, his beard trembling with anger.
“I heard that a shameless scoundrel who dared harass the precious jewel of our Baek family is here… Sohyang, is that the man?”
“Yes. He’s the one who hurt Young Master Seo and dared to insult me.”
I barely held back a laugh.
It was absurd. Not because of them, but because of this world inside Return of the Murim. From the very start, this world had faithfully followed every single cliché I’d ever thought, “No way that would actually happen.”
“These days, it’s trendy to just smash everything to pieces, but…”
The problem is, I can’t act recklessly in the territory of the orthodox sects.
It’s not the Seo or Baek families that are the real issue. It’s the Kunlun Sect behind them. And the Murim Alliance.
In fact, Tak Horak looked like he was about to jump up shouting, “Do you know who this person is?!”
But he barely held himself back. From Saweol’s lip movement, it seemed she had told him through sound transmission not to act rashly.
Then, with his face still full of rage, the Baek family head spoke.
“I heard this brat is no ordinary fool, so I’ve specially brought in guests residing with our family.”
“Guests? Don’t tell me... you mean the Three Heroes of Qinghai?”
“That’s right. Heroes, please come up.”
The moment he finished speaking, three men climbed up the stairs as if they had been waiting.
Each wielded a different weapon—sword, saber, spear—and all three looked distinctive.
They were twice my size and clearly trained more in external energy than internal.
Everyone except my group gasped in admiration at their appearance.
“The Three Heroes of Qinghai!”
“I heard the eldest is on the verge of reaching the Peak realm!”
“The other two are seasoned First-rate masters. Didn’t they even defeat the supreme demonic master called the Peerless Saber Rogue recently?”
“The Baek family’s really sharpening their blades for their daughter.”
Unprompted admiration, laced with needless explanation.
Of course, I had no idea who these people were.
As a long-time fan of Return of the Murim, I remembered nearly every major character and their titles.
But these guys? Nothing.
‘Hey, Skybreaker, ever heard of the Three Heroes of Qinghai?’
[Never heard of such nobodies.]
“Yeah, I figured.”
There’s usually a pattern to martial world titles.
First, the shorter the title, the stronger they are. Names like Heavenly Demon and Sword Saint come to mind.
Second, if the title includes a region, it means they’re extras.
It implies they’re only known locally.
Third, people who group up are weak.
Whether it’s the Three Swordsmen, Twin Devils, or Seven Heroes—anyone who moves in a pack is usually weak.
The Three Heroes of Qinghai hit every rule.
Their name implied they stuck together and only operated around Qinghai Province, maybe somewhere like Taeryeong-hyeon.
They might show off there, but if they dared strut around Seonyeong with that attitude, they’d get their heads smashed by the Kunlun Sect.
The eldest, wielding a sword, strutted up to me and spoke.
“So you’re the one who dared to touch the Baek family’s daughter?”
With his greasy goat-like beard, he tried to speak with gravity.
Beside him, the second and third heroes crossed their arms, smirking slyly.
To me, their smiles looked sleazy, but the Seo and Baek family goons nodded in admiration, as if reassured.
I drew up internal energy through my meridians.
The domineering and grand force of the Heavenly Demon Divine Art surged upward.
My vision rapidly sharpened and everything slowed down.
No exaggeration—I could even see a bird flying rapidly in the distance through the gap in the open window.
...But wait.
That’s not a bird, is it?
A good idea struck me.
I turned my gaze toward the eldest hero.
My eyes, brimming with force, made him hesitate for a moment—
“Hahp—!”
He raised his sword to block and let out a kiai.
A wave of force spread, making his robe flutter. He’d dispersed my pressure using his ki shout.
“They said you used sorcery, and it seems it’s true—you’re pulling vile tricks!”
Usually, when someone is hit with my pressure, they at least turn pale or stumble backward.
But he blocked it.
It was the first time since I was dragged into this world.
I realized the reason immediately.
Direction.
Until now, I had set up various cues and direction to amplify my presence.
By pretending to be weak, I would then flip expectations to trick opponents into believing I was a hidden master.
But this time, the situation favored them, and they already assumed I was at least a Peak-level master.
Without direction, half of acting, my pressure had no effect.
No wonder it didn’t work.
“I need to awaken, don’t I.”
My goal was to survive in this insane, cliché-ridden wuxia world.
To do that, I needed to become more proactive and craft better setups.
Especially if I had to return to the cult obsessed with fighting and challenges.
The eldest reached for his sword hilt and said,
“In the martial world, if you use your tongue carelessly, you lose it. If you move your arm recklessly, it gets cut off. Today, I’ll take your tongue and your arm.”
They really were insane.
This was Taeryeong-hyeon, territory of the Kunlun Sect—a major orthodox sect with full control over Qinghai.
Even if these guys were technically orthodox themselves, they had no shame making such savage threats here.
—Master, what should we do?
—Let me kill them all.
The atmosphere was growing tense, and Saweol and Tak Horak sent me sound transmissions.
I wanted to reply, but unfortunately, sound transmission required internal energy manipulation—only usable by First-rate martial artists or above.
As a Second-rate due to my blocked meridians, I couldn’t use it.
All I could do was shake my head.
Another problem I needed to solve soon.
It would be strange if a supposed Transcendent Peak master couldn’t use sound transmission.
Though some items might help fake it.
“Quietly hand over your tongue and arm.”
The reason my pressure (and bluff) didn’t work was because I hadn’t set up the proper direction.
If I just changed that direction, surely it would work again.
‘Skybreaker, can you block his first strike?’
[If his sword doesn’t carry sword energy, yes.]
‘Good.’
[But what about after the first strike?]
“I’ve got a plan...”
I placed the Skybreaker Sword on the table.
Then I casually picked it up with one hand, crossed my legs, and said,
“Let’s count to ten.”
“What?”
“Kneel and beg for forgiveness within ten seconds. If you do, I’ll spare your life.”
“Pfft, kuhahaha!”
“Psycho.”
The eldest hero clutched his head and burst into laughter.
The other two chuckled mockingly behind him.
“Senior Brother, this guy’s completely insane, isn’t he?”
“Isn’t that why he’s so calm in front of the Three Heroes of Qinghai?”
“Seven.”
“…He’s serious, isn’t he?”
The youngest, holding a spear, spoke.
The smiles slowly faded from the eldest and second hero’s faces.
“Nine.”
“You crazy bastard!”
The eldest drew his sword.
“Eight.”
He strode toward me.
Tak Horak and Saweol flinched.
“Five.”
“Insane.”
“Four.”
“I’ll cut off your head entirely!”
“One.”
His sword flew toward my neck.
With my enhanced dynamic vision from the internal energy, I could see its entire path.
I pressed the guard of the Skybreaker Sword with a finger.
Sswaeeek!
Kkakang–!
The unsheathed Skybreaker Sword collided with the eldest’s blade, sending sparks flying.
From the outside, it must’ve looked like I blocked a fully powered strike with a mere finger flick.
They’d think I used massive internal force to withstand it.
“What the—?!”
His shock was short-lived. He withdrew his sword to strike again.
But then—
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
With a mighty shout, someone flew in through the open window.
It was Yun Yeopja.
What I’d thought was a bird earlier was actually him using Kunlun’s Eight Forms of the Cloud Dragon.
Since I’d seen him approaching, I’d only been stalling for time.
‘Better than risking Saweol or Tak Horak and getting exposed, right?’
“G-Kunlun...?!”
“Yun Yeopja!”
The lackeys who recognized him immediately turned pale.
But then, as if seizing the opportunity, they approached him.
“Master! Just in time. That wicked man over there used sorcery to torment my son!”
“He also insulted my daughter!”
“Exactly! He’s clearly a servant of the Demon Cult!”
“As a Kunlun disciple, surely you won’t let this slide, right?”
Oblivious to Yun Yeopja’s increasingly furrowed brow, they rambled on.
“Hoo—”
He finally sighed. Like a true heir of an orthodox sect, he controlled his boiling blood with his breath.
Then, with his tone calm but firm, he spoke.
“Do you realize the man you’re trying to oppress is my guest?”
At those words, the lackeys fell silent. They looked back and forth between me and Yun Yeopja.
“W-What? Him—no, that person is your guest?”
They finally grasped the situation, and their faces turned pale.
No matter how powerful the Seo or Baek families might be in Taeryeong-hyeon, Kunlun was one of the great sects with influence across Qinghai Province—and one of the Nine Great Sects.
To harass a guest of such a sect was practically suicide.
Especially the eldest hero, who had actually raised a sword. He turned completely ashen, unable to even think of sheathing his weapon.
“To accuse a guest of Kunlun’s disciple Yun Yeopja of being a demonic cultist and attacking him—do you realize this is an insult to Kunlun itself? This cannot go unpunished.”
At Yun Yeopja’s frosty, autumn-wind-like voice, everyone began to tremble.
I let out a small laugh and said,
“Now then, whose tongue and arm should be cut off?”
“T-That is... well...”
I stood up and addressed Yun Yeopja.
“Let’s stop here.”
“Kim Dowoo!”
Dowoo—meaning a companion who walks the path of Dao.
A heavy title, usually reserved for renowned masters.
“Dowoo is far too grand for me.”
“Then I’ll call you Young Hero. Are you unharmed, young hero?”
“I’m fine.”
“I was late and failed in my duty. So, I will leave their punishment to you.”
Strictly speaking, Yun Yeopja’s words could be seen as arrogant.
But given Kunlun’s standing, it was expected.
Everyone now stared at me in fear, too scared to speak. The Three Heroes of Qinghai were drenched in cold sweat.
Seeing them, a mischievous idea came to mind.
It was an old-fashioned phrase, one I’d thought about dozens of times while working in sales.
Since this world was full of clichés—why not act according to them?
I stepped forward toward the Three Heroes.
They gulped.
Looking at the eldest, I said,
“Kneel.”
Without protest, the Three Heroes of Qinghai dropped to their knees.
“This is the difference in height between you and me.”