All Chapters of Return of the Moyong Clan's Prodigal Master: Chapter 11
- Chapter 20
25 chapters
The Origin
Liu Jin's eyes bulged so far out they looked ready to pop from his skull. The pain of a liver shot was not immediate; it was a rising tide of agony that shut down the nervous system.His legs turned to jelly. His brain screamed for him to collapse, to curl into a fetal ball.But Ha-jun didn't let him fall.He grabbed Liu Jin by the collar of his silk robes with one hand, holding the taller boy upright. To the onlookers from a distance, it looked like Ha-jun was merely gripping his shirt, perhaps whispering a threat. They couldn't see the devastation happening behind the silk."You like to crush things under your heel?" Ha-jun murmured, his voice a low vibration that only Liu Jin could hear.Ha-jun delivered a third strike. This one was a knee, driven slowly but with hydraulic force into Liu Jin's left kidney.Crunch.It was a wet, muffled sound. The kidney didn't burst, but the tissue around it hemorrhaged instantly.Liu Jin's face turned a shade of grey that looked like wet ash. Tear
Diluted Version
[That diluted version is what you know today as the 'Azure Tide Scripture'.]Ha-jun froze. The world tilted on its axis."You mean..." Ha-jun looked at the dusty book in his hand with new eyes. "The Great Orthodox Art... the pride of the Moyong Clan... is just a cripple's version of this?"[Precisely. The 'Azure Tide' is a cup of water taken from the ocean of 'Chaos'. It is safe. It is clean. It is... mediocre.] [The Clan Elders labeled these original texts as 'Forbidden' and 'Demonic' not because they are evil, but because they were ashamed. They could not master them. They feared the power they could not control. So they locked the truth away and worshipped the lie.]Ha-jun opened The Chronicles of the Primal Chaos.The characters inside didn't look like ink. They looked like shifting shadows.To embrace Chaos is not to seek disorder, but to accept that Order is a lie. Fire burns. Water drowns. Wind cuts. The Chaos Practitioner eats them all and becomes the storm.He opened The Ste
Beggar with Golden Bowl
[Advisory: Calm down, Host. You are hyperventilating.][Analysis: The 'Chaos Secret Art' is not[System: Now you're thinking like a visionary. But yes, your math is correct. Beating up low-level trash yields low-level rewards. Jang Myung is worth nothing in the grand scheme of things. Liu Jin is slightly better trash.] [If you want the big payout, you need to target the 'Root Causes'. The Elders. The Direct Lineage. The people who actually ruined your life. You get paid for the quality of vengeance, not just quantity. The Chaos Void Art isn't eating you. You are simply... minuscule.] "Minuscule?" Ha-jun wiped the sweat from his eyes, glaring at the floating text. "I felt my soul dissolving!"[Correction: You felt your Dantian filling up for the first time in two lifetimes. You are used to running on fumes. Now you have a full tank of high-grade aviation fuel, and your chassis is rattling because you haven't tightened the screws yet.][You are weak, exhausted. And frankly, hysterical.
Demonic Vessel
"'Diluted (10%) version'..." Ha-jun read aloud. A bitter smile twisted his lips. "So the Moyong Clan, the 'Lords of the Azure Tide', have been puffing out their chests over a puddle of water for three thousand years."[System: Precisely. It’s actually quite funny from an objective standpoint. They act so arrogantly about their 'Pure Orthodox Art', unaware that it’s just the 'Chaos Art' with the dangerous parts removed. It’s like bragging about riding a bicycle with training wheels while the motorcycle sits in the garage.]"And Concealment: Perfect," Ha-jun muttered. "This is the most important part. 'Mutated or denser Azure Tide'. This means I can use this openly."[System: Correct. They will think you are a prodigy who has awakened a 'Heavy Water' variant of the clan art. They will praise you for it. They will never suspect that you are actually wielding the very force their ancestors were too terrified to touch.] [It is the ultimate camouflage. You will destroy them using the True
Poisoned
Ha-jun stood in the doorway, the black sludge dripping slowly from his fingertips. He didn't look ashamed. He didn't look embarrassed. He looked at Kang with the impassive, dead eyes of a statue."State your business," Ha-jun said. His voice was raspy, dry from the night's intensity.Kang dry-heaved, waving his hand in front of his face to dispel the odor. "Business? My business is regretting being the one sent to fetch you! Gods, you smell like a necromancer’s armpit."Kang took another step back, ensuring he was upwind. He straightened his robes, trying to regain some semblance of authority despite his watering eyes."The Clan Head summons you," Kang spat the words out. "You are to report to the Hall of Great Clarity immediately. Do not keep the Patriarch waiting."Ha-jun’s expression didn't flicker, but inside, his mind sharpened to a razor's edge.The Clan Head.Moyong Wi.In his past life, Ha-jun had worshipped the man. He had viewed his uncle as a god, a benevolent ruler who was
Summons
"They were actively suppressing me. Every single day."[System: A direct descendant with a claim to the throne is dangerous. A dead descendant raises questions. A weak, incompetent descendant is useful. They made you weak. They manufactured your mediocrity.] [And now, the Chaos Art has spat its hard work onto your skin.] [Congratulations, Host. You are officially detoxed. But unless you stop eating their food, you will fill up again.]Ha-jun didn't scream. He didn't rage. The anger went past the point of noise and into the realm of absolute silence.He turned and walked toward the communal well.The well was deserted at this hour; the other disciples were already at morning drills. Ha-jun stripped off his soiled robes, standing naked in the cool morning air.His body was a masterpiece of lean muscle and scarred callousness, but it was painted black with the evidence of his clan’s treachery.He dropped the bucket into the well.Splash.He hauled it up, the rope groaning.He poured th
Fake Concern
Moyong Ha-jun clasped his hands together in a martial salute, a salute between warriors, not a bow from a servant to a master. He barely bent his waist."Outer Disciple Moyong Ha-jun," he said, his voice echoing clearly in the vast hall, cutting through the oppressive silence. "Answers the summons."A ripple of shock went through the Elders.Not kneeling? And a salute of equals?Moyong Wi’s eyes narrowed slightly. It was a microscopic movement, but to Ha-jun’s enhanced vision, it was as loud as a shout."Ha-jun," Moyong Wi said. His voice was warm, rich, and fatherly. It was the voice of a snake charmer. "You have grown. It has been... what? Two years since I saw you last?""Three years, Clan Head," Ha-jun corrected politely. "Since the funeral of my mother.""Ah. Yes." Moyong Wi sighed, a perfect performance of melancholy. "Time flows like water. I heard... disturbing reports, nephew. They say you assaulted a fellow disciple. That you crippled Inner Disciple Liu Jin. Is this true?"T
Rest
"The bad memories of suffering, the hidden enemies... no wonder you lashed out at Liu Jin. You are stressed and frightened. You need some distance from the clan house. Take your time to heal."Here it comes, Ha-jun thought.The shove."I have been thinking," Moyong Wi continued, guiding Ha-jun gently toward the center of the room, as if presenting a prize steer to a butcher. "You are fifteen now. You are a man of the Moyong bloodline. It is time you saw the world beyond these walls. Time you breathed air that isn't tainted by these... conspirators."Moyong Wi gestured to a map hanging on the wall."A caravan is leaving tomorrow for the Iron City. It carries a shipment of Spirit Herbs and Ore from our mines. It is a vital shipment, but the route is... standard and safe."'Even from you, Uncle?' Ha-jun wanted to ask, but didn't.Moyong Wi smiled, a smile that didn't reach his predatory eyes."I want you to lead it, Ha-jun."The Elders murmured. Leading a caravan was a task for a Senior
Leader of the Caravan
Their leader was a man with a missing ear and a jagged scar running from his forehead to his chin. He was cleaning his fingernails with a dagger."So," the scarred man grunted as Ha-jun approached. He didn't stand up or didn't bow to Moyong Ha-jun. He looked Ha-jun up and down with eyes full of mockery. "This is the 'Young Lord' we're babysitting? Looks more like a stable boy who stole a robe."The other mercenaries laughed, a crude, grating sound."Hey, kid," one of them jeered. "Do you know which end of the horse goes forward? Or do you need us to draw you a diagram?"Ha-jun stopped in front of them. The rain plastered his hair to his forehead. He looked small compared to these hardened criminals."I am Moyong Ha-jun," he said quietly. "Leader of this caravan.""Leader?" The scarred man stood up, towering over Ha-jun. He smelled of stale ale and blood. "Listen here, runt. The Clan Head paid us to get these wagons to the city. He paid us extra to make sure you get there... eventually
Eliminated
The Bandit Chief, a massive man wielding a greataxe, stepped forward. "Is this the runt? He looks soft.""He is soft," Gwak laughed. "Break his legs first. Let him scream a bit. The Clan Head wants to know that he suffered a gruesome pain before he dies."Ha-jun sat on his horse. He looked at the fifty men surrounding him. He looked at the steel in their hands.He slowly dismounted. His boots hit the dust with a heavy, solid thud.He untied the wooden sword from his waist."Soft," Ha-jun repeated, testing the word.He looked up. The Eye of the Sword Sovereign activated. His pupils snapped into vertical slits. A grey, suffocating mist began to seep from his skin, the Chaos Qi leaking out, unable to be contained by his excitement."You brought me fifty teachers," Ha-jun said, his voice echoing unnaturally in the canyon. "And fifty steel blades."He gripped the wooden hilt. The wood groaned as he poured the heavy, violent energy of the Void into it. The "stick" turned black, vibrating w