Chapter 12: Desperate Race Against Time

A year had passed since Ha-Ru began his gruelling training under Seung-Jin's watchful eye. The once-untamed boy had grown into a disciplined martial artist, his mastery of Qi now extending from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet. The mountain had become his crucible, its peaks and valleys bearing witness to his relentless pursuit of strength and control.

During his time on Mount Tian, Ha-Ru had developed a martial art uniquely his own—Fist of Judgment. This technique allowed him to condense an extraordinary amount of Qi into his fist, far surpassing what most martial artists could achieve. The result was a punch of unparalleled devastation, delivered at speeds that defied comprehension. It was a technique born of necessity, refined through countless hours of trial and error, and now it stood as a testament to his growth.

But Fist of Judgment was only the beginning. Under Seung-Jin's guidance, Ha-Ru had learned and mastered several other techniques, each one adding a new layer to his arsenal. One such technique was Healing Touch, a martial art that utilized Qi to mend wounds and restore vitality. Seung-Jin had taught him this art, emphasizing the importance of balance—not just in combat, but in life. With Healing Touch, Ha-Ru could now offer solace to the injured, a skill that set him apart from the destructive legacy of his father.

Another technique he had honed to perfection was Lightning Step. This martial art, which he had first stumbled upon during his initial spar with Seung-Jin, allowed him to move at blinding speeds. What had once been a desperate, uncontrolled burst of energy had now been refined into a precise and deadly art. With Lightning Step, Ha-Ru could traverse the base of Mount Tian to its peak in less than the blink of an eye, his movements leaving behind only a faint afterimage.

Yet, perhaps the most crucial technique he had mastered was Qi Barrier. This was the same martial art Seung-Jin had used to protect himself from the onslaught of the Heavenly Demon's Qi during their fateful encounter at the resistance camp. Qi Barrier allowed Ha-Ru to erect a protective shield of energy, its size and strength dependent on the quantity of Qi he could muster. It was a defensive art, but in Ha-Ru's hands, it had become a versatile tool, capable of shielding allies or creating openings in battle.

Each of these techniques represented a step forward in Ha-Ru's journey, a testament to his resilience and determination. Yet, for all his progress, he knew the road ahead was still long and fraught with challenges. The mountain had taught him patience, discipline, and the value of perseverance. And as he stood at its peak, gazing out at the horizon, Ha-Ru felt a quiet confidence stirring within him. He was no longer the boy who had stumbled into this training. He was a martial artist, forged in the fires of Mount Tian, and ready to face whatever lay ahead.

Seung-Jin walked up beside Ha-Ru, who stood at the edge of the mountain peak, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The old man's eyes softened as he looked at his grandson, a proud smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Aren't you forgetting something?" he asked, his voice breaking the silence. Without waiting for a response, he tossed the worn bag he had given Ha-Ru at the start of his training toward him.

Ha-Ru turned, catching the bag midair with a puzzled expression. "Huh? What could I have forgotten?" he muttered, rummaging through the tattered pouch. His fingers brushed against a small vial, and he pulled it out, holding it up to the light. "Oh, right," he said, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "I completely forgot about this."

Seung-Jin chuckled, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Drink it," he said, his tone casual but laced with an underlying excitement.

Ha-Ru raised an eyebrow, holding the vial up to inspect its contents. "Are you not going to tell me what it is?" he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

Seung-Jin's smile widened, taking on a mischievous edge. "Oh, come on, do I look like I would give you something that would harm you?"

Ha-Ru pointed at his grandfather's face, his expression deadpan. "Look in a mirror and say that again."

Seung-Jin laughed, extending his hand. "Fine, then give it back."

Without hesitation, Ha-Ru uncorked the vial and downed its contents in one swift motion. "No thanks," he said, his smug grin returning.

"Hah, you brat," Seung-Jin said, shaking his head. But his expression quickly shifted to one of seriousness as he raised his hand, erecting a massive Qi Barrier that enveloped the entire peak of Mount Tian.

Ha-Ru's eyes widened in confusion and alarm. "What's with the Qi Barrier?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

Seung-Jin's face was solemn now, his voice steady but heavy with meaning. "That elixir is a great deal, Ha-Ru," he said. "It's a gift… from your mother."

Ha-Ru froze, his gaze dropping to the empty vial in his hand. "This was a gift from Mother?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. A slow, bittersweet smile spread across his face. "So… what is it?"

The Qi Barrier dissipated as Seung-Jin's expression grew grave. "Hopefully, you'll never have to know," he said. Without warning, he unleashed a torrent of devastating Qi, the energy surging toward Ha-Ru with overwhelming force. The peak of the mountain erupted in a blinding explosion, rocks and debris scattering in every direction.

Seung-Jin landed gracefully beside his worn-down shack, his eyes scanning the destruction. "You still breathing, brat!?" he shouted, his voice carrying over the chaos.

Just then, the door to the shack creaked open. Seung-Jin's head snapped toward the sound, his eyes widening in surprise. Standing there, unharmed and with a smug grin on his face, was Ha-Ru. "I'll take that as a pass," he said, brushing dust off his shoulders.

Seung-Jin let out a hearty laugh, his relief evident. "Hehe, I sure am gonna miss these moments of ours," he said, his voice warm with affection. He reached into his robe and pulled out another vial, this one glowing with a soft green light that mirrored his own Qi. "This elixir," he said, tossing it to Ha-Ru, "is made by yours truly. Only drink it when you think you're going to die. Understand?"

Ha-Ru caught the vial, his expression serious as he nodded. "I understand, Gramps." He glanced down at his tattered clothes, his brow furrowing. "Uhhh, now that I think about it, I need a new set of clothes," he said, gesturing to his ripped and worn outfit.

Seung-Jin burst into laughter. "Hahaha, that's right! You look terrible—definitely unbecoming of a man with the Yeon name!" He disappeared into the shack, returning moments later with a neatly folded set of clothes. "Here," he said, handing them to Ha-Ru. "This is the outfit I wore back in my younger days. It should fit you perfectly."

Ha-Ru took the clothes, his fingers brushing against the fine fabric. He quickly changed, admiring the fit as he adjusted the sleeves. "Not bad, Gramps," he said, a grin spreading across his face. "You have some good taste."

Seung-Jin turned away, his gaze drifting to the horizon. Tears welled in his eyes as memories flooded his mind—memories of a young martial artist training beside him, of a time when he had everything he could ever want. A time when Yeon Ji-Hoon wasn't the Heavenly Demon, but a son. "Yeah," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "I really did." The outfit Ha-Ru is wears now was once worn by a man feared by all, yet still loved by few. It was the outfit not of the Heavenly Demon's, but his father Yeon Ji-Hoon's.

"I better get back to the resistance," Ha-Ru said, bowing deeply to Seung-Jin, his gesture filled with the utmost respect. The weight of his training and the bond they had forged over the past year was evident in the way he held himself.

Seung-Jin placed a hand on Ha-Ru's shoulder, his expression serious. "Remember, just because you're a lot stronger now doesn't mean you're immortal. All it takes is one mistake," he warned, his voice carrying the weight of decades of experience. "Make a name for yourself—not as the Heavenly Demon's son, or the War Maiden's son, but as a name that strikes fear into your enemies and hope into the hearts of those who fight beside you."

Ha-Ru met his grandfather's gaze, his resolve unwavering. "I won't let you down. Thank you for everything, Gramps." The two shared one last smile, a silent understanding passing between them, before Ha-Ru turned and set off toward the resistance camp.

"I'll be keeping an eye on you, brat," Seung-Jin muttered to himself as he watched Ha-Ru's figure fade into the distance, his voice tinged with both pride and concern.

Ha-Ru moved with a speed he once thought impossible, his body slicing through the air like a blade. Trees blurred past him as he weaved through the forest, his movements fluid and effortless. Mountains that once took days to traverse were now crossed in mere seconds. The rush of freedom was exhilarating, a testament to how far he had come.

Within hours, Ha-Ru reached the outskirts of the resistance camp, a journey that had once taken him days. He barely broke a sweat, his breathing steady as he approached. But something felt wrong. The camp was eerily silent, the entrance unguarded, and not a soul in sight. Ha-Ru's instincts screamed at him to proceed with caution.

"What the hell is going on?" he whispered to himself, moving stealthily along the edges of the camp. Memories of Li Mei and Suyin flashed in his mind—their faces, their voices, the way they had bid him farewell. His heart clenched with worry. With a silent leap, he cleared the camp walls, landing without a sound.

The camp was deserted. Tents stood empty, and the only sound was the faint crackling of torches. Ha-Ru's unease grew as he called out, "Hello!? Anyone still here?" His voice echoed through the empty space, unanswered. He moved to his tent, his steps quickening. Inside, he found an unopened letter lying on his bed. His name was scrawled across the front in familiar handwriting.

Ha-Ru picked it up, his fingers trembling slightly as he unfolded it. The words were from Li Mei:

Dear Ha-Ru,

I'm writing this letter in case we don't return to the camp. Grandmaster Zhang noticed the Murim Alliance was preparing for an all-out assault, so he ordered a pre-emptive strike on their forces. Suyin and I protested, but without you here, our voices were ignored. If you're reading this and the torches are still lit, there might still be time. We're engaging the first group of enemy forces at Stormblade Peak. I pray we meet again.

Sincerely, Li Mei.

Ha-Ru's heart raced as he dropped the letter. Without a second thought, he dashed out of the tent, his body a blur as he activated Lightning Step to its fullest potential. Trees, rocks, and rivers became streaks of colour as he sped toward Stormblade Peak. "Those damn old bastards!" he roared, his voice tearing through the air. "Li Mei, Suyin… I'm coming." His face hardened, his determination sharper than ever as he pushed himself faster than he ever had before.

The battlefield at Stormblade Peak was a chaotic symphony of clashing steel and desperate cries. The ground was stained red, the air thick with the stench of blood and sweat. At the forefront of the resistance's forces, Li Mei and Suyin fought with unmatched grace and precision. Their movements were a dance of survival, each strike and dodge a testament to their skill. Yet, even they were struggling against the overwhelming numbers of the Murim Alliance.

In the distance, Grandmaster Zhang clashed with two of the enemy's commanders—Master Choi Do-Hyun and Master Park Il-Sang. The battle was fierce, but the odds were against him.

"I can't tell if you're brave or stupid to attack us head-on, Grandmaster Zhang!" Park Il-Sang taunted, launching a sharp arc of Qi from his sword.

Grandmaster Zhang dodged with a swift motion, his voice steady despite the chaos. "Heh, don't get cocky, boy!"

But before he could counter, Choi Do-Hyun appeared behind him, his palms glowing with a sinister energy. "He's not wrong," Choi sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Silent Viper Palm!" he roared, slamming his palms into Grandmaster Zhang's back. The force sent the grandmaster crashing into the ground, blood spraying from his mouth.

"AGHHH!" Grandmaster Zhang groaned, struggling to rise. "Fuck! How could I let myself be hit by such a technique?" he muttered, his frustration evident.

Choi Do-Hyun grinned, his expression smug. "This martial art disables your motor functions and delivers a lethal dose of poison. In other words… you'll die like a dog. HAHAHA!"

Grandmaster Zhang's vision blurred as he collapsed, his body failing him. "What a fool I am… to lose to such trash. What right do I have to call myself a Grandmaster?" he whispered before losing consciousness.

Choi Do-Hyun's laughter turned to disappointment. "This guy was their leader? How pathetic."

Park Il-Sang gestured across the battlefield. "Don't forget, they have two other leaders. And one of them is right over there." He pointed toward Ling Xia, the head of the Crimson Lotus clan, who was fighting valiantly against a swarm of enemies.

Choi Do-Hyun's eyes lit up with a predatory glee. "Well, well… ain't she a looker," he said, his voice dripping with malice. He began moving toward her, his intentions clear. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle—"

An arrow whizzed past his face, forcing him to stop in his tracks. "Who the fuck!?" he snarled, turning toward the source.

"Where are you running off to?" a mocking voice called out. Standing amidst the chaos, her bow in hand and her body splattered with the blood of fallen enemies, was Suyin. "That's right, you bastard. Now let's not waste time and get this over with."

Choi Do-Hyun's smirk returned as he advanced toward her, dodging her arrows with ease. "It's different defending against something you can see coming," he taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance.

Suyin ignored his jabs, firing her remaining arrows with precision. But Choi Do-Hyun was relentless, vanishing and reappearing just below her bow. "Tch, damn—" Suyin barely had time to react before his palm struck her chest, sending her crashing to the ground. Her bow slipped from her hands as she struggled to rise.

"Do you guys ever think before you act?" Choi Do-Hyun sneered, standing over her with a look of triumph.

Before Choi Do-Hyun could deliver the final blow to Suyin, a blade sliced through the air, aimed directly at the back of his head. It was deflected at the last moment by Master Park Il-Sang, who stepped in with a swift, practiced motion. "If it weren't for me, you'd be dead," Park Il-Sang said, his tone sharp and reprimanding. "Are you forgetting that even a Grandmaster can be killed if taken by surprise?"

Choi Do-Hyun rolled his eyes, his expression dismissive. "Whatever," he muttered, brushing off the warning.

The blade had come from a young woman who now stood a few paces away, her eyes blazing with defiance. "Come to save your friend, have we?" Choi Do-Hyun sneered, his voice dripping with mockery.

"I won't just stand by and watch you kill her, you bastard," she spat, pulling out another blade and readying herself for combat.

Choi Do-Hyun laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "If anyone saw this, they'd think we're the bad guys. Hahaha!"

The woman's lips curled into a snarl. "You think you're not?"

"Of course we're not, you moron," Choi Do-Hyun shot back, his patience wearing thin. He took a slow, deliberate step toward her, his voice rising. "We are simply exterminating the evil forces who have aligned themselves with the Heavenly Demon. We are the fucking heroes!"

"You're just a brainwashed fool playing hero," the woman retorted, her voice sharp and cutting. She took a cautious step back, her movements calculated as she tried to draw the two Masters away from Suyin's unconscious form.

Choi Do-Hyun noticed her strategy and stopped in his tracks, a cunning smirk spreading across his face. "Heh, what's your name?" he asked, his tone deceptively casual.

"Why would I nee—" she began, but her words were cut short as Choi Do-Hyun vanished, reappearing behind Suyin in an instant. He lifted her limp body by the throat, his grip firm and unyielding. "Because if you don't," he said, his voice cold and menacing, "this bitch dies."

The woman's eyes widened in panic. "Li Mei!" she shouted, her voice trembling with desperation. "My name is Li Mei!"

"Li Mei, huh?" Choi Do-Hyun repeated, dropping Suyin's body to the ground with a thud. He turned and began walking back toward Li Mei, his smirk widening. "You know, I like you, Li Mei. What do you say about joining my forces? If you do, I'll spare your little friend back there."

Li Mei's mind raced, her thoughts a whirlwind of fear and anger. The idea of joining Choi Do-Hyun repulsed her, but she couldn't let Suyin die. Her breaths came in rapid, shallow gasps, her hands trembling as sweat dripped from her brow. "Well?" Choi Do-Hyun pressed, his impatience growing. He closed the distance between them, his hand reaching out to grab her.

"N-No, wait—" Li Mei stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

But before Choi Do-Hyun could lay a finger on her, the ground beneath them erupted in a deafening explosion. The earth shattered into pieces as a powerful force landed behind the two Masters, sending shockwaves rippling through the battlefield. Park Il-Sang stumbled, losing his balance as he shouted, "What the fuck now!?" Choi Do-Hyun, equally shocked, spun around, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief.

From the cloud of dust and debris, a soft voice emerged. "Suyin…" it said, the tone gentle and filled with concern. Then, as the dust began to settle, the voice grew sharper, more commanding. "Li Mei, take Suyin and leave." The figure stepped forward, his presence radiating an overwhelming aura of power. "This battle is over."

To be continued....