By Zephyria 
HF 71
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“Hwak!” Ho-yeon let out an involuntary cry as they suddenly surged forward. He couldn’t even close his mouth, held half-embraced as they raced across the prairie.
“I don’t have the skill for actual combat!”
“Fill the gaps between your body with internal power. Imagine the energy as a thin thread and stretch it taut up to the Baekhoe point.”
Even while running, he explained the lightfoot technique with an air of complete composure. It was easy to say, but Ho-yeon had to keep glancing back, terrified that the arrows of the pursuing barbarians would pierce through his body.
If he continued to be a dead weight, he feared Howi might just abandon him. After all, he was currently tucked under the man’s side with both legs dangling. When he stole a glance at Howi’s face, as expected, it was utterly expressionless.
There seemed to be at least a dozen barbarians in pursuit. Furthermore, as if proving their reputation as masters of horsemanship, they were drawing their bowstrings without even holding the reins. A considerable number of arrows had already slammed into the ground, unable to keep up with the pair’s speed. At this point, he was just glad Tae-pyeong had fled first.
No matter how exceptional a stallion was, if it carried someone as clumsy as him, the barbarians would eventually catch their tail. Moreover, even for Howi, one’s own life must surely come first.
Determined to do something before being discarded, Ho-yeon sent the energy from his dantian tautly throughout his entire body. Then, just as he had said, he felt his body become lighter. It wasn’t just a feeling; it was a fact that his movements had become faster than he could have ever imagined.
Ho-yeon tried his best to keep pace with Howi’s stride. When he imagined himself gliding over the prairie grass without crushing the blades, he gained even more speed.
“Concentrate your internal energy on the Yongcheon point and use it as a rebound.”
Somehow, it seemed as though a hint of approval lingered in Howi’s tone. Of course, this might have been a delusion born of his intense concentration.
The sound of the barbarians’ hooves grew more violent, but Ho-yeon remained fully immersed in maintaining the lightfoot technique. Following Howi’s instructions, he condensed internal energy at the Yongcheon point on the sole of his foot and then pushed it out as if exploding that single point. Consequently, his light body received a rebound and surged forward at an even greater speed.
Thanks to his stabilized middle dantian, the internal energy required for the lightfoot technique was already abundant. Having succeeded in a lightfoot technique for the first time in his life on the first try, Ho-yeon was simply amazed at himself. He began to wonder if he might actually be a gifted talent in martial arts, simply lacking in education.
Of course, only his mind had surged ahead; his body remained close to where Howi led him.
“It… it works. I can do it…!”
His breathless exclamation was mixed with ragged gasps. Because he was so focused on the lightfoot technique, Ho-yeon didn’t even notice if Howi had let out a scoff.
Conversely, a smile remained fixed on Ho-yeon’s lips. His blue-grey eyes, which had been tense and gloomy, were now filled with confidence.
Since he could not teach demonic arts, Mu-gyeong had taught him a lightfoot technique left behind by a hidden master of the orthodox sect. During a period when boredom had set in amidst his repeating lives, he had mastered every secret manual in the Heavenly Demon Pavilion.
The lightfoot technique he taught Ho-yeon was also a martial art he had learned through those manuals. Gigangyongcheon (Energy Descending to the Gushing Spring), Yeopsangbisin (Flying Body Atop a Leaf). The manuals contained only very simple formulas.
Martial arts are usually passed down based on compressed formulas, but Mu-gyeong had essentially spoon-fed Ho-yeon by unraveling each formula one by one.
As Ho-yeon became more accustomed to the lightfoot technique, his acorn-colored hair fluttered wildly in the wind. The ribbon he had used to tie it back had long since flown away. The Jiusan remained firmly strapped to Ho-yeon’s back.
His hair fluttering over the green prairie was quite a sight. It might have been even more striking if it were his original hair color.
However, as if erasing his useless sentimentality, Mu-gyeong strongly snatched an arrow flying toward Ho-yeon’s back with his hand. They had moved far enough that arrows generally couldn’t reach them, but one particular fellow’s arrow was still within range.
Mu-gyeong looked back at the man drawing the bowstring. He was a man of such immense bulk that one wondered if the horse he rode was being crushed.
Urkan. Mu-gyeong had encountered him in a past life so distant it was barely a memory. At that time, while heading to the North Sea, Mu-gyeong had ruthlessly slaughtered every barbarian who blocked his path. Among them, the one who had persisted with stubborn tenacity was that Urkan.
He had been killed by Mu-gyeong’s hand back then, but since he was alive now, he must have become the leader of the barbarians.
Urkan’s bowstring was pulled taut as if it might snap, and soon the arrow left the bow and flew.
Unaware that an arrow was targeting the back of his head, Ho-yeon was completely absorbed in the ecstasy of the lightfoot technique. He had craved martial arts so much that he was in a trance just because he had been taught one thing. His absorption was indeed much faster than Mu-gyeong had expected.
Perhaps sensing the cold energy flying toward the back of his head belatedly, Ho-yeon whipped his head around. The arrow, tracing its trajectory, was etched into Ho-yeon’s wide-open pupils. Simultaneously, Urkan’s gaze, from far away, locked onto Ho-yeon’s face.
The arrow had been aimed precisely at the back of Ho-yeon’s head, accounting even for their running speed. Just as Ho-yeon let out a short scream, Mu-gyeong gripped the arrow about a hand’s breadth from the back of his head. The sound of the arrow snapping—crack—echoed vividly in Ho-yeon’s ears.
“Quickly, go faster!”
Ho-yeon shouted urgently, fearing another arrow attack. However, Urkan’s bowstring was now pointed toward the ground. While it was true that they had widened the gap to a distance that couldn’t be closed by the speed of a horse, Mu-gyeong recalled the man’s eyes. The barbarians were people with the eyes of hawks.
‘Should I kill him?’
Mu-gyeong was certain of the gaze that had landed on Ho-yeon’s face. And then, the man had looked bewildered. It was a look he had seen several times from those who looked at Ho-yeon at the Jade Pavilion. However, there was no reason to delay the journey to the Ice Palace. He could simply deal with him on the way back.
As Ho-yeon turned his head again to check the distance from the barbarians, Mu-gyeong hoisted Ho-yeon, whom he had been holding by the side, and slung him over his shoulder.
Ho-yeon’s body, felt against his shoulder, was thrashing more than ever. The cold frost energy remained, but because he had operated his internal power, his pulsing blood paths could be felt clearly.
“If I’m too heavy, please put me down anytime! I’ll run…!”
In truth, Ho-yeon felt more at ease running while carried over a shoulder. But on the other hand, he didn’t want to forget the sensation of the lightfoot technique he had realized for the first time.
It was long after they had raced across the endless prairie to the point where the pursuing barbarians were no longer visible as even a single dot. He, who had been running as if folding the earth, gradually slowed his pace and came to a stop. Ho-yeon felt a bit motion-sick and had been tightly covering his mouth with both hands for a while.
Since he hadn’t eaten much, there was nothing to throw up. Only then did Ho-yeon lift his head and look back at where they had come from. It was a vast wasteland where not even a single grazing goat could be seen.
Mu-gyeong set Ho-yeon down from his shoulder. Having been tossed around on that shoulder for over an hour, Ho-yeon’s face was pale.
He let out a dry heave on the grassy ground, but only clear fluid came out. Even so, Ho-yeon’s face was full of apology.
Since Howi’s actions were intended to save him, he felt it was rude to be gagging. Howi reached into the satchel hanging from the opposite shoulder—the one not used to carry Ho-yeon—and pulled something out. It was a leather pouch filled with water.
“…Thank you. Howi-nim, you are truly my benefactor.”
With a pale face, Ho-yeon smiled faintly and tried to take the leather pouch. However, Howi lifted the pouch slightly higher. Wondering why he was doing that, Ho-yeon’s face was filled with curiosity.
“Does Young Master Wi have about a hundred benefactors?”
To think he would use such a cold tone after carefully escaping and bringing him here. Ho-yeon found Howi just as unpredictable as Cheon Mu-gyeong.
However, since the question had been asked, Ho-yeon had no choice but to think about how many benefactors he had. The Ice Dragon was a being who gave a parental, descending love, so if he were excluded from being called a benefactor, there were actually only two others.
One was Cheon Mu-gyeong, who had saved him from the Blood Cult, and the other was Howi, who had saved his life from the barbarians’ pursuit. Since there were only two, Ho-yeon felt a bit wronged by the mention of a hundred.
But Howi had gifted him a lightfoot technique that even Cheon Mu-gyeong hadn’t taught him. In that case, wouldn’t Howi be a greater benefactor than Mu-gyeong?
However, he didn’t believe Cheon Mu-gyeong had made him do physical training simply to tease him. If he wanted to be mischievous, he would have simply ordered him as the Cult Leader to climb a mountain with lead weights. Perhaps it was thanks to that physical training that today’s lightfoot technique shone.
Ho-yeon still felt resentful toward Mu-gyeong, who had driven him away without even looking at his face, but he had to admit that the man’s presence still remained strongly within him.
“Not a hundred, just exactly two. But Howi-nim is the first person to teach me martial arts.”
Ho-yeon’s eyes sparkled as if he had met a master. However, the skin near Howi’s jaw was slightly parted. Since there was no blood anywhere, Ho-yeon’s gaze naturally fixed on the spot in curiosity.