Early in the morning.
Jong Ri Un sat with his chin propped on his hand.
His fingers, always restless, were even busier than usual.
It had been a day since the spar between Gal Yu-wol and Gold-necked Hwan.
Jong Ri Un had stayed up all night.
On the desk in his office, countless books and bamboo scrolls lay open.
They were books from the Jinmu Archive, the library of the Murim Alliance, which Jong Ri Un had brought over.
The materials were all about talent and the supreme masters of past generations.
—Jeongpasabon’gi
—Deungbongjogeuk Ilram
—Munhuhwi Yeoljeon
—The Supreme Masters of Mugokseong and Deadly Assassins of the Past
It was all information about talent and supreme masters.
Jong Ri Un’s initial conclusion was this.
“Is he truly of Mugokseong?”
Jong Ri Un closed all the materials and tilted his head back to the sky.
Mugokseong referred to martial talent on the verge of legend.
One who could perfectly display any martial art seen, and whose intelligence far surpassed that of ordinary people.
It was the very epitome of genius.
The most recent Mugokseong had been Gucheon Sword Saint Sa Mun-hwi.
But even that was nearly two hundred years ago, making it hard to verify the authenticity of the information.
Yet, Gold-necked Hwan’s current abilities could not be explained by anything but Mugokseong.
Defeating Gal Yu-wol with martial arts learned in less than a few months.
Mok Hyeonhak’s testimony.
All proved that Gold-necked Hwan was indeed a genius.
“Hoo.”
If Gold-necked Hwan really was Mugokseong, he was destined to become the greatest under heaven.
As the Murim Alliance Leader, there was no way to let such a person slip away.
Until now, it had been a personal fondness; from now on, it was an official matter.
For a child with such talent, bringing him close was naturally advantageous.
He had already issued a Hamhuryung to the martial artists and elders who had witnessed the spar.
A talent so immense was like a hidden awl in a bag—Nangjungjichu.
It was too big to hide, but it was better to cover it for now than not at all.
Now, it was time to think.
He needed a way to tie the talent of Gold-necked Hwan to the Murim Alliance.
Knock, knock.
Just as he was about to interrupt his thoughts, someone knocked on the door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Gold-necked Hwan.”
He’d expected the polite knocking, but his heart still dropped.
“Does this kid not sleep in the morning?”
Gal Yu-wol, who was of a similar age, would sleep until late unless woken up, but this one—was this what made a Mugokseong so different, in every way?
He cleared his throat so his voice wouldn’t sound rough from the night.
“Come in.”
He used his most solemn tone.
It was a voice he only used when gathering all the Murim Alliance martial artists to deliver an important message.
Gold-necked Hwan opened the door and bowed.
Despite it being morning, he looked neat and orderly, with not a trace of disarray.
“Good morning.”
“Yes. Come in.”
Looking at Gold-necked Hwan’s face, Jong Ri Un’s mind spun quickly.
Honestly, at his age, there was no need for such worries.
Winning someone’s heart was not the task of the one trying, but of the one being wooed.
Even when he’d first joined the martial world, he had never been one for empty words, so this was a hard task for Jong Ri Moon.
“Ahem, ahem. Young master, seeing you again, you’re really quite handsome. You look this good now, but a bit older and you’ll surely make all the girls swoon. Hahaha.”
“…Huh? Ah, yes. Thank you.”
Gold-necked Hwan’s eyes widened briefly, then returned to normal.
Even Gold-necked Hwan, who rarely failed to respond, answered late this time.
He furrowed his brows slightly, as if trying to read the hidden meaning.
“Damn.”
Jong Ri Un cursed his own awkwardness internally and quickly tried to recover.
“In any case, I watched your match well. It was the Namhae Sibigeom of the Hae Nam Sect, wasn’t it? Truly impressive.”
“Thank you.”
“The Hae Nam Sect Leader must be very proud. You’ve achieved such results after so little time.”
Gold-necked Hwan was at a loss for words again.
Had he made another mistake?
Jong Ri Un quickly thought over his last words but couldn’t find any fault.
“Perhaps the Hae Nam Sect Leader doesn’t know. While I did formally learn from the Outer General, I haven’t personally visited the sect to receive the Jangmunin’s approval.”
“…Oh? Is that so?”
That must have made him hesitate.
But it was no problem.
The Cheonryuyuseong Sword was from the Hae Nam Sect, and he was more than qualified to receive disciples.
Still, one had to visit the sect to be formally registered, but Gold-necked Hwan had not.
“Yes. I’ve been too busy to go to Hae Nam.”
“I see.”
As Jong Ri Un knew, the Hwanggeum Family had recently been in conflict with Jusanhwa.
Though most of the martial artists were from the Murim Alliance, they were likely too busy introducing the people and facilities inside, strategizing, and so on.
So, he was not yet spiritually affiliated with the Hae Nam Sect.
Of course, learning the Namhae Sibigeom meant he was already scheduled to be registered.
But it wasn’t as if only those born of the Hae Nam Sect could act as its martial artists.
Cheonryu Yuseonggeom Gwak Jindo, for instance, was the Outer General of the Hwanggeum Family.
There were a few in the Murim Alliance, and also among the Gupailbang and Odaesega, who originated from other sects.
Most were collateral, but some were direct lines—Shinsan’s Jegalheon being a prime example.
Jong Ri Un’s mind worked even faster.
Currently, Gold-necked Hwan aimed to become the head of the Hwanggeum Family.
He couldn’t pressure him to stay with the Murim Alliance without reason.
Now was the time to support Gold-necked Hwan with no strings attached.
To relax his guard, so that when the time came, he could seize the opportunity.
Jong Ri Moon spoke in as gentle a voice as he could.
“Ahem, ahem. You must be busy, so I won’t keep you. Shall we head to the Cheon Gi Go?”
“Yes.”
Jong Ri Un stood, and Gold-necked Hwan followed suit.
Jong Ri Un opened the Murim Alliance Leader’s Chamber and led the way.
At that moment, he saw Gal Yu-wol lingering at the far end of the hallway.
As soon as she saw Jong Ri Un, she started and hid in another direction.
“She must be quite discouraged.”
Jong Ri Un felt a pang.
Gal Yu-wol’s talent was not lacking.
Comparing Janggang to Daeyang was harsh, especially at her young age.
After her spar with Gold-necked Hwan, he’d gone to encourage her, but she refused to see him.
It seemed she needed some time for her wounds to heal.
“He has the most outstanding talent I’ve ever seen.”
Suddenly, Gold-necked Hwan spoke from behind.
He must have seen Gal Yu-wol hiding as well.
“Haha. Coming from you, it sounds like boasting.”
“No, not at all. Her level can’t be compared to any other juniors from Hengshan or elsewhere. I learned a lot from her as well.”
Jong Ri Un turned his head and quietly looked at Gold-necked Hwan.
His voice was earnest and his eyes unwavering.
Jong Ri Un smiled.
“She must have gained much from sparring with you, too.”
“I hope so.”
Thus, they slowly walked deeper into the Murim Alliance.
Cheon Gi Go, unlike the regular armory, housed mystical weapons and tools.
There was no reason for such things to be in a place with high traffic.
“Do you know what’s inside Cheon Gi Go?”
“My knowledge is limited, so I don’t know much. Is the Shintuhaengjeon here, perhaps?”
“You know quite a bit for someone with limited knowledge.”
Jong Ri Moon laughed.
Shintuhaengjeon referred to the legendary gourd said to have been used by the legendary thief Shintu.
It was said to contain the secrets of qinggong that Shintu had mastered.
“Are there any items you shouldn’t take out?”
“There aren’t. But inside, there are even iron swords kept only because some ancient master used them, so be careful.”
“They say mystical weapons often bring misfortune, not blessings.”
“That’s why it’s hard to recommend any of them.”
How much blood had been spilled over mystical weapons like the Jangbodo?
That was why Jong Ri Un couldn’t tell Gold-necked Hwan to take or not take anything.
Surely, there would be a fated connection.
Just as he’d been drawn to his beloved Pung Han Blade.
“This is Cheon Gi Go.”
They stopped at a dead-end alley.
Gold-necked Hwan spoke.
“A Jinbeop.”
“That’s right. Anyone caught in the formation is unknowingly led right back out.”
“They say making a Jinbeop that’s easy to recognize is the mark of an amateur. This is a superb formation.”
“It’s a masterpiece of Shinsan. He’ll be pleased to meet you someday. I hear you’re knowledgeable about formations too.”
With that, Jong Ri Un stepped into the Jinbeop.
Gold-necked Hwan followed in his footsteps.
Before long, they were standing in front of a shabby door.
There wasn’t even the usual plaque.
“This is Cheon Gi Go.”
“I can feel many auras inside.”
“Even from the front of Cheon Gi Go, you can feel the Dosubudo flowing powerfully.”
“I see.”
Gold-necked Hwan gazed at the door.
From Jong Ri Un’s perspective, there was definitely interest in his eyes.
It would be stranger for a martial artist not to be interested before Cheon Gi Go.
“Well then, may I ask you one last favor?”
“Yes.”
“The mystical weapons inside are full of jealousy. Don’t provoke them too much.”
“I understand.”
Satisfied with the answer, Jong Ri Un stepped aside.
Gold-necked Hwan gave a short bow and, without hesitation, opened the door and stepped inside.
The door closed.
Now, no longer as the Murim Alliance Leader but as a simple martial artist, he was curious which mystical weapon would resonate with this genius.
***
Cheon Gi Go.
It was a place shrouded in rumors.
Some even called it the Murim Alliance’s bluff to not fall behind Gupailbang.
In fact, the mystical weapons in Cheon Gi Go were seldom revealed.
As they say, “Seeing is desiring”—if you list what’s inside and word gets out, what would you do if a thief breaks in?
The Shintuhaengjeon was the only item recently known to have been recovered by the Murim Alliance.
Beyond that, little was known.
“Mystical weapons, huh.”
I’d encountered a lot of unexpected situations since coming to the Murim Alliance.
Suddenly receiving a technique, or now, being allowed into the mystical armory.
But all these things pointed to one fact: my value had risen.
Enough that the Murim Alliance watched me closely.
I looked around the shelves up front.
Unlike the shabby door, the inside was neat and orderly.
There seemed to be a Jinbeop keeping the temperature constant.
“What a curious color.”
I looked at a sword in the middle of the shelf.
I didn’t know what technique was used to make it, but the blade gleamed blue.
I didn’t intend to touch it.
Jong Ri Un’s last words were, in effect, a warning not to mess around too much.
I wasn’t here for a tour of a smithy, and I had to be cautious.
Even just coming here was a rare opportunity to broaden my knowledge.
“Ah, it’s Damro.”
I realized after seeing the engraving “Guyaja” on the sword.
Guyaja was a famous craftsman.
There were even swords here over a thousand years old.
Truly a fascinating place.
I quickly scanned the area.
I wouldn’t spend too long here.
I didn’t plan to take anything just because it caught my eye.
Not many people in Gangho even knew what these mystical weapons looked like, but I had to be careful.
Those who coveted more than their station always paid with blood.
The famed swords of Guyaja and Ganjang were the very ones one shouldn’t touch.
I carefully spread my Jin Gi from the Taeul Heavenly Origin Divine Art.
I communed with each artifact, one by one.
Fortunately, the swords like Damro, Ganjang, and Makya didn’t respond to my Jin Gi.
I closed my eyes.
That way, I wouldn’t be enchanted by the abundance of treasures.
With my eyes shut, I walked guided by my Jin Gi, going wherever it led me.
After turning through several corridors, my feet stopped of their own accord.
I didn’t hesitate.
Still with my eyes closed, I reached out my hand.
Something soft wrapped gently around my palm.
“Hmm.”
I opened my eyes wide.
A current of energy flowed into my hand gripping the sword.
It surged quickly through my body, then flowed back out through my palm and returned to the blade.
It was only a little energy, but its purity surpassed even my Taeul Heavenly Origin Divine Art.
On the outside, it looked like any old sword—there were no distinguishing marks on the blade or the hilt.
Only a long string hung from the handle.
But from the energy that briefly passed through me, I was certain.
This was my sword.