I left the Cheon Gi Go immediately. I had already taken my sword, so there was nothing left to see.
“You’re out.”
As soon as I stepped out, Jong Ri Un looked at my waist before anything else. My sword was already hanging there. The gray cord wrapped around the hilt was to cover the blade.
The blade was so chipped that even the old cord wouldn’t cut through it.
“…That’s quite an unusual taste.”
“I was drawn to it.”
“Heh.”
Jong Ri Un laughed, but there was a heavy note of regret in his voice. Even though he said it was my choice, it seemed he’d hoped I would pick one of the weapons he had in mind.
“There’s the Shintuhaengjeon, and even the Yongado inscribed with the Cheonryong Sword Technique, yet you come out with such a relic. Of course, one shouldn’t rely on a divine weapon, but wasn’t this a rare opportunity?”
“I just found myself drawn to this one. That’s all there is to it.”
I looked down at my sword. It looked even more shabby in the daylight. The energy that had washed over my body earlier was now nowhere to be felt. Even when I quietly tried to infuse my internal energy, there was no response at all.
But I could feel it. A purer energy than anything else. Jong Ri Un couldn’t sense it, so to him, the sword probably seemed nothing more than scrap.
“Humph, that sword is called Songro. It belonged to the twenty-second head of the Jongnam Sect, Byeokrihang.”
Jongnam Sect. It was true—my current cultivation technique was fundamentally based on the Taeeul Shingong of the Jongnam Sect. Maybe that’s why this sword had responded to me. Destiny always appears in the most unexpected places.
While I was lost in thought, Jong Ri Un kept speaking.
“But that sword is only meaningful because that man used it. The blade itself is not a famed sword. If it’s for practical use, it’s a downright poor choice.”
Jong Ri Un clicked his tongue, glancing at my sword with lingering regret. It was as if he would let me back inside if I just asked. But I truly liked this sword.
“Songro. It’s a good name.”
“If it pleases you, then so be it.”
And so, Songro became my sword. After that, the next thing to do was clear.
We still had a few things left to discuss.
***
Jong Ri Un sat with his hands interlaced, hiding his chin. In front of him lay a black leather pouch.
It was a parting gift from Gold-necked Hwan before he left.
The mouth of the pouch was loosely tied, and inside was a head soaked in yellow liquid.
“You always manage to leave me speechless.”
I already knew whose head this was. I’d heard. It was said to be the eldest son of the Namak Geomgun, the head of the Hyeongsanpa.
Gold-necked Hwan had claimed that, regarding the attack on the Hwanggeum Family, the Hyeongsanpa—and especially Ong So-hu—bore a heavy responsibility, more so than the Jusampa. He said it was a matter that absolutely warranted the intervention and punishment of the Murim Alliance. Judging by his words, it did seem justified.
To think, they not only allied with the evil sects but also sold off the disciples of their own sect. They had thoroughly undermined the values of the Jeongpa.
“To have read this far… truly a genius born once in a thousand years.”
Now, both Jong Ri Un and Jegalheon were convinced that the Murim Alliance’s influence had grown too weak.
Naturally, that was because the Gupailbang had grown too large.
The Murim Alliance was in a precarious position even among the Jeongpa. If they mustered all their strength, they could confront one of the Gupailbang, but those factions wouldn’t even give them the chance.
Because, the moment they fought, it would be like admitting the Gupailbang posed a threat.
So the Gupailbang only fought among themselves for their own interests, but if an attack came from outside, they’d unite instantly. That was how they had managed to dominate the martial world for so long.
—“There’s no justification. Justification. If you cut off the tail, it ends there. You need to find the head. That’s why, last time, I foolishly tried to entangle the Shaolin Temple with a merchant group and ended up with nothing but curses.”
Jegalheon’s words echoed in my mind.
It was about the time the Taehwa Merchant Group, run by a secular disciple of Shaolin Temple, was found selling unverified Haemo Pills. These pills could increase a person’s internal energy by ten years but came with a fatal risk of deviation and qi deviation.
Upon examination, it turned out they were manufactured much like Sohwandon, but the expensive ingredients had been replaced with cheap ones. What caught Jong Ri Un’s eye was that a mere merchant group knew the formula for Sohwandon.
Sure enough, once the ledgers were checked, a portion of the immense profits made by the merchant group was being funneled to Shaolin Temple, and the Murim Alliance immediately cracked down on the group and then aimed at the temple itself.
Of course, the Shaolin Temple didn’t even bother to respond. Even when the Murim Alliance demanded an explanation, Shaolin brushed it off, saying it was the personal deviation of a secular disciple.
After that, wild rumors about Jong Ri Un began to spread throughout the Central Plains. That he gathered groups of boys at the Giru for play, or that he had a bizarre habit of eating children under the age of seven—utterly ridiculous stories.
It was impossible to trace their origins, but it was clear who was spreading them.
This was how the Gupailbang dealt with rising powers.
“So this is what they call justification.”
Jong Ri Un nudged Ong So-hu’s perfectly preserved head with a finger. Except for the severed neck, it was spotless. This, too, was Gold-necked Hwan’s handiwork.
Hyeongsanpa. Though not one of the Gupailbang, it was a large enough sect to be of concern to them.
Beheading the sect leader’s son was more than enough to provoke the Gupailbang. And it also provided the justification Jegalheon had so desired.
Exposing the rot in the Jeongpa, giving the Murim Alliance the grounds to rise as the central power.
Jong Ri Un tightly tied up the leather pouch again, then smirked without meaning to. Gold-necked Hwan was a man he simply couldn’t understand.
He didn’t seem to be that familiar with the ways of the martial world, and yet he understood the underlying order perfectly.
—“But Young Master, how do we prove that Ong So-hu committed such atrocities? The Hyeongsanpa will never admit it; won’t they just attack us?”
—“There are Samdae Jeja from our own family who can testify.”
—“Do you think they’ll accept such testimony?”
—“True. But is proof even necessary?”
—“In fact, the lack of proof is what makes it valuable. That is true power, isn’t it?”
For now, I sent a letter to Jegalheon in Yunnan, briefly explaining the current situation. He would surely return immediately.
The direction of the Murim Alliance was bound to change significantly from now on.
***
At the very least, Ong So-hu’s head should be a great help. I trusted that the Murim Alliance would put it to good use.
If we used it, it would be an insult; but if the Murim Alliance used it, it was justice.
As the power and influence of the Murim Alliance grew, things would become easier for us as well, since we were allies. Who knew how Hyeongsanpa would react, but the Namak Geomgun was known for his fiery temper. We didn’t know what he would do, but the more he resisted, the better it was for us. That would be the start of Hyeongsanpa’s downfall.
Father was in Red Cliff, closer than I thought. From Wuhan, it was only a short distance to Kotang. Indeed, it made sense for him to stay near the Murim Alliance headquarters in case of emergency.
It was even closer than Namchang or Wuhan. There was no time to waste.
As I was leaving, I turned back to look at the Murim Alliance building. At that moment, I felt someone watching me from afar. I whipped my head in that direction. As soon as I turned, the person ducked out of sight. I could tell by the hair that hadn’t quite fallen into place. It was Gal Yu-wol. Maybe she wanted to say something.
I turned back. At that moment, it struck me—hadn’t I forgotten something?
I looked to my side. Ah, I had completely forgotten—Myung Jaehee was missing. Come to think of it, she had come with me to the Murim Alliance.
But there was no need to search for her. I was headed to meet my father, and I wouldn’t be returning to the Murim Alliance. The fewer people accompanying me, the better. I borrowed the Jong Iwabot from the guards at the front gate and wrote a letter to Myung Jaehee, telling her to return home first, then set off.
***
Thud. Thud. Thud. As the ground shook, one by one people went flying and crashed into the wall. Some even hit headfirst and passed out—which was actually enviable. The Hyeongsanpa elite warriors who were kicked in the chest by the sect leader were in such pain they could barely breathe.
“I gave you a whole month, and all you found was a sighting in Zhejiang?”
Ong Jin-su, apparently not satisfied with just that, strode toward the intelligence agents pinned to the wall. They struggled to stand, barely able to keep their balance.
“And then Jusampa immediately attacked the Hwanggeum Family? Do you really think there’s no connection between those events, with your empty heads?”
“No, sir. But after Jusampa failed to attack the Hwanggeum Family, they were swiftly annihilated, so the intelligence…”
The intelligence agent, barely able to stand, was struck again by Ong Jin-su’s club-like hand and collapsed. Blood was trickling from his ear as he lay limp.
“You worthless scum!”
Ong Jin-su simply could not understand. The last sighting of Ong Mungyu and the Samh Dae Jejadeul had been near Namchang by the Hwanggeum Family, and Ong So-hu was reported alone in Zhejiang days later.
They were elite warriors, and the sons of the sect leader of Hyeongsanpa. There was no reason to suspect they’d fall into danger, so no extra effort had been made to search for them; he assumed they’d return in due time. Of course, he was fully prepared to give them a severe beating for returning late.
However, only after hearing belatedly about Jusampa’s attack on the Hwanggeum Family did Ong Jin-su rush to search for his missing sons.
He had no idea what had happened in between. It was strange that Ong So-hu had been spotted alone in Zhejiang, strange that Jusampa, which had been lying low, suddenly attacked the Hwanggeum Family, and strangest of all that the Hwanggeum Family had managed to fend off the attack.
And as if that weren’t enough, Jusampa, after expending over half its strength on the attack, was instantly annihilated by the Murim Alliance for the crime.
He couldn’t figure out what was going on, and he was worried that Ong So-hu might have been caught up in it all. If it were discovered that a sect of Hyeongsanpa’s standing had consorted with the dark side, the consequences would be dire.
Years of volunteer work and relief efforts to get Hyeongsanpa into the Gupailbang would be ruined in a single morning.
“First, find out the whereabouts of my sons. Even if they’re dead, bring me proof of their deaths. If not, you’ll die in their place.”
Ong Jin-su’s voice rang with murderous intent. The battered intelligence agents stood at stiff attention.
“Understood!”
After the intelligence agents left, Ong Jin-su surveyed the wrecked sect leader’s room. Broken flowerpots, torn landscape paintings, bloodstains.
It felt as though a dark plot was hanging over Hyeongsan. That rotten stench. Ong Jin-su had seen every kind of filth during his time as sect leader—sometimes even committed it himself. He recognized this feeling immediately.
But who, in their right mind, would dare touch the Hyeongsanpa, the lord of Namak?
Something had to have happened to his sons. No—it needed to have happened.
Only then would there be justification.
Whoever it was, they would have to pay for daring to touch the great Hyeongsanpa.
***
It took less than a day to reach Red Cliff. I had already absorbed all the Haemo Pill, turning it into my own energy, and even my qi circulation felt perfectly smooth.
I couldn’t sprint from Wuhan to Red Cliff without rest, but with some adjustment, I could keep using lightness skills all the way.
Perhaps because it was the day I’d used my movement techniques the longest in my life, my Bangchuk Gwimae Sinbeop had even reached the level of Three-Star Accomplishment.
“Red Cliff’s Bongchuam.”
It was my first time in Red Cliff, but the place, once the site of a great battle, had become something of a historic relic.
I needed to pass through Bongchuam, then Baepungdae, and finally reach Wuhou Palace.
Among the genius descendants of the Je Gal Family, Je Gal Gongmyeong was said to be the greatest of all. Wuhou Palace, built in his honor, was even said to be protected by a Jinbeop crafted by Jegalheon himself. That Jinbeop now served as the Murim Alliance’s safe house.
Jong Ri Un had offered to use the Pawhebeom to break the formation for me. I asked how long it would take, and he said about half a shichen, so I declined.
It wasn’t that a slight delay would endanger my father’s condition, but I didn’t want to waste any time.
Now, at last, it was time to see my father.