Chapter 35: Martial Alliance (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 35: Martial Alliance (3)
[I don't like him. His grandfather is one of the Eight Great Masters, not him.]
Sama Yeong grumbled, sending me a message via Secret Sound Transmission.
As expected of the daughter of the Moon Evil Sword Sama Chak, one of the Central Plains Four Great Villains, she wasn't particularly intimidated or cowed.
On the other hand, Jo Seong-won looked dazed, as if he had just survived a massive storm.
Ha Mun-chan and Lee Gyu, the two deputy leaders who had come to assist Song Jwa-baek and Song Woo-hyeon, were simply lost in awe at the divine skill displayed by the Ardent King Hegemon Jin-gyun.
It was then that Haeakcheon’s voice echoed in my ear.
[......Who was that?]
He had noticed.
Even from a distance, a master of Haeakcheon’s caliber would have seen the feat performed with a single drop of liquor.
[It was the Ardent King Hegemon.]
[And you speak as if it’s no big deal?]
Haeakcheon’s voice was heightened.
It wasn't fear; it was a clear sense of competitiveness and battle lust.
[What a pity. If it weren't for our current situation, he’s someone I would have loved to trade blows with.]
It was just as I expected. Haeakcheon wanted to challenge him.
[My apologies. I ran into him quite unexpectedly...]
[Hmph. Forget it. Your thoughts are transparent. You were probably worried I’d pick a fight with him.]
Judging by his tone, my worries were unnecessary. Even if he carried the alias "Bizarre," he wasn't foolish enough to indulge his competitive streak in the very heart of the Orthodox Martial World.
Rather, I found myself inwardly impressed by Haeakcheon.
‘I feel ashamed.’
—Why?
Among the countless martial artists, I had just seen one of the Twelve Superhumans who stood near the pinnacle. While Haeakcheon burned with the desire to fight, I honestly felt fear. I had been suppressed by the overwhelming pressure that came from such a stark difference in power.
—There is no need to be ashamed, Woon-hwi.
The Namcheon Iron Sword spoke soothingly.
‘Huh?’
—Even my former master, who was stronger than you are now, could not overcome the stronghold of the Eight Great Masters. Do not be impatient.
He was right. Reaching the realm of the Eight Great Masters wasn't something that could be achieved through haste. However, regardless of the opponent's strength or identity, I needed to learn from Haeakcheon’s fighting spirit—that fire that burned regardless of the odds.
Then, Haeakcheon sent another transmission.
[He’s here.]
Had the contact arrived?
Following Haeakcheon’s gaze, I saw a middle-aged man wearing a willow leaf saber approaching their table.
Ah! So he was the spy embedded within the Martial Alliance.
—Do you know him?
How could I not?
He was the high-ranking spy, Do Yeong-hyeon. He was one of the three team leaders with the longest service records among all the spies. He was a veteran who had been undercover for nearly nine years.
I remembered receiving basic training and a briefing on the current state of the Martial Alliance from him when I was first deployed as a spy around this time in my past life.
—He’s been here longer than you were.
Now that I think about it, that’s true. Even I didn't manage to fill nine years.
Spending nine years as a spy is by no means an easy feat. Among the many spies sent to the Martial Alliance, those who lasted more than five years could be counted on ten fingers.
And yet, even a man like him would die before reaching his tenth year.
[The end of a spy is already decided. Do not harbor great expectations.]
......The words he once spoke were still etched into my mind. He hadn't offered even a glimmer of hope.
Regardless, the help of the high-ranking spy Do Yeong-hyeon was essential for this mission. He served as the Vice Hall Master of Gowol Hall, which was responsible for guarding the outer perimeter of the fortress. His role would be crucial when we eventually seized the sword.
—Huh? He’s just passing by?
As the Lesser Conversation Sword noted, Do Yeong-hyeon didn't go to Haeakcheon. Instead, he headed toward a different shaded table. There were men already there who waved at him as if they had been waiting.
‘He’s doing it right.’
—Doing it right?
Unless it was the dead of night with no one around, who would be crazy enough to openly acknowledge an acquaintance in a place crowded with people? This was likely one of Do Yeong-hyeon’s pre-arranged contact points.
—What does that mean?
Long-term spies have multiple contact points. These locations are usually integrated into their normal routines or paths they frequently take with colleagues. Moving alone would only invite suspicion.
Those three men who had secured the table were likely fellow warriors from Gowol Hall. And they were probably regulars at this inn.
‘Now, he’ll scan the surroundings with a sidelong glance.’
—Oh? You’re right.
Just as I said, Do Yeong-hyeon quickly scanned the area. In that split second, I struck a specific pose. Not just me, but Song Jwa-baek at another table assumed the same posture.
—Ah. So that’s the cipher? To show who’s assigned to the mission?
‘Exactly.’
You have a good memory.
Meeting him indirectly at the contact point was to let him know who had been deployed for the mission. While names could be used, they could lead to confusion.
Do Yeong-hyeon scanned the surroundings naturally twice more. Now, it was done.
—Is that really enough?
‘It’s the basics of being a spy.’
You have to be able to memorize a face just by glancing two or three times. I can remember a face after one or two looks myself.
Having memorized our faces, Do Yeong-hyeon naturally touched his neck as if complaining about the heat.
I wonder who he’ll send the transmission to.
Ah...
Song Jwa-baek suddenly flinched and shifted his body.
How clumsy.
If there had been a spy-tracking unit here, they would have caught on instantly. Even Haeakcheon was clicking his tongue in annoyance.
After receiving the information at the contact point, we moved to a village located on the outer outskirts of the Martial Alliance's fortress.
Because the Martial Alliance saw so much traffic, a large village had formed even around the outer walls.
We were at an inn in the village. Three rooms had been paid for.
Entering the room on the far right, I pried up the third wooden floorboard under the bed. Hidden there was a piece of paper, folded to the size of a palm.
This was the current internal status of the Martial Alliance, hidden in advance by the high-ranking spy Do Yeong-hyeon. It contained detailed information ranging from the positions of the guards within the fortress to the most vulnerable spots and the guards' rotation schedule.
We spent half an hour memorizing the contents. Then, naturally, we burned the paper.
Once all preparations were complete, Haeakcheon spoke to us.
"From here on, only you lot can enter. I will remain outside the fortress until the final day of the Successor's Martial Discussion. Understood?"
"Understood."
Haeakcheon could not enter the fortress. Since it was a grand martial assembly, the titans of the Orthodox Martial World would be gathered there.
While masters capable of reading Haeakcheon’s energy sense were rare, the fortress currently housed Taoist Master Zhongxian, the Taiji Sword Emperor and the second of the Eight Great Masters, as well as Baek Hyang-muk, the First Sword of Wuhan.
Even if Haeakcheon used the Bone Shrinking Art and masked his face with a human skin mask, there was a high probability they would sense his true nature. Thus, he would not enter.
Only we would be infiltrating.
Once inside, our group would split in two. My team and Song Jwa-baek’s team would move separately, each aiming for victory in the Successor's Martial Discussion. It was agreed that if both of us reached the finals, Song Jwa-baek would yield.
Chak!
Haeakcheon unwrapped a cloth bundle and placed it on the table. Inside were two scabbards.
They looked ordinary at first glance, but these scabbards were slightly longer and thicker than usual. They were specially crafted with a hidden space inside to conceal another sword.
"I assume you know what needs to be done."
"Yes."
"From this moment on, do not let these scabbards leave your side."
"We will keep that in mind."
Taking the scabbard, I swapped the Namcheon Iron Sword into it.
—It feels like I’m wearing baggy clothes, Woon-hwi.
‘That’s because there’s empty space inside. Just enjoy the spacious house for now. You’ll have a roommate soon enough.’
"There are still about ten days left. You have something to do before then, don't you?"
"Yes."
As Haeakcheon said, there was a task to complete. Before the Successor's Martial Discussion began, I had to remove the rust from the blade of the Namcheon Iron Sword. Only then would everyone be able to recognize it for what it was.
Clang! Clang!
The sound of hammering metal echoed from all directions. The roar of bellows, intense heat, and the smoke rising from tempered steel filled the air.
I had come to the Blacksmith Street on the west side of the village.
The village outside the Martial Alliance's fortress was filled with things martial artists would love, and one of them was this Blacksmith Street. Unlike ordinary smithies, there were many artisans here who specialized in weapons. The person I was looking for was a master capable of working even with Cold Iron.
There were over forty blacksmith shops. If I went to a famous one, orders would surely be backed up, so I had to find a relatively quiet place.
—Can a quiet place really handle Cold Iron?
‘I have a place in mind, but...’
—But?
‘I don't know if it still exists.’
—What do you mean?
Before my regression, a legendary artisan appeared on this Blacksmith Street. He was a smith from a long line of sword-makers who became famous for repairing Ink Immortal, the cherished sword of Baek Hyang-muk, the First Sword of Wuhan and Leader of the Martial Alliance.
It was only natural to become famous after repairing the weapon of one of the Eight Great Masters. I remembered hearing that it was originally a place known only to those in the know. If it’s now, perhaps I can ask him for the favor?
—But don't they all look busy?
True. Perhaps because the Successor's Martial Discussion was approaching, every blacksmith shop seemed swamped. It looked like many others besides me were getting their weapons serviced.
Before long, I discovered a dilapidated blacksmith shop tucked away in the furthest corner of the street.
—Is that really the place?
While other shops had banners or tried to stand out, this place was incredibly shabby. I couldn't even hear the sound of metal being hammered from inside.
Then, the Namcheon Iron Sword spoke.
—My former master once said that life is like martial arts; the higher the realm one reaches, the less it shows on the surface.
—What’s that supposed to mean?
—Aren't many of the best restaurants often the ones that look the most run-down? My former master discovered many such hidden gems.
—Is there anything your former master didn't know?
—Ahem.
Well, even without the Namcheon Sword Guest’s wisdom, a place that isn't well-known is bound to be shabby. I’d know for sure once I went in and met the artisan.
As I headed toward the corner of the street, a series of sorrowful, phantom voices began to ring in my head.
—Please... please kill me.
—I can't live like this.
—I’d rather you melt me down.
I had heard these sounds before. Ah! Right. The sword Baek Hye-hyang held had made similar sounds. The sword had kept saying it wanted to die.
The phantom voices were coming from the shabby blacksmith shop. I quietly approached.
Zzzzz... Snore!
I stepped inside the shop, only to hear the sound of snoring. In front of the bellows, a man in his forties with a flushed face lay sprawled out, fast asleep with a liquor bottle in his hand.
‘What is this?’
The man was surrounded by piles of broken metal shards. Seeing the hammer lying next to the shards, it looked like he had broken them himself.
—.........
The chilling phantom voices were coming from further inside. Unable to overcome my curiosity, I ventured deeper. I had to know why such sounds were being made.
And when I stepped inside, I couldn't hide my shock.
'!!!'
There, over a hundred cracked swords were thrust into a massive, incense-burner-like vessel. Every single one of those swords had the exact same shape.
—What on earth are those?
I muttered in a voice thick with disbelief.
"Ink Immortal......"
The ruined swords thrust into the vessel were all Ink Immortal. No, they were swords made to replicate it.
Ink Immortal was the cherished blade of Baek Hyang-muk, the First Sword of Wuhan and Leader of the Martial Alliance.