Chapter 18
Chapter 18
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Chapter 18
-----------------------------------------------------------------
```html
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: What Are You Aiming For?
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Little Sparrow was drenched in sweat.
It had been two shichen—four full hours—of diligently practicing the Scattered Flowers Sword and Flying Swallow Eight Wings that her eldest senior brother had taught her. She'd watched up close as he thrashed her second and third senior brothers, and she had zero desire to end up the same way. So she'd trained without a single distraction, pouring every ounce of effort into it. That was the reason for her current disheveled state.
“Morning session's done! I worked so hard, even eldest senior brother can't say a word against it!”
Muttering to herself in satisfaction, Little Sparrow returned the wooden practice sword to its rack and picked up her own sword, neatly hung off to the side.
“Someday I'll draw you. Just hang in there until then.”
She stroked the hilt and scabbard lovingly before slipping the sword through her open window and heading off to wash up.
But not long after, someone utterly unexpected arrived, led by a maidservant. Little Sparrow froze in place, her eyes wide with shock. It was Byeon Ryeo-gun, the martial world's Woman Leader—the very person she'd longed to even exchange words with.
“Hello. Do you have a moment?”
Even her voice sounded beautiful.
Little Sparrow's eyes went round at the question.
“You came to see me?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“If it's alright, I'd like to chat for a bit.”
Byeon Ryeo-gun approached with a gentle smile. Little Sparrow hurriedly stepped back. Noticing this, Byeon Ryeo-gun halted and gazed at her.
“I'm a total mess right now. I need to wash up.”
Little Sparrow made a pouty face as she spoke.
She'd idolized Byeon Ryeo-gun even in her dreams and yearned to share words with her, but standing close like this in her sweaty state? She'd just end up stinking of perspiration.
Only then did Byeon Ryeo-gun catch on and let out a soft laugh.
“If you don't mind, shall we wash together? It's awfully hot today.”
“Really?”
“As long as you don't feel guarded around me, I'd love to.”
“I'm not guarded at all!”
Little Sparrow rushed forward. She turned to the maid who'd brought her guest.
“Hyang-ah, I'm going to wash with sister, so bring some fresh clothes and towels over there, okay?”
“Yes.”
As the maid departed, Little Sparrow flashed Byeon Ryeo-gun a bright smile.
“Let's hurry. You'll love it there too—the water's super refreshing.”
The spot Little Sparrow led Byeon Ryeo-gun to could almost be called the Iron Lion Sect's inner sanctum.
“It's incredible!”
Byeon Ryeo-gun gasped in awe.
They'd carved a sheer cliff into the sect's back mountain, channeling streams to form a small waterfall. Massive boulders dotted the area, crafting a scene straight out of a breathtaking landscape scroll. Elevated slightly, it stayed hidden from prying eyes unless someone peered down from above the falls.
“They say the Sixth Iron Lion—who adored the Flying Swallow Immortal—made this place himself ages ago.”
Beaming as she spoke, Little Sparrow clasped her hands reverently and bowed deeply before the rock elegantly inscribed with Flower Pond.
“I came with a guest today. Please forgive me—she suits you far better than I ever could.”
A moment later, she spun around with girlish energy.
“No senior brothers come here anymore since I claimed it. Quick, into the water!”
“You first. I'll observe a little decorum before joining.”
“You better come fast!”
Byeon Ryeo-gun nodded at Little Sparrow's eager prodding. Finally, Little Sparrow dashed to the water's edge and began shedding her clothes.
Her smooth, lithe figure emerged, every bit the blooming teenage girl. Byeon Ryeo-gun watched for a brief moment before turning away.
Flower Pond.
A pond cradling flowers? Or one where flowers pause to rest?
Either way, the carver's heart shone through.
That aching tenderness of unspoken love.
“Yi Gun-ok...”
Byeon Ryeo-gun murmured the name softly—the Flying Swallow Immortal, sixth among the seven Iron Lions who'd founded the Iron Lion Sect.
Right then, Little Sparrow's voice rang out.
“Sister!”
Byeon Ryeo-gun turned to see her waving enthusiastically, beckoning her over.
Byeon Ryeo-gun walked toward Little Sparrow.
“Hurry and get undressed and in! It's so cool.”
Submerged to her neck, Little Sparrow splashed playfully as she spoke.
“This place is too sacred for an outsider like me.”
Byeon Ryeo-gun replied.
Little Sparrow halted her splashing, her face falling in disappointment.
“Then at least sit here while I wash.”
“It'd be embarrassing alone...”
Little Sparrow mumbled.
Thoroughly let down, she stared for a moment before her eyes sparkled.
“Then... could you take off your face veil? I want to get closer to you, but I don't even know what you look like.”
Little Sparrow knew it was a bold ask. Still, she yearned to see—to bond. Rejection meant that was that.
Yet...
“If there's giving, there must be taking.”
“Huh?”
“I'll show my face, so you tell me about yourself too, Little Sparrow.”
“About what?”
“Your senior brothers.”
“Senior brothers?”
“What kind of man is your eldest senior brother?”
Heaven-Rending Legion Kang Yi-wi's gaze bore down on Ha Gun-pyo, his expression pure ice.
“Pathetic worm!”
“Forgive me.”
Ha Gun-pyo flattened himself to the floor.
Pathetic indeed—but before his master, prostration was the surest path to avoiding ire.
“Step back from that affair for now.”
Ha Gun-pyo jerked his head up at Kang Yi-wi's command.
“If not me, who will you entrust it to?”
“Must I spell it out for you?”
Kang Yi-wi's face chilled further.
“Forgive me.”
Ha Gun-pyo bowed low.
“Return to Gui Province until summoned again.”
Gui Province held the Tyrant Emperor Sect's stronghold—a clear order to bear full blame and withdraw utterly. Harsher than anticipated. Some hidden intent, no doubt.
Ha Gun-pyo bowed once more and retreated.
“Idiot! You think that seat's yours eternally? Can't grip what's thrust into your hands—utter failure!”
With Ha Gun-pyo gone, Kang Yi-wi vented freely. Brooding with a scowl, he bellowed aside.
“Fetch Yo-hee.”
Half a gak later, a alluring woman sauntered in, hips swaying.
“You wanted me?”
“You go.”
“Where?”
“Changsa.”
“Heard Gun-pyo slunk back half-dead. Things soured, huh?”
“Enough prattle. Confirm if it's the man he spotted in the chamber. If yes, pry out whether he holds the Generation's Heavenly Demon's ultimate arts—by any means.”
“Then?”
“Slay him.”
“Just like that?”
“Securing the arts matters less. Ensure no one does.”
“Why not raze them all?”
“Easy as it sounds? Righteous factions in the mix—if the knower slips away, what then?”
“Heaven-Rending Legion frets over loose ends?”
“Generation's Heavenly Demon arts. No lip—go.”
“Yes. On it.”
She turned and sashayed from the hall.
Kang Yi-wi dubbed her Yo-hee. The world knew her as the White Rakshasa.
The intel Clear Dawn Escort Leader Yeo Mun-rak gleaned from Yoo Merchant Group wasn't straightforward, nor wholly gratifying.
Dongting Lake's waterways had indeed opened—that much was clear.
Someone backing Yoo had crushed Dongting Lake Waterway Stronghold by sheer force. Trouble was the unknown identity. Plus, the elder merchant puppeteering Changsa's trade was maneuvering for those routes.
Hence, a three-cornered war.
Yoo Merchant Group gripping the waterways, the tycoon's vast wealth, and Clear Dawn Escort Agency.
Clear Dawn alone couldn't match that fortune.
Thus, White Sword Sect.
“I know you said not to come unbidden, but events spin wildly fast. Delay, and Dongting Lake's waterways slip away forever.”
The alliance marriage with White Sword offered them a vital leap. Waterway profits would fuel their expansion.
They'd bungled into Iron Lion Sect at a pivotal moment, reeling from the blow—but Dongting Lake was separate. No yielding here.
“We'll investigate.”
One White Sword elder declared.
“Yoo won't name their patron.”
“Ask Dongting Lake Waterway Stronghold's lord outright.”
“Feasible?”
“Foes always find common ground.”
What surer source than those who'd yielded the routes?
Yeo Mun-rak nodded, hope flickering.
“If money bought it for Yoo, outbid freely.”
“So be it.”
- Hmm, eldest senior brother has two faces. Or maybe two personalities fits better. When he's strict, he's really strict—like a yaksha on steroids. But day-to-day, he's this easygoing big bro. Listens to everything, even laughs when I pinch his cheeks.
- What, why ask about that punk? If you're into him, quit now. Face's meh, talk's tacky, personality's a nightmare. Guys gotta be hearty like me—nope. Always pounding folks; steer clear to save your pretty mug. Who's the kid? Steward's hire? Working? Ditch the veil.
- Secret Shadow Pavilion Lord of the Great Righteous Alliance? Eldest senior brother's my guide. Mum's the word beyond that.
Such were the tales of Do Cheon Byeon Ryeo-gun gathered from the three disciples she'd met. With even his closest juniors divided like that, pinning down his true nature only grew murkier.
“If you're digging that openly, why not ask him straight?”
As Byeon Ryeo-gun stewed in confusion, Do Cheon arrived.
He settled casually, exuding nonchalance.
Infuriating!
Her fine brows furrowed faintly.
“Ask away. Nice weather—might squeeze out an extra tidbit.”
He grinned. Not mocking, but grating all the same.
“I saw the note you left.”
“...!”
Do Cheon's easy demeanor cracked. His smugness faded; Byeon Ryeo-gun smiled faintly, relishing the small victory.
She'd landed a hit, seized control. Time to press.
“You know why we're here?”
“Beats me. Never heard.”
“We're hunting a man. Ah, not just righteous sects—Kang Yi-wi's evil faction too. The whole world's after one soul. The one who fled like a desperate mutt from right near where you left that note.”
“Desperate mutt wouldn't flee. He'd mark the spot.”
“He returned after three years. Flaunting transformed skill. No shade on Iron Lion Sect, but three years ago? Impossible. Meaning: he gained astonishing arts in those three years. Right?”
“If it's the old sect, sure.”
“Walls around your note? Shattered. Iron Lions' legacies carved there? Or staged to fool us? Speak. What arts did you claim?”
“Whatever I got, isn't this meddling excessive?”
“Meddling? Yes. Excessive? Sure. But the world won't see it that way. Generation's Heavenly Demon arts? Hand 'em over—or else. Hell-spawn devil arts unfit for the unworthy; they'll strike without mercy.”
“Scary stuff.”
“Scarier? Even claiming only Iron Lions' arts won't fly. Just being there damns you irrevocably. No choice—you need an ally.”
“Ally?”
“I erased your note. No one else saw; no one knows. I speak? Righteous and evil crush you. Ah, that escape artistry? You'd slip free. But Iron Lion Sect? They'd suffer hell.”
“Sharp mind—till you mistake grasping the world's thinking.”
“Meaning?”
“I never flee. Ever. Your erasure? Leverage to threaten me—or for me to threaten you.”
“Could be.”
“Why hide from your superiors?”
“Wanted you all to myself.”
“Sounds like more.”
“Reasons need be singular?”
“Fair. Hiding from above and evil alike—when they learn, you're cornered. Royally!”
“True. I'm cornered. Better than you, though.”
“Suppose so.”
Do Cheon nodded readily.
Byeon Ryeo-gun stared hard, inwardly affirming.
He'd foreseen it all!
His calm screamed it: he hadn't come; he'd summoned them.
Why? What's his angle?
Incomprehensible. Talent to return that mighty after three years? Five more in seclusion, and first under heaven beckoned.
“Tell me. What are you aiming for?”
Byeon Ryeo-gun asked, deadly serious.
Her intense gaze pierced through the veil. Do Cheon met her eyes steadily and grinned.
“You think every worldly affair hides schemes and plots.”
“Doesn't it?”
“Dunno. I'm not that clever...”
“I know you drew me here. So tell me.”
```