A Pack of Scoundrels
Several sects climbed the mountain peak in scattered clusters, making their way to the place where the Wonhu Sect had convened a gathering of factions.
"…The other sects are giving us some rather pointed looks."
Un Song-byeok, walking at the front, muttered this and cast a sidelong glance at Han Yuhyeon.
Even he had to be surprised. He might have expected Yuhyeon to push back when provoked—but never that the man would go around picking fights so brazenly and mass-produce enemies in the process.
"Things just sort of worked out that way. Being from Yeongil-ju, we were definitely getting a lot of flak."
At Han Yuhyeon's shamelessly confident reply, Baekri-wan, walking beside him, let out a short sigh—the kind that said the lie was so blatant she refused to play along.
"I heard a little about it myself. Disciple Han allegedly faced the inner disciples of nearly half the sects that showed up to the gathering and beat them all. Truly remarkable, is it not?"
Geum Wi-hyeong, who had been listening quietly, chimed in. The comment was meant to make Un Song-byeok feel proud. The old Un Song-byeok would certainly have offered praise—an inner disciple of the Baekun Sect defeating the inner disciples of other sects was, after all, a boost to their name.
But Un Song-byeok's reaction was oddly lukewarm.
"Mm. Yes. Well done. But as far as I know, the inner disciples of So-ui-ju sects are at least Qi Condensation 10-star. How did you manage to defeat them?"
"I even took down the So-cheong Bandit Leader, who was at Completion. The late-stage ones after that were easy."
"…When you put it that way, I have nothing left to say."
Un Song-byeok was clearly uncomfortable with Han Yuhyeon now. Yuhyeon could feel it. That undercurrent had formed the moment he defeated the So-cheong Bandit Leader.
Only a few months ago, Yuhyeon had been an outer disciple with trash-tier spiritual roots—someone not worth a second glance. Now he was demonstrating an absurd growth rate and taking down cultivators whose realms far outstripped Un Song-byeok's own. Of course the man was uneasy.
"Ahem, ahem. Still, thanks to you, the other So-ui-ju sects no longer seem inclined to look down on the Baekun Sect. When we first arrived, they picked a fight the moment we set foot here, did they not? Truly an achievement worthy of reward."
"As is only proper."
At least Un Song-byeok was not denying that Yuhyeon had raised the Baekun Sect's name. He said as much, and Geum Wi-hyeong chimed in agreement.
"I have nothing suitable to give you at the moment, so we shall discuss your reward once we return to the Baekun Sect."
Un Song-byeok said this and patted Yuhyeon's shoulder. For that moment, his expression genuinely looked proud. Yuhyeon answered with a modest, grateful smile.
What are you thinking?
For an instant, Han Yuhyeon's sharp eyes swept over Un Song-byeok.
If Un Song-byeok had not killed Elder Mun Il-pyeong right in front of him, Yuhyeon would not have been this wary. Even now, he could not fully tell what kind of demon lurked behind that smiling face.
So Han Yuhyeon climbed the peak while maintaining a subtle tension and distance with Un Song-byeok.
At the summit was an unnaturally flat stretch of ground, as though a massive blade had sheared the mountain range clean. Someone had clearly used a technique or artifact to carve out this plateau.
Even after the Baekun Sect arrived, several more sects climbed onto the peak.
A cultivator from the Wonhu Sect stood on the central platform, looking around as if counting heads, then nodded.
Han Yuhyeon tried to gauge the man on the platform, but it was not easy. He seemed to be a fairly high-ranking cultivator even within the Wonhu Sect.
"It appears nearly everyone is here."
True to his word, no more sects arrived after that. Once it was confirmed that every invited faction had come, the cultivator on the platform cleared his throat. It was only a cough, yet every person on the open ground heard it with crystalline clarity—a technique not unlike the Six Harmonies Voice Transmission of the martial world.
"Welcome. I am Gu Jin-seo, an elder of the Wonhu Sect."
The cultivator who introduced himself as Gu Jin-seo looked around and continued.
"Our Sect Master will appear shortly. However, his health is not what one might hope, so it seems this elder will be hosting the gathering. My deepest apologies to the sect masters in attendance."
No one could object to Gu Jin-seo's words. Of all the factions invited here, none was stronger than the Wonhu Sect.
Just look at the guest list—from the So-cheong Bandit Stronghold to the Baekun Sect of Yeongil-ju. They had deliberately selected the powers they would invite, and yet they carried on with such natural composure that one could only think, Yes, this is the cultivation world.
They had summoned only those weaker than themselves. Were they gathering a pack of underlings just to play at being kings? For now, he would have to keep watching.
"As stated in the letters our sect sent out, the fundamental purpose of this gathering is fellowship. Of course, that is not all. From this point on, our Sect Master will come out and explain the rest himself."
With Gu Jin-seo's words, an old man was helped up onto the platform. He looked as though he had been bedridden for a long time—every muscle wasted from his limbs, each step a visible struggle. This withered elder was the Sect Master of the Wonhu Sect? Anyone could see he was a cultivator with one foot already in the grave.
The sight was a shock not only to Han Yuhyeon but to the cultivators of the other sects as well; intermittent murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"Is that really the Sect Master of the Wonhu Sect?"
"Yeah. But he's gone downhill a lot since ten years ago. I didn't recognize him at first either—once I knew it was him, though, I could see it."
Even Yuhyeon was doubtful enough to quietly ask Baekri-wan beside him.
"Was he like that ten years ago too?"
"Ten years ago he was still robust. You could see the first signs of aging even then, but at least he could walk on his own two feet. When a cultivator's realm stagnates and they fail to break through within the allotted time, they age like that. Nothing unusual about it."
Baekri-wan answered as if it were nothing—though the way she spoke made it sound as though she had known the Wonhu Sect Master's face ten years ago.
Han Yuhyeon stared, almost entranced, at the Wonhu Sect Master. The game had never rendered graphics of aged cultivators like this. Players had no reason to care about the final fate of cultivators who failed to break through within their allotted lifespan. They simply got a skull icon and died.
Thinking about it, the game had omitted a great many things for the player's convenience and entertainment.
Something heavy stamped itself into Han Yuhyeon's heart once more. This was a world. And from now on, he would live in it. The world would also keep showing him far more scenes he did not want to see than ones he did—him, and everyone else who lived in it.
"Mmm… Welcome. I imagine some of you are startled to see me after so long. I am Yang Mok-i, Sect Master of the Wonhu Sect."
He was barely projecting his voice with spiritual energy, and given his physical state, the sound was unstable and laced with so much of a metallic rasp that it was unpleasant to hear.
But seeing a cultivator on the brink of death stirred complex feelings in everyone present, so of course they listened carefully.
"As you can all see, this Sect Master failed to break through his realm and now faces death. I managed to climb as far as Foundation Establishment 4-star, but the fifth star simply would not open no matter how hard I tried. Who would have thought a hundred and fifty years would pass like that?"
Between his appearance and his trembling voice, the atmosphere was that of a last will and testament, and everyone listened with solemn attention. Yang Mok-i continued.
"I harbor a grievance. Think of it as the grumbling of a man about to depart, and hear me out a little. As things stand, the cultivation resources of So-ui-ju are concentrated in the hands of a few sects and noble clans. I myself am the master of a sect, and yet the resources available to attempt a breakthrough were woefully insufficient—that is what I mean."
He broke off and coughed violently. The fit was so severe one almost feared his lungs would rupture.
"That is precisely why I have gathered all of you. I say this without meaning offense, but none of you belong to prestigious clans or great sects either. Not one of you has cultivation resources to spare."
So the Wonhu Sect had deliberately summoned only the weaker powers. Now it was time to hear the reason.
"There is an old saying—even a sheet of paper is lighter when two people lift it. And there is also the proverb that one man's wisdom cannot surpass that of two. In the end, mid- and small-scale powers like ours must band together."
"Band together how, exactly? You are not suggesting we merge our sects entirely, are you, Sect Master?"
Someone asked Yang Mok-i. He slowly turned his head to look at the cultivator who had spoken.
"A fine question. Indeed. Even so, each faction has its own artifacts and the techniques it primarily teaches—how could those ever be unified? Ultimately, there is only one thing we can pool."
Yang Mok-i paused briefly. For a man about to die, it was a rather strategic technique. By stopping mid-sentence, he drew every eye and ear.
"Spirit stones and other goods. Cultivation resources, in the end. That is the only way we can stand against the great sects and noble clans."
"Ohhh!"
A few people responded positively, but Han Yuhyeon crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. They would not know the term, but the tragedy of the commons had sprung instantly to mind.
Deciding who would manage those common goods, how, and where would be a nightmare in itself. And given the average personality in the cultivation world, the probability of corruption was not merely high—it felt like a mathematical constant.
Of course, not every cultivator had an empty skull. The same reasonable doubts Yuhyeon had just formed were poured out at Yang Mok-i.
"If we pool everything together like that, some sects will contribute more and others less. Naturally every sect will be far more eager to take than to give, will they not? This is not unity—it seems more like a foolish plan that will only breed cracks."
Han Yuhyeon glanced sideways at Baekri-wan. Behind her mask, she wore a look that said she found the whole thing pathetic. Yes—anyone who thought about it for even a moment could see it made no sense.
"It doesn't make sense, does it?"
"It doesn't."
Yuhyeon asked so only Baekri-wan could hear, and her answer came at once.
"But it will work because it doesn't make sense."
"What?"
Yuhyeon tilted his head at Baekri-wan's sudden remark. At that moment, the master of some cultivation sect bellowed at the top of his lungs.
"How can Sect Master Hwang turn his back on the greater cause? Thinking only of yourselves is far too selfish!"
"Apologize!"
A bizarre situation unfolded in which the sect master who had just spoken was suddenly hit with concentrated fire. Had the NPCs of this other world secretly been granted a special perk that made them stupid?
"In the end, once everything is collected, they just plan to skim it off. Through corruption or through force—either way. The sects agreeing here are all confident. Confident, at least, that they themselves will not be the ones taking the loss."
"…Ah."
Baekri-wan's explanation drew a soft exclamation from Han Yuhyeon. Worrying about getting fleeced was not the first priority—assuming the fleecing as a baseline and planning the next move from there was truly the cultivation world's average. Today, once again, Han Yuhyeon took a loss to the cultivation world's average.
They were not gathering as weaklings to stand against the strong. They were lining up to fleece the other weaklings. The whole spectacle was no different from a pack of scoundrels.
"Well then? Is this Sect Master's idea not a fine one?"
Yang Mok-i laughed heartily. The sects confident enough to do the fleecing here—including the Wonhu Sect—were the relatively strong ones. Naturally the relatively weak could not speak up even knowing they had walked into a trap. A wrong word and they might die on the spot.
The Baekun Sect was among them, so Un Song-byeok kept his mouth carefully shut. Baekri-wan, on the other hand, was scanning the situation with genuine interest, eyes rolling from face to face.
Han Yuhyeon also glanced around, reading the flow. To be honest, he was not particularly worried about the Baekun Sect suffering. He was leaving that group anyway.
Then, from Yang Mok-i's mouth, came words that made Han Yuhyeon's ears prick right up.
"And so, to further deepen the fellowship among our alliance of mid- and small-scale sects, our sect wishes to hold a technique demonstration tournament. How does that sound? Naturally, there will be substantial prizes as well."
"We would hear the prizes first, Sect Master!"
A technique exhibition. It was an event he had occasionally run into in Yeonhwa Seonrok. This would be the first since his transmigration, and Han Yuhyeon's interest stirred.
"Since I have spoken of cultivation resources today, it seems only fitting that the prizes should also be cultivation resources. Our Wonhu Sect will put up a Cloudwater Heart."
Everyone was stunned. Han Yuhyeon was no exception. A Cloudwater Heart was a top-grade material required when forming a Foundation Pill. For the wood element, there was the Great Wood Essence Baekri-wan had given him; for the water element, there was the Cloudwater Heart.
No matter how much Yeonhwa Seonrok let you buy everything, if something could be obtained for free, of course you took it.
Han Yuhyeon's greed sensors flickered to life and began to spin.