The Traces of Mount Huang
The Demonic Cult.
Known to its own followers as the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, they were the eternal nemesis of the Central Plains Murim.
Even the ever-jovial Hong Jong could not maintain his easygoing smile whenever the subject turned to them.
"Are you aware that in the past, the Central Plains Murim once bowed before the Demonic Cult?"
Namgung Yun gave a simple nod.
Seeing as it was Yun himself who had forced the entire martial world to its knees in his previous life, there was no way he could fail to know.
"And do you know that even before that, the Demonic Cult launched a massive invasion across the Central Plains?"
Yun nodded once more.
That would have been during the era when he was feared across the land as the Unfeeling Sword Demon.
"Good. At least you know that much. Back then, the cult's onslaught dealt a catastrophic blow to the Central Plains. The entire realm was trampled under their boots, and countless sects suffered devastating losses."
'I certainly killed a great many people back then,' Yun thought privately.
"Yet in the end, their offensive stalled. The Central Plains narrowly avoided total subjugation. Anhui Province, where your Namgung Clan resides, was fortunate enough to escape being trampled underfoot."
'I simply didn't march as far as Anhui,' Yun mused.
It had purely been a matter of distance, not a lack of ability. Had internal strife not fractured the Divine Cult from within at that pivotal moment, Anhui would have fallen soon after.
"Even so, the losses your clan suffered were no less severe than those who were directly attacked. The Namgung Clan refused to turn a blind eye to their righteous brethren. They championed the virtues of righteousness and chivalry, fighting on the front lines against the Demonic Cult more fiercely than anyone else."
Indeed, Yun thought. That was precisely the Namgung Clan he remembered from his past life.
"Naturally, the entire martial world sang the praises of the Namgung Clan. But once the war came to an end, everything changed. Regrettably so."
Human nature was ever thus: people only found the leisure to look after others once their own survival was secured.
"The devastated sects were consumed with cleaning up their own messes. Putting aside the rebuilding of collapsed halls, their absolute priority was raising new disciples to restore their lost strength as quickly as possible. The Namgung Clan was in the exact same position. However, the situation surrounding your clan differed fundamentally from the rest."
When other sects suffered ruin, their local rivals in the same region were ruined alongside them. But the Namgung Clan had been the sole major power in Anhui to sacrifice its martial strength for the greater good.
That single difference altered everything.
"The Namgung Clan found itself facing immense suppression from all sides. The other sects and local powers within Anhui had no desire to see the Namgung Clan reclaim undisputed hegemony over the province. Naturally, your clan reached out to the wider martial world for assistance, but nothing ever came of it."
Human beings ultimately cared only for their own immediate interests.
"The other sects flatly rejected your clan's appeals for aid. They had no resources to spare, and more importantly, they desperately coveted the patronage and support of the rising factions who sought to keep the Namgung Clan in check."
"And I presume," Yun said calmly, "that the foremost among those rising factions was the Anhui Mo Clan?"
"They were the prime example."
Now, everything clicked into place.
Yun finally understood why Namgung Su harbored such open venom toward the Shaolin Temple and the Zhuge Clan. From the perspective of the Namgung Clan, they had poured their blood into saving the realm, only for their kindness to be repaid with cold betrayal. Yet they could not simply sever ties with the rest of the world. No matter how proud the Namgung Clan was, unlike the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, an orthodox family could never survive in total isolation.
"In any case, ever since that war, the Namgung Clan has looked upon most of the righteous sects with cold contempt. The Flash Thunder Sword's blatant disdain for the emissaries from Shaolin and the Zhuge Clan is merely an extension of that ancient grudge."
"I see. Thank you for explaining it to me."
"I'm glad if it helped. On that note... may I ask you a question in return?"
"As long as it is something I know, ask away."
"Knowing the bitter reality of this history, do you still intend to uphold righteousness and chivalry?"
For someone who felt a genuine sense of belonging to the Namgung Clan, hearing such a story would have left their chest burning with indignant fury.
'Too bad I don't harbor any such clan devotion,' Yun thought.
His pursuit of chivalry was nothing more than a path to attain the supreme enlightenment he had failed to reach as the Heavenly Demon.
"I do."
There was not a flicker of hesitation in his response.
Hong Jong burst into a hearty, booming laugh. "Gwahaha!"
The expedition to locate Yoma's hidden sanctuary was assembled without delay.
There was no reason to stall. The Anhui Mo Clan had no desire to host the Namgung Clan in their territory a moment longer than necessary, and the feeling was entirely mutual.
The party turned out to be quite large. Five martial artists represented the Namgung Clan, accompanied by three each from the Shaolin Temple and the Zhuge Clan. To assert their territorial dominance, the Anhui Mo Clan dispatched twenty of their own warriors, while Elder Hong Jong and the Anhui Branch Manager tagged along from the Beggars' Sect.
Leading the Mo Clan detachment was a familiar face: Mo Seok-heon. Taking the crude map handed over by Namgung Su, he furrowed his brow in blatant disdain.
"What a pathetic excuse for a map. Still, you needn't fret. I already have a likely location in mind. Mount Huang is essentially our back garden."
With that boast, Mo Seok-heon took the lead alongside his clan's warriors.
The mountain path was steep and rugged, but because every member of the expedition was an accomplished martial artist, they traversed the treacherous terrain at a swift, effortless pace. In truth, even an ordinary person willing to suffer through some exertion could have managed the climb.
'Considering that Seo Won-gil stumbled across the place before he even knew a shred of martial arts, it couldn't possibly be hidden in some inaccessible, lethal valley,' Yun reasoned.
Before long, Mo Seok-heon halted his steps. He glanced down at the map once more, then swept his gaze across the rugged surroundings.
"It should be somewhere around here."
Weaving through a maze of jagged boulders, Mo Seok-heon paced back and forth, examining the terrain. Soon, he called out.
"Over here."
At the base of a towering, sheer cliff face, a small cave entrance yawned in the shadows.
"This is the place," Namgung Su said curtly. "Let us enter at once."
"What is the great rush?" Mo Seok-heon sneered. "It's not as though the cave has legs and will run away."
"Nor is there any reason to squander precious time idling about."
A sharp spark of friction flared between the two masters.
Fortunately, there were mediators present specifically to prevent bloodshed. In fact, one of the Murim Alliance's primary reasons for dispatching representatives was to act as a buffer between the two volatile clans.
"Amitabha. If neither of you benefactors wishes to take the lead, would you object if this humble monk steps inside first?"
At Won Jin's serene intervention, Namgung Su and Mo Seok-heon looked away from each other with audible scoffs.
"We shall take the lead," Mo Seok-heon snapped.
"Do as you please."
"Wait, hold a moment," Zhuge Min intervened, stepping forward with a cautious gesture. "There may be hidden mechanisms or formations guarding the entrance. It would be wiser for our Zhuge Clan to examine it first..."
"Unnecessary."
Mo Seok-heon brushed right past Zhuge Min, stepping brazenly into the cavern mouth without so much as a glance.
"Traps and formations can simply be shattered with raw might. Though I suppose those who lack the strength to do so have no choice but to fuss over trivial parlor tricks."
"What did you say...?!"
Zhuge Min and the other disciples of his clan bit their lips until they bled from the sheer humiliation. Yet neither the Namgung Clan nor the Shaolin monks uttered a single word of protest against Mo Seok-heon's caustic mockery.
'A fine mess the Orthodox faction has become,' Yun observed dryly.
At this rate, even the cutthroats of the Unorthodox faction would have displayed better camaraderie.
The party filed into the depths of the cavern.
Contrary to the Zhuge Clan's concerns, there were neither hidden dart traps nor defensive arrays to bar their way.
"So this is the den where Yoma hid himself?"
"There's nothing here."
The interior matched Seo Won-gil's confession to the letter.
Aside from a rotting wooden cot and a decrepit desk, the place was virtually barren. The subterranean chamber itself was remarkably cramped. Dispersing throughout the area, the martial artists combed every corner of the shelter, but their efforts yielded nothing.
"Forget secret manuals; there isn't even a scrap of paper left behind."
"Have you found anything over there?" someone called out to the Zhuge Clan members, who were tapping meticulously along the stone walls.
"We see no traces of hidden mechanisms or hollow passages," Zhuge Min replied stiffly. "It appears this single chamber is all there is."
"Tsk. Useless, as expected."
Mo Seok-heon clicked his tongue in blatant mockery once more. And once again, the Zhuge Clan swallowed the insult in bitter silence.
'Hmm... should I step in here?' Yun pondered.
Would standing up for the Zhuge Clan in this situation count as an act of chivalry?
'Then again, those Zhuge Clan fellows are supposed to be martial artists too. If they lack the spine to speak up for their own dignity after being insulted to their faces, aren't they partially to blame?'
Had Mo Seok-heon bullied helpless commoners, Yun would have shattered his jaw without a second thought. But because the targets belonged to a renowned noble clan, Yun found himself caught in an unusual dilemma.
Should he intervene? Or should he stay out of it?
Just as Yun's thoughts grew tangled, a fresh conflict thankfully cut his indecision short.
"Could it be that the Namgung Clan is withholding information from the rest of us?"
Mo Seok-heon turned a venomous, suspicious glare toward the Namgung contingent—specifically fixing his eyes upon Namgung Yun.
"What nonsense is that supposed to mean?" Namgung Su growled.
"I merely wonder if you are deliberately spinning lies in order to monopolize Yoma's martial manuals for yourselves."
"...Are you deliberately picking a fight with our Namgung Clan?"
The Namgung Clan was not the passive Zhuge Clan. The moment Mo Seok-heon threw down the gauntlet, Namgung Su bared his fangs in return.
"If anyone here smells foul, it is your Mo Clan," Namgung Su retorted coldly. "You have long boasted that Mount Huang sits entirely within your sphere of influence. Yet a senior elder of the Demonic Cult established a secret lair right beneath your noses. And it wasn't even hidden in some remote, impassable chasm, but a mere hillside cave that an ordinary peasant could reach! Are you claiming you truly failed to notice it all these years?"
"Mount Huang is vast and rugged," Mo Seok-heon countered sharply. "No matter our vigilance, we cannot monitor every single stone. Calling it our back garden was mere rhetoric—a figure of speech anyone might use to describe their domain. Or are you telling me your clan maintains absolute surveillance over every corner of Mount Cheonju?"
"We certainly manage our lands far better than you do."
"Is that why you allowed a vermin like Seo Won-gil to kidnap your children and operate right under your feet?"
"..."
"..."
A suffocating killing intent descended upon the chamber. Men from both the Namgung and Mo Clans quietly shifted their grips to the hilts of their blades.
"Let me make one thing abundantly clear," Won Jin declared, stepping between the two factions with a voice like a reverberating temple bell. "Whichever side strikes the first blow shall face the full might of Shaolin."
Thanks to the monk's stern intervention, open bloodshed was averted once more. Yet the air between the two great families had turned far frostier than before. The fact that a devout Buddhist monk had resorted to an outright threat of violence rather than gentle persuasion spoke volumes about how close they had danced to disaster.
Having defused the imminent clash, Won Jin let out a faint, weary sigh and addressed the gathering.
"Let us conclude our investigation for today. Tensions have flared, and continuing further under these circumstances will only invite needless conflict."
Seeing the wisdom in his words, the others reluctantly concurred.
Over the days that followed, the search continued tirelessly across the surrounding slopes. Yet not a single shred of new evidence came to light.
"It appears nothing remains in this place," Won Jin finally concluded, gathering the leaders together. "Whatever legacy Yoma left behind was entirely inherited by Seo Won-gil, and we must assume it perished alongside him at the hands of Young Master Namgung. Would you not agree?"
"I concur," Zhuge Min replied.
"The Beggars' Sect agrees as well," added the Anhui Branch Manager.
Won Jin turned his gaze toward Namgung Su and Mo Seok-heon. "I propose we officially close this investigation. Does anyone hold an objection?"
Neither man voiced dissent.
"Then this matter is hereby concluded."
Just like that, the investigation drew to a close.
An empty, anticlimactic feeling hung over the party. Given that they had been investigating the revival of Jiangshi—a horrifying terror thought to exist only in ancient legends—the outcome was dreadfully hollow. Yet without further clues or leads, there was neither justification nor purpose in lingering on the mountain.
Heavy with disappointment, the martial artists stepped out of the cavern and began their descent down Mount Huang.
At the mouth of the cave, Namgung Yun paused and cast a glance backward.
The scattered rocks and fractured boulders framing the entrance appeared utterly unremarkable to the untrained eye, resembling the natural detritus found on any hillside.
Yet hidden within that seemingly random arrangement, Yun's discerning eyes caught the faint, lingering remnants of an array.
There was a simple reason why Namgung Yun had identified what even the esteemed masters of the Zhuge Clan had failed to perceive.
'A formation technique of the Divine Cult...'
Etching the pattern deeply into his memory, Namgung Yun silently turned and followed the descending group.
"We depart at first light tomorrow."
Having spoken those curt words upon their return to the guest quarters, Namgung Su retreated straight into his room. His every movement radiated an unyielding desire not to spend a single unnecessary breath in the territory of their loathsome rivals, the Anhui Mo Clan. The other Namgung martial artists shared the exact same sentiment.
"What a thoroughly disappointing conclusion," Hong Jong grumbled, scratching his matted beard.
As a man who thrived on high-stakes turmoil, such a bland, uneventful resolution left him deeply underwhelmed. Perhaps because of his foul mood, the old beggar, who had spent the entire trip glued to Yun's side, turned on his heel and retired early to his assigned quarters.
Yet late that very night, the stifling silence was violently shattered.
An Anhui Mo Clan messenger burst into the estate's courtyard, his frantic, breathless shout echoing through the dark halls:
"A new suspicious cave has been discovered on Mount Huang!"