Setting Off for the Golden Merchant Group
Wall Thunder Manor's grand hall. Wi Yeon Gwang, his mood soured by a string of misfortunes, fixed his gaze on the entrance as Jang So approached, deliberately exuding an air of dignity.
"Jang So pays his respects to the lord."
"Come in."
"I am unworthy of such warm hospitality."
The hall was packed with nearly all the clan's leaders, a welcome grand enough to prompt Jang So to speak of hospitality. Yet the atmosphere wasn't purely celebratory. Many eyed him with the arrogance of superiors looking down on a subordinate, some even sneering openly. Word had spread that Jang So had killed his own father, Jang Cheon.
"So, the forces you brought number around fifty thousand?"
"Yes. These are elite troops meticulously trained at the main house. I dare say they'll please you, my lord."
The army Jang So had dragged along totaled seventy thousand, excluding the ten thousand lost in battle and twenty thousand left in the rear. Wi Yeon Gwang mistook it for fifty thousand, and Jang So didn't correct him.
"Whether they're truly elite will become clear in time... Anyway, that bastard Yi Yeon-hoo must now be the lord of the North."
"For the moment, yes. But with your aid, my lord, it won't be long before I drag him from his throne with my own hands."
"It had better be soon."
Strategist Yang So stepped forward. "I wonder if the Cartel will truly permit it."
"The Cartel clings to outdated notions of legitimacy. Even if he's Yi Yeom's legitimate son, it'll take time—perhaps it won't come at all."
"Then we must ensure it doesn't. Without their approval, we can keep the North in chaos."
"Handle it yourself, strategist."
"Yes, my lord."
Wi Yeon Gwang slammed the armrest and rose. "Enough! It's a rare joyous occasion—off to the banquet hall, all of you!"
Moments later, they entered a feast hall laden with dishes fit for an emperor. Wi Yeon Gwang seated Jang So at his side and grinned throughout the revelry. How could he not? Fifty thousand elite troops was a massive force—especially since they hailed from the thorn in his side, the North. It was tantamount to gaining a free army of one hundred thousand.
He boomed loudly for all to hear, "I regret the loss of House Jang's patriarch. But it was a decision for the greater good—no one can condemn you for it. If anyone dares sneer, report it to me at once. I will not forgive them."
"My thanks."
"Now! Raise your cups!"
Clink!
Everyone in the hall lifted their glasses.
"To welcome Lord Jang, now one of us, drain three cups each!"
Chu Yun Gwang, watching from behind Jang So, finally relaxed upon hearing the title Lord Jang. He'd been on edge the entire journey here. Though exile had been granted, he'd had no idea how much respect Jang So would receive.
As the mood warmed, a black-robed messenger entered the hall and whispered to Wi Yeon Gwang.
"Word from the Cartel... They've sent a document recognizing Yi Yeon-hoo as lord of the North."
Wi Yeon Gwang's face twitched.
"What?"
Yang So, seated to his right, looked stunned. "Approval this swiftly? It's unprecedented... The North must have connections the Cartel can't ignore. Otherwise, this couldn't happen so fast."
"The North, wielding influence over the Great Earth Sovereign? Impossible."
"I'll investigate thoroughly. I'll take my leave first."
"Find out exactly who it is!"
"Yes, my lord."
As Yang So withdrew, Wi Yeon Gwang downed cup after cup. His foul mood drained the banquet's energy.
Thud!
"That's enough for tonight! Guide this man to his quarters!"
Wi Yeon Gwang stormed out. Jang So and Chu Yun Gwang's faces hardened. The shift from lord to this man said it all.
Jang So began to doubt if fleeing to Northwest Murim had been wise. To flip like that on a mere whim...)
He'd heard of Wi Yeon Gwang's eccentricity but dismissed the rumors as exaggeration. His hatred for Yeon-hoo had swayed him toward the Northwest.
Should I have gone to Yellow River Lily instead?
As the alcohol soured in Jang So's veins, his face hardened like stone.
The Golden Merchant Group's headquarters lay in Wuhuan, Hubei Province—a distant journey of twenty days even on horseback from the Iron Blood Family. Yet Yeon-hoo took his time, planning to survey the North's corners along the way.
With Cheol-u still recovering, Yuksoon and Seo-wi-ryang accompanied him.
"Bringing just us will worry Elder Council Chairman Sama Song."
Yeon-hoo faintly smiled, recalling how he'd barely dissuaded Sama Song and Ancestor Hall manager Seok Cheong from sending more guards. It was the first time he'd truly felt like lord of the North.
Swaying with his horse's gait, Yeon-hoo scanned the surroundings. Farmers toiled under the sun in the checkerboard fields flanking the road, stirring a resolve to do better.
What do they think of me?
They lived apart from the murim world, yet as subjects of his North, they were tied to him. They hadn't recognized him yet—likely just saw a swordsman.
No rush. Proceed slowly, carefully, without gaps, building steadily toward my path.
Yeon-hoo drew a deep breath, reaffirming his vow.
"My lord, sunset's near."
"We'll stay there tonight."
"Yes. I'll scout an inn ahead."
"Seo-wi-ryang."
"Yes?"
"Don't reveal who I am."
"Understood."
Thud thud thud!
Seo-wi-ryang galloped ahead. Yeon-hoo and Yuksoon followed leisurely.
The approaching city buzzed with life from afar. Though the rebellion had ended mere days ago, passersby wore bright, vibrant expressions as if nothing had happened.
"This area's the granary," Yuksoon said. "They pay some of the North's highest taxes yearly."
"You knew that?"
"Now that you're officially lord, I must contribute where I can."
Yeon-hoo surveyed the city outskirts. Vast fields stretched from the road onward, rivaling the northern plains in scale. He'd passed through before, but viewing as lord made it anew.
"Expanding the granary would enrich the North."
"To grow stronger, we need to reopen the mines. Iron and gold are this era's greatest resources."
Mines were his first priority upon taking power. Restoring those abandoned near Northwest Murim's border could dramatically boost the North's finances.
"The Northwest won't yield those border mines easily... Why not just have the Blood King Army sweep them?"
"Not yet."
"Yes."
Soon, they entered the market street, teeming with crowds. Inns overflowed, and street vendors lined the way with lively energy.
Yuksoon whistled. "Whoa! A prosperous place feels different from the start."
Yeon-hoo felt inexplicably uplifted, his sense of duty deepening to keep smiles on those faces.
"My lord! Over here!"
Seo-wi-ryang waved from ahead. Yuksoon grimaced.
"That punk. What if he just yells 'lord' outright? Let's go, my lord."
Yeon-hoo ascended to the inn's top floor. It was spacious, adorned with rare curios. Patrons at the tables all appeared affluent.
"The chef here's famous, so I picked this place. Atmosphere's top-notch."
"Kid, isn't it too pricey?"
"You and I couldn't afford it."
"Fine. We're here—enjoy the food."
"Yes."
"Yep."
Yeon-hoo figured a lord of the North deserved such luxury. He had no interest in feigning humility or frugality for show.
After ordering dishes and wine from the waiter, as they waited, a conversation from the corner soured Yeon-hoo's mood.
"Heard a few days ago the young master of the prefectural governor slew House Jang's patriarch to become lord. Worried—he might turn tyrant."
"Yeah. They say he kills anyone who displeases him without mercy. Hung the old patriarch's father-in-law at the main gate—too cruel, even if..."
"Nonsense. That's lenient for a rebel leader. The real dogs are House Jang, fleeing to the Northwest with their army after losing the power struggle. First time I've seen such cowardice."
"Idiot. With your great-grandpa's head on display, could you bow and submit? I'd run too."
"Shut it. The Northwest? They've salivated over the North forever. No matter how precious life, you don't flee there!"
"Quiet, you fools. Who rules us doesn't matter. Just don't raise taxes."
"Tyrant or not, keep us fed, and I'll pray to Buddha morning and night for his long life."
"Me too."
The final words struck Yeon-hoo deeply. For common folk, not warriors, survival was paramount. Countless dynasties and powers had risen and fallen despite knowing this, failing to solve it. Even his father's era of endless wars and intrigues must have impoverished them.
"Shall I quiet them?"
"Don't bother. Just get the wine."
"...Yes."
Soon, Yeon-hoo quenched his thirst with the wine Seo-wi-ryang fetched. Dishes arrived, and they ate. As one plate emptied—
Crash!
"Argh!"
"Gah!"
Sudden clamor and screams erupted outside. Yuksoon sprang up.
"I'll check."
He rushed to the window. Diners surged over, drawn by the uproar.
"Seize them! Rebels!"
"Grab them!"
Yeon-hoo set down his cup and turned. Rebels?
Yuksoon returned. "City defense warriors caught a few Jecheon Army stragglers. Look like deserters."
Yeon-hoo dismissed it, reaching for his cup—then stood, sensing something off.
"Done eating already?"
"Keep at it."
Yeon-hoo stepped outside. In the street, five Jecheon soldiers knelt, city defense warriors glaring swords at their necks. As Yuksoon said, they were ragged, clothes stained with blood and food scraps—caught stealing grub, no doubt.
One warrior raised his sword.
"Hold."
Thud! Yeon-hoo flicked it away with a ground thrust and strode toward them.