Chapter 46 - Jang Cheon's Self-Reproach

Jo Yeong, the eldest son of the Jo family head who had practically been dragged here to enter the Muhakgwan, was sharing a meal with the three others who had come with him, chatting about this and that.

Several days had already passed, but none of them had even caught a glimpse of Yeon-hoo, let alone begun any training. Dissatisfaction was mounting among them.

"It seems the Muhakgwan was just a pretext to take us hostage after all."

"Damn it, what kind of mess is this?"

"Why don't you, Jo hyung, request a meeting? We at least need to know what's going on, right?"

All eyes turned to Jo Yeong. But he said nothing, merely fiddling with his chopsticks. In truth, no one was more frustrated than him, but having witnessed Yeon-hoo's terror, he couldn't muster the courage to act rashly.

"He'll start when the time comes. So put aside the complaints and just eat."

All he could do was feign composure, forcing himself to display the boldness he had always boasted about.

"We were counting on the Jang family, but they haven't even shown their faces yet. Damn it."

"I heard a rumor that the Jang family head was ambushed on his way back from the White Night Cartel and suffered severe injuries... He couldn't have met with misfortune, could he?"

"There are also rumors that he's faking it and staying put at the Jang estate to delay the grand assembly."

"Damn, I have no idea what's going on."

"I told you to stop worrying and eat."

"Aren't you worried at all, Jo hyung? We might end up as hostages for good like this."

Jo Yeong snorted.

"Then you shouldn't have come."

"At the time... we believed the Jang family would handle it somehow."

It was then.

Creak.

As the door opened, everyone turned their heads. Seeing Yeon-hoo enter, they all shot to their feet at once. Jo Yeong did the same, though he rose just a beat later, intending to show a stronger front to his companions.

"We see the lord!"

"We see... the lord."

"Why are you the only ones here?"

"The martial teachers are at the warriors' restaurant."

"Why?"

"The space here is too cramped..."

This laid bare the nature of their transactional relationship. They were paid to assist with training, nothing more—no master-disciple bond.

At that moment, murmurs rose from the back. The young masters' martial teachers filed in, then bowed their heads upon spotting Yeon-hoo.

"Come in."

"Sit, all of you."

A moment later, with everyone seated, Yeon-hoo continued.

"From today, this man will guide you. His title is instructor, but treat him with the respect due a master."

All eyes turned to Baek Mu Yeong. He greeted them simply by stating his name.

"Baek Mu Yeong."

They responded with awkward bows, sizing him up. To them, he didn't look like any expert—not even that long wooden stick seemed remotely impressive.

Yeon-hoo eyed the martial teachers. He could read their forced composure all too well.

One of them spoke up.

"May I ask what his weapon is?"

"This."

Baek Mu Yeong raised the stick in his hand, and contempt flickered briefly in everyone's eyes before vanishing.

The questioner pressed on.

"The four young masters' weapons are swords. How do you plan to instruct them... Are you saying you'll demonstrate sword techniques with that?"

Baek Mu Yeong didn't answer right away. Yeon-hoo stepped back, letting him handle it.

Baek Mu Yeong thrust out his hand toward Jo Yeong.

"Mind if I borrow your sword?"

"..."

To a warrior, the sword was life itself—not something lent lightly. As Jo Yeong opened his mouth to protest, Baek Mu Yeong snatched it away.

Clang.

He turned to the middle-aged questioner.

"You there—care to dance with your blade outside?"

Clang!

A clear ring of metal echoed as the broken sword soared high into the sky.

"No way..."

Jo Yeong's eyes bulged. The shattered blade belonged to his martial teacher—a Peak Expert whose sword had snapped on the sixth clash with Baek Mu Yeong.

Thud!

Whirr...

The blade quivered in the ground, whistling in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wind. The martial teacher's gaze shook with disbelief. But only for a moment—he squeezed his eyes shut and conceded defeat.

"I yield."

Baek Mu Yeong asked calmly.

"Am I qualified now?"

"...I acknowledge it."

"And you others?"

The other teachers exchanged glances, then nodded.

Jo Yeong's teacher asked stiffly.

"May I inquire about your title?"

"No such thing. Don't bother asking."

"..."

Baek Mu Yeong returned the sword to Jo Yeong and retreated behind Yeon-hoo. Yeon-hoo addressed the group.

"Once I start something, I never do it halfway. The same goes for him. From tomorrow, prepare to train like your lives depend on it. And you martial teachers—stay here and assist them."

"..."

With that, Yeon-hoo turned to leave. Baek Mu Yeong followed, but Seobaek remained. Flashing his signature grin at the still-stunned group, he said,

Sneer.

"Here's the schedule. Take one each."

"Are you an instructor too?"

"Not quite—just auxiliary support depending on the situation. You'll see me around a lot anyway."

Jo Yeong eyed Seobaek up and down with displeasure, then glared.

"How old are you?"

"Yeah. Older than you."

"..."

"See you tomorrow."

As Seobaek turned, Jo Yeong's martial teacher called out.

"That man earlier... he truly has no title?"

"Why wouldn't he? But my brother hates showing off."

"I can't fathom why a Murim warrior would hide his title. Is there some grave reason he can't reveal it?"

"We can't serve an unknown as instructor, can we?"

With even Jo Yeong chiming in, Seobaek furrowed his brow and stared them down.

"Judging by your attitudes, you're in for a rough time."

"..."

"Consider this a warning—that man's truly terrifying. Watch every word, action, even glance. See you tomorrow."

Shhh...

Jang Cheon, head of the Jang family, loved rainy days. Especially spring showers like today's—they always left him intoxicated by the mood, climbing the mountain behind the estate to sip tea in the pavilion.

Today, too, he tilted his teacup with his younger brother and chief steward, Jang Hoe. But his expression was far from bright.

Thud!

"He took the Jo family head's eldest son and the heirs of three sects to the Iron Blood Family?"

"Yes. He claims it's to create the Muhakgwan and train the heirs strongly, preventing them from following the Iron Blood Family's path."

Jang Cheon snorted.

"Do you believe that?"

"Of course not. It's clearly an excuse to hold them hostage... but he's more capable than expected. Suddenly, four factions have slipped from our shadow."

"We'll watch and see. If it's truly for training heirs, he might soon demand we and the others send ours too."

"He hasn't the guts for that. One misstep, and he'd earn hatred instead of loyalty—no greenhorn would miss that."

"True enough."

Jang Cheon crossed his arms, brow furrowed. Jang Hoe continued.

"Brother, you should enter soon. Letting him chip away at our power bit by bit will only make things harder later."

"I'll have to."

"When do you plan to?"

"Soon—"

Jang Cheon trailed off, looking up. A single warrior was rushing toward the pavilion—the family's intelligence chief.

"What is it?"

"The Elder Council Chairman was ambushed by assassins and gravely wounded."

"What?"

Jang Hoe asked in shock.

"Is it serious?"

"Quite dire, they say."

As Jang Hoe's eyes widened, Jang Cheon shook his head with a strange smile.

'If the Chairman falls, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Chief Elder succeeds him—we can pull the Elder Council firmly to our side...'

The Iron Blood Family's Chief Elder had long been allied with the Jang family—and was close to Lady Jang Yeong. His ascension would be a windfall for Jang Cheon.

"Brother-in-law, go check on him."

"Me?"

"Pay respects, gauge the mood, look into everything."

"Is it alright if I go?"

"Say my injuries haven't fully healed, so I'm still unwell."

"Understood. I'll depart at once."

Once Jang Hoe left, Jang Cheon turned to the intelligence chief.

"How goes the task?"

"As ordered—we've spread agents in major cities with the rumors. They'll spread slowly at first, but soon sweep the land like wind."

"Spend more if needed; deploy extra men. Always prioritize secrecy."

"Yes. Rest well."

Alone now, Jang Cheon sank deep into his chair, staring at the falling rain. A peculiar smile lingered on his lips.

"Things got messy with that unexpected truce with Northwest Murim, but now it seems something's finally going right. Heh heh heh."

Rumble.

Thunder rolled in the distance. As the gentle drizzle turned fierce, Jang Cheon drained his cup and rose. A guard hurried with an umbrella, but he waved it off.

"I feel like walking in the rain for once. I want to reflect—follow at a distance."

"Understood."

Shhh...

Jang Cheon walked through the downpour. Though he wanted to savor his favorite rain, Yeon-hoo's face surfaced, drawing a bitter grimace and wry smile.

"I took that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bloodthirsty pup for a fool and handed him opportunities without a second thought... Should've crushed him the moment he returned..."

It was a murmur laced with self-reproach.

Shhh...

The rain grew fiercer. How long had he walked when a presence approached from ahead? His distant guards flashed forward, blocking his path.

"Family head!"

Emerging from the woods was the intelligence chief who had left earlier. Jang Cheon's eyes sharpened. The man's grim face signaled trouble.

"What now?"

"A summons from the Punishment Hall."

"What?"

Jang Cheon ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠opened the scroll case, unrolling the letter.