Motley Crew (2)
“You’ve arrived.”
“Yes.”
“Care for some tea?”
“Haha, sure, let’s do that.”
A moment later, Moyong Gun and Mo Yong Woo sat across from each other at the table. Moyong Gun moistened his throat with tea and asked,
“How was the Geon Gon Baek Pal Geom Hae?”
“It was difficult.”
Moyong Gun smiled as if he knew everything.
“It’s the pinnacle of swordsmanship, distilled from centuries of the Moyong family’s history. I’ve trained in it for nearly twenty years, yet there’s still room to grow.”
“I knew it was an inexhaustible sword art.”
“You saw it well. Directions, sword force, speed, qi techniques—layer upon layer, endless.”
“Thank you once again.”
“Haha, no need for such stiff formalities between brothers.”
An odd statement. Moyong Gun meant it sincerely, but only because Mo Yong Woo had pledged his loyalty. If Mo Yong Woo had held out in Zhejang to the bitter end, he probably never would have seen it.
Better this way.
Moyong Gun had visited Mo Yong Woo several times over the past few days, engaging in lengthy conversations as if making up for lost time. But Mo Yong Woo knew the truth: his brother’s kindness extended only to those within his own framework.
I knew, yet I let myself get swept up for a moment.
The brothers’ bond had deepened—or so Moyong Gun believed, and Mo Yong Woo partly agreed. But remarks like this, laced with subtle unease, served as stark reminders.
Brother is dangerous.
His fleeting doubts hardened into resolve once more.
“Are you sure about this?”
“Pardon?”
“Leaving the Zhejang branch to your subordinates. You’ll be working under me for a while.”
Mo Yong Woo replied confidently.
“My men’s administrative skills surpass even mine. They’ll handle the branch’s operations better than I could.”
“Haha, is that so? If you rate them that highly, they must be exceptional.”
Moyong Gun nodded.
“We’ll bring him back to the main house later, depending on the situation.”
“Pardon?”
“Hm? Haha, why so surprised? If he’s your man, he’s family too, isn’t he?”
Mo Yong Woo gazed at Moyong Gun for a moment before nodding.
“You’ll like him too, brother.”
Moyong Gun’s thirst for talent knew no bounds. Yet it differed from the aggressive expansion of the Nine Provinces Families. He coveted talent but ignored it if it posed risks. That was why he’d built such a stable foundation.
Suddenly, Mo Yong Woo’s expression hardened.
“Brother.”
“Speak.”
“About what you mentioned before?”
“What do you mean?”
“The marriage……”
“Ah, the eldest daughter of the Central Plains Battlefield?”
Moyong Gun chuckled, stroking his beard.
“Don’t worry. I’ve seen her once before—she’s sharp-witted and stunningly beautiful. Young too, so she’ll make a fine match for you.”
Genuine bewilderment crossed Mo Yong Woo’s face.
“I’m not ready yet……”
“Haha, marriage isn’t such a big deal. Once it’s done, you’ll wonder why you ever fretted.”
That wasn’t the issue.
But to Moyong Gun, it truly seemed trivial. He himself had married based on background and ability. And the world worked that way. Peaceful now, but fragile—ready to shatter at any moment. In this unending age of chaos, marriage alliances with influential houses might be essential.
“Still, we can delay the wedding.”
“Pardon?”
Moyong Gun drew a golden document from his bosom. Mo Yong Woo’s eyes widened.
“That’s……”
“An alliance document, approved by the council of elders.”
“Is it alright to leak such a document outside?”
“Hm? Haha! This is still the Martial Alliance, isn’t it? Don’t worry so much.”
Leaking vital documents was a grave crime, regardless of rank.
He trusts me.
Mo Yong Woo studied Moyong Gun’s face. No trace of anxiety despite the breach.
He trusts it won’t matter even if caught.
Such boldness required ironclad foundations within the alliance. Moyong Gun was utterly confident.
In that short time, he’s allied with several sect leaders. At least four……
Fearsome. His prowess wasn’t just in martial arts or strategy. Moyong Gun excelled in politics, swaying even the giants of the murim world with their lifetimes of experience.
“Why the long face?”
“……It’s nothing.”
Mo Yong Woo read the document. His eyes flashed.
“The alliance’s organizational chart is complete. Of course, full restructuring will take time.”
“……The Independent Vanguard is swift.”
“Indeed. For the independent vanguards, we’ll select only the finest warriors from those joining the alliance. It’ll be a great asset to you.”
Mo Yong Woo’s eyes widened further.
“But the numbers don’t match.”
“Hm?”
“The personnel limit for my vanguard differs from Yeon Hojeong’s.”
Moyong Gun’s smile turned chilling.
“Of course. No need to allocate too many to that side, right?”
Mo Yong Woo’s vanguard limit: five hundred. Yeon Hojeong’s: a mere hundred.
“More troops don’t guarantee greater achievements. But when skill is equal, external factors tip the scales.”
“……”
“Disband or absorb their vanguard within the year. That’s your first mission.”
“Understood.”
Mo Yong Woo set the document down. His eyes wavered slightly, but his expression remained resolute—a sign of his self-assurance.
“But first, I have something to do.”
“Hm?”
Mo Yong Woo glanced out the window.
“I need to meet Yeon Hojeong.”
* * *
“Hmm, a hundred men.”
Yeon Wi sighed.
“I’m sorry. I did my best, but this is the result.”
Yeon Hojeong smiled.
“You weren’t fond of the vanguard idea from the start, were you?”
“That’s why I opposed it. But since it’s happening, I wanted to bolster your forces.”
“Haha, it’s fine.”
An amused glint crossed Yeon Hojeong’s face.
“A hundred as the limit……”
“The activity clauses make it seem sufficient.”
“It’s actually too many.”
“What?”
Yeon Hojeong tilted his head.
“I have no intention of filling all hundred spots. Of course, if worthy candidates appear, I’ll recruit them.”
Yeon Wi shook his head.
“I can’t fathom what you’re thinking.”
“I have one question.”
“What?”
“When can we deploy?”
Surprise flickered across Yeon Wi’s face.
“Already planning to take the vanguard out?”
“Of course. We didn’t need a full hundred anyway, but we’ve been outnumbered on paper. So we move fast and rack up merits.”
“Isn’t that too hasty? A vanguard needs a clear objective to operate.”
“We make our own objectives, don’t we?”
“……”
“……That’s what I’d say, but really, I think sticking to the righteous path is enough.”
“The righteous path?”
Yeon Hojeong’s eyes gleamed. The goal he’d envisioned since receiving the Independent Vanguard plaque from Moyong Gun.
“I plan to clean up the Black Path.”
“The Black Path murim?!”
“Yes.”
Probably the first time. Yeon Hojeong had never hidden his true intentions from Yeon Wi before.
“I’ll excise the vile Black Path factions sucking the people dry. And any threats to the common folk, Black Path or not.”
Not every Black Path denizen flaunted their affiliation. Those blatantly defying justice and committing clear crimes—what else could they be?
“Not a bad idea. No, it’s excellent. As White Path forces consolidate in the alliance, regional Black Path groups will grow bolder.”
“Exactly. We start by pruning those branches.”
“Hm.”
Yeon Wi studied his son’s face. Yeon Hojeong smiled faintly.
“Why the look?”
Yeon Wi knew. His son was hiding something. Now, he could read Yeon Hojeong’s every expression and glance. Their father-son bond had deepened that much.
“No other motives?”
“……”
No room for lies. Yeon Hojeong sighed.
“There are.”
“I see. That’s enough.”
And that was it. Yeon Wi burned to know more but didn’t press. If it could be shared, his son wouldn’t hide it.
He didn’t want to torment the boy. But one promise was in order.
“I trust it won’t stray from the path of righteousness.”
“It won’t violate my path, at least.”
An ambiguous reply. Yeon Wi nodded.
“Good enough.”
Yeon Hojeong sighed inwardly. He wanted to reveal the Mad Faith Three Sects, urge uniting not just the White Path Alliance but the Black Path too. But not yet.
Not yet. The time isn’t right.
His father, whom he’d longed to meet even in death—he’d believe anything he said. Still, not now. When the enemy’s form clarified, then it wouldn’t be too late.
Focus on my tasks first. Time is short.
Originally, the Mad Faith Three Sects invaded decades later. But history had shifted. Yeon Hojeong alone had saved the Yeon family from annihilation, hastened the Nine Provinces Families’ fall, and accelerated the alliance’s formation. Major changes.
They might invade sooner. Or never, due to some event. But……
If they’d prepared from the start.
It could accelerate, even if not immediate. That alone means no time to waste.
Yeon Hojeong estimated the enemy’s maximum leeway at ten years. Assume invasion within that—they were already pressed.
In ten years: Elevate Mo Yong Woo to alliance leader, forge White Path might, unify Black Path forces for war. That was his mission.
Heaven had granted him this second chance for that purpose. He truly believed it.
“In any case, no need to rush. We haven’t even settled recruitment yet.”
“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”
“Hm?”
Yeon Hojeong grinned.
“Not total weaklings, but free to roam the jianghu at will. Not sure how many, but at least thirty, I’d say.”
“Thirty……”
Yeon Wi’s eyes sharpened.
“You don’t mean……?”
That was when it happened. Both turned toward the window.
Yeon Hojeong stood.
“I’ll be right back.”
“……Looks like Moyong family.”
“Yes. My guest.”
The warrior approaching Pa Gun Pavilion: Mo Yong Woo.
Good thing I prepared.
Yeon Hojeong patted his chest, where a thick letter rested—for Mo Yong Woo.
I trust you’ll do well without me. Show them your full potential.
He told Yeon Wi,
“Just a quick talk.”
“Go.”
“And Father.”
“Hm?”
“Everything will work out. Don’t worry.”
Yeon Wi smiled. His once-awkward grin now looked natural.
“Don’t stir up trouble, you rascal.”