164. The Essence of Shadowy Strife (4)
The inauguration ceremony for the Tang Ma Army unfolded far more grandly than anyone had anticipated. It was worlds apart from the Myeol Sa Army's modest debut.
Moyong Woo, the Tang Ma Army Leader, stood at the forefront, every one of his five hundred warriors clad in fine ceremonial armor and armed with regulation weapons. The onlookers couldn't help but marvel at the Tang Ma Army's imposing splendor.
They hadn't undergone any real training yet, so each soldier brimmed with individuality, but the stern aura they exuded was more than enough to earn them the title of elite troops.
And leading them was Moyong Woo, the undisputed highlight. Countless spectators gazed in awe at his dignified bearing and chilling presence.
Thus, the Tang Ma Army's inauguration came to a close.
Of course, the day wasn't devoted solely to them. Afterward, inauguration ceremonies for various organizations under the Martial Alliance followed one after another. The event, which had begun at noon, didn't wrap up until sunset.
As the interminable ceremonies ended, a festival erupted immediately. Warriors gathered in clusters, indulging in drink and meat amid a lively atmosphere.
The Myeol Sa Army was nowhere to be seen amid the jovial gathering.
* * *
"Hahaha!"
On the way back to his residence, Moyong Gun burst into hearty laughter, unable to contain his delight.
"Well done. Truly splendid. I knew you were no ordinary man, but to engrave your presence so firmly before all those eyes."
Moyong Woo smiled faintly.
"It was just a show."
"Many fall behind precisely because they can't put on such a show. With your straightforward nature, it must have been a trial, but these are necessary steps."
"I understand."
"Hahaha!"
He truly seemed in high spirits. His laughter hadn't ceased from the grand hall all the way here.
Moyong Woo bowed his head.
"Then I'll take my leave."
"Hm? Where to? Tonight, let's drink until we're both thoroughly soused."
"The Tang Ma Army is a formidable force. But a unit that fails to cohere is nothing but a rabble."
"Surely a night off wouldn't hurt?"
"I'll let the troops rest, but I cannot. Only if I handle my duties properly will the Tang Ma Army shine. And only by reining them in swiftly can I become a true asset to you, brother."
"What? Hahaha!"
Moyong Gun's smile brimmed with satisfaction.
"No need to push yourself so hard. You'll manage just fine on your own."
"Trouble always brews when everyone lets their guard down in excitement. For my own discipline, it's best I spend tonight alone."
Moyong Gun smiled. His brother was right. Enemies strike when their foes relax. Though the Martial Alliance had no true adversaries, such vigilance was hardly a flaw.
"If that's your thinking, so be it. Who am I, as your elder brother, to stand in the way of such resolve?"
"Thank you for understanding."
"One thing before you go."
"Speak."
Moyong Gun asked slyly.
"Any thoughts of joining with the Tang family head's daughter?"
It was one reason for his buoyant mood. Moyong Woo had accepted Dang Sang-a into the Tang Ma Army. While other units varied, in a private army, the leader's word was absolute. Had he refused, she wouldn't have joined.
Moyong Woo smacked his lips. It wasn't his preference, but having accepted her, he'd see it through.
"No matter how fine someone seems, it's hard to know their true face after one meeting. Her first impression wasn't bad, and her skills are exceptional—she'll be an asset to the Tang Ma Army."
"Kuhahaha! Well done, truly well done."
Now he had something to say to Dang Gwan. He'd dragged that issue out for far too long. It felt like a nagging tooth finally pulled.
And he admired the boldness: even a future spouse could be leveraged for gain.
'I judged that one right.'
Excellent. Splendid. Lately, Moyong Woo—who had kept a low profile—was proving his mettle in earnest. Moyong Gun couldn't have been more pleased with his brother's emergence.
"Night's deep. Don't overdo it."
"Understood."
Moyong Woo bowed.
"Rest well, brother."
"Aye. Let's share a midday meal tomorrow."
"Yes."
With that, Moyong Gun sent Moyong Woo off and turned toward his residence, still chuckling.
How long had he walked? As the grand gates came into view...
'......'
Frost settled on Moyong Gun's beaming face.
Tzztztzt.
A subtle presence wafted toward him, prickling his senses. A terrifyingly profound energy. Though restrained, its lethal edge seeped over the walls.
An aura even peak masters would struggle to detect. Beyond absolute peak, past Mujongjibyeok—it demanded hyperdeveloped senses and dense qi to perceive.
'Interesting.'
A cold smile crept across Moyong Gun's face.
'Visiting at this hour. Always defying expectations.'
Moments later, he reached the gates. Simultaneously, a youth emerged from the shadowed interior.
"Been well?"
Moyong Gun smiled. The chill had vanished, replaced by effortless poise.
"And you?"
"As you see."
Yeon Hojeong spread his arms. His billowing robe fluttered like wings.
Moyong Gun's eyes deepened.
'A mad dog remains a mad dog.'
His lithe frame hid densely packed muscle. Draped in such refined robes, his aura differed yet again— like a lofty scholar of noble ideals. Hard to imagine him wielding an eighty-geun behemoth of an axe.
"What brings you here in the dead of night?"
"Too many eyes otherwise."
"Something to discuss?"
Yeon Hojeong grinned.
"They called it a grand festival, but I haven't wet my lips with a drop. A consoling cup from the man who sidelined the Myeol Sa Army would be appreciated."
Moyong Gun cut straight.
"No consolation for you."
"Stiff as ever."
"Haha, do you think us the sort to share drinks with smiles?"
"Not so estranged you can't pour one cup."
An odd remark. Moyong Gun sensed a peculiar undercurrent in Yeon Hojeong's words and demeanor.
'Not here to scheme, it seems.'
Since the Myeol Sa Army's formation and his play with Mong Ui, their paths needn't cross. Each pursued desires from their stations—that was all.
'You know that well enough.'
Yeon Hojeong was a genius of conflict, martial or political, seizing victory with deft maneuvers. Bold to a fault, unswayed by trifles. No vessel to whine over exclusion.
Enemy though he was, Moyong Gun respected him.
'Then demanding something? Or...'
Yeon Hojeong smiled.
"Curious? Come inside."
As if reading his mind. Moyong Gun chuckled.
"Can't serve mere liquor to the Myeol Sa Army's head. Enter. No consolation, but fine wine awaits. Got some good stuff lately."
"Sounds good."
Moments later.
"Ho, hefty aroma."
Moyong Gun roared with laughter.
"Sichuan's Five Grains Liquid. Heavy body, yet a strangely light finish."
"Sichuan's famed brew?"
"From the Tang family head."
Yeon Hojeong snorted.
"No need to hide it now?"
Moyong Gun replied nonchalantly.
"Why bother when you already know?"
"Bolder than before."
"Same as ever. Just revised my view of you."
"Upward adjustment?"
"Indeed."
"Honored."
Moyong Gun raised his cup with a smile.
"To that."
Clink! The cups rang clear and pure.
Yeon Hojeong drained his in one gulp and coughed roughly.
"Stronger than expected."
"You'll forget the bite as you go. This is average."
"I see why it's famed."
"Aye? I rarely drink, but this could make a sot of me quick."
"Plenty? I'd like to indulge."
"Kuhaha! Worry not. Enough to floor you."
Yeon Hojeong grinned.
"Haven't scrubbed the throat like this in ages."
They traded cups freely. Surprisingly, no talk of worldly affairs or politics. Just mundane daily matters and hitherto unknown facets of each other.
A peaceful drinking bout. Like a martial world elder treating a promising junior.
At least on the surface.
How much time passed?
"Know what I mean?"
"What?"
"I've thought it now and then. Ah, I want this one under me, at my side."
Yeon Hojeong snorted.
"We're different breeds."
"Think so? Surprising. I see us same kind."
"Do you?"
"We are. Hard to find our brand of savage in today's martial world. You and I—beasts stalking chances for a scrap of flesh."
Beasts? Resonance there. Their brutal political war was predators clashing. Seeming refined, yet writhing with base hungers to ruin foes and claim aims.
Burning life for purpose was right. Yet did they need to fight so viciously?
The beastly brawl humans alone could wage. No righteousness for Yeon Hojeong or Moyong Gun.
"So I ask."
Moyong Gun's eyes gleamed.
"Won't say join me—you're no subordinate. But allies? What say you?"
"Join hands..."
"Yes."
A staggering offer. Moyong Gun chose; he wasn't chosen. Especially when faring well.
It bespoke high regard for Yeon Hojeong. And pity: such fearsome talent wasted brawling him, when diligence could summit faster.
Yeon Hojeong smiled faintly.
"Just in case."
"Hm?"
"When I topple you someday, it'd be nice if you saw the light. I regret your waste of ability too."
"Haha."
"Guess we're fated to scrap."
Moyong Gun snorted.
"Really just here for drinks?"
"Gotta have nights like this. Right?"
"Fair, but we're beasts, no? Not the aimless-visit sort."
"True."
"Out with it. What do you want?"
"Thinking of taking the easy road."
"Meaning?"
Ting, ting. Yeon Hojeong tapped his empty cup with a fingernail.
"The man who gave this wine."
"...?"
"Set up a meeting. Feels like he'd shut the door in my face."
"Dang Gwan?"
"Yes."
Interest sparked on Moyong Gun's face.
"Grant that, what do I get?"
"I'll guard the Tang Ma Army Leader."
"...?!"
"Yielded the stage, but pondered his fate."
"Hm."
"Shield, not sword. At least this once."
Moyong Gun snorted. Pure Yeon Hojeong.
"My good mood profited you today."