Return to Hometown (6)
Half a day later.
“Heh heh, it’s been a while since you’ve visited my humble abode, hasn’t it?”
“Has it?”
“We’ve been out of touch lately. I think the last time was just before the Tang Ma Myeol Sa Army set out.”
“I tend to forget the little things quickly.”
Still as prickly as ever. Moyong Gun smiled faintly.
To Moyong Gun, Dang Gwan’s rough, bristly personality was a source of vitality. The man clearly possessed considerable wisdom and coping skills, yet he made no effort to hide them. To Moyong Gun, who had spent his life concealing himself, striking from the shadows, and laying traps to lure enemies, Dang Gwan— who had reached the pinnacle of his clan through his frank and arrogant nature—was a rather mysterious figure.
“Here, have a cup. It’s Yongjeong tea.”
Dang Gwan handed over a cup and asked, “You said there wasn’t much left.”
“Heh heh, I only serve this to esteemed guests. I don’t partake personally.”
“If it’s an esteemed guest you mean Jegal Munho?”
Jegal Munho—not the Jegal family head or the Jegal strategist, but Jegal Munho. Dang Gwan’s arrogance remained unchanged.
Moyong Gun nodded. “Of course, the Jegal family head is also an esteemed guest.”
He acknowledged it straightforwardly. Dang Gwan, who had been quietly observing Moyong Gun, took a sip of his tea.
“Was it arranged beforehand?”
The question came out of nowhere, but Moyong Gun understood immediately. “You mean regarding Yang Cheon?”
“Yes.”
“Not long ago, the Jegal family head and the Yeon family head came to me. They wanted advice on how to investigate Yang Cheon without being detected.”
“And you told them?”
“I did.”
“Why? Have you suddenly taken a liking to reconciliation with them?”
It was certainly unexpected. Was it because their personalities differed? Or perhaps because the asuras they had faced were different? Moyong Gun hadn’t anticipated such a sharp reaction on this point. The man truly invigorated him in every way.
“Reconciliation... What if we did? Letting them lower their guard, then striking them spectacularly from behind—it’s not a bad strategy, in my opinion.”
Moyong Gun smacked his lips and continued. “Though, seeing this side of me, I doubt they’d let their guard down. They’d probably grow even more suspicious.”
Dang Gwan’s eyes, sharp as Hakjeonghong poison and piercing as Storm Pear Flower Needles, softened slightly.
“You’re not actually trying to join hands with them?”
“They’re not the type to take my hand even if I offered it.”
“I understand your point well enough, but for smoother conversation, a direct answer would be appreciated.”
Moyong Gun smiled. “I haven’t joined hands with them. They are targets I must topple, or sacrificial lambs for my ambitions—nothing more, nothing less.”
Dang Gwan nodded. “I’ll take that to mean a temporary alliance.”
“Precisely.”
Dang Gwan took another sip of tea. The deep, refreshing aroma relaxed his body and mind.
“But is he truly that dangerous?”
“Yang Cheon, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“How can a man of your insight ask such a thing? The Thirteen Seats of Heavenly Execution are all monsters who shattered human limits. And Yang Cheon occupies one of those seats as the strongest warrior among them.”
“I’m well aware. But martial prowess and intellect are separate matters, aren’t they?”
Moyong Gun spoke in a bitter tone. “Truth be told, I too thought Yang Cheon was just a thug good at brawling—until I received reports on him.”
“So he’s got brains as well?”
“Monster or not, he’s no one to handle carelessly.”
Dang Gwan’s eyes darkened deeply. No one to handle carelessly? For Moyong Gun to say that meant the opponent was far from ordinary.
Thus far, Moyong Gun had deemed only two people monsters. But those two were promising youths brimming with potential, not fully forged great vessels. They weren’t true calamities beyond bearing.
In other words, Moyong Gun’s high evaluation of Yang Cheon was extraordinarily high.
“Is that why you stepped forward?”
“Hm?”
“That’s why you negotiated with them to take command of this operation?”
Moyong Gun chuckled. “I wasn’t opposed to negotiating, but they proposed it first.”
Dang Gwan frowned. “The Jegal Munho side?”
“Yes.”
“What scheme does that fox have in mind?”
“No scheme. Not this time.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“He’s not bold enough to jest about a matter this grave.”
“Hm. Then conversely, the Jegal side might suspect you to some degree.”
Because in Dang Gwan’s eyes, Moyong Gun was someone capable of great boldness when necessary.
Moyong Gun shook his head. “They won’t drop their suspicions entirely, but this time, they trust me enough. That’s why they came in person.”
“Why?”
“Because the Jegal family head has some grasp of me.”
“Yang Cheon is that fearsome?”
A frost settled on Moyong Gun’s face—a rare expression. He was genuinely tense.
“Taming a pride of proud lions is a hundred times easier than coaxing quick-witted cats. Yet Yang Cheon accomplished the latter.”
“Unifying the Black Path.”
“As the Jegal family head mentioned in the meeting earlier, our intelligence lags behind the Black Path’s. But we ignored it because of one reason.”
“Because they never united as one?”
“Exactly.”
Moyong Gun’s eyes gleamed. “Whether Yang Cheon did it alone or with help doesn’t matter. What matters is that a lethal blade now looms over the entire Central Plains in his hand.”
“Hm.”
“A hundred hearings are no match for one sight, but I don’t trust that man Yang Cheon. He’s not one to openly ally with. To me, he’s a bomb that can never be an ally.”
The corner of Dang Gwan’s mouth lifted. “Meaning we have no choice but to form a united front.”
“That’s my view.”
Moyong Gun chuckled. “Power is a demon. Feed it and stroke it regularly, and it becomes a dog you can raise. But starve it here and there, and it starts seeing even its master as prey.”
“……”
“Even if Yang Cheon proves useful, I have no intention of allying with him. Why? The moment I do, the power I wish to cultivate will go mad and rampage like a rabid pup.”
“Power...”
“I want to be the one who masters power, not its slave, reduced to a ugly, greedy wretch.”
Like so many tyrants in history? Dang Gwan swallowed the retort that rose to his throat. This wasn’t the time for his habitual sarcasm.
Gazing steadily at Moyong Gun, Dang Gwan turned his eyes to the window and said, “He seemed pleased.”
“Hm?”
“Gong Gong-daesa. He looked so delighted watching you and that Yeon Hojeong brat chatting and laughing.”
Moyong Gun chuckled. “You knew?”
“Gong Gong-daesa is practically the elder statesman of the Bonggong Council. How sickening must it have been for him to see power-hungry crows squabbling in a leaderless hall?”
Sharp fellow. Sharper than expected.
Moyong Gun shook his head. “He came to me once and gave a warning before leaving. I answered and sent him on his way.”
“Just a novice monk strutting on the prestige of Mount Tai and the North Star. No point dragging it out.”
“You’re right. Gong Gong-daesa is a handleless treasured sword. No one to wield it, no one to attach a hilt.”
“Because it’s Shaolin?”
“Precisely because it’s Shaolin.”
Moyong Gun drained his tea. “Anyway, that’s my situation. What about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Yeon Hojeong. The skills he requested from your Tang clan artisans.”
Dang Gwan’s face soured. “He came yesterday.”
“Hm?”
“The shipment from headquarters arrived. Gifts to hand over to that damned fool and the Myeol Sa Army.”
* * *
Several wagons rolled into Pa Gun Pavilion.
“Hm.”
Yeon Hojeong examined the stacked goods on the wagons and smiled in satisfaction. “Good. Top quality, as expected.”
Yeon Wi asked, “From the Tang family?”
“Yes.”
“Let me see as well.”
Yeon Wi picked up a round ink-black steel plate, and surprise flickered in his eyes. “Incredible.”
“Isn’t it?”
“To process Man nyeon muk cheol so smoothly. The Tang artisans’ skills are truly unrivaled in the world—no exaggeration.”
“And look at the weight. They maximized lightness while maintaining strength.”
“An alloy?”
“Likely.”
Yeon Wi clicked his tongue in admiration. “Light armor for the entire Myeol Sa Army.”
Light armor naturally required far less iron than heavy plate. Typically, light armor was layered leather or cloth topped with metal plates.
But the armor on these wagons was different. The breastplate, arm guards, shoulder pauldrons, and greaves were all made from the Tang clan’s secret alloy with Man nyeon muk cheol as the base.
Lightweight armor designed for martial artists, retaining supreme durability with minimized weight. Perfect for nimble martial artists, imposing no restrictions on movement.
Muk Bi’s eyes sparkled. “I think just the breastplate and pauldrons would suffice for me?”
“No. Wear the full set.”
“Is it necessary?”
Yeon Hojeong nodded. “As long as the weight isn’t a major burden, it’s best to wear it all.”
“Why?”
“Armies, and even sects, mass-produce uniforms or standardized weapons to foster a sense of belonging. With thorough training and high morale, that builds group cohesion.”
“Group cohesion...”
Yeon Wi nodded. “Hojeong is right. The Myeol Sa Army is a force of disciples from the Nine Great Sects and Six Great Clans. They obey their army leader Hojeong well enough, but many still see their primary allegiance as their own sect, not the Myeol Sa Army.”
“Exactly. And from now on, we need to pay more attention to nomenclature. Exclusive Myeol Sa Army armor and titles. Even those small changes will make them stronger.”
“A fine idea.”
Muk Bi tilted her head. It was still hard for her to grasp.
Yeon Hojeong said to her, “You’ll handle it.”
“Me?”
“When I’m gone, you’ll train them.”
Muk Bi’s eyes widened. “M-Me?”
“I’ll give you the schedule and intensity. But you’ll need to adjust the progressive increases and proper rests yourself.”
“I... I’m not good at that sort of...”
“Do it even if you lack confidence. You’re the Myeol Sa Army’s vice leader. When I’m away, you’re in command.”
“Ugh.”
“One thing only: A leader understands the hearts of those below but doesn’t cower to them.”
Yeon Hojeong smiled. “I know you have the ability. Trust yourself and lead boldly.”
“Ahem.”
Yeon Wi asked, “We have about five days until departure. Anything to prepare in that time? Speak if there is. Father will help.”
“I’m fine. Just need to manage my condition.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Though...”
Yeon Hojeong gazed far to the west. Beyond the walls lay the inner sanctum of the Muryeong Alliance, teeming with countless halls. His thoughts turned specifically to the Tang family quarters.
“I’m thinking of bringing one more person.”