Time of Resurrection (6)
“I see.”
Moyong Gun forced a wry smile.
“To interfere in the Martial Alliance Leader election... So that was it after all.”
Surprisingly, Yang Cheon answered Moyong Gun’s question straightforwardly. And watching him do so, Moyong Gun couldn’t help but feel an even greater weight on his shoulders.
‘He has nothing left to hold back now.’
The Muk Ryong Bu was still an organization that hadn’t revealed itself to the world. By now, that secrecy had all gone to waste, but at least the situation wasn’t completely irreparable.
In that case, Yang Cheon should have approached with more caution. Yet he hadn’t.
He was in extreme rage, craving the truth. He had come here himself, risking all his prior efforts going up in smoke.
And that proved one chilling fact.
‘I could die here.’
The moment he realized that unavoidable reality, Moyong Gun felt a chill sweat soak his back.
He had spent his life racing toward the pinnacle, and now that peak was right before his eyes. There were plenty of obstacles, of course, but he had meticulously prepared the moves to smash through them all.
Yet now, everything was at risk of crumbling to nothing.
“A truly bold and dangerous gambit. No different from gambling, really.”
“Now speak.” Yang Cheon lifted his chin arrogantly.
“Why attack our headquarters? From the circumstances, it seems you already knew of its existence. How much do you know? What did you hope to gain by provoking us? You didn’t seriously think the Moyong family could handle us, did you?”
It was an utterly arrogant tone.
Moyong Gun shook his head.
“The Moyong family’s power is the greatest among the Six Great Families. But even if half of what I’ve uncovered about the Muk Ryong Bu is true, we couldn’t hope to contend with you.”
Yang Cheon’s eyes flashed sharply.
Moyong Gun had just said ‘what I’ve uncovered about the Muk Ryong Bu.’ That implied the Martial Alliance might not even know of their existence.
“And yet you still poked the hornet’s nest? Why?”
For a split second, Moyong Gun nearly blurted out Yeon Hojeong’s name.
‘That spineless wretch.’
He ground his teeth at the thought of Yeon Hojeong.
Revealing his identity here would be the worst blunder imaginable. Yeon Hojeong had earned Yang Cheon’s trust in short order and even seized a key position in the Muk Ryong Bu. In other words, he had fooled Yang Cheon completely.
Even if he exposed the truth now, would Yang Cheon thank him? No—he’d explode in fury, kill Moyong Gun first, crush the Moyong family, and then declare war on the Martial Alliance.
At least, that’s what Moyong Gun would do. If a fight was inevitable, you had to weaken the enemy first.
‘I absolutely cannot let on that this was a Martial Alliance mission.’
He’d never intended to anyway, but now it was make-or-break. He had to frame the killing of the intelligence chief and the blasting of the entrance as his own unilateral decision.
What an absurd situation.
‘Did he see this far ahead?’
He dismissed the thought—even that seemed impossible—but a corner of his mind whispered it was entirely plausible.
‘A frightening man.’
Moyong Gun composed himself and spoke calmly.
“Similar intentions to yours, Vice Leader.”
“Similar to me?”
“Indeed.”
“Explain.”
“You sent the intelligence chief in my place, did you not? After speaking with him, I realized he was no ordinary thug.”
Yang Cheon’s face visibly twisted.
He’d tried to push it from his mind, but Jeong’s face kept resurfacing. That confident expression, paired with shrewd, cautious eyes—the face of a hidden dragon.
“...And?”
“But I didn’t know he was someone you valued. To be frank, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.”
“What?”
“You broke your promise, Vice Leader. Before the name of the Heavenly Thirteen Seats, even the Moyong family head’s title pales. But I am still the head of a great house and a contributor to the Martial Alliance. How could I not take offense?”
Yang Cheon’s eyelids twitched.
“You killed my headquarters’ intelligence chief over something that petty?”
“He was the one who poured oil on the fire.”
“...?!”
“A fine talent, no doubt, but still young. He couldn’t control his mouth. When he shows up unannounced to a meeting between two faction leaders, propriety demands an apology first—yet he provoked me instead?”
Moyong Gun’s eyes grew icy. Recalling Yeon Hojeong made his boiling rage nearly uncontainable.
“Anyone would have drawn their blade—not just me.”
Yang Cheon closed his eyes.
‘You bastard.’
Moyong Gun didn’t seem to be lying. In a situation where one wrong word could mean death, he wouldn’t fabricate tales.
Besides, Moyong Gun’s explanation made a twisted sort of sense.
‘How could a man as meticulous as him make such a blunder?’
Jeong knew his politics well enough. But his nature leaned toward boldness over subtlety. As Moyong Gun said, it was plausible he’d slipped up.
Jeong had likely paid with his life for that one mistake.
‘If he was going to die so pointlessly, he never should have left my side.’
Flash!
Yang Cheon’s eyes snapped open. The razor-sharp gaze sent a chill down Moyong Gun’s spine.
“And the bombardment of our entrance? That from anger too?”
“Hardly. As I said—similar reasons to yours.”
“What?”
Moyong Gun smiled coldly.
“I wanted to see how you’d react.”
“...?!”
“I never dreamed you’d come yourself, though.”
Yang Cheon let out a hollow laugh.
“You blew up our entrance just to gauge my reaction? You expect me to believe that?”
“Why else would I touch the Muk Ryong Bu? If I’d meant to crush it, I’d have prepared in secret and buried you all at once.”
Now it was Yang Cheon’s turn to flinch.
‘He means it.’
He had to concede the man’s audacity.
‘To speak so freely of burying our headquarters right in front of me.’
He recalled his conversation with Baek Seo.
‘If they truly knew of us, they wouldn’t have pulled forces just to blast the entrance.’
Baek Seo had said as much, and Yang Cheon agreed. If they’d meant real harm, they’d have struck hard. If not, they wouldn’t have touched it at all.
In other words, the Martial Alliance likely didn’t know of the Muk Ryong Bu. And Moyong Gun wanted something from them.
That was precisely why Yang Cheon had come here himself—to confirm it.
Moyong Gun licked his lips.
“Little boys play rough with girls they like to get their attention. A crude analogy, I admit, but my actions were much the same.”
“...”
“And now, I’m reaping the rewards. For you to come in person—truly an honor.”
“No matter the reason, I can’t overlook you touching my headquarters. You killed my intelligence chief and three of the Twelve Branch Gods besides.”
Killing intent flickered across Yang Cheon’s face.
“Now, give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you.”
In that moment, Moyong Gun inwardly cheered.
‘Perfect.’
A reason not to kill him? In this situation, Yang Cheon didn’t need to say it. If he were truly enraged, he’d have attacked already.
Yang Cheon was giving him an opening—a chance to survive, to negotiate.
His pride stung, but now wasn’t the time. This could turn defeat into victory.
Moyong Gun spoke steadily.
“Whatever the reason, many of my Moyong warriors died at the hands of your subordinates.”
“No comparison. The men you killed held key posts in my headquarters. What you lost were mere foot soldiers.”
“Then let’s even the scales.”
“Even the scales?”
“If both sides have lost equally, we can end this grudge match here. This clash might even strengthen our ties—what say you, Vice Leader?”
Yang Cheon’s eyes gleamed.
“You mean?”
“Yes. I’ll honor the original deal.”
“...!”
“Intervene in next year’s alliance leader election. Make me leader, and I’ll back the Muk Ryong Bu from the shadows.”
Yang Cheon smiled coldly.
“Even the scales? You’re asking us to swallow another loss.”
“Interfering in the election was always a long shot for you—a gamble. But I’m stepping into that gamble myself, wagering my life as the stake.”
“...!”
“The lives of your fallen subordinates—I’ll repay them with my own. And depending on how you use it, my life could prove invaluable to the Muk Ryong Bu.”
“...”
“Of course, that’s not all. Deals must be ironclad. If you accept...”
Moyong Gun’s eyes deepened.
‘Forgive me.’
This was the only way now.
‘It’ll shock you, but this will fuel your growth. Endure this sacrifice, and I’ll make great use of you later.’
He meant it sincerely.
“...I’ll send my daughter to you.”
Yang Cheon started in surprise.
“Your daughter?”
“Naturally, you mustn’t treat her like chattel. She’s young and inexperienced, but clever enough to scheme when needed.”
“...!”
“Handled right, she could be a great asset to the Muk Ryong Bu. Please guide her well.”
Yang Cheon’s eyelid twitched.
Heuk Yang, sent by the Saneumgyo, had been outed as a traitor. Trusting a hostage from an enemy was hard enough—but family changed the equation.
“Sending your daughter as a hostage to save your skin?”
Moyong Gun replied brightly.
“I’d appreciate if you saw this as the bold stroke it is. And doesn’t her life help balance the scales too?”
Flames of desire, ambition, and excitement blazed in Moyong Gun’s eyes, shining so fiercely even the lord of the world found them hard to meet.
“Well? Shall we settle old scores with this deal? Or kill me and prepare for war with the Martial Alliance?”
* * *
“Puhahaaa!”
In central Huguang Province, the moment Gadeuksang crossed the Yangtze, he exhaled deeply.
“Whoa, even the air feels different.”
Yeon Hojeong nodded.
“We can forget about pursuers now. Having crossed the Yangtze, neither the Muk Ryong Bu nor any black path sect can track us.”
He scanned the group.
“You’ve all worked hard.”
Everyone sighed in collective relief. If Yeon Hojeong said so, they could truly relax.
Paeryul grumbled.
“Call me next time for something flashier. I thought I’d die of frustration.”
“Got it.”
Dang Sang-a shook her head.
“Fighting overwhelming foes is better than infiltration warfare. It’s brutally tough.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Jegal A-yeon asked slyly.
“By the way, Jeong.”
“Yeah?”
“We made it out, but what about the commander? Hope he escaped safely.”
“Who knows.”
Yeon Hojeong gazed south. A meaningful glint flickered in his cool, sunken eyes.
“...If he returns unscathed, there’ll be a good reason for it.”