Stagnant Water Rots (2)
Moyong Gun’s terrifying outburst left Yang Cheon momentarily speechless.
The question of how this man even knew about the Saeum Sect came second. Yang Cheon had never imagined that anyone outside the Sacred Heavens would possess the audacity to hurl such insults at him.
Moyong Gun continued.
“How do I know about the Saeum Sect? How do you think I found out? By planting spies in the Black Dragon Department? By ordering my foolish daughter to steal information from you? Hardly!”
“……”
“While you were busy playing lord over this vast land of Hunan, we were hunting down the Three Sects who had seized control of the Henan provincial government—one by one!”
“……!”
“At first, I couldn’t believe it. I never thought those border barbarians could wield such power. But they are strong! It was fortunate we struck first. If we hadn’t, the entire Martial Alliance would have been torn apart from the roots within a few years!”
A deep killing intent surfaced in Moyong Gun’s eyes.
Surprisingly, that killing intent was directed not at the Three Sects, but at Yang Cheon himself. He genuinely harbored murderous intent toward the man.
“I wondered where those dog-like bastards might be hiding next. So I investigated. I poured every resource the Martial Alliance possessed into that investigation. And I found it—the connection between one of the Three Sects, the Saeum Sect, and a certain fool who, in this sacred land of the Central Plains, borrows the strength of foreign barbarians to play at being a great leader!”
“……!!”
“You. While deceiving the eyes of the entire orthodox Murim and building that grand organization called the Black Dragon Department, your methods were so impressive I couldn’t help but admire them. But it turns out that wasn’t the case at all!”
Moyong Gun pointed his index finger at Yang Cheon.
“Are you a pawn of the Three Sects?!”
“……
Watch your mouth.”
“If not, then how does a man hailed as one of the strongest in the Central Plains and a senior of the Murim consort with barbarians just to fatten his own belly?!”
“Shut your mouth!!”
Fwoooosh!
Yang Cheon’s roar carried terrifying force. The sonic blast was so powerful that Moyong Gun’s body was pushed backward several steps.
Yet Moyong Gun showed no fear. If anything, his aura burned even more fiercely.
“Why are you angry? Do you think you have the right to be angry?!”
“What?”
“The orthodox and unorthodox factions have clashed for centuries, but we are still people of the Central Plains! Even if our values and cultures differ, we are all from the same land! Yet you built such power by relying on foreign forces and strut about as if you’re someone important? Can you truly say you’re not in league with the Three Sects?!”
Shhhhhhh!
The aura pouring from Yang Cheon’s body rippled violently.
His emotions had been stirred by Moyong Gun’s scathing words. At the same time, he felt more flustered than he had in a long time.
That fluster stemmed from an emotion he refused to acknowledge—shame. Under Moyong Gun’s sharp rebuke, Yang Cheon felt his chest tighten as if he had been caught doing something wrong.
This bastard.
Fwoooosh!
The wavering aura soon coalesced into a dense, powerful force.
He buried his shame and confusion beneath rage. A fierce killing intent gleamed in Yang Cheon’s eyes as he glared at Moyong Gun.
“Your insolence has gone too far! Even if it means war with the orthodox Murim, I will drown the entire Moyong Family in blood, starting with you!”
“The one you should be attacking is!!”
Moyong Gun did not falter even before Yang Cheon’s overwhelming presence.
“The one you should be raging to devour is neither me, nor my family, nor the Martial Alliance! The target for those fists you’ve honed for decades lies far beyond the borders!”
“You bastard!”
“Do you know why I came all this way to confront you? When foreign enemies are eyeing the Central Plains, why did I come to you and hurl these insults instead of begging the other Sacred Heavens masters for help?!”
Moyong Gun spat the words out.
“Because I still have some expectations of you.”
“What?”
“If I haven’t misjudged you, then even if the King of Combat, Yang Cheon, refuses to bow his head, I believed you were someone who would at least recognize what is wrong, what your own mistakes are, and what you must do now!”
“……!!”
“If I hadn’t thought that, would I have come here? I would have come, yes—but only to drag you out and kill you. Even if it meant recruiting the other Sacred Heavens masters to help!”
Yang Cheon’s eyes trembled.
Moyong Gun, who had been breathing heavily, quickly steadied his breath.
“Lord of the Black Dragon Department.”
“……”
“I’ll ask again. Did you join hands with the Saeum Sect? Are you in league with the Three Sects?”
“……”
“Why can’t you answer? Are you the fool who used the barbarians as your backing, signed a contract with me who knew nothing, and planned to hand over the Martial Alliance and the entire Central Plains to them?!”
Harsh. And harsher still.
Moyong Gun’s words had long since crossed the line of mere rudeness. He was attacking with such provocative language that a fight could break out at any moment.
Yet Yang Cheon could not easily open his mouth. Even the killing intent that had burned like fire had already diminished by half.
Because he knew. Because he understood.
He knew why Moyong Gun was angry, why the man was glaring at him with such loathing.
Yang Cheon had never intended to ally with the Saeum Sect from the beginning. He had merely wanted to borrow their power to unify the unorthodox factions.
In other words, he had planned to use their abilities, not become one of them. If that weren’t the case, he wouldn’t have killed Heukyang.
However…
……Was I hesitating as well?
When the former head of intelligence, Jeong, had lost his life at the hands of the enemy, Yang Cheon had collapsed, losing consciousness for unknown reasons.
When he awoke, he had instinctively known why he had fallen.
The Lord of the Saeum Sect!
That was right. He had once fought the Lord of the Saeum Sect one-on-one beyond the borders.
Even back then, the Lord of the Saeum Sect had already been a perfected master. Yang Cheon himself had been the same, yet the sect lord’s power had been a step above his own.
The mark left by that palm strike still remained on his chest. And that palm imprint was slowly, subtly eating away at his body.
In short, the Lord of the Saeum Sect had never trusted him either. The Black Dragon Department had merely been a foothold for their invasion of the Central Plains, not comrades with whom they would walk into the future.
Why did I stay still?
Yang Cheon wondered. Even after realizing this fact, why had he never tried to attack the Saeum Sect?
I’m not that kind of person.
Yang Cheon, the King of Combat. Among the Holy Thirteen Seats, he was the greatest expert in the art of struggle within the secular world.
He needed no weapons, not even a single piece of metal. His two fists were enough to carve his path through the world. He required no factions, no weapons.
If attacked, he responded by crushing them. If deceived, he crushed them. If stabbed in the back, he ground their entire organization to dust.
That was the King of Combat. He had never once cared about the opinions of any expert or faction while roaming the world.
Yet now, why? Even after witnessing the Lord of the Saeum Sect’s attempt to turn him into a puppet, why had he not prepared a counterattack?
……!
Yang Cheon’s eyes became bloodshot.
He faced a truth he did not want to acknowledge, a small reality he was too ashamed to even recall.
I couldn’t win……
That was right. Yang Cheon had judged that he could not defeat the Lord of the Saeum Sect. Deep in his heart, he had already accepted defeat.
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason. Unlike before, he now had subordinates he had to feed. Not just one or two, but tens of thousands of mouths to feed.
A leader must never act rashly. Yang Cheon knew this better than anyone.
But it wasn’t merely for that reason that he had remained seated so heavily until now.
At some point, I began to dread struggle itself—the very thing I was best at.
The unparalleled master who was said to be the greatest in the Central Plains when it came to struggle had come to fear struggle itself.
It was utterly ridiculous. The greatest weapon that had brought him his current fame—he had gone beyond merely not wanting to use it and had begun to fear it.
Grind.
Yang Cheon gritted his teeth.
The rising shame and the intense disappointment in himself made him feel dizzy.
Moyong Gun spoke coldly.
“The Martial Alliance’s reserve forces will pass through Hunan and head south.”
“……?!”
“I heard there’s someone called a god in the Central Plains’ assassin world. He’s participating in the conflicts among the southern orthodox sects and whittling down our strength.”
“……!!”
“The Alliance’s reserve unit will be dispatched to capture him. I don’t know who he is, but I believe the reserve forces can handle him somehow.”
As he spoke, Moyong Gun observed Yang Cheon’s expression. He had heard that the man known as the king of assassins, Hong Gwan, was Yang Cheon’s disciple.
As expected, Yang Cheon’s gaze shifted.
“Someone you know?”
“……”
“I don’t know about others, but I believe there’s a possibility he’s connected to the Three Sects. However, those trying to whittle down the orthodox factions aren’t limited to the Three Sects.”
Moyong Gun’s eyes narrowed.
“Or perhaps he’s someone you know.”
For a brief moment, Yang Cheon felt an intense urge to deny it.
Yang Cheon looked at Moyong Gun.
That sharp gaze carried suspicion. It was the look of a strategist who was calculating how the other would respond and preparing his counter immediately.
Yang Cheon closed his eyes.
“You already knew?”
“What do you mean? Speak clearly.”
“You already knew that he was connected to me.”
“……”
“Of course. With the intelligence to uncover that I used the Saeum Sect’s power to found the Black Dragon Department, you would naturally have discovered that he had some connection to me.”
The corner of Moyong Gun’s mouth curled upward.
“So you admit it. Yes, from what I’ve heard, he’s your disciple. His name was Hong Gwan, wasn’t it?”
“Yayul Jeok.”
“……?”
“Hong Gwan is an alias. His real name is Yayul Jeok.”
“Yayul Jeok……”
“Furthermore, he entered as a disciple of the previous Shadow God, mastered all of his assassination techniques, killed his master and the other disciples, and is now active as the new Shadow God of this era.”
Moyong Gun frowned.
Shadow God? The previous one? What is he talking about?
Yang Cheon, who had been silently watching Moyong Gun, turned his body.
“Once I’ve sorted out my thoughts, I’ll send a separate letter to the Martial Alliance. You should return as well.”
“Lord of the Black Dragon Department.”
“The Martial Alliance’s reserve forces are passing through Hunan? Do as you please. At least this time, I’ll open the way for you.”
Moyong Gun spoke in a chilling voice.
“You must contact me within three months. If not, I will regard the Black Dragon Department as traitors who colluded with foreign enemies and attack immediately.”
“Do you really think you have that kind of power?”
“At the very least, it’s not something you need to concern yourself with.”
Yang Cheon let out a short laugh.
“Consider yourself lucky, Patriarch Moyong. Depending on the judgment I make, I might uproot the Moyong Family before I even deal with the Three Sects.”
“……!”
“Go back.”