The Scent of Rebellion
“Hmm.”
Atop a hill overlooking the distant forest, Moyong Gun shook his head.
“They were one step ahead.”
No one was visible to the naked eye. Yet the faint killing intent drifting from the forest, near one of the buildings, already proved the deed was done.
“Well then, let us be on our way.”
Whoosh!
Moyong Gun and Eon Ja-bang leapt down the slope.
“……”
Yeon Hojeong’s gaze turned toward the forest. They’re here. He had not deliberately concealed his presence, yet the natural aura he exuded was formidable.
A crease formed on Yeon Hojeong’s brow.
It was a dangerous aura. Silent, yet on the verge of exploding. It felt as though crackling lightning had been compressed to its limit.
Just like his own Yeon Family Divine Elixir, his inner energy had condensed into a core. The lightning qi had gathered and tightened until not even a needle could slip through. He’s improved. Far more than before. Remarkable. Reaching such rapid growth at Moyong Gun’s age was no easy feat.
Enlightenment could transform one’s inner energy or elevate one’s martial path, but the sheer density of Moyong Gun’s internal energy had grown this visibly—a rare occurrence. Novices advanced gradually, but masters grew in leaps. Moyong Gun, despite already standing at a lofty realm, continued to progress as steadily as a fresh initiate. Did he obtain some fortuitous encounter? Or is it the nature of his art?
Yeon Hojeong recalled the Moyong Gun of the past. His offensive power had been peerless, and his insight profound. The title Sword God was not something one received merely for becoming the Martial Alliance Lord. As expected, he hasn’t been idle.
Yeon Hojeong did not know what Moyong Gun’s future held. The era of the Black Dark Emperor and the present were entirely different times. Yet one thing was certain: Moyong Gun would never retreat. For his ambitions, he would use any means necessary and never give up.
Soon after, Moyong Gun and Eon Ja-bang appeared.
“It has been a while.”
Yeon Hojeong offered a faint smile.
“You’ve arrived.”
“We intended to move together, yet it seems you’ve already finished.”
“Indeed.”
Moyong Gun surveyed the surroundings. Beside Yeon Hojeong stood Kang Liang and Pae Yul, and behind them, a line of people bound tightly with ropes.
“……”
Moyong Gun’s eyes turned cold.
“Who are they?”
“Men who deserve to be captured and killed.”
Within that calm voice seethed killing intent beyond imagination. It was the first time Moyong Gun had heard Yeon Hojeong speak in such a tone—restrained, as though on the brink of crushing everything yet barely holding himself back.
“Explain the situation.”
Yeon Hojeong gave a brief account of Nakwonso. As always, his explanation was concise and precise.
“……”
Moyong Gun’s eyes wavered.
“Is this true?”
Yeon Hojeong remained silent, arms crossed. Pae Yul pointed at the building.
“The victims are inside. The Tang Patriarch is tending to them. Go in and see for yourself.”
With hardened expressions, Moyong Gun and Eon Ja-bang stepped forward. Moments later, a murderous aura surged from within the building.
Kang Liang sighed.
“Do you think it’s real?”
“What is?”
“Moyong Patriarch’s anger.”
Yeon Hojeong nodded.
“It is.”
“……”
“Of course, his reasons differ from ours.”
Moyong Gun’s fury was not purely moral. The shock of the incident itself must have been great, and some indignation surely stemmed from basic humanity. Yet the greatest source of his rage lay with the Three Sects. At this critical juncture, members of Sichuan’s greatest sects were operating such a place. Morally abhorrent, but in wartime, it was sheer lunacy. Moyong Gun’s anger leaned heavily in that direction.
His hatred toward the Three Sects was near-blind. Anyone or anything that even slightly harmed their cause would face his judgment first. In a way, he seemed easy to read, yet at times, impossibly difficult to understand.
“It doesn’t matter,” Yeon Hojeong said, closing his eyes. “Moyong Patriarch’s anger is necessary. At the very least, it is genuine.”
Was that too cold? No. Even while witnessing an atrocity that could not be ignored, they had to think ahead. Sadly, they had to exploit even an enemy’s emotions. In such dire circumstances, that was what survival demanded. So that’s how it is. Kang Liang finally understood. He had known it intellectually, but now he felt it in his heart. Brother has no time to focus on himself.
No one else contemplated the continent’s and the martial world’s future as deeply as Yeon Hojeong. It was easy to say one cared for the world, but it was never simple. He investigated incidents in distant provinces and constantly weighed their impact on the greater war. Because they had to win. If war with the Three Sects was inevitable, he would make victory inevitable by racking his brain day after day. It was a life Kang Liang could scarcely imagine. Yet even while living such a life, he continues to grow like this. Kang Liang gave a bitter smile. In front of this man, I can’t even complain about hardship.
Just then, Moyong Gun and Eon Ja-bang emerged from the building. Moyong Gun’s face was terrifyingly rigid, as though the slightest touch would make him erupt like a volcano. He approached Yeon Hojeong.
“How do you intend to handle this?”
“I’ve requested aid from the Beggars’ Sect. They should arrive soon.”
“Can the Beggars’ Sect manage it?”
“I’ll speak with them. If they seem unable to handle it alone, I plan to uproot Nakwonso in Sichuan before moving on.”
“……Very well.”
Moyong Gun sat with his back against a nearby rock. Looking at the bound men made him want to slaughter them all. Time passed once more. In the distance, a group approached—the Beggars’ Sect.
“Vice Leader Yeon.”
“You’ve come.”
Gi Chung and his experts wore expressions no different from Moyong Gun’s.
“Are those them?”
“Yes.”
After a moment of silence, Gi Chung produced a letter from his robes.
“A letter delivered directly to Vice Leader Yeon. From the Sect Leader himself.”
“From whom?”
“From Leader Hwa Jin-cheon.”
Yeon Hojeong’s eyes flashed.
“From the Leader?”
“Yes.”
Hwa Jin-cheon, master of the Hundred Thousand Beggars and teacher of Ga Deuk-sang. Yeon Hojeong had met him once before, right after the Myeongga incident, when he was with Jegal A-yeon. He unfolded the letter, and his gaze deepened. Pae Yul asked,
“What does it say?”
“He says he is in Sichuan.”
“The Leader himself?!”
“Yes.”
Yeon Hojeong folded the letter.
“He wishes to meet.”
“……Hmm.”
At this point? Yeon Hojeong turned to Gi Chung.
“The letter mentions that experts directly under the Leader have been dispatched here. Did you know?”
“Pardon?”
“I see you did not.”
Gi Chung’s face hardened as he nodded.
“Most duties have been handed to the Junior Leader, but he remains the Leader. He must be aware of every incident scattered across the land.”
“Knowing is one thing. The question is how long he has known.”
“What I wished to convey is that he is aware of the situation here. Furthermore, the fact that he did not inform the Sichuan branches suggests he is exercising caution as well.”
It was a fair point.
“Wait a moment.”
Yeon Hojeong entered the building. Victims lay scattered across the first floor. Blankets taken from the second and third floors had been laid out, yet most were unconscious or paralyzed with fear. In their midst, Dang Gwan, Hwang Seok-tae, and Songha Sinni moved busily.
“Patriarch.”
“I’m busy. Speak later unless it’s urgent.”
“It is urgent.”
Dang Gwan was carefully splitting medicinal pills and mixing them with water. Yeon Hojeong waited silently; Dang Gwan’s work was meticulous. Soon, Dang Gwan handed the medicine to Songha Sinni.
“Feed this to the patients over there. Be careful not to obstruct their breathing.”
“Understood.”
After wiping his hands, Dang Gwan stepped outside with Yeon Hojeong.
“What is it?”
“I have somewhere to go.”
“Where?”
“I need to meet the Beggar Sect Leader.”
Dang Gwan’s eyes gleamed.
“The Leader was in Sichuan?”
“It seems so. He sent a separate letter.”
“Tell him this: if he only knows how to listen and not how to act, he won’t need those legs—I’ll cut them off myself.”
If Hwa Jin-cheon was in Sichuan, he must have had some idea of what was happening. Yet he had taken no action. He surely had his reasons, but Dang Gwan had no intention of considering them. Yeon Hojeong gave a wry smile.
“I’ll relay the message exactly.”
“So, what will you do with these people?”
“The Beggars’ Sect should be able to handle it. Since the Leader has dispatched his own experts, we can leave this matter to them for now.”
Dang Gwan’s eyes shone. His anger toward Hwa Jin-cheon was clear, but he had no intention of belittling the man’s abilities. The Leader’s capabilities differed from those of other martial sects. If he set his mind to controlling information in Sichuan, even Nakwonso, skilled in such matters, would struggle to operate freely.
“If the Leader takes over Nakwonso’s affairs in our stead, we’ll gain some time.”
“Indeed. Regardless of the truth, people call him the symbol of the Orthodox Alliance.”
His voice was sharp. Yeon Hojeong continued,
“I can’t be certain, but he should be able to stall for at least a month. We can finish the Tang Family matter within that time.”
“The sooner, the better.”
“Of course. So I’ll go meet the Leader now. Let us meet near the Tang Family ferry.”
“Very well.”
“Please endure a little longer.”
After cupping his fists, Yeon Hojeong turned away. Watching his back, Dang Gwan spoke as if tossing the words out.
“Brat.”
“Yes?”
“The Tang Clan does not forget favors.”
With that, Dang Gwan also turned and headed back inside. Yeon Hojeong chuckled. The Tang Clan does not forget favors—meaning they would surely repay the help he had given. It was something the usual Dang Gwan would never say aloud. That alone showed how gravely he viewed the situation. Yeon Hojeong departed in silence. The circumstances had stripped Dang Gwan of his usual self; it was time to help him return to it.
* * *
Half a day later.
Moving at terrifying speed, Yeon Hojeong arrived at an inn near Dujiangyan in Sichuan. No one was visible inside, only faint traces of presence. Silently ascending to the top floor, he found an old man standing with his hands behind his back, his back turned. Yeon Hojeong cupped his fists.
“I greet the Beggar Sect Leader.”
Hwa Jin-cheon, the Beggar Sect Leader, turned around.
“It has been a while, young tiger.”