Chapter 83. The Wind Does Not Cease (1)
The martial world had never known a peaceful day, but rarely had it faced a calamity as monumental as this.
Martial World's Public Enemy. Those four characters sent chills down the spines of the White Path, Black Path, and even the unorthodox sects without discrimination.
In a world overrun by countless murderers and madmen, it was exceedingly rare for anyone to be branded a Martial World's Public Enemy under the banner of the Provisional Martial Alliance. In the past century, fewer than ten individuals had received that infamous label.
That was how weighty the brand of Martial World's Public Enemy truly was—it was never affixed lightly.
Yet astonishingly, the latest recipient was not a single person, but an entire clan.
The Gu-ju Myeong Family.
Three hundred years ago, alongside the Four Directions Martial Emperors, they had ended the Blood Cult Uprising and planted their roots in the Central Plains. For nearly two centuries, they had stood as an iron fortress, basking in the glory of being the world's greatest family.
And now, that very family had been branded a Martial World's Public Enemy.
It was the first time in martial history that the pinnacle of the White Path had fallen to such infamy.
Of course, being labeled a public enemy didn't mean every warrior of the Myeong Family would be slaughtered outright.
The brand sealed off all movements of the implicated force. They would be captured first, their facts verified, and only then, if deemed guilty, would they truly become confirmed public enemies.
It was no command issued lightly from the start. Given its extraordinary nature, the label was applied with utmost caution.
However, to prevent the suspects from fleeing, the notice was broadcast across the entire martial world—a somewhat oppressive measure.
Yet considering that even most murderers escaped such a fate, it underscored the sheer magnitude of the Myeong Family's crimes.
The martial world held its breath.
This was grave enough to convene a Provisional Martial Alliance. The fall of a prestigious family that had reigned supreme for ages was an epochal event drawing the gaze of every warrior.
Henan Province, Hechang, the Gu-ju Myeong Family headquarters.
Innumerable warriors had gathered around it.
But these were no ordinary folk. Monks in Daoist robes, Taoists, and warriors clad in luxurious martial attire filled the ranks—numbering close to five hundred.
With five hundred encircling the estate, only insiders knew how many had breached its walls.
Moyong Gun maintained his composed demeanor as he entered the Myeong estate. The guards at the outer courtyard bowed deeply.
"We greet the Alliance Leader!"
"Mm, you're doing well."
Returning their salute crisply, Moyong Gun passed through the outer courtyard into the inner one.
He headed to a particular building within.
A faint medicinal scent permeated the spacious hall inside.
Hoo... hoo...
An elderly man lay there, breathing shallowly.
His body was wrapped head to toe in bandages. Even his neck and face bore deep wounds, still flushed red.
He was Myeong Cheon.
Moyong Gun clicked his tongue.
"What a gruesome sight."
He had heard the rough outline of events. Yeon Hojeong and the Chang Eung Corps had somehow anticipated Myeong Cheon's journey to the Yeon Family in Jiangsu Province and blocked his path. A fierce clash ensued, and misfortune had left Myeong Cheon in this state.
"Heh! A new divine art? To get done in while refining a new martial technique—talk about bad luck. Don't you think?"
Moyong Gun turned to the side.
A middle-aged man sat rigidly in a stiff chair.
It was Myeong U-san, who hadn't dared breathe since Moyong Gun's arrival.
Moyong Gun smiled.
"You lot really overdid it. Killing all those laborers to unearth your ancestor's martial arts? Eight hundred of them, was it?"
"......"
"How could you commit such an outrageous act? Was keeping that secret so vital?"
Myeong U-san bit his lip.
Indeed. The most devastating blow Moyong Gun had unleashed at the grand assembly was the revelation of the Myeong Family's massacre of innocent laborers.
Even the White Path turned a blind eye to minor flaws or scandals among the great sects. The Nine Great Sects and Seven Great Families doubly so.
But harming civilians was another matter entirely.
The pact of mutual non-interference between the imperial authorities and the martial world had held for centuries.
Yet the government occasionally meddled—most notably when common folk suffered.
A martial artist slaying innocent civilians? That was intolerable.
Nominally subjects of the empire and property of the emperor, the peasantry demanded intervention, even if performative.
And the martial world despised such governmental intrusions.
It was a profoundly sensitive issue.
Had they kept it hushed, it might have passed. But once aired publicly, becoming public enemies was hardly surprising.
"Tsk tsk. If it were me, I'd have sheltered them under my wing. A proper job to live on for life."
"......"
"Easier to watch, handy for odd tasks. But you? You slaughtered them all."
"......"
"And not content with that, the 'ancestral martial art' you cultivated turns out to be a demonic art?"
Myeong U-san's eyes flickered.
"This... is not a demonic art."
"Haha! Does it need to reek of evil demonic qi to qualify?"
"......"
"It's a technique that devours the mind. Your family head here, and those fleeing elders, prove it well enough."
"......"
"A few fugitives remain at large. It'll take time."
Moyong Gun plopped casually onto the bedside.
"Direct or collateral kin, you're all one family, no? The escapees will be executed on sight, no questions asked. But if they surrender, at least they'll live."
Myeong U-san's gaze deepened.
"A decade in the brain prison at minimum. Plus dantian destruction."
"Better than death. Better than a lifetime of dread."
"......"
"Didn't you foresee this end when burying those laborers?"
Myeong U-san bit his lip in silence.
Moyong Gun's eyes chilled momentarily.
"Let me make a proposal."
"......?"
"You're aware the Myeong Family's young master, in secluded training, has vanished."
Myeong U-san's eyes wavered.
Moyong Gun smiled. A subtle reaction, but satisfying.
"You know where that brat fled."
"......"
"Let's not drag this out. Tell me his whereabouts, and I'll lighten your sentence—and your daughter's."
Myeong U-san's face twisted.
"M-my daughter too? Imprisoned?"
"Did you think otherwise?"
Moyong Gun shook his head.
"Even on higher orders, she cultivated a demonic art. And she tried to kill the Yeon Family's young master."
"Th-that was...!"
"You know Yeon Hojeong's stature, don't you?"
Moyong Gun smirked.
"The finest late-generation talent, boldly challenging corrupt hypocrites. The young tiger of Gangdong who stood alone against a colossal faction to defend his house."
"......"
"His martial prowess and courage earn him rebirths of Little Overlord Sun Ce. His cunning rivals reincarnated Luksun."
Moyong Gun nodded.
"Impressive. Martial skill, intellect, audacity, execution—nothing ordinary. I've never seen such talent."
"......"
"Get my point? Yeon Hojeong is the martial world's fervent hero, drawing all eyes. In a sense, he toppled your family single-handedly."
Myeong U-san's lip split, blood trickling.
"Public opinion will demand the death penalty for any who targeted him, excuses be damned. Think your daughter can dodge that fury?"
"I-I..."
"Think it over. As the assembly's host, I can adjust your sentences. Dantian waste without prison, perhaps."
Myeong U-san glanced at Myeong Cheon, still unconscious.
Even if he woke, his days were numbered—the physician had said his lifespan was drastically shortened.
Myeong U-san bowed his head.
Moyong Gun rose.
"In three days, all Myeong warriors will be transferred to the Martial Alliance."
"......!!"
"We'll elect a provisional alliance leader too. Not that it matters."
Moyong Gun patted Myeong U-san's shoulder.
"I'll be at the nearby tavern for three days. Come find me if you change your mind."
He knew the man's resolve was crumbling. Better to let him come crawling.
Information from a willing source held true value—unlike coerced promises.
"Rest well."
Exiting the hall, Moyong Gun looked skyward.
"Whew, hot but clear. Fine weather. Haha!"
* * *
Thwack!
"Urk."
Gadeuksang belched a groan and toppled over.
"Can't greet properly?"
"Gah! W-why again?!"
Crack!
"Argh!"
Gadeuksang hopped clutching his shin.
The old man clucked his tongue.
"Thought I'd trained you beggar-proper, but you snoop where you shouldn't, cause a massive mess?"
"Massive? This is great!"
"You little—?"
"......"
"One more lip, and you'll eat dust in the rain. Got it?"
Gadeuksang shrank.
His master followed through. And he looked pissed.
Best to grovel.
Gadeuksang grinned idiotically.
"Heh heh, just saying."
"Sigh, raising a moron like you as sole heir. Ancestors must wail underground."
"......But why's it a mess?"
"Idiot. Why carry that thick skull? Everyone knows you meddled. How'll folks see you as gang leader later?"
"......As one who upholds justice?"
"Shut it, you fool! Don't you know how many snake-like White Path bastards there are? Think they'll ally with a pain like you?"
Gadeuksang's face crumpled.
"Then what? You heard what the Myeong Family did. Let it slide? A Beggar Sect disciple's duty?"
His voice rose slightly. Even at his age, his blood ran hot. Wrong was wrong, even if it meant a beating from his master.
The old man snorted.
"No plan to hide your involvement?"
"......Pardon?"
"Should've stayed invisible, you worthless flea!"
"Ah......"
"Ah? Heh! Getting dumber by the day? Who puffed your chest? That Yeon Hojeong?"
"Pardon?"
"Did Yeon Hojeong puff your chest?!"
Gadeuksang rolled his eyes, then nodded coolly.
"Yes, Master."
"Tch! Anyway, that guy's no ordinary sort. Still nearby?"
"Yes. He's wrecked bad too."
The old man jerked his chin toward the distance.
"Let's see the famed tiger's mug. Lead on."
"Heh heh, yes!"
"Hey, why's his nickname Mad Storm Blade?"
"Dunno."
"Tiger now? Lion then tiger?"
"Exactly."
"Feline family?"
"Moody, yeah."
"He'll hate you. You're dog-like."
"......"
"Let's go."
"Woof woof."