The Beast of the White Tiger

At the end of the steep stone stairs, a massive black door stood firmly shut.

The White Fang operative who had guided Dokgo Jin halted before the entrance and spoke in a muted voice.

"Enter. The Banner Master awaits."

Behind the operative's stark white mask, Dokgo Jin felt a gaze appraising him—a complex mixture of awe and vigilant suspicion.

He's on guard lest I try anything.

Even without extending his senses, Dokgo Jin knew Tiger Gazing Tower was nothing short of a dragon's lair and a tiger's den. No matter how formidable a martial artist one might be, confronting the White Tiger Banner Master alone within these walls was suicide, yet this man remained relentlessly cautious to the last.

Should I call it thoroughness?

In a sense, it spoke volumes of the sheer devotion the White Tiger Banner Master commanded. To earn the absolute loyalty of a master of that caliber was no ordinary feat; sheer martial prowess alone could never inspire such fidelity.

Dokgo Jin placed his palm against the black door.

Creak.

Despite its immense weight, the door swung open ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as light as a feather. Rather, it felt as though an unseen pull from within had drawn it inward.

The interior of Tiger Gazing Tower was surprisingly austere. There were no lavish decorations or priceless curios. Instead, the entire hall was saturated with a suffocating stillness and the sharp, metallic tang of iron.

It was entirely different from the stench of sweat lingering over the training grounds of the White Tiger Camp. It was the chilled, sharp scent of blood that clung only to an ancient blade seasoned by countless slaughters.

There was no one to guide him further, but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Dokgo Jin knew instinctively where to go. Past the long corridor ahead, an unmistakable presence radiated from beyond the gloom.

Reaching the end of the hallway, he stopped before a solitary chamber.

Is it here?

The moment he arrived, the door swung open as if on cue.

Dokgo Jin stepped inside, his gaze immediately drawn toward the deepest recesses of the room.

There, his back to the moonlight filtering softly through the paper lattice window, sat a solitary figure.

"You have arrived."

The voice was pitched low, yet it reverberated against Dokgo Jin's eardrums like heavy thunder.

The man slowly lifted his head and met Dokgo Jin's eyes.

It was the White Tiger Banner Master.

He was a titan of a man, so colossal that even the high ceiling seemed cramped around him. His bulging musculature strained against his frame, making the broad, tiger-skin-draped chair look narrow and fragile. Of all the giants Dokgo Jin had encountered, the gladiator Heuk-ung from Sword Selling Street had been the largest—yet this man was taller by at least a head.

A thick neck rose into broad, boulder-like shoulders, crowned by a wild mane of untamed, dark red hair. Across the forearms exposed beneath his robes ran crisscrossing scars like battle honors, offering a grim testament to the harrowing battlefields he had carved his way through.

Embroidered in silver thread upon his pristine white robe was a snarling white tiger that looked poised to leap from the cloth at any moment. Most striking of all, however, were his eyes.

They were strange, golden orbs with vertical, slit-like pupils.

They were not the eyes of a man, but the gaze of an apex predator.

This is the White Tiger Banner Master, Wi Ji-woong...!

His visage and presence perfectly embodied his feared epithet: the Golden-Eyed Tyrant King.

The instant those golden eyes locked onto his, Dokgo Jin felt a sudden chill, as if he had been stripped bare down to his very bones.

"Squad Leader Yeom could not praise you enough. The Dragon Tiger Plaque Master... Indeed, your bearing does not disgrace the name."

The Banner Master crooked a thick finger.

"Step forward. I wish to see the dark abyss you harbor a little closer."

Dokgo Jin's eyes narrowed slightly.

He saw right through my inner foundation in a single glance.

Wi Ji-woong was cut from a completely different cloth than any other Northern Heaven Alliance master Dokgo Jin had crossed paths with so far.

I cannot afford to let my guard down around him.

Assuming an air of unhurried calm, Dokgo Jin stepped forward. Yet with every stride, the pressure bearing down upon the chamber multiplied exponentially. It felt as though massive, invisible iron chains were coiling tightly around his limbs and torso.

Under such suffocating momentum, an ordinary martial artist would have collapsed to their knees, gasping for breath. This was not a mere disparity in internal energy or martial arts grade; it was the absolute weight of Wi Ji-woong's profound stature.

Dokgo Jin's instincts roared with certainty.

A master of the Heavenly Martial Realm...!

The transcendent state surpassing the Peak Realm was known as the Martial Soul Realm. Yet the White Tiger Banner Master had crossed beyond even the zenith of the Martial Soul Realm, stepping firmly into the legendary Heavenly Martial Realm.

Across the vast expanse of the Four Hegemons of the Central Plains, individuals who had attained the Heavenly Martial Realm could be counted on one hand.

Are the other Five Pillars of Northern Heaven on this level as well?

If so, it meant the Northern Heaven Alliance possessed at least five masters of the Heavenly Martial Realm. Even among the prestigious Nine Sects and One Gang or the Eight Great Clans, rarely could any faction boast more than two such figures at once.

...Frightening.

The sheer, terrifying foundation of the Northern Heaven Alliance struck him with renewed weight.

Yet despite the crushing aura, Dokgo Jin did not halt.

Wuuuung.

Deep within his dantian, the Nine Nether Dark Sky Scripture stirred. The pitch-black Ink Flame Qi flared soundlessly to life, quietly enveloping him and smoothly deflecting the golden, domineering force that Wi Ji-woong unleashed.

Thud. Thud.

When Dokgo Jin finally halted just a few paces before him, a distinct flicker of intrigue flashed through Wi Ji-woong's golden gaze for the first time.

"Oho."

The corners of Wi Ji-woong's lips curled upward in a slow, predatory grin—a display of pure amusement and the cold curiosity of a beast discovering worthy prey.

"I have seen a fair share who could endure my presence, but it has been a very long time since I met someone who could receive it so casually."

His slitted eyes gleamed sharply.

"Furthermore, you show no trace of tension. No one in the Northern Heaven Alliance—not even Yeom Baek—can stand before me without their nerves fraying."

"If this was meant to be a test, it was rather heavy-handed," Dokgo Jin replied evenly.

Wi Ji-woong burst into a booming roar of laughter.

"Hahahaha!"

When his laughter subsided, he rose from his chair. The moment his feet touched the floor, the suffocating pressure that filled the room vanished like a phantom.

"You have earned the right. The right to look me dead in the eye."

Wi Ji-woong stepped closer, his heavy palm coming down in an emphatic pat against Dokgo Jin's shoulder.

"Welcome, Dokgo Jin. Truly, yours is a talent that would make those old fools of the Blue Dragon and Black Tortoise drool with envy."

His tone was jovial, yet the underlying message cut like a honed dagger.

"I will watch closely to see whether you prove yourself a well-used spear of our White Tiger Banner, or snap and vanish into nothingness."

Dokgo Jin met those chilling golden pupils and asked, "Did you summon me just to confirm that?"

"Too many rumors have reached my ears. I wanted to see with my own eyes."

Wi Ji-woong rested his chin in his hand, scrutinizing Dokgo Jin with blatant fascination.

"Now that we meet face-to-face, however, the rumors failed to do you justice. Though, I suppose very few people possess the vision required to recognize your true worth."

With a faint smirk, he stepped back into the shadows. In the dim light, his slit pupils cast an eerie, luminous gleam.

"You may take your leave. I look forward to your performance."

"Understood."

Dokgo Jin gave a brief, respectful nod, turning on his heel without lingering.

Wi Ji-woong continued to gaze at the entrance long after the door clicked shut and Dokgo Jin's presence faded into the distance.

Eventually, he spoke in a low voice.

"What do you think?"

The moment the words left his lips, a figure detached itself from the shadow of a grand pillar. Wearing a white mask edged with gold trim, the man bowed low—the White Fang Unit Leader.

"He will certainly... be of great use."

"You think so as well?"

"However, for an anomalous talent of that caliber to appear out of nowhere at such a time is rather suspicious. One thing is certain: he is no stray who could ever have been fished out of a gutter like Sword Selling Street."

"Is there no such thing as coincidence under heaven?"

"Forgive me, my lord. Your subordinate does not place faith in coincidences."

Hearing the operative's dry response, Wi Ji-woong nodded in understanding, though the smile on his lips only widened.

"It matters not. Whatever his true identity may be, and whatever scheme he harbors..."

A cold, terrifying glint flashed across his golden pupils.

"So long as he fulfills the role I demand of him, that is more than enough."

Descending the steep cliffside stairs of Tiger Gazing Tower, Dokgo Jin glanced up at the night sky. A thin line of cold sweat ran down the center of his back.

The White Tiger Banner Master... is far more dangerous than I anticipated.

Beyond his staggering martial prowess, the man possessed the feral intuition of a beast, capable of piercing straight through appearances to perceive the core beneath. Had Dokgo Jin faltered under that crushing pressure, the Nine Nether Dark Sky Scripture might have slipped from his control and revealed itself completely.

And yet...

The brisk night wind whipped fiercely against his robes. A faint, quiet smirk touched Dokgo Jin's lips.

This is all the better. The fiercer the beast, the wider the horizon seen by the one who rides its back.

With composed steps, Dokgo Jin melted into the shadowed depths of the White Tiger Camp.

Bang!

The office door flew open with a violent shudder, and Yoo Seol-ah bounded into the room. Before she could even catch her breath, she blurted out,

"Squad Leader! Dokgo Jin just returned!"

Still reviewing a stack of paperwork, Yeom Baek didn't even bother to lift his eyes. He gave a lukewarm reply.

"And?"

"What do you mean, 'and'?"

"If he's back, tell him to go rest. What are you making a fuss about?"

At his nonchalant reaction, Yoo Seol-ah looked thoroughly flabbergasted. She ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠strode up to his desk, planting her hands firmly on the wood and leaning forward.

"Squad Leader! That's not what's important right now! Shouldn't we summon him immediately and... wait, aren't you the least bit curious? About what he and the Banner Master discussed?"

Only then did Yeom Baek set down his brush, sighing with an irritated scowl.

"Not particularly. The entire alliance has been in an uproar over the birth of a new Dragon Tiger Plaque Master. Even the Banner Master was bound to be curious and want to see his face once."

"And what if that's not all it was? What if he took a liking to him and decided to transfer him straight into the White Fang Unit or another personal detail?"

"Then a transfer requisition would have landed on my desk by now."

"You never know! What if they held some private, clandestine talk behind closed doors?"

Yeom Baek let out a dry scoff.

"Our Vice-Commander certainly has a vivid imagination. Why would the exalted White Tiger Banner Master hold a clandestine summit with a mere recruit?"

"That's..."

"If they did, and if it concerned matters I needed to know, Dokgo Jin would have reported it to me directly."

"And if Dokgo Jin is keeping it a secret from you?"

"Then it would be under the direct command of the Banner Master. It wouldn't be the place of a squad leader like me to pry."

Confronted by such rigid adherence to protocol, Yoo Seol-ah found herself utterly tongue-tied. She bit her lip, glaring daggers at Yeom Baek.

Hmph, he can be such a stubborn block of wood when he wants to be. Even if it wasn't anything serious, couldn't he at least ask to gauge the atmosphere?

Seeing her pout with her arms crossed, Yeom Baek clicked his tongue lightly.

"If you're so desperate to know, why don't you go ask him yourself instead of pestering me?"

"Huh?"

Yoo Seol-ah blinked, her wide eyes suddenly flashing with inspiration.

"Why didn't I think of that? I'll go find out right now!"

Springing up like a startled deer, she spun on her heel and dashed out of the office like a gust of wind.

Slam.

As the heavy door clicked shut and her hurried footsteps receded into the corridor, a bitter, self-deprecating smile formed on Yeom Baek's face.

Truth be told, from the moment he heard Dokgo Jin had been summoned to Tiger Gazing Tower, the most anxious person in the entire camp had been none other than Yeom Baek himself.

Wi Ji-woong's temperament was notoriously unpredictable.

It was entirely possible that the Blue Dragon or Black Tortoise Flag Masters had brokered some behind-the-scenes trade to acquire Dokgo Jin. Wi Ji-woong had no reason to indulge such requests ordinarily, but if they offered a political bargain tied to the broader balance of power within the alliance, the calculation could easily shift. Besides, no leader would ever turn a blind eye to a monstrous prodigy like Dokgo Jin.

"Phew..."

Gazing blankly at the closed door, Yeom Baek let out a long sigh of relief.

No news is good news. Since no special messenger or transfer decree has arrived, it must mean he intends to leave the kid with my unit.

At dawn the following day.

His mind at ease, Yeom Baek took a rare moment to savor a cup of hot tea in his quiet office.

Indeed. Constantly drilling until your muscles tear isn't the only way. A warrior needs to indulge in leisure once in a while.

It was precisely at that tranquil moment.

Knock, knock.

The gentle rapping fractured the morning silence.

"Squad Leader, it is messenger Mo Un-geon."

Yeom Baek's brow furrowed slightly.

A summons at this ungodly hour was almost never a herald of good fortune.

"Enter."

The door swung open, and Mo Un-geon stepped inside with a rigid, tense posture. In his hand rested a slender, unmarked envelope.

"An urgent dispatch from the Elders Council."

"From the Elders Council?"

Yeom Baek took the letter with an air of disbelief. As he inspected the envelope, his gaze sharpened into twin daggers.

There was no sender's seal, nor an official recipient's title. It was an entirely blank envelope—a strictly confidential, covert dispatch.

"...Step outside. See to it that no one enters."

"Understood."

Once Mo Un-geon withdrew and the door clicked shut, Yeom Baek cautiously broke the wax seal.

As he unfolded the parchment, his hand froze the moment his eyes registered the signature at the bottom.

Yong Mu-seong.

Grand Elder Yong?

The most influential Grand Elder of the Elders Council had bypassed all official alliance channels to send a private letter directly to a squad leader.

A heavy sense of foreboding seized Yeom Baek's chest as he swiftly skimmed through the contents.

Reading the concluding words, Yeom Baek's eyes sank into profound, chilling gravity.

Dark Sky Martial Emperor

Author | Jeongcheon

Publisher | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd.

Managing Editor | Editorial Department

Published by | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. - Dreambooks

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