Upheaval at Heavenly Mountain
Cheon Yu was silent for a long while. The sheer fact that the entire Sword Altar Sect had turned apostate was shock enough on its own.
Had it been only the sect leader acting as Cheongung's plant, the blow might have landed softer. But an entire sect—one of the Seven Great Sects, no less—had been serving as Cheongung's underlings.
"And not a single scrap of hard evidence?"
"Only circumstantial proof, enough to be certain. But we cannot move rashly. Until Cheongung itself has been publicly revealed, wiping out the Sword Altar Sect would drive the relationship between Guangming Palace and the Seven Great Sects into the ground."
There was nothing wrong with that assessment. Word of Cheongung's existence had only just begun to circulate. If they invoked that name to burn the Sword Altar Sect to ash, even the sects most friendly to Guangming Palace would flinch.
There were things a Cult Leader could do, and things he could not. Without physical evidence, touching the Sword Altar Sect would only summon a backlash.
"The Sword Altar Sect's successor will appear at the Young Leader Competition. One way or another, I will secure hard proof."
"It always seems I am loading my burdens onto your shoulders."
"The only words Your Lordship need speak to me are commands. This is not a burden—it is simply the duty of a subordinate."
Cheon Yu, whose mood had been foul, recovered his smile. From where he stood, the present situation looked like this: after a long stretch of tedium, a young man he genuinely liked had appeared. That young man offered him absolute loyalty, and he was a candidate for the next Cult Leader with limitless potential. To Cheon Yu, Shin Gi-woon was rain after drought.
"I look forward to your performance. You may withdraw."
"Loyalty!"
Leaving behind the Cult Leader's hall—where a short audience had carried a great deal of weight—Shin Gi-woon and his companions returned to their quarters.
All three of them clearly had much to say, yet none of them opened their mouths. Each needed time to sort through their own thoughts.
That the Sword Altar Sect served Cheongung was news to them as well. Only now, perhaps, were they beginning to grasp it: Cheongung was no ordinary power. It was a force capable of pressuring the three great pillars that divided the murim—Orthodox, Unorthodox, and Demonic. No longer something to be taken lightly.
Shin Gi-woon gave them the space to think it through. There was no need to rush. Until the Young Leader Competition ended, the Myeolcheon Squad would remain on standby at Cheon-san. Their captain becoming Young Leader came first. They could finish organizing their thoughts before the competition was over.
Ryu-jin. The time to start your revenge has finally come.
I've been waiting forever for you to say that.
Ryu-jin had grown markedly quieter of late. She, too, had realized it: all-out war with Cheongung was about to begin.
She was attempting something inside his upper dantian. He did not know what it was, but it posed him no harm. Trust aside, the seal binding her was rock-solid. Ryu-jin would never do anything that hurt Shin Gi-woon. Help him, maybe—never harm him.
The Young Leader Competition… I wonder what kind of people I'll run into this time.
The odds of an Extreme Demon–level expert appearing were low. Even so, Shin Gi-woon expected to draw the heaviest scrutiny of anyone in the competition.
A rising expert backed by the Cult Leader himself. The sole Extreme Demon–level fighter inside the contest.
That alone was more than enough for the checks and pressure to come crashing down like a storm.
"Haa…"
A man in a wind-cloak sat in an inn, nursing a drink. His sighs ran so deep that no one dared approach him.
And yet every eye in the place was fixed on him. Men who sighed like that usually tried to drown their pain in liquor—except the drink this man was nursing was not alcohol at all. Not even plum-blossom wine, thick with its characteristic fragrance.
Just plum juice. Finding someone who sighed as if his entire life were already over while drinking plain plum juice was rare enough that the man was thoroughly ignored. Half-convinced he was simply mad, the inn's patrons gradually looked away.
The man—Myeong-seol—was drowning in heart demons.
Just what is happening to the jianghu?
A few days earlier, upheaval had struck Mount Hua. Elder Hwaseon had colluded with an outside force and tried to slaughter the Plum Blossom Swordsmen. On top of that, a rising expert from the Demonic Cult had appeared and showered Mount Hua with a fortune in wealth.
The rumors never spread. Mount Hua had deliberately buried the incident. But Myeong-seol was left with questions.
Why Elder Hwaseon had betrayed Mount Hua remained a complete mystery. And through it all, the Sect Leader had kept absolute silence—clearly knowing the reason, yet refusing to speak a word. No matter how many times Myeong-seol asked, the answer never changed.
Go back. This is not something you are ready to know. And it is not something Mount Hua should involve itself in.
What kind of matter could Mount Hua possibly be forbidden from touching…
The result was a shallow heart demon. Myeong-seol himself did not realize it, but left alone, it would slowly gnaw away at him—a faint, persistent corruption.
Wanting to vent and having nowhere to do it, Myeong-seol committed an act of rebellion he had never once allowed himself in his life. He still could not bring himself to drink alcohol—but no one in Shaanxi would ever have guessed that the leader of the Plum Blossom Swordsmen was sitting in Hua-eum County, identity hidden behind a wind-cloak, doing this.
That was when it happened.
"Proprietor. A bottle of Dugang wine over here."
Someone settled in beside Myeong-seol and ordered as if it were the most natural thing in the world. For a split second Myeong-seol almost mistook him for a fellow Mount Hua disciple who had come down the mountain—until he saw the face. A complete stranger.
Their eyes met, and the unfamiliar man gave a crooked little smile.
"A junior with a whole life still ahead of him. What's with all the heavy sighing?"
"…Who are you?"
"Just a pitiful man wandering the jianghu because he can't find a place to settle, I suppose?"
"I don't know what you're after, but I'm in no mood for conversation. Leave."
Myeong-seol turned his face away. The man had the look of a swindler written all over him. A beggar would have been one thing—but he did not look short on money.
Then Myeong-seol went rigid in his seat.
Want to know about Cheongung?
"…!"
Words he had never expected spilled from the man's mouth—straight into his mind. Could this man be one of Cheongung's agents?
He had come down the mountain in such a hurry that he had not even brought his sword. A dozen scenarios flashed through Myeong-seol's head. Even if his identity was exposed, he would have to kill this man somehow—
Thinking of killing me?
…Identify yourself. Are you one of Cheongung's people?
No. I'm the man who hates Cheongung more than anyone else in this world.
Myeong-seol turned back and met the man's gaze. It was burning. A deep, absolute resolve to erase Cheongung from existence, right then and there, poured out of those eyes. That was enough. Myeong-seol let go of his wariness.
Those eyes could not have been faking it. Which left a new question.
What do you want with me?
Myeong-seol, leader of the Plum Blossom Swordsmen. The jianghu is in crisis. Come with me. You won't lose anything by it.
A man who, out of nowhere, wanted him as a companion. Myeong-seol considered it carefully.
He could not read the man's energy at all. That meant an expert of at least the Hwa-gyeong realm. Unaffiliated Hwa-gyeong masters often held places among the Hundred Greatest Experts Under Heaven—yet when Myeong-seol glanced at the man's back, a long spear came into view. And as far as he could recall, among the Hundred Greatest…
There was not a single spear master. Just who was this man?
This isn't a threat. It's a request.
A request?
As leader of the Plum Blossom Swordsmen, if you stay on Mount Hua, you can keep yourself clear of the fire. But if you come with me, you'll be walking straight into the pit of hell.
What exactly is your goal, that you would…
I'll tell you everything from here. About Cheongung—and about the plan they're holding.
The man's eyes lit up. Myeong-seol swallowed dryly and focused on the sound transmission.
As he listened, Myeong-seol flinched more than once. More than once he came within a hair of blurting something out loud instead of answering through transmission.
The story the man told was that shocking. It shattered every boundary of Myeong-seol's common sense. He even entertained the bizarre notion that it might all be a lie—but the man's words were unmistakably true. By the time he finished listening, Myeong-seol was reeling from the blow.
That is the truth of the jianghu as you know it.
That… Why would the Martial Alliance…
You're a martial artist yourself. You can tell whether I'm lying. Every word I said is fact.
Having heard it all, Myeong-seol swallowed a low sound. Not a single falsehood in the man's account. If Cheongung's plan unfolded exactly as described… a storm of blood would sweep the jianghu.
And this man was a far greater expert than he had first guessed. He might even be one of those legendary masters who had succeeded in returning to youth.
I need to confirm one thing before I go any further.
Looking into Myeong-seol's eyes, the man understood. The decision had already been made.
Go ahead. What do you want to ask?
If what you've said is true, then you should be the only spear master left in this world… What is your relationship to Young Hero Un?
Young Hero Un? Ah—you mean that kid.
The man tilted his head, then suddenly snorted a quiet laugh, his expression loosening.
The one the current jianghu can't do without.
…?
Just leave it at that.
"Paejon. A guest has arrived."
"A guest?"
"He calls himself an envoy."
Paejon Nak Cheong-su—one of the Two Stars, One Venerable, and One Demon, and the Alliance Lord of the Unorthodox Sado Alliance.
At his subordinate's report, Nak Cheong-su had the guest brought in.
The visitor was Gon Ryung, Envoy of Cheongung.
He looked up at Nak Cheong-su with an expressionless face and spoke.
"A mission, First Martial General."
"A mission?"
"Five Martial Generals and five thousand troops will accompany you. Wipe the Demonic Cult from this world."