Chapter 110
Chapter 110
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 110
Chapter Title: Part 4. Uninvited Guests Throw Ashes on the Feast (1)
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Normally, many people came and went from the Black Yang Sword Sect. But today, several times more than usual had gathered, setting up camp.
They were warriors dispatched from the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Families.
Originally, the meeting was supposed to be held at the World's Best Tower, but given the urgency of the situation, they had decided to convene at the Black Yang Sword Sect instead.
As a result, the Black Yang Sword Sect's warriors found themselves suddenly turned into errand boys, scurrying about busily.
Though the Black Yang Sword Sect was one of the Five Great Sects of Honam, it paled in comparison to today's guests. They were overwhelmed by the intense auras emanating from the warriors of the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Families, cowed into submission.
Moreover, the atmosphere was far from ordinary. The nerves of the warriors who had come to the Black Yang Sword Sect were on edge, and savage energies poured from their bodies.
It didn't even seem easy to dare strike up a conversation. In the end, the Black Yang Sword Sect warriors, despite being hosts, had no choice but to watch the guests' moods.
'Tch! So what if they're the Nine Great Sects?'
'How great can the Five Great Families be?'
They cursed inwardly a hundred, a thousand times, but didn't let a word slip out.
In the Black Yang Sword Sect's largest grand hall, around thirty people had gathered.
Nangong Chang and Nangong Su, O Gun-ui and Hae So-wol, Hyeonmu Daoist and Myeongyeong, the leaders dispatched from each sect, had taken their seats.
Representing the White Front Sect, Cho Yeon-un sat on one side. Tears welled up in his eyes as he secretly yawned.
'Boring.'
With his seniors not opening their mouths, Cho Yeon-un had no choice but to keep quiet as well.
Wishing this time would pass as quickly as possible, Cho Yeon-un glanced at the opposite side.
Where his gaze landed, the Black Yang Sword Sect's sect leader Sima Kyung-won, Silver Flower Pavilion's pavilion master Eun Il-myeong, and Healing Immortal Sect's sect leader Sim Wu-won each occupied a seat.
Eun So-cheong sat beside Eun Il-myeong. She was too young to attend such a gathering, but he had brought her along specifically to introduce her to the people present.
Cho Yeon-un and Eun So-cheong's eyes met.
'Tch!'
Cho Yeon-un clicked his tongue.
He understood Eun Il-myeong's intentions, but Eun So-cheong was still too young. She needed many more years to bear the weight of such an occasion.
—Just hang in there a bit longer. Later, when the chance comes, let's slip out together.
Cho Yeon-un sent a transmission to Eun So-cheong. She subtly nodded without showing it.
Cho Yeon-un's gaze now turned to Sima Kyung-won.
Sima Kyung-won was the master of the Black Yang Sword Sect. But given the occasion, not only had he yielded the grand hall, he was forced to sit in the lowest seat.
Though resentful, Sima Kyung-won couldn't voice his complaints. The same went for Eun Il-myeong and Sim Wu-won.
After all, the Murim Alliance entering Honam Province was an unstoppable tidal wave.
'Sitting at the table before the Murim Alliance is formed is worlds apart from scrambling for a seat afterward.'
'Those who secure their stake in the Murim Alliance now and those who don't—the gap will widen, eventually becoming impossible to close.'
That was their judgment, so they decided to make the most of this opportunity. Swallowing their humiliation, they took the lowly seats.
Since the meeting had been called so hastily, some sects hadn't arrived yet. Among the Nine Great Sects, Kunlun Sect, Wudang Sect, and Shaolin Temple were still en route; among the Five Great Families, Jinju Eon Family and Hebei Paeng Family hadn't arrived.
Kunlun, Shaolin, and Jinju Eon were delayed due to the distance, while Hebei Paeng had been annihilated on the way. The Wudang Sect's experts were still coming.
Despite the crowd, no one rashly spoke first. They all recognized the gravity of the situation.
Honestly, until arriving here, many of them had been skeptical about establishing the Murim Alliance.
The word "Demonic Cult" inspired great fear, but they hadn't confirmed its reality yet.
Forming the Murim Alliance was no easy task. Even with the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Families at the core, it would ultimately require the unity of all murim.
Naturally, enormous funds and manpower would be needed to create it, and even more to maintain it.
No matter how much wealth the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Families had amassed, bearing that burden was no simple matter.
That was why people thought confirming the Demonic Cult's existence should come first. Forming the alliance could wait.
But the situation had changed.
Hebei Paeng's elites had been wiped out, and Wudang had suffered heavy losses. The Demonic Cult was no longer someone else's problem.
"Hmm."
Someone let out a low groan, stifled by the oppressive silence. Taking it as a cue, others began to speak one after another.
"Whew! The Demonic Cult, of all things. What a bolt from the blue."
"It's not confirmed yet, is it? We can't be sure until Wudang's Cheongheo Daoist arrives."
The exchange was between Zhongnan Sect elder Jin Do-kyeong and Jeomchang Sect elder Yu Jin-sang. Both had come as their sects' representatives and chief negotiators.
Starting with their conversation, the hall turned as noisy as a rural marketplace. People raised their voices, sharing their thoughts.
O Gun-ui looked at Nangong Chang.
Nangong Chang had remained silent thus far. His mind was a tangled mess, not yet sorted.
He was trying to stay quiet and judge the situation coolly.
It was then.
"Cheongheo Daoist from Wudang Sect has arrived."
The voice of a Black Yang Sword Sect warrior came from outside.
Instantly, the hall fell silent as if by magic.
The doors opened, and an old Daoist in a Daoist robe emblazoned with the Eight Trigrams strode in.
His piercing eyes gleamed beneath his Daoist cap, and his face was strikingly flushed like autumn leaves.
He was Wudang Sect's Cheongheo Daoist.
Those seated rose one after another at his entrance.
"Cheongheo Daoist, it's been a while."
"Come in, Cheongheo Daoist."
Their treatment of Cheongheo Daoist was exceedingly courteous.
He was an elder of Wudang Sect—one of murim's twin pillars alongside Shaolin—and called the Supreme Sword of Hugwang.
The weight of his name surpassed everyone present.
"This old Daoist Cheongheo greets you all. Sorry for being late."
"No need. We heard about the ambush. It's a relief you're safe."
Cheongheo Daoist smiled at Nangong Chang's calm reply.
"Thank you, Nangong Elder."
"Please, take a seat. We have much we want to hear."
"I have much to say as well."
Cheongheo Daoist sat in the empty seat as he replied.
Now, with everyone gathered, the proper discussion could begin.
Impatient Jeomchang Sect elder Yu Jin-sang asked first.
"Was it truly a Demonic Cult ambush, Cheongheo Daoist?"
No one stopped him. They were just as curious.
Cheongheo Daoist scanned the faces in the hall one by one. He saw the faint glint of fear in their eyes.
Most here were murim's esteemed elders. Yet even they wavered at the mere word "Demonic Cult."
'Whew!'
Cheongheo Daoist sighed inwardly.
He understood their feelings, but seeing them quake before even fighting filled him with dismay.
Still, he couldn't show it, so he composed his expression and spoke.
"On the road here, we were ambushed by unidentified foes. But whether they were truly Demonic Cultists is not yet certain."
"Why is that?"
Doubt flickered across their faces.
"Those who attacked us were undoubtedly strong. Two first-generation disciples and five second-generation disciples of our sect were gravely wounded—that says it all. Yet I'm still not convinced their martial arts were truly Demonic Cult techniques."
Cheongheo Daoist recalled the masked assailants.
There had been three masked figures attacking Wudang warriors. The leader was terrifyingly powerful, making his teeth chatter.
While the leader held Cheongheo Daoist, the others struck at Wudang's disciples.
Fortunately, the disciples banded together to repel them, but not without significant casualties.
Cheongheo Daoist himself had sustained non-trivial internal injuries from the leader, but managed to drive him off.
As the tide turned against them, the masked ones fled, allowing Cheongheo Daoist to rally his warriors and reach this place.
Cheongheo Daoist's gaze turned to Mount Hua Sect's Hyeonmu Daoist.
"Has your sect's Hyeonso Daoist come here by any chance?"
"Pardon?"
"With his discerning eye as a martial uncle, he could surely identify Demonic Cult techniques. Is he here?"
"Hyeonso... Senior Brother has not come. In recent years, almost no one in our sect has seen him."
"I see."
Cheongheo Daoist closed his eyes briefly.
'Is it still because of losing his disciple?'
The memory of that day remained vivid.
Everyone had turned away from him.
He had turned away too.
It had been an unavoidable choice to save disciple Yeon So-ha, but it didn't ease his heart.
Seeing Hyeonso Daoist's tears afterward made it worse. He hadn't been able to contact him since.
Until coming here, he had hoped he might see Hyeonso Daoist.
But Hyeonso Daoist hadn't come.
If even Mount Hua Sect rarely saw him, one could scarcely imagine his sense of loss.
'Whew!'
As Cheongheo Daoist sighed again, a man with bandages around his chest burst through the door.
He was Paeng Gwan-young, the sole survivor of Hebei Paeng Family.
Paeng Gwan-young cried out.
"They were definitely Demonic Cult remnants."
"Young hero Paeng."
"Who else but the Demonic Cult could slaughter Hebei Paeng's elites like rotten straw?"
Paeng Gwan-young's anguished roar shook their hearts.
The fury of a man who had lost everything was immense. With bloodshot eyes, he stared at each person in the hall deliberately.
"Why would the Demonic Cult target Paeng Family? To stop the Murim Alliance from forming."
"Young hero Paeng, calm down first."
"Nangong hero. We can't delay the Murim Alliance's formation. We must decide here and now."
"I know, so please calm down for a moment, young hero Paeng."
Nangong Chang tried to soothe Paeng Gwan-young. But the more he did, the louder Paeng Gwan-young's voice grew.
"You think it'll end with Paeng Family? They'll target all of murim, just like before. We must form the Murim Alliance. Only then can we stand against them."
Paeng Gwan-young's voice echoing in the grand hall made Han So-yu frown briefly outside.
His blood-curdling tone shook her to the core.
She believed the Murim Alliance's formation was a matter of time.
Hebei Paeng's forces had been annihilated. Paeng Gwan-young was certain the culprits were the Demonic Cult.
Likely, everyone inside felt the same deep down.
Of course, much remained before the alliance formed—stakes for each sect, contribution amounts, countless procedures and deliberations. The road was long.
Then Won Yul approached her.
"Ma'am, aren't you going in?"
"No need. The conclusion's obvious; no point confirming it inside."
"Still..."
"It's more comfortable here."
"Understood."
With Han So-yu cutting him off like that, Won Yul couldn't press further.
They were in the training ground outside the grand hall.
Besides them, many warriors from the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Families were there.
A few acquaintances exchanged warm greetings, but most eyed each other awkwardly, like cows staring at a chicken.
'Still, when the Murim Alliance forms, these will be the first to join.'
As Han So-yu lost herself in thought,
Boom!
"Aaagh!"
"Ambush!"
A massive explosion rocked the Black Yang Sword Sect's main gate, followed by screams.
"What?"
Han So-yu's face paled.
Crash!
Then, with a roar, the walls surrounding the grand hall crumbled.
Whoosh!
A powerful energy wave surged in like a tsunami.
"What is this?"
Instinctively, Han So-yu crossed her arms to shield her face and chest.
Boom!
"Urk!"
With a stifled groan, Han So-yu's body was pushed back. Her arms swelled up instantly.
"Not bad."
At that moment, a low voice sounded as a figure appeared over the wall.
A man wearing a golden mask—the Golden Horse Lion.
Three masked figures followed behind the Golden Horse Lion.