Chapter 225
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 225
Chapter Title: Golden Heaven (5)
The logging camps stood motionless.
They had been buzzing as if ready to spring into action at any moment, only to fall eerily silent in the blink of an eye, as though nothing had happened.
Loggers felled trees.
The cut timber was floated down the river, then shipped out to sea.
Other hillsides bustled with workers planting new saplings to replace what had been harvested, ensuring a steady supply.
The mountains looked no different from any other day.
There wasn't a single trace of martial artists, swords, or warriors—nothing to evoke the world of the jianghu.
Thud! Thwack! Thud! Thwack!
Down by the seaside, shipwrights swarmed like ants, tirelessly building vessels.
The Great Sea Shipyard!
If Gwangju owed its livelihood to Elder Sumar, then a dozen coastal villages thrived thanks to the Great Sea Shipyard.
Currently, they were constructing seven massive wooden freighters.
Each one was vast enough to carry at least three hundred men. And considering these were cargo ships, not warships, it was easy to imagine the sheer volume of goods they could haul.
The ships they built would sail the East and South Seas.
"What a gloomy sky. Looks like rain tomorrow."
"Starting this evening, they say. Gonna pour pretty hard."
"So we get the day off tomorrow?"
"Probably gotta take it easy for a bit."
"If you're bored, swing by my place. Let's play some go-stop."
"Might just do that."
The laborers grinned brightly, without a hint of worry clouding their faces.
These were no warriors. Most had never even laid eyes on a weapon like a sword.
They simply built ships and, on rainy days, fiddled with games like go-stop.
The harbor ran on order.
There were rules, and goods had to be bought and sold by them.
When order broke down, things got exhausting fast.
Elder Sumar maintained the harbor's order. Even launching a single small boat required his permission.
The ones upholding harbor order... the Parakho thugs!
Strictly speaking, Elder Sumar had no ties to the Parakho. He didn't know who they were or care what they did.
Permission needed even for one boat?
If Elder Sumar heard that, he'd chuckle and wave it off as nonsense.
On the surface, he had no connection whatsoever to the Parakho.
Yet everyone at the harbor knew the Parakho moved at Elder Sumar's whim. Even if it wasn't strictly true, that's how it was perceived.
They were the shadows ruling the harbor by night.
Elder Sumar was guessed to control around twenty such harbors this way.
Of course, it was just a guess. Outwardly, not a single one linked back to him.
The Parakho wielded force.
They carried blades and didn't hesitate to injure or kill.
Wherever fights broke out or trouble brewed, Parakho were always there to intervene.
Today, though, the Parakho stayed put.
Their world was one where incidents could erupt anywhere, anytime—but today seemed it would pass peacefully.
It was quiet.
The last place Fox set foot was a massive estate by the seaside.
The grounds alone spanned thousands of pyeong, with over thirty buildings of various sizes. Lights burned day and night, and it was said to house nearly a thousand residents full-time.
No signboard or plaque marked it, but it was effectively the headquarters running Elder Sumar's maritime fleet.
People called it the Main Base.
Martial artists resided at the Main Base.
Running a sea fleet meant frequent pirate encounters. Smart ones fled at the sight of Elder Sumar's flag, but the foolish charged in.
In those cases, a harsh lesson was needed as an example.
Annihilation!
Show them what happened to those who touched Elder Sumar's caravans.
Martial artists were mobilized for such tasks. They boarded ships on every voyage. At least a dozen per vessel, and even the captain couldn't command them.
They were at the Main Base.
Alongside the Parakho who dominated the harbors, they formed Elder Sumar's ready force.
Practically all his power was stockpiled there.
Rumors even circulated that toppling the Main Base would ruin Elder Sumar.
And now, that vital place lay right under his nose.
"Ha! Impenetrable fortress."
Fox smacked his lips.
At first glance, the Main Base looked laughably lax. Low walls, no guards patrolling. Lanterns glowed, but late at night, no one passed by.
Yet those who knew better saw it for the hell it was.
The low walls hid at least a dozen traps.
From crossbow launchers firing hidden darts to poison sprayers—everything was there.
Beyond the walls was hell too.
Hard to confirm from afar, but a stretch just past the wall seemed infested with venomous insects.
No doubt a martial artist oversaw that wall.
"It's a dragon's lair and tiger's den, sure... but not Forty Thousand. Can't fool my eyes. So where the hell are they hiding? This is a pain to track."
Fox grumbled.
Elder Sumar's true power lay with the Forty Thousand.
There were warriors called the Four Heavenly Sovereigns. Not mere Heavenly Kings, but Sovereigns—peak experts comparable to the Five Supremes of the murim.
There were the Ten Leaders, dubbed the Ten Heads.
These ten instructors trained every martial artist under Elder Sumar.
If the Four Sovereigns were the final bastion, the Ten Instructors effectively commanded the forces.
Beneath them were the Thousand Warriors.
A thousand elite fighters.
Some ten or twenty rode the ships battling pirates. Some stayed at the Main Base, others controlled the harbor Parakho.
All top-class warriors.
The Main Base Fox watched couldn't house the Thousand Warriors. There simply wasn't space.
Not physical room for bodies—martial artists claimed domains, like beasts marking territory.
Even minimized, the Main Base held maybe a hundred at most.
The Forty Thousand weren't here.
"Still, how's this Sumar guy lived so far? Crisis hits, and not one steps up. Everyone's just weighing pros and cons. I sure as hell won't live like that."
Fox clicked his tongue and stood.
"Pour me another."
An elderly man with a wide forehead and narrow jaw—forming an inverted triangle face—held out his cup.
"You're drinking too much, sir."
A young woman sitting demurely beside him smiled sweetly.
"It's not poison... One or two more won't kill me. Fill it up."
Only then did she lift the bottle with both hands and pour.
Glug glug!
The crystal-clear liquor filled the cup to the brim.
Gulp!
The old man tossed back the shot in one go.
"You'll get drunk like that."
The woman quickly picked up a piece of meat and fed it to him.
He opened his mouth without protest.
"Seems everyone's biding their time for a day without you around, Elder. No one's making a move."
A calm voice drifted in.
"What about you? Would you throw your life away for me?"
The old man wrapped his arm around the waist of the young woman—barely into her early twenties, fresh-faced and innocent.
"Want empty words, or the truth?"
She murmured, burying her face in his chest.
"Eh? Haha! Give me both. What's empty, what's real?"
"Just say the word. My life's worthless... I'll give it anytime you need."
"Haha! Hahaha! Good. Now tell me the truth."
"That was the truth. Now for the empty words."
"Oh?"
"Forget riches and glory. Let's run off somewhere remote, just us. I'll take good care of you. Hunt every day, keep the meat dishes coming."
She whispered.
"Hahaha! Even as empty words, that sounds nice. Haha!"
The old man stroked the head of the woman nestled in his chest.
She pressed her face deeper, as if burrowing into his heart.
"Even that dimwit at the logging camp's got his eyes blazing. The rest go without saying. Haha! But those folks... they're no fools. If they were real idiots, they'd have charged straight to Anpyeong Tower without a second thought. Ha!"
The old man gently held her, patting her back.
"You've come up with quite the amusing game. Alright, let's hear your take. What's your real intent, and what's just talk?"
The old man posed the question to the empty air.
"Target's abilities assessed. Ready to eliminate at any time."
A cold voice replied flatly.
"Empty words or truth?"
"Truth."
"Give me the empty words."
"Target's abilities assessed. Ready to eliminate at any time."
"Tch! Dull as ever."
The old man tsked.
Bind mouth and heart as one, and you have loyalty.
Loyalty means words matching heart. Words and heart apart? No loyalty.
Around Elder Sumar were at least a few who embodied such loyalty.
Did he trust them? He never showed it.
Did he distrust them? Of course not outwardly.
Who he trusted or not was Elder Sumar's secret alone. It included even the woman now in his arms—and those who shared his bed.
"That's just how he is. Doesn't know empty words. Same for you. Right?"
The old man ran his fingers through her hair.
"The Sword Sovereign... he's too rigid sometimes. A bit boring."
She whispered.
"Never chased fun in his life... Sword's no toy. Find joy in wielding it, and you're a Sword Fiend, not Sovereign."
"Is that so?"
"Hahaha!"
The old man laughed.
"What's your plan?"
The one called Sword Sovereign asked coolly.
"Hmm... What to do? Since they've come all the way to Gwangju, I should play along a bit."
"..."
"Can't just swing wildly, though... They're not enemies yet. Need to hear their reason first. And one more thing..."
The old man's eyes gleamed.
"If I play it right, this could draw out the Plum Trinity."
"Too risky. Best leave the Plum Trinity to the Heavenly Commander."
"Should I just stick to business?"
"..."
"Heh heh! Right. Caterpillars eat mulberry leaves, merchants do deals. Listen, Sword Sovereign—drawing out the Plum Trinity means new business. Not to fight, but to trade. Hahaha!"
The old man laughed heartily, then sobered suddenly.
"Starve 'em out."
"Pardon?"
"Starve them first. See if the Plum Trinity crawls out. Judge based on their moves."
"Understood."
The old man waved him off, signaling to leave.
"Liquor's hitting me. Better turn in early tonight."
"I'll escort you to bed."
The intimate exchange between the old man and woman echoed softly.