The Banquet of False Peace
“This identity is genuine... right?”
…
My expression was far from pleasant.
Reading the discomfort on my face, the private soldier hastily waved his hands and scrambled to explain in a flustered voice.
“Ah, no, I’m not doubting you at all! The fact that you’re already on this list means a certain level of verification has already been completed. Could you come this way, please?”
I had already undergone no fewer than four inspections.
In front of me stood a man who looked like a private soldier hired by Unwol Jiju, holding the invitation list and carefully cross-checking each name.
The soldier once again politely asked for understanding.
“Given the circumstances, I’m sure you understand why the checks have to be so thorough. This is the final step. Your name is—”
“Bi Ryu.”
I introduced myself again with a small sigh.
“Fourth-rank field dispatch investigator of the Blood Death Sect, Bi Ryu.”
“The Blood Death Sect… you say.”
“I have past ties with the Jegal Family and have been staying with them as a guest retainer. Is there a problem—am I not on the list?”
At my question the soldier waved his hands.
“Not at all. You’re clearly on the list, and you’ve already been authenticated several times in other regions.”
“Then?”
The inspection was dragging on longer than expected, and my temper was starting to fray.
Seeing my face, the soldier grew flustered.
“It’s not that there’s a problem—I was just a little surprised by your background. The Blood Death Sect is an assassin group, after all. The Jegal Family’s habit of inviting guests without regard for status is famous throughout the martial world, but… anyway, please go in. Next.”
Neither family head of the two great houses was attending the banquet for certain reasons.
In their place, the eldest daughter Jegal Sea represented the Jegal Family, while the eldest son Hwangbo Cheonhyeon led the core figures of the Hwangbo Family.
The banquet’s original purpose was supposed to be a place of harmony.
Against the backdrop of the hair-trigger standoff between the Jegal and Hwangbo Families, Unwol Jiju had arranged this gathering under the theme of reconciliation between the two camps, held at a mansion belonging to Unwol Jiju itself. Security was correspondingly brutal.
Both families had agreed that every single person—including their guests—would attend completely unarmed, without a single exception.
Wanting to avoid any unnecessary trouble in this razor-edged atmosphere, I had even left behind my only real piece of defensive gear, the Chiljong-heukjusa-gap. The real problem, however, was the identity I had presented.
“Well done, really well done. You swaggered around saying you had the ‘perfect’ identity ready, and it just had to be from the Blood Death Sect? The inspection alone took over an hour.”
The woman in the white crane hat—Jegal Sea—stood with her arms crossed and poured out her scolding the moment I finally cleared the checks.
“Thanks to you, I, the eldest daughter, had to send everyone else in first and wait here for half an hour.”
“At least we got through. That’s something.”
Beside her, silver hair fluttering, Eun Seollyeong confirmed no one else was nearby and spoke in her usual calm tone.
“According to Jegal Sea’s information network, after the list was drawn up Unwol Jiju spent a full two days thoroughly investigating whether each identity was truly reliable. If you’d offered some vague, rootless identity, they would have found an excuse to make trouble.”
“No, but seriously—how does a young master of the Moyong Family end up holding an official identity in the strongest assassin organization in the martial world?”
I let out a low hum and answered simply.
“It’s complicated to explain, but I have a certain deep connection—one that stabbed straight into the heart—with someone high up over there.”
Jegal Sea’s face twisted sharply.
“What? Heart? Did this man just come from reciting poetry in some pavilion? What kind of cheap romantic metaphor is that?”
“…It’s not a metaphor.”
Eun Seollyeong pointed at my lower face.
“Interesting. A dark crimson face covering is rare.”
I touched the unfamiliar mask clinging tightly over my lower face.
Jegal Sea rested a hand on her hip and sighed.
“Hah. It’s not like I’m some black-path boss, yet the man and woman standing on either side of me both have their faces covered.”
“Come to think of it, why is Eun Seollyeong covering her face?”
Eun Seollyeong also seemed a little unused to her own appearance; she brushed her fingertips under her eyes.
Unlike usual, she had covered her face from below the eyes down past the neck with a half-sheer, fluttering face veil.
Compared to my cheap, murky blood-colored mask, the fabric veiling her lower face caught the sunlight and even sparkled.
Above it, her long, sharp eyes—reminiscent of a pure white silver fox—gave her an aloof, lofty air.
Men passing by after clearing the inspection would freeze for a moment as if time had stopped, staring at Eun Seollyeong, only to hurry away under Jegal Sea’s glare.
At my question the veil stirred slightly as she gave a small nod toward Jegal Sea beside her.
“If those pig-like Hwangbo Family bastards saw Eun Seollyeong’s bare face, anyone who couldn’t guess how they’d react would have the brains of an ant, not a human. On top of that, you two had a run-in with Unwol Jiju’s chief steward on the way here. We’ve confirmed he shouldn’t be present, but it’s still better to be careful.”
With a banquet of honeyed words and hidden daggers against the Hwangbo Family ahead of us, Jegal Sea’s mood looked thoroughly foul.
“Anyway, before we split up I’ll say it one more time. Both of you, listen carefully. Surround us.”
At Jegal Sea’s order her personal guards casually pretended to chat among themselves while forming a natural circle around us, keeping other guests from approaching.
The irritation on Jegal Sea’s face flipped completely.
“Once we separate here, we won’t meet again until the banquet ends and we reconvene at the main house.”
I swallowed.
Eun Seollyeong nodded as well.
“I’ve already memorized every instruction you gave. No need to worry.”
“The seating arrangements are exactly as I told you. There won’t be any changes. I pulled every string I could. We’ll sit within each other’s line of sight and enjoy the banquet.”
Jegal Sea’s face turned as cold as winter as she calmly went over the points again.
I looked at her and asked once more.
“The distance is three jang, correct?”
Jegal Sea nodded.
“That’s the absolute distance Eun Seollyeong said would let her intervene no matter what variables arise, so I made sure to keep that. But as you know, there’s some event in the middle and I still have no idea what it is. So the basic premise is that each of us protects our own body. They insisted unusually strongly that every single attendee be unarmed—rare even in the martial world—but you never know how the world works.”
The situational judgment and crisis-response ability Eun Seollyeong had guaranteed in Jegal Sea were truly peerless.
Before the banquet she had somehow obtained and shared with us the entire program, every seating position, and the list of important attendees—information that should never have leaked.
On top of that she had compressed possible emergencies into eleven scenarios, grouped them into three bundles, and pre-assigned the order of actions and rally points for each.
“Still, wasn’t this supposed to be a place of harmony? These countermeasures are almost at the level of preparing to meet an enemy general. Isn’t this a bit much?”
At my words Jegal Sea’s eyes flew wide as if I’d said something absurd.
“Do you know the words a strategist most wants to hear? It’s lying down in bed after the day’s work and thinking, ‘Ah, I wasted effort making plans I didn’t even need.’”
…
“In my view this banquet started under the pretext of mediating peace between the Hwangbo and Jegal Families after their clash. But I don’t think that naively.”
Jegal Sea’s eyes gleamed coldly.
“The host, Unwol Jiju, is openly on the Hwangbo Family’s side. Right now the two houses are locked in a power struggle over Shaanxi Province, but both are watching each other carefully and neither has made a big move. Big moves create big openings. I believe they’ll use this banquet for some kind of show of force—something insulting and provocative enough to force a major reaction from us.”
“Aren’t you overthinking it?”
“If it were me, I would definitely do it. Which means the other side has a high enough chance of doing the same.”
She was clearly no martial artist.
Yet in that single sentence I could vividly feel that in her world she had survived and grown by enduring hells worse than anything I had known, fighting fiercely every step of the way.
“By the way, something’s been bothering me.”
Jegal Sea stared at me steadily.
“Why does your face look so haggard and swollen? Did you barely sleep last night?”
…
I rubbed my puffy, heavy eyes.
“Couldn’t sleep for various reasons. Several of them.”
“You fell asleep lying flat with your hands clasped, staring at the ceiling, then kicked the blanket off several times while covered in cold sweat. I covered you four times.”
Eun Seollyeong said it as if it were nothing.
Jegal Sea looked back and forth between me and Eun Seollyeong.
“Ahh.”
The sharp-witted woman seemed to grasp something immediately; she covered her mouth and chuckled softly.
…
I didn’t bother offering any further excuses.
…If only.
I wished the reason Jegal Sea had guessed was the entire reason I had slept so poorly.
…
Eun Seollyeong simply watched me with quiet eyes as the dark look settled over my face.
I had suffered nightmares all night long.
No—calling them nightmares was wrong. They were the vivid past memories of a certain man.
As the Heavenly Demon’s power to copy martial arts grew and strengthened, it had also enhanced the ability to pull in the memories tied to a copied technique.
And yesterday, after the power had strengthened, I had for the first time completely copied another person’s martial art against my will—and experienced the aftereffects.
…Worst feeling imaginable. Please let nothing go wrong.
I pressed my hot forehead and tried to shake off the intense memories still circling in my head.
“Well then, Bi Ryu—eat plenty of delicious food. It’s not our family’s money anyway. Stuff yourself. And remember: don’t start any trouble.”
“I will protect Jegal Sea while always keeping watch over you. If anything happens, cut the silver thread and run to me. Understood?”
Even in the same farewell situation the two women delivered perfectly different parting words that matched their natures exactly.
The reason we were separating was simple.
Jegal Sea was heading to the special seats where the honored guests gathered, and Eun Seollyeong—attending under a special identity Jegal Sea had created based on past connections—was going to those same special seats.
Strictly speaking I was an outsider invited as a guest of the Jegal Family, a martial artist invited one step removed, so I was directed to the general seats.
The banquet had been prepared in the garden of a grand mansion owned by Unwol Jiju.
In the center lay an open space paved with flat stone slabs that looked as if they had once been used for unarmed sparring.
Tables were arranged in a ring around it, laden with wine and food.
Those must be the special seats.
A raised marble platform looked down over the open space, set with tables so the high-ranking guests could enjoy wine and food while watching everything below.
Even from a distance the quality of their clothing alone made it obvious that the high officials of the Jegal Family, the Hwangbo Family, and Unwol Jiju were gathered there.
Even across that distance Eun Seollyeong instantly caught my gaze and gave a small nod.
She’s still watching me.
Beside her, members of the Hwangbo Family were straining every nerve to strike up even a single conversation with the veiled Eun Seollyeong.
Outwardly Jegal Sea was smiling amiably and chatting with the Hwangbo group as if everything were perfectly harmonious.
“…and so, for the peace of the martial world—and more specifically, to arrange reconciliation between the Jegal Family and the Hwangbo Family, the masters of Shaanxi—our Unwol Jiju has prepared…”
In the open space ahead, a man who appeared to belong to Unwol Jiju was energetically delivering the opening remarks of the banquet.
Around him, carefully selected courtesans from the pleasure houses performed graceful dances to lively music.
“Kyaaah! The courtesans of Shaanxi really are something else!”
“Unwol Jiju said there’d be an interesting spectacle today and insisted we come—he wasn’t lying!”
The men packing the general seats whistled and cheered.
An interesting spectacle?
I turned the word that had brushed past my ear over in my mind.
The atmosphere of the banquet was steadily heating up.
This was the first time I had ever attended such a massive banquet.
The quality of the food was high, and there were no riffraff.
In a way, anyone of any real standing in Shaanxi was probably here.
“Young master? Shall I pour you more wine?”
A courtesan in sheer clothing, carrying a small wine jar and pouring drinks, smiled softly and spoke to me.
“I don’t drink.”
I answered in a stiff voice without even glancing at her.
The courtesan flinched.
“Heheh! Over here—come pour us some wine!”
As if they had been waiting, a group of already thoroughly drunk, rough-voiced men called her from the side.
“What a strange fellow.”
The courtesan muttered and disappeared.
I had lifted my mask just enough to free my mouth so I could eat.
Yet the bowl of noodles in front of me was still more than half full.
“If you’re not going to eat this, mind if I take it?”
A hairy hand suddenly reached over from the side and carried off the untouched plate of meat in front of me.
I didn’t move a muscle.
My chopsticks had been still for a long time.
…I didn’t missee it.
My eyes were fixed on one corner of the banquet grounds.
Colorful cloths surrounding the open space fluttered against the blue sky and the trees.
At first the decorative hangings had hidden them from view.
In one corner of the banquet grounds a group of people stood huddled and awkward.
They were the complete opposite—black and white—of the Shaanxi martial artists in splendid, clean clothes who sat drinking and enjoying song and dance.
Worn, tattered clothing.
Gaunt ribs visible through the fabric.
Copper-dark skin burned black by the sun.
Why on earth are they here…?
They were the same people I had seen so often on the outskirts when I first entered Shaanxi Province.
Ordinary commoners who had been squeezed dry of tenant rents by Unwol Jiju.