Chapter 26
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: Kunlun Sect Closure
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"Why wouldn't it be so? Our Great Cloud Bright Religion and your Kunlun Sect stood shoulder to shoulder during the war against the Tartars over a hundred years ago, and the alliance we forged back then still stands firm."
"Urgh... I acknowledge it. Our sect has indeed broken the alliance we made with your religion. I won't make any excuses."
"Good. Your stance is clear, so no lengthy words are needed."
"Speak what you have to say, Leader U."
"Hand over the life of the Six Gate Immortal to me. Paying for breaking your promise with his life won't be excessive. After all, wasn't he the one who broke the alliance?"
"And what else?"
"Will you reaffirm that alliance from back then, or consider it broken for good?"
"Time flows on, and the currents of the world change. Can a promise from one era last forever?"
"That's true enough. In that case, I have my own condition."
"Speak it."
"Seal your sect for ten years."
"And if we refuse?"
"Heh heh heh... Then things won't end here. Even that child named Seo Jong who left earlier won't survive. Is that truly what you desire?"
"Are you saying you intend to wipe our Kunlun Sect from the face of the earth?"
"It's not what I want, but don't you leave me no choice? We can't leave a dagger at our throats."
Unjang Zhenren could not answer easily.
The Kunlun Sect had existed in the martial world for four hundred years since its founding. It had stood alone and proud through those long ages, but now a crisis of total annihilation loomed right before them.
Unjang Zhenren silently lifted his teacup to his lips.
U Gyeongcheon likewise began gulping down his tea.
"It will be difficult to give you an answer right now. As you know, our Kunlun is a collective of various branch halls, and we cannot ignore the intentions of the elders who oversee them or the seniors behind them."
Unexpectedly, U Gyeongcheon nodded readily.
"Of course. If you gave an answer on the spot, it wouldn't be a proper one. So, how long do I need to wait?"
"About ten days should suffice."
"Very well. In ten days, send someone outside the sect gate to relay your response."
"It seems your religion's people will be waiting there."
U Gyeongcheon set down his teacup and nodded.
His expression had already turned fierce.
"You have no idea how much this old man has agonized to hold back my subordinates. If not for the old friendship I share with the Six Gate Immortal, not a single soul would remain in Kunlun by now."
Unjang Zhenren nodded gravely.
He knew better than anyone in the martial world just how formidable the experts of the Great Cloud Bright Religion truly were.
If these masters, who had hidden themselves from the world for decades, suddenly emerged to demand repayment for old blood debts, the outcome was clear.
"I thank you for your consideration, Leader."
Unjang Zhenren rose and offered a formal salute.
It was no empty courtesy.
U Gyeongcheon gazed at Unjang Zhenren for a time before rising and heading out of the guest hall.
"Now I take my leave. I asked three things and heard one: you've been granted ten days..."
Unjang Zhenren followed behind U Gyeongcheon.
"But as for my master's whereabouts, even we do not know..."
"Heh heh... That's not for you to worry about. That friend will find his way here on his own. Just tell him his old friend U Gyeongcheon is waiting when he arrives."
"Understood. Then I shall see you off no further."
U Gyeongcheon turned and halted.
"Should any of you... think of leaving, don't. The world beyond this sect gate is nothing but hell for you now."
Indeed. For Kunlun, whichever path they chose, passage in or out of the sect gate was now over. For at least ten years.
The two emerged into the courtyard before the guest hall.
There, six elderly Daoists stood like stone statues.
A resounding voice echoed out.
"Sect Leader, will you let this insolent wretch leave just like that?"
Unjang Zhenren's expression hardened.
They were elders who had retired long ago.
They were of the martial uncle generation to Unjang Zhenren himself, so even as sect leader, he could not treat them lightly.
"Martial Uncles, why have you come down here?"
Unjang Zhenren clasped his hands and bowed deeply in respect, but the elderly Daoists ignored him.
"We passed by the Supreme Clarity Hall on our way."
One of the elderly Daoists spat out the words like they were bitter.
That single phrase held all their meaning.
With the Kunlun sacred grounds trampled by a single man, having witnessed it themselves, having overheard the entire conversation between U Gyeongcheon and Unjang Zhenren from outside—they could not endure it silently.
"You are one of the Six Immortals. It's been a long time."
U Gyeongcheon, having slowly scanned the six men, addressed one of them.
"Indeed, long time no see, Leader U."
Among these disciples of the Kunlun Sword Immortal—who had once shaken the martial world with that very title—only this one, the Six Immortals Zhenren, had shared a bond with U Gyeongcheon in the past.
"Do you all share the same intent?"
At U Gyeongcheon's question, the six elderly Daoists simultaneously drew the longswords they held from their sheaths.
They then unhesitatingly cast the empty scabbards to the ground.
"We may not have been born in Kunlun, but it was Kunlun that forged our bones, grew our flesh, and filled our blood. At a time like this, what does a mere life matter?"
The Six Immortals Zhenren's response was resolute.
At that moment, Unjang Zhenren stepped forward before them.
"Please, Martial Uncles, stay your hands. As sect leader, I command you. Withdraw and return to the Supreme Clarity Hall. For today's ill fortune, this unworthy junior nephew will seek punishment on his own."
"Tch. Sect Leader, stand down."
Among the six of the elder generation, the one with the highest seniority, the Sixth Victory Zhenren, stepped forward.
"Calamity has reached our Kunlun, and I shall bear it. As the sect leader of this generation. I beg you to heed my will."
"We know your intent, Sect Leader. But we old folks are bodies destined to die someday. We've resolved that today is that day."
"Unjang, we are all Daoists of Kunlun. We can die like this, but we cannot suffer such humiliation. If we let this man go free, how could we ever show our faces in the martial world?"
When the Sixth Victory Zhenren spoke, followed by the hitherto silent Sixth Serenity Zhenren stepping forward, Unjang Zhenren quietly retreated.
The Sixth Serenity Zhenren had always shown him particular favor since his youth, when he had first entered Kunlun.
Even though he usually addressed him with formal respect as sect leader, now he had reverted to his old tone.
At that moment, five figures flashed from the direction of the sect gate below the Jade Flower Hall—the guest hall—and landed in the courtyard.
"Long live, long live, long long live! We pay our respects to the Leader."
Clad in cloaks of varying colors that fluttered as they prostrated themselves before U Gyeongcheon, they were aged generals who exuded an even more ferocious air.
"I told you not to come up and to wait..."
"We have disobeyed the Leader's command and committed grave sin. We shall gladly accept punishment later."
The expression of the Six Immortals Zhenren hardened as he gazed at the five men bowing their heads before U Gyeongcheon.
They were five of the previous generation's supreme experts from the Great Cloud Bright Religion, the Five Great Divine Generals renowned throughout the martial world.
Unlike typical martial artists, their attire was military armor.
All wore gleaming steel breastplates and shoulder guards, with chainmail draped below the waist, rounded-brim helmets on their heads, and various weapons at their sides.
The one in a red cloak over his armor, wielding a Heaven Piercer halberd: the Vermilion Bird Divine General, No Jak.
The one in a blue cloak with twin swords at his waist: the Azure Dragon Divine General, Wi Jonggi.
The one in a black cloak with a massive iron mace of dark steel slung over his shoulder: the Black Tortoise Divine General, Mak Chogo.
The one in a white cloak with two tiger claws strapped to his hands: the White Tiger Divine General, Sa Cheondung.
Finally, the one in a yellow cloak holding a long spear: the Central Divine General, I Guseon.
They were the military commanders who effectively oversaw the martial forces of the Great Cloud Bright Religion, a religious organization.
"Truly troublesome, inside and out."
U Gyeongcheon muttered to himself, his face twisted in displeasure.
The Central Divine General, I Guseon, stepped forward before U Gyeongcheon.
"This subordinate takes full responsibility for defying the Leader's command. I could not stand by and watch these insolent fools show further disrespect to you..."
"Enough. We're leaving."
U Gyeongcheon spat irritably and turned toward the sect gate.
But as he turned, with his right hand—not grasping the staff—formed into a blade shape, he swept it horizontally.
A light breeze brushed past.
And then the six Daoists of the elder generation began to slowly collapse.
Their bodies had been cleanly bisected.
The eyes in the heads that fell to the ground held a dazed look, as if they hadn't even realized what had befallen them.
Only then did fresh blood begin gushing from the twelve body parts that had fallen to the earth, severed as neatly as paper cut by a sharp blade.
Kunlun's people, led by Unjang Zhenren, could only stare in stunned silence, unable to comprehend the sudden turn of events.
"In ten days. I'll be waiting."
Leaving those words, U Gyeongcheon began walking toward the sect gate, dragging his wooden staff.
Belatedly, the five generals followed respectfully behind him.
A spring breeze blew lightly once more.
Instead of floral fragrance, a thick scent of blood enveloped the area.
Only then did Unjang Zhenren collapse to his knees with a thud and begin to wail.
The other Kunlun elders flung themselves to the ground beside him and burst into sobs.
A bloody storm had descended upon Kunlun, and now that wind was heading toward the Central Plains.
* * *
Spring light bathed every street of the thousand-year ancient capital, Xi'an.
The Shenzhou Merchant House was located on one of Xi'an's most famous main avenues, lined with lush, fully leafed willow trees swaying in verdant splendor.
Xi'an lay at the heart of the endless east-west trade routes stretching into the distance, and the Shenzhou Merchant House was the preeminent firm representing that city.
In particular, as the gateway where silks produced across the Central Plains gathered before departing westward, the Shenzhou Merchant House's primary trade goods were silks.
Within the walls of the Shenzhou Merchant House.
In the guest hall reserved for esteemed visitors among its dozens of buildings, a garden featured a small hill and pond, complete with an elegant pavilion where two men sat facing each other.
"Are you feeling more clear-headed now?"
"Yes."
Seonwoyong was examining the complexion of the boy seated across from him.
Han Sojung had been brought here in a coma for over ten days by carriage, regaining consciousness in the Shenzhou Merchant House's stables only one hour prior.
"Drink plenty of tea. It'll help."
Han Sojung silently emptied the teacup on the low table, then stared fixedly at Seonwoyong's face.
He appeared to be in his late teens, with flawless, pure white skin and features that could rival any great beauty.
"You truly have no fear. To whisk a grave criminal right out from under the Eastern Depot's nose..."
Seonwoyong merely smiled.
Suddenly, Han Sojung stood, clasped his hands, prostrated himself, and bowed deeply.
"I thank you for saving my life. This Han Sojung vows to repay you as an elder brother with the grace of nurturing enmity into loyalty."
"Elder brother? What..."
Seonwoyong muttered a word and simply watched the scene.
Han Sojung's appearance was, in truth, not particularly striking.
Though recent hardships had thinned his cheeks, his body still carried considerable bulk, and his frame was sturdy.
His eyes were small, his nose low-set; if anything, he had a bearish look.
Once Han Sojung had bowed and returned to his seat, silence fell once more.
A moment later, Seonwoyong, who had been idly gazing at the garden flowers, lifted the long object propped beside the low table and unwrapped its cloth covering.
It was a seven-stringed zither.
Han Sojung's eyes sparkled for an instant upon seeing it.