Wanderers' Loyalty
Wanderers had their own code of loyalty. From then on, they pooled their recollections of the culprit's appearance. Cheon Yuhak produced paper and charcoal, sketching away while the group refined the details according to their accounts.
"Oh? You were an artist? To prepare something like this… The young lady must have been more sincere than we thought."
At that, the wanderers' eyes grew noticeably warmer. After all, who in this world would look after wanderers? As freelance swordsmen who were treated as cheap, disposable blades and quietly scorned as bandits when they had no work, they were sensitive to even the smallest kindness.
Even if she was a somewhat lacking disciple of the Sinnyeo Sect, Seomun Cheong was still a heroine of a prestigious orthodox sect. Instead of the simple solution of running straight to the Murim Alliance to report them, she was looking out for them, worried they might suffer losses. Of course they would be moved.
"Hmph. I'm always sincere."
Seomun Cheong accepted the praise with natural grace. Cheon Yuhak's eyebrows twitched as he drew the disfigured face, but this was hardly the time to call her a wench. Since each person's testimony differed slightly, the reliability of a portrait based on witness accounts was no higher than those black-market sketches. But unlike the black-market portraits, which had been drawn half-heartedly after people received a few coins for information that wasn't their business, these freelance swordsmen were genuinely invested. After discarding a whole stack of paper, they finally produced a single portrait everyone could agree on.
"Hmm. Just an ordinary upturned nose…"
The only distinctive feature on an otherwise ordinary face was that upturned nose. Moreover, the swordsmen who hadn't recognized the man even when seeing him in person certainly wouldn't recognize him from a drawing, and Seomun Cheong naturally lacked the discernment to say, "This looks like so-and-so."
"Anyway, that guy will definitely show up in front of you again."
"Why is that?"
"Uh… Because criminals always return to the scene of the crime?"
"As expected!"
"The young lady's brilliant deduction shines once more!"
Exclamations of admiration erupted from all around. The well-buttered swordsmen had completely fallen for her. Now they were ready to clap and agree no matter what nonsense Seomun Cheong spouted. Then again, wanderers were fundamentally a tribe starved for affection.
"That aside, you've already had your weakness seized. The Sleeping Dragon Pill is an expensive item, so this wasn't done just to extort money. They're probably blackmailing you into doing something dishonorable."
The martial artists' expressions darkened. Hearing it put that way, they realized how reckless it had been to swallow a suspicious drug just because someone called themselves the Divine Thief. Still, even if the genre shifted back to a wanderer regression story, the decisions of freelance martial artists wouldn't be much different. Their desperation to participate in the Hidden Dragon Tournament made them easy prey for others' schemes.
"It would be nice if we could catch him, but it could be dangerous, so don't do anything reckless. Here, take one each. This is tracking incense. You all know what tracking incense is, right?"
Seomun Cheong distributed the medicine bottles Cheon Yuhak had provided, one per person.
"If you meet him again, secretly douse him with it. No need to spray it on his face—just a little on his pants or something."
That was the conclusion they reached. If he made contact again, they would mark him with the tracking incense. Even if one person failed, with multiple attempts, someone would succeed. Then they would swarm him and capture him. After that, through smooth cooperation, they would uncover his purpose and any unknown backers while taking appropriate measures to prevent secrets from leaking.
It was a simple plan that looked somewhat sloppy and lacked detailed specifics. But for Seomun Cheong, this was an exceptionally brilliant idea, so everyone standing up to show their respect wouldn't have been excessive.
"Um… There's something I'd like to say."
Chair King—no, Chair Wanderer Wang Nopil—spoke up hesitantly.
"If we suddenly drop like flies, won't he get suspicious and become wary? We've finally reached the top sixteen. If we don't take the drug, he'll definitely think something's wrong. That's what I thought, not that we absolutely have to take it…"
Seomun Cheong's menacing aura made the latter half of his words trail off pathetically.
"What, you want to eat the Sleeping Dragon Pill? What? What does that mean? Does it mean you want to get beaten?"
One more pill and he'd hit a hundred points. He'd go from a foolish, pitiful victim to just a foolish, pitiful victim.
"Then… what if we get some other Sleeping Dragon Pill and take that instead…"
"If that's the case, don't ask me for permission—just decide for yourselves. But if you go around Kaifeng looking for Sleeping Dragon Pills, won't everyone notice? It's better if the guy who drugged you gets suspicious. He'll come back asking why you didn't take it, won't he?"
Seomun Cheong let out a deep sigh as she answered.
——
In truth, there was only one person worth showing the hastily made portrait to.
"Jegal Ihyeon, do you happen to recognize this person?"
"Hmm. Is this some kind of test? Hmm."
After staring at the portrait for a long while, Jegal Ihyeon suddenly snapped his fan shut.
"Oh, you recognize him?"
"I don't. Portraits aren't very reliable to begin with. Still, this drawing style doesn't look like a proper portrait. I can tell the artist's brushwork is extraordinary, at least."
Jegal Ihyeon was still just one of the young elites. If it were a name or epithet, he could rattle off information, but identifying someone from a drawing was beyond him.
"By the way, why are you snapping your fan?"
"Elder Sister, can't I snap a fan if I want to?"
Jegal Ihyeon answered with a bright smile. Seomun Cheong tilted her head. What was that about? It wasn't enough to warrant launching a nuke, so he truly lived up to being the most promising muscle-bound genius of the Jegal Clan, renowned for their deep scheming.
Finding the person who had drugged them wasn't particularly urgent for Seomun Cheong, nor was it some blood-soaked revenge she had to accomplish at all costs. It was more along the lines of: a bad guy happened to appear in her line of sight, so she should find him and beat him to death. She also didn't want the tournament's reputation tarnished by its champion being involved in something unsavory.
So Seomun Cheong wasn't the type to crane her neck waiting for bad guys to appear. While preparing for the matches and hanging around with the Ban-Geom-Ssang-Do Association, she found herself enjoying the stimulation of blades tearing through her demonic robe and skin. Before she knew it, she was standing in the top sixteen of the tournament.
Her opponent in the top sixteen was a familiar face.
"……From Mount Hua…… Changbin……"
Come to think of it, Changbin was the one who had never shown up even once after being invited to Mucheon Pavilion. She had thought they were fairly close—almost the only woman he could hold a proper conversation with—and yet, after not seeing each other for a while, things had gone back to square one. Seomun Cheong grinned and returned his greeting.
"By the way, Changbin. Why haven't you paid your respects to the elder even once? I distinctly told you to."
The laughter in her voice made Changbin's expression relax considerably.
"Th-that is… It's a bit embarrassing. Going to a residence where a woman stays, ahem, there might be unfavorable rumors or something…"
Changbin rambled out excuses. In summary: "It's difficult."
"Ah. Sorry. I didn't think that through."
She hadn't considered how completely spineless Changbin became when it involved women. If she had raided the Mount Hua guest house and dragged him out, he probably would have followed obediently, but inviting him over wouldn't make the shy Changbin come visit.
"Come on, let's go."
"I'll go."
Changbin charged in with an ambiguous tone that was neither formal nor casual.
Mount Hua used the character for "flower" (華). In Seomun Cheong's hometown, it was often used to mean "to shine," but in ancient times, the characters for flower (花) and flower (華) were homonyms and synonyms. The meaning of "to shine" in ancient Central Plains also referred not to emitting light, but to being dazzlingly beautiful.
However, the Mount Hua that Seomun Cheong saw was a crudely jutting rocky mountain—the most treacherous rocky mountain in the world, by all accounts. The fact that they called it Mount Hua because that rocky mountain looked like a flower told her that the ancestors of the Central Plains had eyesight on the level of blind men.
Therefore, the swords of Mount Hua resembled not those flowers, but the blade-like cliffs. Changbin's sword swayed gently, and along the path of the chilling white sword qi, flower petals seemed to explode and embroider the air. The sword qi that swam as if riding the wind was actually flower petals, but Mount Hua's true intent lay not there, but in its fierce sword momentum.
The sword that had been curving gently suddenly plummeted like lightning. The brilliant sword qi fluttering like flower petals was merely a distraction. If one didn't focus on the sword itself, it was a terrifying technique that could sever one's head in an instant.
Clang! Seomun Cheong blocked the lightning with her steel sword. After pushing the sword away, Changbin's figure swayed and performed acrobatics. Mount Hua's martial arts seemed rather insidious, Seomun Cheong thought.
The relaxed, swaying footwork was the Mount Hua technique called Se-ryu-pyo, which she had already experienced during her match with Changbin. Changbin, who had been swaying like a willow branch, suddenly stomped down with heavy steps. It was Mount Hua's Seven Steps, the Chilseongbo.
Seomun Cheong took a step back and leaned her upper body away. The Plum Blossom Seven Severing Sword technique she had seen several times sliced through the air in front of her shoulder. However, the flower petals that had been following the trajectory now rushed toward her.
Mount Hua's martial arts made no distinction between illusion and transformation. The dazzling plum blossom petal sword qi that captivated the eye was an illusion meant to steal one's attention, but they were also sharp blades of sword qi in their own right.
Seomun Cheong's iron sword finally drew a large semicircle and blazed like a sunset sun. The fragile flower petals melted away against the setting sun and vanished. Then Changbin's sword changed once more. The precisely moving sword tip drew the elegant lines of a plum blossom tree branch extending outward. The sword qi left in space was characteristic of the Mount Hua Sect. This time, the plum blossoms blooming on the branch stretched their arms toward Seomun Cheong.
But… she could see the openings. The more she watched Mount Hua's swordsmanship, the more clearly she could see it, all because of that old man's traces—the traces of Mucheon Daeje that had existed alone amidst the falling sword qi that had filled the world.
One principle runs through all things. An ordinary Three Talents Sword thrust split through the plum blossom branch like bamboo. Changbin was startled and leaped back to create distance.
"How?"
There was a way to omit the honorifics entirely between formal and informal speech. When Changbin asked, Seomun Cheong answered without hiding her laughter.
"Skill issue? Come on, you need to try harder."
"Then, here I go."
Changbin's expression was bright as he charged again. No matter what anyone said, in the end, he was a martial artist who found joy in pouring out everything he had. It seemed as though flowers bloomed, fluttered, and fell across the arena once more, only to rise again and scatter in an untimely spring breeze blowing in late May. Finally, Changbin came to a stop and respectfully cupped his fists.
"Phew. I lost."
Having displayed all seven of the Plum Blossom Seven Severing Sword and all fourteen of the Fourteen Swords, Changbin wore a refreshed expression.
"The winner, Seomun Cheong, disciple of the Sinnyeo Sect!"
This time, quite a bit of cheering erupted. It was understandable—the match had been a dazzling display of brilliant techniques. Since Changbin had known Seomun Cheong's skill from the start and hadn't bothered to hide his own abilities, Seomun Cheong had also manifested her sword qi in response. For ordinary people, a formalized sword qi duel between Peak-level masters that they could watch with complete peace of mind was something they could only see at times like this. Moreover, Mount Hua's martial arts were inherently flashy.
Plum Blossom Sword Maiden! Plum Blossom Sword Maiden! Plum Blossom Sword Maiden!
The cheers were cheers, but the content was somewhat… Even if the words were the same as before, the emotion contained within was closer to affection. Of course, Seomun Cheong, who hadn't cared much before, didn't care afterward either.
After leaping down to the passageway beneath the stage, Changbin approached her hesitantly.
"Um. Lady Seomun? Doesn't it bother you? There's no need to hide your beauty like that…"
"It's not really about hiding it. Now that it's come to this, saying 'I was actually an incredible beauty' would be a bit embarrassing, wouldn't it?"
"That is true. Yeah."
"No, seriously. If you're going to be comfortable, be comfortable. If not, don't. Why do you keep being so ambiguous?"
"But you're also completely an elder in terms of seniority, so using casual speech feels wrong, and if I say it's not easy… it's difficult, I suppose…"
That was the delicate heart of Changbin, who found it hard to drop formalities entirely but also didn't want to use honorifics.