Any Favor at All
Whatever favor you might ask.
Elder Hyeon Un had been enjoying a nearby festival with Shin Mok when word arrived from the Martial Alliance, and it nearly knocked him off his feet.
Sikmugaek, a First-Class Public Enemy of the Martial World, was heading straight for Seongun Inn. He worried for Baek Sang and Baek Seol, his young disciples. He worried for Jin Seongun and Cook Seo.
Hyeon Un flung his wine bottle aside and ran like a madman. Along the way he crossed paths with the Grand Elder of the Tang Clan, the Patriarch of the Seomun Clan, the Lord of Seok Manor, and the White Sword Hall Master of the Martial Alliance.
Every one of them shared the same destination and the same desperate resolve. They sprinted as though their lives depended on it, all thinking the same thing — we must arrive in time, we must save them.
And so they reached Seongun Inn.
The inn, predictably, looked like a battlefield. The children were in a similar state. But the most astonishing discovery was that Sikmugaek was already dead.
Hyeon Un understood at once.
So Seongun was the one who killed Sikmugaek.
And yet the shock remained. Sikmugaek had been no easy opponent. He was nothing compared to Hyeon Un himself, of course, but even within the Wudang Sect, there were precious few masters who could have stood against him.
Hyeon Un's gaze settled on Jin Seongun. Setting aside his wish to take the boy as a disciple, this was the moment he truly ached to know — just how strong was he?
Just as Hyeon Un was thinking that,
Seok Wonsang, Lord of Seok Manor, burst out with a question. He was a man naturally given to loud voice and sweeping gestures, and the composed Hyeon Un had never much cared for it.
"So, so — was it you who saved the children?"
At Seok Wonsang's question, everyone turned to Jin Seongun with tense faces. Hyeon Un tensed up along with them. The caliber of those gathered here was nothing to sneeze at. If they saw through Jin Seongun's true worth...
H-him...!
Do Wonhyeok, the White Sword Hall Master, already had a gleam in his eye. Everyone knew the White Sword Hall, the elite vanguard of the Martial Alliance, was perpetually hungry for talent.
Glancing sideways, Hyeon Un saw that the Seomun Patriarch and the Tang Clan Elder wore much the same expression.
Seongun, no! Don't!
Hyeon Un shot the boy an intensely pointed look.
Jin Seongun did not answer right away, simply standing there in silence.
He had, in effect, saved them. But saying so with his own mouth felt strangely embarrassing. All the more so because Jin Seongun did not consider himself a man of the martial world.
"Yes. Jin Sohyeop here saved us. And before he arrived, it was Cook Seo who protected us."
The one who answered was Baek Sang.
Hyeon Un felt a profound sense of betrayal. He had explicitly told the boy to keep quiet about Jin Seongun's martial prowess!
Baek Sang stole a sideways glance away from Hyeon Un's stare. Of course he remembered the elder's instructions. But staying silent felt shameful.
If these are the people gathered here, they will surely reward Jin Sohyeop fittingly.
He judged it unfair to let another go properly compensated merely for the Wudang Sect's benefit.
At Baek Sang's answer, every eye in the room lit up. The people assembled here were seasoned warriors who had seen it all. Piecing together the battle scars left in the inn and Baek Sang's words, each of them quietly reconstructed the scene in their mind.
After a moment spent picturing it, Dang Taesan, the Grand Elder of the Sichuan Tang Clan, spoke in a low voice.
"Impressive."
Heads nodded all around at his words.
Everyone looked as if they had a mountain of questions. Yet no one opened their mouth.
Dang Taesan noticed that the eyes of the White Sword Hall Master, the Seomun Patriarch, and the Lord of Seok Manor mirrored his own.
The others realized it too — that if anyone here made Jin Seongun a proposal, the rest would hardly sit idle.
Old ginger is the hottest of all. Everyone understood that now was not the moment.
In the sudden silence that fell,
Dang Taesan strode toward Jin Seongun, step by heavy step. The man's frame was as massive as any Tang Clan warrior's, and his approach was like watching a great wall move.
Before long, Dang Taesan drew something from his breast and held it out to Jin Seongun. It was a jade token engraved with the Tang Clan's crest.
"Once. The Tang Clan will grant any favor you might ask. Without fail."
Everyone's faces filled with astonishment.
There could be no clearer compensation than those words.
What kind of place was the Sichuan Tang Clan? In its day, its members had been called half demons — men of vicious temperament,
all the more fearsome for the poisons and hidden weapons that backed that temperament up.
The Sichuan Tang Clan never forgets a debt of gratitude, nor a grudge. And the clan owed an immense debt of gratitude to Jin Seongun, who had saved Dang Soyeon, their future matriarch.
"Any favor at all."
Dang Taesan repeated it for emphasis.
Everyone knew he meant every word. The Tang Clan had both the will and the power to make it good.
Jin Seongun was on the verge of saying, 'Then could you fix my chairs and tables?' — but Dang Taesan's expression was so gravely earnest that he held his tongue.
When the other party's resolve runs that deep, a trifling request becomes an insult.
The Lord of Seok Manor, who had been watching, spoke up.
"Honestly, I'm stunned. How does a young warrior like you come to possess such martial skill...?"
Seok Wonsang let his words trail off for a moment,
then glanced sidelong at Hyeon Un and continued.
"But with Elder White Cloud Sword vouching for you, I suppose it hardly matters."
Everyone present remembered it all too clearly.
The moment the Wudang elder, the White Cloud Sword, had arrived at Seongun Inn, the words he had cried out were not 'Baek Sang! Baek Seol!' — they were 'Seongun!'
There was much they wondered about Jin Seongun's identity, but they agreed that if the Wudang Sect's elder vouched for the man, there was no need for suspicion.
Such was the weight that the Wudang Sect — and Hyeon Un — carried in today's martial world.
"Thank you. Truly, thank you. Is there anything you desire? No — with so many elders gathered here... I'll send someone to you in the near future."
So spoke Seok Wonsang, and the Seomun Patriarch expressed his gratitude to Jin Seongun in much the same vein.
Do Wonhyeok, the White Sword Hall Master, who had stayed quiet throughout, suddenly asked his subordinate beside him,
"We have openings in the White Sword Hall, don't we?"
"Yes, sir. We still need to recruit two more."
"I see."
It was, on its face, nothing more than shop talk.
But raising that subject here, in this situation, made the intent unmistakable.
Hyeon Un's eyes blazed as he fixed them on the White Sword Hall Master.
— Listen here. Seongun belongs with the Wudang Sect.
Hyeon Un said it with a look of naked possessiveness. The White Sword Hall Master did not look away from the elder's glowering gaze but met it head-on.
Had it been any other occasion, he would have bowed his head — but as a hall master of the Martial Alliance, with talent standing right before him, he could not easily yield.
— That is for the man himself to decide, surely.
Just as the staring contest between the two grew ferociously heated,
the largest man in the room spoke, his voice heavy and stern as a boulder.
"You. What did you do?"
Every head turned toward him.
It was Seomun Jeok, Patriarch of the Seomun Clan. He was glaring at his own son, Seomun Ak, as though he meant to kill him.
The inn was shattered from end to end, and the junior disciples were covered in blood and wounds. Yet one person — his own son, Seomun Ak — was perfectly unharmed.
That fact meant one of two things.
Either Seomun Ak was strong enough to overwhelm Sikmugaek, or he had been so terrified that he shoved his friends into the fight and hung back himself.
Seomun Jeok knew, and so did everyone present. It was, of course, the latter.
"I asked you what you did."
Seomun Jeok asked again.
Even so, Seomun Ak hung his head and could not manage a single word.
"Worthless wretch."
The ugly curse spilled out of Seomun Jeok. Ordinarily he would have tempered his tongue in front of a far senior figure like Hyeon Un, but his fury was far too great to contain.
His eyes burned like live flames. If a man could be killed by a look alone, Seomun Ak would have died two or three times over.
"How did it feel, hiding behind your friends to save your own skin? Couldn't contain your joy at being the one who lived, could you? Every time a fight breaks out from now on, you'll hide and run. And what will you do, one day, when you face a demon alone? Will you fall to your knees and beg for your life? Or will you throw the Seomun Clan's name around and try to frighten him? And when neither of those works? Will you lie on the ground and wail like a sniveling child?"
The more vicious Seomun Jeok's denunciation grew, the redder Seomun Ak's face burned.
Everyone else could hardly barge into another family's business, so they contented themselves with pointed coughs.
Seomun Ak had not a word to say for himself — not with ten mouths, nor with a hundred. Everything his father said was true.
Seomun Jeok strode toward his son in long, heavy steps. Seomun Ak flinched hard, and Hyeon Un spoke up in haste.
"N-now, hold on. Patriarch Seomun—"
Seomun Jeok's aura seemed fully capable of striking his son down on the spot, and Hyeon Un could not simply stand by.
At that, Seomun Jeok turned to him and said,
"It's all right, Elder."
What, exactly, is all right?
Hyeon Un could only cough awkwardly. Well — surely even the hot-blooded Seomun Patriarch wouldn't actually beat his son to death here.
Just as he was thinking that,
WHAM—!
The blow from Seomun Jeok's fist sent Seomun Ak flying. Clutching his struck belly with both arms, he crashed face-down onto the floor. The punch had landed with such force that dark blood drooled from his mouth.
"Have you lost your mind!"
Hyeon Un cried out in shock. Dang Taesan and Seok Wonsang likewise made their displeasure plain.
But Seomun Jeok paid them no mind. To him, his son being a pathetic disgrace was a far graver problem than the discourtesy of offending his seniors.
"Pathetic fool. You haven't even earned the right to bear the Seomun name. There is no need for you to come home. No — if you do come home, then that will be..."
Seomun Jeok swallowed the rest. He was holding back a great deal even now, with the seniors present.
Then he turned to the assembled company.
"I apologize for the ugly display, elders."
Bowing in a formal fist salute, Seomun Jeok promptly took his leave. If he stayed any longer, he feared he might beat his son to death in front of all the righteous warriors present.
The atmosphere turned sour and uneasy.
Everyone cast sidelong glances at Seomun Ak.
Seomun Ak's heart ached far worse than his body did. Being humiliated like this in front of Dang Soyeon, in front of everyone, was mortifying — and so was the fact that he had failed to step forward when it mattered most.
Father is right.
Seomun Ak thought of himself as trash.
Had he heard of another righteous junior disciple behaving as he had, he would have said without a moment's hesitation, 'What a pathetic piece of garbage.'
The gathering was beginning to wind down.
Having exchanged their farewells, the visitors were fixing Jin Seongun's face in their memories one last time.
That was when it happened.
"Wait a moment!"
Baek Seol suddenly raised her hand. For a girl who hated drawing attention to herself in a crowd, it took considerable courage.
"What is it, Seol-ah?"
At Hyeon Un's question, Baek Seol pointed at Seo Yugyeom and spoke.
"Jin Sohyeop saved us, but before that, it was Cook Seo who risked his life to protect us. If he hadn't been there, we would already be dead."
At that, every eye converged on Seo Yugyeom.
Assassins are creatures who hide in the shadows and shun the gaze of others. For a man like Seo Yugyeom, the sudden weight of so many stares was more than a little uncomfortable.
"Ahem, that's enough. I was only protecting the inn, that's all."
"No, but you could have escaped alone if you'd wanted to. With your skills."
Everyone nodded along.
Eclipsed by Jin Seongun as he was, Seo Yugyeom's own presence was undeniably extraordinary.
"What is your name?"
Dang Taesan asked. He showed Seo Yugyeom a more overt interest than anyone else present. The reason was simple — the blade Seo Yugyeom carried was a short saber.
The Tang Clan excelled in poisons and hidden weapons, and Dang Taesan above all had deep expertise in thrown weaponry. He himself was a masterful hand with daggers and short blades.
"Seo Yugyeom."
"Where on earth have such men been hiding all this time?"
Dang Taesan laughed heartily as he looked back and forth between Jin Seongun and Seo Yugyeom. Then he added,
"You as well — come visit the Tang Clan sometime. I'll give you a gift worth your while."
Seo Yugyeom returned the courtesy with a formal salute.
At the sight of it, Hyeon Un nearly leapt out of his skin.
"Y-you! You were rude to me!"
The looks everyone gave Seo Yugyeom changed at once. They were all righteous warriors, and they held courtesy and decorum in the highest regard.
Seo Yugyeom clicked his tongue and answered.
"Well, that's because the moment this old man arrived, he picked a fight with us for no reason, started leaking his qi all over the place, and then even picked a fight with Jin Seongun here the very next day. That's why."
At Seo Yugyeom's words, everyone turned to look at Hyeon Un this time. None of them dared say it aloud, but their eyes all spoke the same message.
'At your age... you fought with a waiter this young?'
Flustered, Hyeon Un could only cough awkwardly.