The Missing Clue
"Wasn’t the Mount Hua Sect the place that provided the first lead on Sword Wolf?"
At last, a faint clue had surfaced about Geom Mujin’s past, which had until now remained frustratingly obscure.
And the revelation was downright shocking.
Yugeom’s bombshell sent the room straight into the five stages of processing a human could go through when confronted with something outrageous.
"What the hell...!"
"There’s no way Mount Hua Sect would do that!"
The first stage was denial.
"If that’s true, we can’t just sit on our hands!"
"Exactly! They kept something this important hidden? They should be punished!"
Then came stage two: anger.
"But maybe they had some reason for it?"
Just as they were about to move on to compromise after venting their rage—
"Are you people seriously kidding me right now?"
Ogeom cut in, sounding utterly baffled.
"Why are you even trying to understand those flower boys’ circumstances? What’s next, a pity party? Then depression? Then acceptance? Come on."
"Ahem."
"...When did we ever say that?"
His snide remark cut short the five stages of shock before they could run their course.
Of course, this was Mount Hua Sect—a prestigious orthodox sect standing shoulder to shoulder with Wudang. That was why they got away with this sort of nonsense.
If it had been some nobody sect, the whole room would’ve risen up and lynched them on the spot.
"More importantly, Yugeom. Are you absolutely sure about what you just said?"
Ogeom stared toward Yugeom’s private chamber in a grave tone.
Both chambers were separated by translucent curtains, but neither side let something that flimsy get in the way of their vision.
"I can’t go into details, but the information came from someone reliable, so yes, I’m sure."
Yugeom answered calmly.
"Leader! If Yugeom’s words are true, shouldn’t we pressure Mount Hua Sect?"
One of the members spoke up, his voice heated.
In the Central Plains, around sixty percent of martial artists were swordsmen.
The remaining twenty percent were saber users, and another ten percent were made up of the miscellaneous lot—spears, bare hands, staff techniques, and the like.
Because swordsmen held such a ridiculous majority, most of the greatest warriors in the world had come from among them.
Wudang’s founder Zhang Sanfeng, Mount Hua’s Crane Elder, the Invincible Swordsman Dugu Qiubai, and so on.
All the supreme masters who left their names in the long history of the martial world had used swords, so swordsmen were absurdly proud of themselves.
You could question why they were puffing themselves up over other people’s accomplishments, but it was basically the same as the patriotism obsession that would become popular in some far-off future.
When a great person came from your own group, you started fooling yourself into thinking you must be great too.
Anyway, when a black-haired barbarian had risen to become the world’s greatest swordsman right under the noses of all those sword-crazy maniacs—
-A barbarian... at the summit!? (X number of martial artists who were swordsmen)
It was enough to make blood run cold even in their sleep.
This meeting was full of people who had gone through exactly that.
Every last one of them had challenged Geom Mujin—or been challenged by him—only to get wrecked like dogs. Of course, that part wasn’t being announced aloud.
"He’s right! Mount Hua Sect must be held accountable."
"Either recruit Maehyang Sword Fairy into the Alliance or take something equivalent in compensation."
One by one, the members began to agree, and beneath their voices simmered a clear edge of anger.
Someone was struggling to set the martial world right, and those people, after committing such a foundational sin, had the nerve to act all lofty and immortal-like?
"First, let’s use the Beggars’ Sect to spread the word little by little—"
"Enough."
At that moment, the leader, who had been listening quietly, unleashed a roar of inner force.
Wooooong—
"....!"
"!?"
The members immediately shut their mouths as the qi rolled through the air.
-This meeting is not for discussing Maehyang Sword Fairy and Mount Hua Sect.
"The leader is right."
Julggeom, who had barely managed to overcome his stutter over Maehyang Sword Fairy, spoke up.
"And pressuring Mount Hua Sect would be amateurish."
"But if we use Yugeom’s information to pressure them, then there’s a chance—"
"Still impossible."
Julggeom rejected it at once.
"The present Mount Hua Sect is Maehyang Sword Fairy’s Mount Hua Sect."
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Mount Hua Sect revolved around her right now.
The sect leader?
The current sect leader of Mount Hua was already nearing retirement, and even if he weren’t, he’d still have nowhere near Maehyang Sword Fairy’s presence.
More importantly, the current sect leader and Maehyang Sword Fairy were master and disciple, yet also ancestor and descendant.
Given human genes—the way people become twice as soft toward their grandchildren as they age—the hierarchy between those two was as clear as fire and magma.
If you disliked Maehyang Sword Fairy, you disliked the sect leader too, and if you disliked him, you disliked Mount Hua Sect.
She was Mount Hua Sect.
She was already flexing absolute authority before the country of the red-nosed foreigners even got around to inventing it some two hundred years later.
"The best thing is to leave Maehyang Sword Fairy and Mount Hua Sect alone for now."
Even if Mount Hua was another matter, Maehyang Sword Fairy was already hostile toward Geom Mujin, and that was enough.
If they poked the wrong hornet’s nest, they might create an enemy where none had existed before.
-Julggeom is right.
"......"
"......"
When the leader also agreed with Julggeom, the room fell silent.
"...But what exactly do you mean by 'lead'? Don’t tell me Sword Wolf and Mount Hua Sect—"
-Enough. Back to the main point.
Still unable to suppress his curiosity, one member tried to ask carefully, only to be cut off immediately by the leader.
If they talked about that now, it would ruin future volume count—mmph!
"You said his location had been identified."
After a long detour, they finally returned to the main issue.
-More accurately, his next destination has been identified.
"Oh... as expected of the leader."
Migeom exclaimed with genuine admiration.
They had all been keeping their eyes and ears open in search of Geom Mujin’s whereabouts, but it had all been for nothing.
Not only his swordsmanship but his stealth must be top-tier too, because even the Beggars’ Sect hadn’t managed to track him down.
Which was suspiciously impressive, considering his fame.
"I’m not doubting the leader, but are you sure? The guy’s so elusive."
Sometimes when they went looking, they’d end up finding black-haired impostors pretending to be the Great Swordsman.
And those bastards got taught the ways of Confucius and Mencius—the sword and the fist.
-You can trust it. His next destination is practically being chosen by us.
"Huh? What does that mean...?"
-We’ll be setting out bait he absolutely can’t ignore.
And after that, the leader said no more about it.
-Then who will go there?
.....
.....
Silence spread once more through the room.
Just moments ago they’d all been tearing into Geom Mujin, but now, to no one’s surprise, not a single person volunteered.
The upper ranks might be vacant, and what remained were only the middle and lower ranks, but this silence was still excessive.
He had lost to Geom Mujin, then burned with shame and rebuilt his swordsmanship from the ground up.
He had worked harder than when he first entered the martial path.
But now that the chance had come, the words wouldn’t easily leave his lips.
-Nothing special, huh.
Geom Mujin’s face, the face that had broken the sword techniques he had spent a lifetime mastering, flashed through their minds.
Even after smashing everything they had built, there had been no joy in that bastard’s expression.
He had merely worn the face of someone disappointed by an opponent whose sword had been even more beneath expectations than expected.
For a swordsman, that disappointed look was more painful than having one’s guts torn out.
And many had fallen into inner demons, unable to endure that pain.
Clench—!
Even Ogeom, who had been running his mouth the entire meeting, clenched his fist in frustration.
-If no one will go, then I’ll hand the task over to one of the upper ranks who couldn’t attend this time.
"Wait."
At that, someone raised a hand.
"It looks like no one else has the idea, so I’ll go."
"...Sageom."
He had watched silently until now without saying a single word, and this was the first time he had spoken.
Even in the darkness, he seemed to shine with a quiet steadiness, and his eyes were clearly different from those of the other members.
-Understood. Then we’ll team you up with one of the other upper ranks—
"Leader. Leave this matter to me."
At his words, the desire for a one-on-one with Geom Mujin drew the leader’s attention straight onto him.
Rumble...
"......"
As killing intent concentrated to a single point, the air pressing on his shoulders became as heavy as a thousand pounds.
"...K-khh...! Take this somewhere else if you’re going to do that...! Damn!"
Unfortunately for him, Ogeom was using the private chamber right next to Sageom’s, and the aftershock made him groan aloud.
-...Are you confident, Sageom?
"Confident?"
Flash—!
From the sword lying beside him, a blade-light flared.
Rustle—
As the perforated curtain fell away in tatters, the inside of the chamber became visible.
"Is that enough to answer you?"
Clack—
Sageom rose from his seat and said,
He had just sliced through the leader’s pressure in a single strike.
-...Good.
The leader approved, impressed by how much stronger he had become since the last time he’d seen him.
-Then this matter will be entrusted to Sageom.
"Thank you."
Sageom folded his hands in salute.
-All for the sake of recovering the rightful sword.
""All for the sake of recovering the rightful sword.""
At the leader’s cue, the members chanted in unison.
They would destroy the corrupt barbarian’s sword and restore the rightful sword to the martial world.
That was the reason for their existence—the Myeol-ho Jeong-geom-hoe.
"...To recover it."
...For me, I only need to find the bastard’s location.
"So where exactly is the bastard going?"
When Sageom, having chanted along with the others, asked, the leader answered.
-That would be...
***
"What did you say?"
In front of Wuhan’s harbor,
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Geom Mujin asked with a look of utter disbelief.
"No, did this guy eat his ears or something? I already told you, our fleet doesn’t take passengers."
The shaggy, middle-aged man with a bristling beard picked at his nose as he answered.
Ting—!
He flicked his finger, and the booger arced gracefully through the air before dropping at his feet.
Patience.
Clack—
"Then are the people boarding behind you all reptilians or something?"
I pointed at the passengers climbing onto the ship.
If this asshole was going to lie, he could at least try to make an effort.
"Those people have the ship fully booked, so there ain’t any seats left."
"By my count, forty-three people have boarded so far. This is a large vessel that could easily carry at least eighty, though."
Even allowing for the crew, there was still room to spare.
"No, that’s—"
For a moment, the bearded man was left speechless.
The creepy bastard.
He’d actually been counting?
And the number even matched the passengers he himself knew about.
The lie had been exposed, but at times like this there was a solution known across the ages.
"So what!"
The bearded man slammed the table and barked,
It was the classic loud voice wins strategy.
"I was trying to solve this nicely because of the little girl next to you, you barbarian bastard—why are you making such a fuss?"
That part was actually true.
Despite looking like a bandit, he had a conscience the size of a flea’s balls and had tried to turn Geom Mujin away by being roundabout about it.
Drip, drip, drip—
Unlike the supposed kindness in his heart, his mouth lacked any such consideration, and thick globs of spit flew everywhere as he ranted.
"....."
Patience.
Clack—!
Master, should I get ready?
My right hand was already starting to rev up on its own.
"...If it’s money you’re worried about, don’t be. I’ve got money."
No, hold on a second.
"Really? Our Shinpung Fleet charges one million gold per person, so with the girl next to you that makes two million gold. Can you even afford that?"
"What did you say?"
In the blink of an eye, I had somehow become a father, but that wasn’t the main issue right now.
I looked at the price placard beside us.
"It says here the fee is two hundred thousand gold per person."
"Black hair gets a special surcharge."
"....."
"Oh, and does the parrot on your shoulder ride too? Then that’s another five hundred thousand gold as a pet fee."
He was gouging us at five times the listed price.
At this level of extortion, the kind even evil sects wouldn’t pull, the final trace of my patience was finally engraved into place.
"Oh? You little barbarian punk, why’re you staring at me like that?"
"I don’t know how to stare prettily, but I do know how to slice prettily."
Patience!
Clack—!!
At last, the third stack had been built.
"Kid. Close your eyes and cover your nose—"
"Heyyy!"
Just as Mujin Sword Style was about to unleash Star-Shaped Slicing, someone approached me.
"There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you."
"What?"
I think you’ve got the wrong person.