Chapter 66
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: At That Moment, the Adults
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The Great Hero Hall of Shaolin Temple, where the Murim Alliance conference was being held.
The atmosphere of the gathering, attended by the venerable elders from each sect, clan, and house of the Righteous Faction's Murim Alliance, was calm and weighty—unlike the previous meeting, where all decorum had been abandoned amid finger-pointing and heated shouting.
“According to the reports, traces of the Demonic Cult—which had shown no significant activity for over sixty years—have been discovered simultaneously in multiple locations….”
A murmur of groans rippled through the hall at the words from Abbot Gogyun, the current head of Shaolin and leader of the Righteous Faction's Murim Alliance.
Demonic Cult. Its precise name was the Sun-Moon Divine Cult.
An evil cult based in the Shin-gang Cheon-san Mountains, it was a militant group of the strong-prey-on-weak variety, deeply tinged with religious fervor in its worship of power, heaven, and the demonic.
The Demonic Cult formed one of the three major pillars of the martial world, alongside the Righteous and Unorthodox Factions. It was also the entity that had branded them with a history they could never ignore.
“Even if gu poison has appeared, we can't definitively conclude it's the Demonic Cult, can we?”
“Nonsense. It's been ages since it was known that only those who cultivate demonic arts can use that sorcery—why bring it up now?”
“And it's quite the coincidence that the victims all happened to possess fragments of the Demonic Cult's sacred relic.”
Zhuge Ilyeon, the Murim Alliance's strategist, flicked her fan lightly as she added her curt remark.
The head of the Tanmok Clan—who had lost his eldest grandson in this recent abduction incident—fixed her with a sharp question.
“After leaving us alone for fifty-six years, they strike now? Can't you come up with a more plausible reason, Strategist?”
The Great Murim Sun-Moon War, which had erupted over sixty years ago.
Everyone who had lived through that conflict, which had embroiled all three powers of the martial world in turmoil, was either dead or relegated to the back rooms as old fogeys, long retired from the front lines.
The Sun-Moon Divine Cult had risen with ambitions to devour the entire martial world, met by a united front of the Righteous and Unorthodox Factions. After four years of grueling, drawn-out warfare, the two sides had finally signed a truce.
The past in which the Righteous Faction, so disdainful of the Unorthodox, had joined hands with them out of desperation against the Demonic Cult's ferocious advance was the most shameful chapter in their history—one they desperately wished to erase.
During that war, this allied force had seized the Sun-Moon Divine Cult's sacred relic, the Heavenly Fire Mirror.
The relic had been shattered into fragments, now held by various Righteous and Unorthodox powers.
And the Righteous Faction forces within the Murim Alliance that had suffered in this Demonic Cult abduction incident coincidentally matched the exact locations storing those fragments.
Zhuge Ilyeon sneered, hiding her mouth behind her fan.
“Could it be that Clan Head Tanmok simply refuses to believe it's the Demonic Cult?”
“What did you just say?”
“Even if your eldest grandson returns alive, you'd have to take his life before he could play the cuckoo chick role—you know that full well. Isn't that why you're denying it so desperately out of fear?”
“Strategist!”
The cuckoo chick that pushes the nestlings out to their deaths.
One who has swallowed gu or been brainwashed by the Demonic Cult is no longer part of the original nest. It becomes a cuckoo chick, intent on killing those within.
During the war sixty years ago, an inexcusable number of sects and clans had been wiped out by this very method.
Zhuge Ilyeon saw this as the reason they had kidnapped the children without touching the relic itself.
By sending back cuckoo chicks, they could achieve both revenge and relic recovery in one stroke.
Pierced to the core, Clan Head Tanmok clamped his mouth shut in fury, only for a retort to emerge from elsewhere.
“Hold on—if this abduction incident and attempt targeted only places holding relic fragments, then Mount Hua doesn't fit the criteria, does it?”
Mount Hua possessed no fragment of the relic.
Meaning they had absolutely no reason to be targeted.
The fragments held meaning only for the Demonic Cult; to this side, they were mere spoils of war from fifty-six years ago. There was no need to hide them even if they had them.
Which implied either that the motive behind this abduction didn't align with their hypothesis, or...
“Is there a chance the disciple attacked at Mount Hua is connected to the Demonic Cult?”
At those words, Mount Hua's Sect Leader, Jinmun Jin-in, hardened his expression and cut in decisively.
“This is an internal Mount Hua matter. It seems unfit for outsiders to meddle with words.”
“With the Demonic Cult on the move, how can you claim it's solely Mount Hua's affair!”
“The child was raised in Mount Hua from a very young age—there's no need to worry about that.”
“Roots can't be deceived. What's your guarantee he's not a cuckoo chick?”
“You've got a point. The Demonic Cult wouldn't target Mount Hua of all places without reason.”
Jinmun slammed the table with a bang! in outrage at the momentum building to condemn Biyeon as definitively tied to the Demonic Cult.
“Silence! Mount Hua raised him for ten years—from the days he couldn't even speak as an infant! Must we at Mount Hua tolerate this baseless nonsense and prattle?”
From infancy for ten years.... Hyuk Wugang chuckled as he realized who this attacked disciple was.
“At the very least, he's no Demonic Cult cuckoo chick.”
Jinmun, who had received a report from Uihyeon about the conversation with Hyuk Wugang, made no move to stop him, merely crossing his arms with a displeased gaze as he observed.
“How can Fist King be so certain?”
“Because his roots are solid. I stake my name as the Yun-nam Fist King on it.”
No one could stubbornly cling to doubts right in front of such firm assurance.
Those who had raised their voices quieted and backed down, and as the commotion in the hall settled, Alliance Leader Gogyun spoke up.
“This poor monk, upon hearing this report, feels the Murim Alliance's future is like a candle in the wind.”
Even after the Great Murim Sun-Moon War ended and the Righteous Faction united under the Murim Alliance banner, twenty-four years ago, the attempt to relocate the alliance headquarters had nearly torn it apart.
Thus, the current Murim Alliance was little more than a loosely bound coalition under the hollow name of "alliance"—nothing more, nothing less.
If the Demonic Cult rose up in this state, the tragedy of sixty years ago would replay itself before their eyes.
“If we don't wish to repeat the tragedy of sixty years past, shouldn't we set aside these petty power struggles and unite?”
His meaning was clear.
Now was the perfect time to properly reform the Murim Alliance.
No one opposed. Gogyun slowly scanned the attendees, nodded, and opened his mouth again.
“Then, let us move to the main agenda. Placing the Murim Alliance headquarters in Eoyang was decided at the last conference. This time, we must decide on the locations for the major branch headquarters... .”
* * *
At the same time.
A man gripping his sword looked down at the blood-soaked figure sprawled on the ground.
He casually swept back his long hair, disheveled by the wind, and readjusted his grip on the sword.
It had been nearly ten years since the man had finally come face-to-face with the traitor. Had it not been for the reports, he might have gone a lifetime without seeing this face again.
Had cultivating demonic arts given him confidence? Or sheer audacity? Whatever the case, the man was not merciful enough to let unscathed the one who had orchestrated such deeds and dared show himself.
“Not even amusing.”
With a cold sneer, his sword plunged through one of the traitor’s legs.
“Your schemes are obvious. Did you think that alone would shake me?”
The sword withdrew, and as blood poured from the leg, a fierce kick struck the side of the desperately crawling man.
The man’s foot came down heavily on the chest of the flipped body.
A cough mingled with bloody froth burst from the pinned figure under the crushing pressure on his windpipe.
“Even if the abduction and brainwashing had succeeded, sending them to Mount Hua would have hurt more than targeting me. What a pointless endeavor.”
“Heh heh, you talk so heartlessly—yet how did you learn of it? Shaanxi and Zhejiang are hardly neighbors—”
Gurk! A feeble death rattle mixed with blood spilled out. The man gripped the sword hilt protruding from the traitor’s mouth and spoke calmly to the dying man.
“I have no desire to hear more from a traitor.”
The man’s eyes, gazing down at one who had once been like family, were cold and indifferent, as if regarding worthless trash.
‘To think he’d joined the Demonic Cult. I should have dealt with him sooner if I’d known.’
Confronting the consequences of his own misplaced mercy, the man clicked his tongue irritably and rubbed his furrowed brow.
“Tch, why did that damn old man bring back that useless thing back then, troubling even the later generations… .”
Complaining to the long-dead yielded no reply.
The drawn sword plunged once more into the heart. Red blood sprayed in all directions.
The man straightened from his crouch, elegantly wiping the blood from his face.
His towering six-foot frame exuded intimidation simply by standing.
“Since this traitor let them know our side has a relic fragment, there might be others who learned of it. Shall we dangle some bait?”
“No need. Now that they’ve touched the Righteous Faction rabble, they won’t move so openly for a while.”
“But the young master... .”
“Yu-un.”
At the man’s warning-laden call, the speaker shut his mouth with a frustrated expression.
“As if I have any son to speak of.”
With that quiet remark, the man wiped his hands with a cloth handed to him by his subordinate. He tossed the now blood-red cloth onto the corpse on the ground, gestured lightly, and turned away.
“Let’s go.”
His brown hair, streaked with gray, whipped in the wind.