Chapter 596: To Hell with Humanity
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 596: To Hell with Humanity
"Just because someone has power doesn't mean they are obligated to use it for others, does it?"
Sun-woo spoke with a calm, detached expression.
He truly believed those words.
Since falling into the world of Murim, he had endured every imaginable injustice. From the moment he arrived, he was met with nothing but contempt and insults. Later, he was framed just to protect the honor and prestige of the Cheonmu Alliance, eventually being branded a Public Enemy of the Murim.
Throughout that entire ordeal, not a single person had stood up for him or spoken on his behalf—despite how suspicious the circumstances clearly were. They had simply placed blind faith in Lee Jae-won and the Cheonmu Alliance.
Sun-woo knew the truth. He knew that the leadership had remained silent in unison, despite the glaring inconsistencies in the frame-up. They did it solely for the sake of the Alliance's reputation.
Why should he feel any sense of humanity or urge to step forward for people like that?
It was laughable. They were the ones who had forced a personal sacrifice upon him for the sake of the 'majority,' and now they were crawling back, begging for help.
"You! Is that any way for a chivalrous hero of the Orthodox Faction to speak?!"
"I have never once called myself a hero, Hall Master Heo Sam-gwan."
"What?!"
"Have you ever heard a single story of me performing an act of chivalry?" Sun-woo asked, sounding genuinely curious.
"..."
At that, Heo Sam-gwan fell silent, his mouth clamped shut. He couldn't think of a single anecdote that fit the description.
'Unbelievable.'
Seeing his reaction, Sun-woo let out a hollow laugh. He had never performed an act of chivalry in his life. He had simply struggled and fought with everything he had just to survive. To have someone demand 'chivalry' from him now was nothing short of a joke.
"I am not a hero. I’m not a villain, either. Nor am I a member of the Cheonmu Alliance. I am merely a martial artist living in the Murim. Do not try to force your sense of chivalry on me."
Sun-woo continued, his expression firm. If he allowed himself to be swayed by emotional appeals, there would be no end to it. People would cling to him from every direction, demanding sacrifice under the pretext of doing what is 'right.' And if he refused their pleas, they would turn on him, accusing him of losing his way or abandoning his principles.
He loathed that prospect. He had no desire to sacrifice himself for nothing. He didn't want to be a 'hero of the masses' who was only expected to give unconditionally.
He was no saint. Nor was he a hero driven by a love for humanity. He was just an ordinary man who lost motivation—and eventually avoided things altogether—if there was no reward involved.
By what right did they measure him against the standards of a hero? It was the height of selfishness.
"The Great War of Righteousness and Demons will take everything precious from you! Not just the Heavenly Phoenix and her mother, the Great Matriarch, whom you support, but even your own sect, the Sichuan Tang Clan, will not emerge unscathed!" Heo Sam-gwan roared, his voice rising.
If the war began, Joo So-yang, Lee Ye-seol, and even the Tang Clan would be in jeopardy. No matter how formidable the Poison King was, he alone wouldn't be enough to stem the tide of the demonic hordes.
Heo Sam-gwan believed that even if Sun-woo had been expelled, some lingering affection for his sect must remain.
"It doesn't matter," Sun-woo replied firmly.
"Are you saying you would abandon your own sect?!" Heo Sam-gwan shouted, his face flushing deep red.
"If it comes to the sect, can I not simply protect it with my own hands?" Sun-woo countered calmly.
"Then what about the Heavenly Phoenix! What about her mother, the Great Matriarch?!"
"I don't believe I owe them that kind of loyalty."
Sun-woo’s tone remained flat.
"Our alliance was formed purely for mutual benefit from the start. It’s not as if I joined them out of some sense of devotion, nor do I have any personal feelings for them. Why should I sacrifice myself for their sake?"
Sun-woo drew a hard line, his expression resolute.
Of course, it was a lie. He had already developed more than enough affection for them; they had taken root in the deepest parts of his heart as precious, irreplaceable people. He couldn't even imagine a life without them.
But Sun-woo spat out the lie anyway. He claimed they were merely business partners gathered for a common goal, with not a shred of personal emotion between them.
He didn't want them to become his weakness.
He had already crossed the point of no return with Lee Jae-won. If his closeness with the mother and daughter became public knowledge, they would be in grave danger. He had to keep his distance—to ensure they didn't become his Achilles' heel, and to keep them out of harm's way.
"That... that's..."
Heo Sam-gwan stammered, looking utterly bewildered. He had never expected Sun-woo to react this way. He had viewed Sun-woo as a paragon of chivalry, the likes of which the world rarely saw. He assumed that anyone raised under a prominent Orthodox figure like the Poison King would naturally possess the heart of a hero who revered and practiced chivalry.
It seemed he had been entirely mistaken. To think he was such a selfish man, caring for no one but himself.
"Young Master! You are wrong! Great power inherently comes with great responsibility! How can you shrink away from that duty?!"
He felt the need to enlighten him. He had to fix this rotten, selfish attitude. Sun-woo had obtained martial arts so powerful that even the world's greatest, Lee Jae-won, feared him, yet it seemed he lacked the character to match that strength.
As a senior of the Murim, Heo Sam-gwan felt he had to guide his junior back to the righteous path.
"By what criteria are you judging what is right or wrong? These are simply my values. This isn't a concept you can label as 'right' or 'wrong,'" Sun-woo said, his brow furrowing slightly.
He didn't appreciate the way the man assumed he was the only one who was right, trying to force his values onto others. How could a person's values be judged by some absolute standard? As long as one doesn't harm others, any set of values should be respected. At least, that was what Sun-woo believed.
He felt a surge of defiance against Heo Sam-gwan’s self-righteous attitude.
"No, it can be judged! If it fails to meet the standards accepted by the world!"
"Those 'accepted standards' are merely common standards; they are not absolute."
"How can you be so perverse? Everyone else lives according to those common standards, so why must you be the only one acting so twisted?!"
"I'm not criticizing their way of life. In fact, I respect it. I simply want that same respect in return."
"Your values are fundamentally flawed. How can they be respected?"
"Exactly which part is flawed?"
"The Great War of Righteousness and Demons is a conflict where hundreds, if not thousands, of people will die. To have the power to stop such a war and choose to remain a bystander—how can you say that isn't flawed?!"
"Wasn't the decision to go to war with the Demonic Cult made by the leadership of the Cheonmu Alliance? Why should I be the one to step in and tell them their choice was wrong?"
"They are wrong! They've all been led astray by the Alliance Leader's silver tongue!" Heo Sam-gwan shouted, the veins in his neck bulging. His anger toward the leadership, including the Alliance Leader, was boiling over—anger at those who were letting their emotions drive them toward a horrific war.
"How ridiculous," Sun-woo remarked dryly.
"What did you just say?!"
"I said it's ridiculous." Sun-woo stared at him with cold eyes. "Since we started talking, you've done nothing but insist that everyone except you is wrong, using your own personal yardstick as the ultimate truth. How could I not find that ridiculous?"
It was absurd. Utterly absurd. Heo Sam-gwan’s conviction that he alone was right and he alone represented justice was laughable.
"Then do you think it's right to start a war based on circumstantial evidence alone, without even identifying a proper culprit?!"
"The leadership must have had a justifiable reason for agreeing to it, didn't they?"
"I told you! they were bewitched by the Alliance Leader's treacherous tongue!"
"Hall Master Heo." Sun-woo fixed him with a chilling gaze.
"What is it?!"
"How many people actually opposed the war?"
"Aside from me, no one! Now do you see? Do you see how dire the situation is?"
"I'll say it again: you are incredibly arrogant."
"What?!"
"Do you truly believe the others agreed to the war because they are dim-witted?" Sun-woo’s voice turned hard. "The leaders of the Cheonmu Alliance are cunning old foxes who represent their respective members. Do you really think men like that were simply 'bewitched' by the Alliance Leader's words?"
"What on earth are you talking about?"
"They gave their sincere consent. They weren't misled; they truly want this war."
"Impossible! That can't be! They all lived through the war twenty years ago! How could people like that sincerely wish for another war?!" Heo Sam-gwan roared.
It was nonsense to him. How could they want war? Every member of the leadership was a veteran of the previous conflict. They, more than anyone else, knew the horror, the sorrow, and the tragedy of war. For such people to want war? It was pure madness.
"Not everyone thinks like you, Hall Master," Sun-woo said, watching him. "While there are those like you who don't want war, there are plenty of others who do."
"Absurd! What madman would want war? War is the worst possible catastrophe, filled with nothing but horror and tragedy! How could anyone desire that?!"
"You aren't wrong, Hall Master. War is indeed a catastrophe—a cycle of horror and tragedy." Sun-woo nodded slowly. "If you're looking at it from a humanitarian perspective, that is."
He then added a condition.
"What?" Heo Sam-gwan asked, looking confused.
"From a humanitarian perspective, 'terrible' isn't a strong enough word for war. Human life becomes more worthless than ever. But from a different perspective, war isn't necessarily a negative thing. In fact, there are plenty of people who see it as a golden opportunity."
"From what possible perspective could war be an opportunity?!" Heo Sam-gwan yelled, unable to comprehend.
"If a war breaks out with the Demonic Cult, what will be needed? Weapons and military supplies. A massive amount of them. The Hundred Thousand Mountains are an impregnable fortress that even the Emperor couldn't conquer."
Sun-woo continued in a level voice.
"So, where will all those supplies come from? They'll be purchased through merchants. Those merchants will pay premiums to blacksmiths and farmers to secure vast quantities of goods. Then, they'll hire labor to transport those supplies—porters to carry the loads and martial artists to protect them. And what happens then? Money begins to circulate throughout the entire Central Plains."
Sun-woo laid it out point by point.
"From a merchant's perspective, war is by no means a bad thing. Especially if it's a war between martial artists rather than nations. After all, most of the damage will be contained within the Murim itself."
War is horrific. That is an undeniable fact. Countless lives are rendered worthless, ordinary daily life collapses, and everything precious vanishes under the name of conflict.
But from other perspectives, war was practically a boon.
To a merchant, war meant profit. It meant a staggering amount of capital flowing into the market.
To a martial artist, war was a chance to elevate their reputation. It provided a stage to perform great deeds, make a name for themselves, and gain the prestige they craved.
To a person in power, war was an opportunity to seize control. One's political standing shifted based on their performance in the conflict.
The stance on war changed depending on where one stood.
That was why it was so ridiculous—watching Heo Sam-gwan turn red in the face, insisting the war must be stopped based solely on his own narrow view. Here he was, searching for humanity and shouting about chivalry in a Cheonmu Alliance where the very value of chivalry had long since faded away.