The Northwest Mission
The impact of winning the Heavenly Martial Tournament shook the Central Plains. Regardless of one's origins or the path taken, a winner is a winner. Baek Un-hyeon's martial prowess had been overwhelming enough to dominate the Shaolin's Eighteen Arhats in the finals. After lengthy deliberations, the Murim Alliance elders granted an unprecedented privilege. Tournament victors were traditionally expected to join the Murim Alliance's youth corps as its leader, commanding the scions of the great sects. Yet no one expected—or believed—that the young master of a modest manor with only a handful of servants could command the proud disciples of those major sects. Thus was born the proposal to create a Special Unit: select volunteers from among the tournament participants and place them under Baek Un-hyeon's direct command. A new force composed solely of promising youths came into existence. Its only real difference from the units they would otherwise have joined was that every member had volunteered.
On the day the unit assembled, the Murim Alliance training grounds lay shrouded in thick morning mist. Roughly thirty promising youths stood in formation. Some were barely past their studies, while others had already passed their thirtieth year. Because only volunteers had been accepted, most hailed from nameless minor sects, and their gazes were far from uniformly approving.
"I joined the Murim Alliance, but… even if he is the champion, following orders from some country bumpkin feels wrong."
"Was his victory truly not a fluke? Monk Hye-jin must not have accepted the result, which is why he returned to Shaolin."
"It is not only Monk Hye-jin. Most of the others refused to join this unit at all."
Mocking voices rose from every direction, as though the speakers had come against their will. Surprisingly, even Jin Cheong-myeong of the Mount Hua Sect and Jin Hyeon of the Wudang Sect—both present at the inn that day—had joined. The younger disciples who had never reached the finals displayed an entirely positive attitude.
"Hmph! If you are so dissatisfied, why did you come at all?"
"You are simply jealous because the captain achieved at twenty what none of you could!"
"Wow… Young Master Baek is so handsome!"
"They say he defeated the Shaolin monk in the finals without even drawing his sword. Is that true?"
Boys and girls in their mid-teens whispered with shining eyes. Their skin still bore the softness of youth, and the hands gripping their swords were small. Watching them, Baek Un-hyeon felt a weight settle in his chest. This was not an entirely welcome sign.
…They want me to reveal my martial arts.
"…Follow me. I will test your skills."
He had seen through the Murim Alliance's intentions, yet he did not turn the children away. What fault did these young ones bear? It was all the adults' filthy schemes. He had felt it for years: the weakness of his own clan was simply pitiful.
"Hmm…"
The abilities of most members were dismal. When anyone could join, the disparity was bound to be enormous. Those with real skill had already gone to the units they were originally meant to join. As for the likes of Jin Cheong-myeong, who had reached the finals, their strength was considerable, yet they showed no intention of displaying it.
"Place your foot like this and lower your center of gravity."
With so many lacking basic competence, Baek Un-hyeon suddenly found himself acting as an instructor. He began teaching with a grave expression. His sword tip traced clean arcs through the air—swift, precise, yet slow enough for anyone to follow. Those who had mocked him at first snorted, convinced that a nobody from a minor house would be too busy protecting his own secrets to teach others. But after witnessing his swordplay firsthand, they fell silent. They understood that Un-hyeon was genuinely trying to instruct them. When a single demonstration corrected their postures, no more retorts came. A clearly superior expert was personally teaching them; even if it was not what they had wanted, there was no reason to refuse.
While instructing everyone except Jin Cheong-myeong's group, he observed each member. Just as some called Un-hyeon a dragon from a ditch, this unit contained several whose future potential far exceeded their current level. The most striking among them was Yi Cheon-woo. Sixteen years old, a lay disciple of the Wudang Sect. His fellow disciple Jin Hyeon had never looked after him. His sword hand was small, his movements clumsy—unbelievable for a disciple of a great sect. Yet his eyes were more earnest than anyone's, and he absorbed instruction faster than anyone else.
"Young Master! Please show me one more time!"
"…Your arm is too high. Like this."
When Un-hyeon corrected his posture, Cheon-woo's face lit up. His stance immediately became neat and proper. The boy possessed remarkable talent, yet his fundamentals were this lacking. It was rather strange.
"Thank you, Young Master! You are… you are truly amazing!"
Baek Un-hyeon gave a small smile. He had considered withdrawing from the Murim Alliance altogether, regardless of his family's honor, but the enthusiasm of these members held him back. Days passed in this manner. Though Un-hyeon kept his distance, thinking it would only be temporary, the bonds among the members grew steadily closer. He was not so cold as to forcibly push away those who treated him warmly, and this held true even for the disciples of the great sects. He always approached Jin Cheong-myeong's group first, and they could not maintain their aloofness forever.
Then one day, after training, a man came looking for Baek Un-hyeon. It was Jin Cheong-myeong. He bowed his head and lowered his voice.
"Captain… I am truly sorry for what I said at the inn that day. I had misunderstood you."
His eyes seemed sincere. Un-hyeon could not tell what had caused the change of heart, but his attitude had completely transformed. Un-hyeon regarded him quietly.
"…I am not concerned about it."
He was not truly unconcerned. Every time he forced himself to approach the same unit members, his stomach twisted. Yet the fact that this proud Mount Hua disciple had offered an apology first sent a great ripple through his heart.
Afterward, Jin Cheong-myeong truly seemed to have changed his mind, adopting an active attitude in all matters—including the other major-sect disciples who had gathered around him.
***
Time flowed tediously. A month had passed since the Special Unit's formation. Every dawn, Baek Un-hyeon taught the members at the training grounds—from fundamentals to swordsmanship and internal energy circulation. He imparted many things beyond his family's secret arts. Contrary to his initial discomfort, he found himself actively instructing the unit members and made excuses for it: among them, someone would one day become a great help to the Baek clan. The seeds sown today would one day grow into mighty trees.
"Again. If you do not master it properly, stay up all night until you do."
Even so, he had no desire to waste time in this fashion. He drove the members forward with a cold voice.
There is still no mission. I cannot simply rot away like this.
Just as his worries deepened, an order arrived from the Murim Alliance: investigate unusual incidents in the northwest region.
Baek Un-hyeon received the directive in the elders' hall and gathered the members to discuss it.
"The northwest… Does that not mean they are sending us toward the Demonic Cult's stronghold?" Jin Cheong-myeong asked, examining the order.
"No. The very fact that they specified the northwest tells us it is merely an order to move in that direction. There is no reason for us to approach the vicinity of the Demonic Cult's base," Namgung Seong replied with a smile.
Baek Un-hyeon nodded. "They want us to gain experience. Still, they are giving us an opportunity."
It would be real combat, yet the danger level appeared low. The members prepared to depart with faces mixing tension and excitement. The journey was long. Along the mountain path heading northwest, while riding in carriages and on horseback, Baek Un-hyeon heard voices in the distance. Namgung Seong and Jin Cheong-myeong were talking.
"Brother Jin, they say the Mount Hua sword carries the scent of plum blossoms. Is that true?"
"…How do you know that, Brother Namgung?"
Perhaps because they were finally traveling outside, Namgung Seong's voice was filled with excitement, just like the other members. Jin Cheong-myeong answered with a laugh. As a branch-family member of the Namgung clan, Namgung Seong had always felt inferior to direct-line heirs and to sect disciples like Jin Cheong-myeong. Yet now that sense of inferiority was nowhere to be seen. Un-hyeon recalled that the two had been spending a great deal of time together lately.
"Haha, that is not all. The Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Art, which can release the plum blossom scent, is a secret technique only the Mount Hua Sect's direct disciples may learn. There is no law stating one cannot become a master without learning the Plum Blossom Sword Art, is there?"
"That is true! Our Namgung clan also has many sayings about how one who does not embrace the heavens cannot be Namgung, so it is embarrassing to walk with one's head held high!"
They seemed to have grown quite close. Baek Un-hyeon smiled faintly.
Those two… only a month ago they were the ones arguing the most.
At first, those who supported Baek Un-hyeon and those who did not had been sharply divided. Jin Cheong-myeong and Namgung Seong in particular had clashed at every turn.
Thank goodness. If they had continued fighting even on a mission, it would have been dangerous.
He quietly left the spot.
"By the way… about our destination, Brother Jin. Last time you mentioned—"
"Shh, someone might hear."
***
They finally arrived at the designated location: a remote mountain village in the northwest. It was not far from Wungye County, Baek Un-hyeon's hometown. Since Wungye County itself lay in Shaanxi Province, even though it was a border region, it was not an entirely remote backwater. The members were moving at a leisurely pace. Once the simple investigation was complete, they could head to a major city and rest for a few days. Yet even before reaching the village, Baek Un-hyeon sensed that something was wrong. The air felt sticky. The scent of blood was so thick it stung his nose. The surrounding trees were withered, and faint bloodstains remained on the ground. This was not the level of a few wild animals having died.
"Battle formation. The operation is canceled."
"What? What do you mean?"
"No time to explain. We leave the mountains first."
It seemed none of the others had yet detected the blood scent. Still, the month of instruction appeared to have had some effect; at his command, the members drew their swords and began watching their surroundings. They advanced slowly, scanning in all directions, retracing the path that led from the forest into the village. Yet the precaution proved meaningless. An ambush came.
Black shadows poured out from the darkness.
"D-demonic humans!" one member cried.
Demonic Cult demonic humans. Crimson eyes flashed beneath black masks. Toxic qi rose from the tips of their blades. Seeing demonic humans for the first time, Baek Un-hyeon gritted his teeth. The utterly malevolent aura made it clear why they were distinguished even from the unorthodox factions. These were not beings that could be called human.
The battle began. Baek Un-hyeon's sword moved like lightning. But the enemies were strong. And with every clash of blades, he felt the illusion that his body was rotting. In reality, he was expending far more internal energy than usual.
Did the Murim Alliance send us knowing this?
Baek Un-hyeon's brows furrowed. That could not be. More than half of the thirty members came from nameless minor sects, but Jin Cheong-myeong and Yu Seol-hwa were from Mount Hua, while Jin Hyeon and Yi Cheon-woo were from Wudang—not to mention Namgung Seong. Their levels were too low to suggest the Alliance had trusted in their strength, yet too many irreplaceable talents were present for the Alliance to have desired their sacrifice. This had to be an accident.