The Grand Design

An hour later, the battle at Cheonun Square was over. Not a single soldier among the Cheonbong Army's eight thousand had survived. They had been annihilated to the last man.

A cold killing intent still hung over the square. The masters of Cheonun Sect had shown not a shred of mercy. Every Cheonbong soldier they spared today would become an enemy who threatened the sect's very survival tomorrow. Death was the only ending the Cheonbong Army would be allowed.

Once everything had fallen silent, Han Buri's expression never thawed as he released Naeng Chu's arm. The commander crumpled to the ground.

"You people..."

Naeng Chu was a Spirit Realm master, but the drug Han Buri had forced on him had been brutally effective. Only now, as his strength slowly returned, could he finally speak.

"You're courting your own deaths! Lee Sujol! Han Buri! The Governor will never let this stand! Cheonun Sect will be razed to the ground!"

Lee Sujol descended slowly to the earth. Throughout the battle he had barely moved, only occasionally sending a blade of sword qi through the air to cut down a few Cheonbong soldiers who tried to flee.

And yet everyone present could feel the terrifying pressure radiating from their Sect Master. He had already surpassed the mid-tier thresholds of the Spirit Realm and reached its absolute pinnacle — the Great Spiritual Sea Realm. He possessed the strength to dominate this entire gathering by himself.

Lee Sujol looked down at Naeng Chu with an expressionless face, his voice even and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠devoid of either anger or joy.

"Commander Naeng Chu, your joke has gone too far. Do you truly believe that if Cheonun Sect swallowed this humiliation and begged for our lives, we would be granted peace?"

"Hahaha..."

Naeng Chu laughed a wretched, broken laugh.

"You have no idea what you've just done. Hahaha. You have no idea how terrifying the Governor's strength truly is! Cheonun Sect — I will stay right here on this mountain and watch every last one of you die by his hand! Hahaha!"

A wet, sickening crack.

The moment the words left his mouth, Naeng Chu seized the Profound Qi he had only just recovered and severed every meridian in his body, detonating himself before their eyes.

"Hah! What a vicious bastard!"

Maeng Chang-haeng approached from the side, soaked from head to toe in blood. In the battle just now he had personally cut down eight Spirit Realm masters of the Cheonbong Army. Flushed with excitement, his blood still boiling, he looked for all the world like a steaming bun fresh from the pot.

A cough. Another cough.

The people around him unconsciously took half a step back.

"Someone collect the bodies of Naeng Chu and the Cheonbong soldiers and bury them on the back mountain."

At Lee Sujol's command, nearby Cheonun disciples began clearing the battlefield.

Before long, Cheonun Square was clean once more. Some of the disciples let out sighs of relief. Others still trembled with a mixture of excitement, horror, and fear.

What had happened today was too shocking. No one could say how things would unfold from here.

But one thing was certain: Cheonun Sect and the Military Supply Bureau had crossed a river from which there was no return. The Governor who had held Bongsang for decades would soon raise a tide of death to wipe Cheonun Sect from existence.

Today they had slaughtered the Cheonbong Army and felt a moment of triumph — but what about tomorrow? With Cheonun Sect's current strength, could they truly stand against the Military Supply Bureau?

Among the crowd, Yeop Pung's expression had gone rigid. In the battle that had just torn through the square, he could not even count how many Cheonbong soldiers he had cut down.

Now that it was over, a sour unease sat in his chest. Lee Sujol and Maeng Chang-haeng had hidden everything from him. Or perhaps they had simply used him. They had known how much he suffered over that death-match, and they had stood by and watched. They had even let him fight Sa Cheonseong in a duel to the death.

How dangerous was that? What if I had actually died? Would that have counted as a worthy sacrifice for Cheonun Sect?

Of course, if it had come to that, the Sect Master would surely have protected him with the Gyeongcheon Sword.

But why didn't the Sect Master give me even a hint beforehand? Was watching me twist myself into knots that entertaining?

Yeop Pung said nothing. Wang Maeng and Yo Yeong-chun came over and embraced him fiercely, but he only managed a faint smile.

Han Un, who approached without a word, patted Yeop Pung's shoulder and spoke with his eyes.

"Yeop Pung... this time... you really did well."

Yeop Pung looked at Han Un and finally allowed himself a smile of relief. Whatever else had happened, he had saved Han Un and Wang Maeng. That, at least, eased his conscience. The lingering resentment toward Maeng Chang-haeng and Lee Sujol, however, remained.

Then Lee Sujol, standing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tall upon the platform, opened his mouth. At his side stood five Peak Masters — Han Buri, Maeng Chang-haeng, Yeom Jin-ri, Gu Jeoryang, and Ha Chung — a solid wall of power. For the first time, the six great masters of Cheonun Sect revealed themselves in all their majesty. Each of them had reached the Spirit Lake threshold, and some had even attained the Great Spiritual Sea Realm. The fierce aura they unleashed silenced the noisy crowd in an instant.

"Everyone. You must have been greatly shocked today."

Lee Sujol's heavy, measured voice rolled across the square.

Murmurs erupted from every corner of the square. They had only just fought a battle for their lives, and already Lee Sujol was driving people out.

But on reflection, it was only natural. When Cheonun Sect had fallen, at least half the disciples had grovelled before the Cheonbong Army. How could such people be trusted to defend the sect? They were far more likely to betray it.

People glanced at one another, hesitating. No one dared to move first.

That was when Ha Chung, standing beside the Sect Master, finally lost his patience and roared.

"What are you standing around for? You bastards who were so eager to join the Martial Academy earlier! Get the hell out of my sight! If you have the gall to keep standing there, I'll send you flying with this fist!"

Damn it! Let's get out of here!

Peak Master Ha Chung's fists were infamous.

In an instant the crowd began to peel away. Four or five thousand terrified Cheonun disciples slipped silently from the ranks and headed down the mountain. From this day forward they were no longer disciples of Cheonun Sect. Whatever became of the sect's future, it was no longer their concern.

After about an hour, only half the people remained in the square. And yet the atmosphere had grown firmer, more resolute. Those who stayed were comrades who would share life and death together.

But it was not over. Lee Sujol spoke again, his tone still even.

"Junior Brother Han. The next part is yours."

"Understood."

Han Buri bowed his head with perfect deference. There was no longer even a trace of the insolence he had once shown Lee Sujol.

He stepped forward, unrolled the long roster in his hands, and began to read the names in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a carrying voice.

"Those whose names I call, come forward. Jang Pyeong of Nowoon Peak. Jo Biun..."

One by one, bewildered people walked out of the crowd. They stared at one another in confusion. No one had any idea what was happening.

Yeop Pung studied the unfamiliar faces. Most of them were Cheonun disciples who had fought bravely only moments ago. He even recognized two comrades from the Cheonun 1st Squad.

What on earth is this?

It took a long time for Han Buri to finish reading a roster of more than a thousand names. When the last name had been called, he snapped the list shut with a sharp crack and thundered at them.

What? Every one of them was a spy planted by another faction?

Even Yeop Pung's face registered shock. He had never imagined that so many agents had burrowed into Cheonun Sect.

But he quickly revised his thinking. Perhaps this entire false-surrender operation had been a trap designed to flush them out. It might even have been the most important objective of all.

They had used the sect's crisis to goad these spies into moving, into passing information to the outside — and then they had netted them all in a single sweep, purging Cheonun Sect from within. What a magnificent design it was.

The thousand-odd people standing before the square could only stare at one another. Not one of them had imagined their identities would be exposed.

Just as Yeop Pung had guessed, once Cheonun Sect was in crisis and even the Sect Master had been taken prisoner, they had unconsciously made mistakes they would never have made in ordinary times. And so they had all been caught at once.

Lee Sujol. Han Buri. They were truly terrifying men — to use the entire Cheonun Sect as bait, and then reel them in.

The spies left in silence. They had been utterly defeated. Some of them, before departing, went to where their masters stood, bowed their heads to the ground, and only then turned away.

They were shadows who lived in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a darkness where not a single ray of sunlight fell. No one could know what thoughts occupied their hearts. They had harmed Cheonun Sect, and yet when the moment came to leave it, they could not quite let go. The human heart was a truly unknowable thing.

A short while later, more than a thousand people had vanished from the square. Of a gathering that had originally numbered over ten thousand, more than half were gone, and the atmosphere turned suddenly still and hollow.

No one's heart was at peace. The events of the day had struck them in wave after wave.

Everyone thought at last that this great stage was about to lower its curtain. Then, without warning, Lee Sujol, Han Buri, and Maeng Chang-haeng turned as one and encircled a single figure on the platform in a triangle. Three faint streams of Profound Qi shot toward the sky, and the mood of the entire gathering shifted once more.

The person they had surrounded was someone no one had expected.

An inexpressible sorrow spread across Lee Sujol's face. His voice dropped low, every word heavy as stone.

What?

Everyone was stunned. Yeop Pung stood frozen as well, staring at Ha Chung, Peak Master of Hwaun Peak. He could not believe that Lee Sujol's words were true.

There's something wrong with Ha Chung too?

Every gaze in the square locked onto Ha Chung. In that instant he wore a bitter smile that did not belong among the others at all, and his hair flushed a deep, vivid red.