The End of Patience
What's going on?
Yeop Pung stepped out of his tent. Off in the distance, a dozen-odd disciples of the Cheonun Sect stood gathered before the central command pavilion.
Han Un was at their head. Behind him stood Wang Maeng, Yo Yeong-chun, and Mo Soo-mi, who had joined them later. Every last face was dark with fury as they argued with an officer posted in front of the tent.
The narrow-eyed officer radiated an overbearing air. Hands planted on his hips, he looked down at Han Un and barked.
"That's enough, Han Un! Deputy General Naeng already said he won't see you. Kick up any more of a fuss here and I won't cut you slack just because you're from the Cheonun Sect!"
"But—!"
Han Un's voice cracked with the injustice of it.
"By every precedent until now, the team with the best record in the hunting tournament was allowed to train at the Moon Crater! Our Cheonun Sect clearly took first place this time, so why—"
"Damn it, precedent my ass!"
The officer slashed a hand through the air, his voice thick with irritation.
"The spots are decided by lottery. Call it bad luck and go back to your own place. Quietly. Or do I have to drag you there myself?"
"You—!"
Han Un's face went scarlet. The Cheonun disciples behind him were no less furious. Inside the sect they had never quite felt it this way, but out here they were treated like this wherever they went. The sheer shabbiness of the reception they were expected to swallow burned in their throats.
Just then, three shadows emerged from behind the enormous tent. Gi Yeo-hae and two other titans of the martial world.
They looked down on Han Un and his people with faint smiles. Not a word passed their lips, but their eyes were thick with contempt.
Hmph. The Cheonun Sect. You think taking first place on a lucky break changes a damn thing?
All you did was stumble into a beast tide and get fortunate. By true strength, you lot are still nothing but dirt to be crushed under our heels.
I don't even need to watch the Ascent Battle to know how you'll look. The Profound Qi Tide spots are no different. Then or now — nothing will change.
The Gi clan had taken the heaviest losses in this hunting tournament, and the mere sight of anyone from the Cheonun Sect made Gi Yeo-hae's blood boil. He stepped forward and regarded Han Un's party with a sneer.
"Elder Han. A man, you see, must know his place above all else. The Cheonun Sect... heh heh..."
That little laugh landed harder on the people of the Cheonun Sect than any insult he could have spoken.
Gi Yeo-hae and his companions headed for their own tents and began organizing their camps.
Everyone in the encampment would enjoy the blessings of the Profound Qi Tide. But as Han Un's party had just pointed out, even within the tide there were good spots and poor ones.
The powerhouses of Fengsang Commandery had long since mapped it all out. The Profound Qi Tide was set to begin tonight — the fifth night.
About a thousand li northeast of the camp, beneath a small hill known as the Moon Crater, several holes of unfathomable depth punched into the earth. Each time the tide rolled in, enormous quantities of pure Profound Qi surged up from within. The place was regarded as the finest blessed ground of the entire tide, the spot on all of Taibai Peak where a martial artist absorbed energy the fastest.
In years past, the Moon Crater had been reserved for the young heroes of the Military Supply Bureau. They had, of course, taken first place in the hunting stage, and so they received the finest treatment as a matter of course.
Not far east of the Moon Crater, some fifteen hundred feet away, lay a small pond. Spiritual energy rose from its surface like mist, weaving a scene as dreamlike as a vision. It was considered the second-best blessed ground of the Profound Qi Tide. The warriors of the Three Great Clans would claim the pond's edge and cultivate there, drawing the energy into themselves.
Everywhere else on Taibai Peak, the concentration of Profound Qi was much the same. Those ordinary stretches belonged to the Cheonun Sect and the disciples of the lesser clans.
To be perfectly cold about it, no one could say how great an opportunity four days of the Profound Qi Tide would truly offer any single martial artist. But what the Military Supply Bureau and the Three Great Clans had done this time was unmistakably meant to suppress the Cheonun Sect — and to settle a score.
The Cheonun Sect had clearly taken first place, and still they would have to train in ordinary ground. Lift their heads, and they would see the Bureau's martial artists cultivating at their leisure on the Moon Crater. Turn aside, and they would see the warriors of the Three Great Clans training in triumph along the pond.
The outrage of it all sat so hot in Han Un and his people that they could not concentrate on their cultivation at all.
But what else were they supposed to do? Even if Maeng Chang-haeng himself had come, he could not have changed this. Start a brawl? In the end, under Han Un's lead, the Cheonun disciples could only trudge back to their tents with their spirits crushed.
Every bit of it, however, landed whole in the eyes of Yeop Pung, watching from a distance. His gaze was cold, and a fire of rage burned in his chest.
The Cheonun party passed near Yeop Pung's tent. None of them seemed in any mood to talk. They saw him, said nothing, and went their own ways. Only Han Un stopped. He waited until the others had gone well ahead, then came over.
"Yeop Pung..."
Han Un stood beside him, looking out at the swaggering figures of the Three Great Clans and the Military Supply Bureau in the distance, and his voice was bleak.
"I entered the Cheonun Sect at ten years old. It has been nearly fifty years now..."
Yeop Pung could not tell why Han Un had suddenly begun like this. But Han Un was one of the very few people in the Cheonun Sect for whom he felt any genuine warmth. He smiled and answered.
"You don't look that old, Elder Han..."
Han Un gave a bitter smile and did not take the joke.
"In those fifty years... almost every time our people have stepped outside the sect, we have been treated just as unjustly as we were today. Do you know, Yeop Pung? I think I have grown used to it."
Yeop Pung said nothing. He simply listened.
Han Un turned toward him.
"But Yeop Pung — you have no idea how proud I was of you yesterday. The Cheonun Sect... for the first time in fifty years, it shone like that. Heh. You should have seen the faces on the Three Great Clans! And the disciples of the other houses, too! Haha. Just thinking about it is a pleasure..."
"Elder Han..."
"Truly. You really are something else."
Han Un looked at him, his voice thick with feeling.
"I don't know how you did it. But with you in the Cheonun Sect... heh. I find myself thinking it is no longer quite so hopeless."
He patted Yeop Pung's shoulder and added one last thing.
"Elder Han..."
Han Un's hand closed hard around Yeop Pung's shoulder. The meaning in the gesture was unmistakable.
Endure. Right now, you have to endure.
Han Un had almost certainly seen the fury on Yeop Pung's face a moment ago, and feared what he might do in the Ascent Battle. That was why he had spoken as he had.
The Ascent Battle was a different creature entirely from the beast-hunting tournament that had come before. Every participant was formidable, and among them were six-meridian experts like Gi Yeo-hae. If Yeop Pung let his feelings drive him, he might well never leave Taibai Peak alive.
Every insult and every injustice of the present moment would be borne by Han Un and the rest of the Cheonun disciples. Yeop Pung, for the future of the sect, had to keep his eyes on the larger board.
Yeop Pung said nothing. He only watched Han Un's receding back, and his chest felt as if a giant hand had closed around it.
Endure... Was patience truly all he had left? How much longer was he supposed to swallow this?
And the real question — could this kind of endurance actually bring peace and hope to him, or to the Cheonun Sect?
He doubted it. There were times when a problem found you no matter how hard you tried to step aside. You had to meet it head-on.
Look at the Gi clan disciples walking up ahead. Every last one of them was watching his people with murder in their eyes.
Qi Gongtian, foremost among them, was staring at Yeop Pung with a gaze like ice. He drew two fingers across his own throat, then let a cruel smile touch his mouth. The meaning needed no translation.
Yeop Pung. When the Ascent Battle comes, I will not leave you alive.
Run? Run where? Endure? There are things that only rot further the longer you endure them.
Yeop Pung locked eyes with Qi Gongtian across the distance, said nothing, and headed for Maeng Chang-haeng's tent. A fierce blaze of rage was burning in his chest.
He yanked the tent flap aside. Old Man Maeng was snoring away, as if he had not the faintest idea what was happening outside.
"Martial Grand-Uncle!"
Yeop Pung spoke each word with deliberate clarity.
"If I take first place in the hunting tournament — could that bring harm to the Cheonun Sect?"
Master Maeng's eyes snapped open, a sharp light bursting from them. He sat bolt upright, bored into Yeop Pung's gaze, and asked in a heavy voice,
"Yeop Pung. Do you understand what you're saying?"
"I do. I know that if I take first place in the hunting tournament, it could bring the sect trouble it doesn't need."
He put the question before his grand-uncle once more.
"You little bastard. How sure are you? I already told you there's nothing I can do to help this time..."
"Better than sixty percent."
Maeng Chang-haeng was silent for a moment. His eyes flicked rapidly left and right, as if he were turning over a problem of extraordinary complexity.
At last he brought his palm down hard on his thigh.
"Fine! If we're doing this, we do it properly! Yeop Pung, if you actually take first place, I'll settle every problem that comes of it. But tell me how you plan to pull it off."
Yeop Pung drew a deep breath and spoke slowly.
"Martial Grand-Uncle... the truth is, there isn't only one path up Taibai Peak."
"What?"
Maeng Chang-haeng's eyes went wide.
For the four days that followed, the encampment was peaceful. Everyone threw themselves into training, timing their efforts to the hours when the Profound Qi Tide surged. No one made trouble.
The atmosphere between the camps, however, could not have been more starkly divided. The Military Supply Bureau on the Moon Crater was like a lion enthroned on high. They received the finest treatment and passed their hours at their ease. Body and mind at rest, their cultivation proceeded smoothly.
The Three Great Clans by the pond were like three savage wolves crouched at the lion's feet. They lounged comfortably in that borrowed prestige, and they too borrowed the tide's power to push their realms higher.
The disciples of the lesser clans, who had never expected much to begin with, took it all in stride. The Profound Qi Tide was a stroke of fortune by nature, and they meant to enjoy it.
The most stifled of all, of course, were the people of the Cheonun Sect.
And yet, strangely, not one of them left the camp this time. Each buried himself in training inside his own tent. At night they gathered to talk it through together. Discontent sat plain on every face, but they caused no incidents.
On the fourth night, the Profound Qi Tide gradually faded. Everyone returned to their tents to prepare for the Ascent Battle that would begin the following morning.
But Yeop Pung, alone in his tent, slowly opened his eyes.
"Golden Disc Bro. It's time we started the time travel."