Blessing or Calamity

Everyone present, Yeop Pung included, was seeing a top-grade Profound Weapon for the first time. By every account, even within the Cheonun Sect such treasures numbered only a handful.

In ages past, it was said, there had existed Spirit Treasures far more powerful than Profound Weapons. But in this age even Sect Master Lee Sujol himself wielded a top-grade Profound Weapon. Little wonder, then, that every eye in reach coveted the Black Frost Sword.

They gazed upon its slender, jet-black blade. Faint crimson markings ran along both faces — forging patterns born only of a thousand hammer-blows and a hundred quenchings. Those marks served as channels for Profound Qi, and the finer and denser they were, the more devastating the power they could unleash.

A top-grade Profound Weapon condensed its wielder's Profound Qi several times over, multiplying their combat strength. Maeng Chang-haeng's earlier blow had clearly been a failure of restraint.

Even nestled in Han Un's arms, Yeop Pung could not tear his eyes from the Black Frost Sword.

What an incredible sword.

If I could get my hands on an even finer Black Frost Sword and pour my golden Profound Qi into it, couldn't I cut down a warrior of the 6th Meridian Mysterious Realm with ease — even without any sword Profound Arts...? But that was fantasy and nothing more. The Black Frost Sword was a prize that had to be offered up to the sect.

And yet Maeng Chang-haeng was giving Yeop Pung a sly, knowing smile, the look of a man with something up his sleeve.

The airship sped into the territory of Mount Tianyun. In the distance, the majestic bulk of Cheonun Peak began to rise into view.

At that same moment, inside Wangcheon Hall — the main hall of Cheonun Peak — Lee Sujol stood before the pavilion, watching a tiny black speck appear on the far horizon. His white beard trembled in the empty air.

"They've returned..."

In that instant his gaze grew immeasurably deep, as though he had reached some grave decision.

In the blink of an eye the airship arrived above Cheonun Square. Even before it had landed, a roar like boiling water rose from below.

"They're back! They're back! They're finally back!"

Tens of thousands of Cheonun Sect disciples packed the square, swept up in a tide of excitement. They had gathered to welcome the glorious return of the sect's heroes.

When word of first place in the Hunt had arrived, the people of Cheonun Sect had been as joyful as if the New Year itself had come. No — they were more excited than for the New Year. The New Year came every year. Winning the Hunt was something that had not happened in decades.

Yeop Pung stood at the ship's railing, his heavily bandaged legs crossed. Before his eyes stretched a sea of radiant faces; in his ears, nothing but cheers meant for him alone.

"Senior Brother Yeop! Look! It's Senior Brother Yeop!"

Someone with a sharp eye pointed, and in an instant every gaze in the square locked onto Yeop Pung.

"Kyaa! Senior Brother Yeop is so handsome! He shines even wrapped in bandages! No, no! My heart's going to explode!"

Among the women in particular, talk of forming a following for Yeop Pung had been circulating ever since the inner disciple examinations. That talk had died down during his wall-facing seclusion. But look at the banners hanging beneath the airship now!

Yeop Pung narrowed his eyes at the banners below. Han Un, standing beside him, clapped him on the shoulder.

"Well, kid? How's it feel to be a hero?"

"Seems a bit much..."

"Heh heh."

Han Un burst out laughing.

"Listen to you, being modest."

"World's finest looks? At best I'm the handsomest guy in Cheonun Sect.... Ah, Elder Han, where are you going? How am I supposed to get down like this?"

"Take that famous face of yours and figure it out!"

Han Un vanished without so much as a backward glance.

At last, amid countless cheers, the Hunt's participants descended from the airship one by one, heads held high.

Wang Maeng, Yo Yeong-chun, and all the rest once more drank in the tremendous welcome they had first tasted at the foot of Taibai Peak. The moment their feet touched the ground, people swarmed around them, desperate to hear every last detail of the Hunt. Three days and nights of storytelling would not have been enough.

When Yeop Pung came down from the ship, the commotion swelled even greater. His limping gait was hardly graceful, but a hero was a hero. Even the limp looked dashing to the crowd. The cheers never stopped, and people charged at him like mad.

Just as the square was about to slip entirely out of control, Maeng Chang-haeng strolled leisurely out of the cabin. Gazing at the hot, vibrant scene spread before him, he felt a satisfaction beyond words.

How long has it been since Cheonun Sect last looked this alive! What we brought back from the Hunt isn't merely one Black Frost Sword and a few thousand spirit pills. We brought back the very spirit of Cheonun Sect!

But then his gaze traveled farther. From the opposite side of the square, a group of people was striding toward them. The moment he saw the figure at their head, Maeng Chang-haeng's face went rigid.

"Silence!"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

A voice like thunder swallowed the entire square.

People turned. They saw an old man wearing a jade crown and magnificent robes, his bearing imposing. He was approaching with a cold expression, a group of elders in his wake.

"P-Peak Master Han?"

Han Un and the others recognized him as Han Buri, Peak Master of Nowoon Peak of the Cheonun Sect, and hastily offered their respects.

"Disciple Han Un pays his respects to the Peak Master!"

The tens of thousands of third-generation disciples gathered in the square bowed their heads as one.

"We pay our respects to the Peak Master!"

"Mm."

Han Buri answered in a cold voice. There was not a trace of the joy that lit everyone else's faces. Maintaining that icy expression, he walked up to Yeop Pung and looked down at him.

"You're Yeop Pung?"

His tone was thoroughly unpleasant. This was Yeop Pung's first meeting with the recently famous Peak Master of Nowoon Peak. He had no idea why the man looked so displeased, but he answered all the same.

"Disciple Yeop Pung pays his respects to the Peak Master."

Han Buri's sharply gleaming eyes held a deep loathing. He looked at Yeop Pung as one might look at a flea too repulsive to tolerate, and flicked his hand.

"Drag that boy to Nowoon Peak at once! I have words for him."

"Yes, sir!"

Two Nowoon Peak elders behind him stepped forward with long strides. Thick steel chains hung in their hands. Without so much as a word of explanation, they moved to clap those chains on Yeop Pung.

"Stop!"

Han Un, standing beside them, cried out in shock.

Yeop Pung was a hero of Cheonun Sect — why was he being treated like a criminal the moment he returned?

"Peak Master... this must be some misunderstanding. Yeop Pung is..."

"What? You dare step forward and lecture me?"

Han Buri fixed Han Un with an imposing glare.

"Do you have any right to meddle in what I do?"

Han Buri's powerful Profound Qi crushed down on Han Un in an instant. Han Un nearly dropped to his knees.

"This disciple would never dare.... How could I?"

Han Un was instantly soaked in cold sweat. Fortunately, someone stepped forward from behind.

"Han Buri, you bastard, what kind of garbage are you spouting now! Yeop Pung belongs to our Nagun Peak! You dare lay a hand on him?"

Boom!

Maeng Chang-haeng shot forward like an arrow and planted himself in front of Yeop Pung. His tremendous Profound Qi erupted in a fierce wave and blasted the two elders backward.

The festive atmosphere that had filled the square vanished in an instant, replaced by a taut, uneasy silence. People looked back and forth between Maeng Chang-haeng and Han Buri, understanding nothing.

Han Buri regarded Maeng Chang-haeng without expression.

"Senior Brother Maeng, did I not tell the Sect Master from the very beginning? That entrusting this Hunt to you would be a regret lasting a thousand autumns! Do you see it now? Do you have any idea how much trouble you people have brought upon our sect because of this Hunt!"

Trouble? The crowd grew even more bewildered. They had taken first place in the Hunt — how could that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be a problem? Was it not a glory?

Maeng Chang-haeng grinned.

"Trouble? I know just one thing! Yeop Pung gave our Cheonun Sect back the pride you lot spent decades throwing away!"

"You fool!"

Han Buri pointed a finger at Yeop Pung.

"Useless bravado and shortsighted thinking! So what if you won the Hunt! Does pride put food on the table? Don't you know the Qi Clan is out for revenge against our Cheonun Sect over this? They're pinning the grudge for Qi Gongtian's death on us!"

"And since yesterday, every market for the beasts and profound beasts we hunt has been shut down! The sect's income is about to drop by at least a third! Can that precious pride of yours cover a loss that large? Thousands of disciples are about to be cut off from their cultivation resources — with what face will you stand before them and speak of training!"

Han Buri lashed at Maeng Chang-haeng and Yeop Pung as if with a whip.

The crowd was stunned. No one had imagined a mere hunting tournament could stir up such enormous trouble. And that was not the end of it.

Han Buri pressed on.

"Hmph. And the Military Supply Bureau! In this Hunt the Bureau lost a total of five competitors. All of them elites of the Cheonbong Legion — are you going to say that has nothing to do with us? Commander Naeng Chu's dispatch order is already in my hands. This year he intends to conscript one thousand Cheonun disciples for the war against the barbarian tribes. One thousand! Who do you think he means to send to their deaths?"

Every face in the square ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠grew paler still. No one had imagined the Hunt's outcome would cut this deep.

Never mind the lost income — the Military Supply Bureau's methods were far too insidious. The barbarian tribes were ferocious beyond measure; of every ten soldiers who went to that battlefield, barely one came back alive. This was clearly the Bureau taking out its frustration over losing the Hunt championship on the lives of Cheonun disciples.

"Well? Why aren't you saying anything?"

Han Buri glared at Maeng Chang-haeng and Yeop Pung with cold eyes, looking as if he had no idea what to do with them. Maeng Chang-haeng, of all things, still had the jet-black Black Frost Sword slung across his back, which only made Han Buri's fury climb higher.

"And this Black Frost Sword! Senior Brother Maeng, please think before you act! This is not a sword we can just bring back as we please! It is the treasured blade most cherished by Lee Mujin of the Military Supply Bureau — and you brought it to Cheonun Sect! Are you trying to bring a great calamity down upon us? Hand it over! Hand that sword over this instant!"

"And tomorrow I will personally return this sword to the Military Supply Bureau, and that Yeop Pung brat! I will take that damned boy to the Qi Clan and make him kneel and apologize!"

"Enough!"

At last Maeng Chang-haeng, who had been taking a torrent of abuse right in his face, exploded with a thunderous ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠roar. His fierce Profound Qi, laden with boundless rage, surged toward Han Buri's furious face.