Chapter 252: Daoist Yin-Yang Manual[R-18] (82)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 252: Daoist Yin-Yang Manual[R-18] (82)
The moment we left the Jinju Eon Clan, we broke into a run, using our Lightness Skill.
The sky was still blue and the forest was quiet, but our pace was relentless. Dust kicked up from our toes, branches and rocks flashed past our eyes, and the wind howled ceaselessly in our ears.
Seo Ryeo-hwa was cutting through the wind a step ahead of me.
Matching her pace, I spoke.
“Master, are you worried?”
Seo Ryeo-hwa didn’t answer for a moment. She just kept running, her eyes fixed forward. Then, after a few breaths, she spoke in a low voice.
“…I’m not sure we’ll be able to convince the Murim Alliance.”
Her tone held far more anxiety than I’d expected.
“If news of the Kunlun Sect has already spread, they’ll be boiling with rage toward the Demonic Cult. In that state, they’ll be deaf to reason.”
I took a short breath. This meant it wasn’t a problem that could be solved by simply relaying information.
“Ultimately, we’ll need proof.”
Seo Ryeo-hwa turned her head. A heavy truth was reflected in her eyes.
“Decisive proof that this was the work of the Honcheonhoe, disguised as the Demonic Cult.”
“And if we can’t provide that proof…”
“…Then, a war will break out. The Murim Alliance will launch an all-out offensive against the Demonic Cult, and the balance between the Orthodox and Demonic Factions will shatter. It means a storm of blood will rage for the first time in a hundred years.”
Honestly, I didn’t care whether the Orthodox Faction collapsed or not.
I was more worried about the many beautiful women who would die in the chaos.
After days without proper rest, we arrived at the heart of Henan.
It was a place known to everyone in the martial world: the foothills of Bongsan Mountain, where the Murim Alliance was located.
The mountain itself wasn't particularly rugged, but the surrounding area was quiet and unnaturally pristine.
It was a space filled with a strange pressure, one that prevented anyone from recklessly brandishing their martial power.
We arrived at the main gate of the Murim Alliance. The gate tower was decorated with pillars shaped like swords and spears, and the three characters for ‘Murim Alliance’ were deeply carved into the red wood.
Dozens of martial artists dispatched from various sects stood guard around the area.
Their gazes were fierce and sharp, and they all turned to us as we approached.
“Access to the Murim Alliance is currently restricted to those with prior notice.”
A gatekeeper holding a sword blocked our path.
Seo Ryeo-hwa took a token from her robes. It was a single character, ‘Sword,’ carved into a piece of dark, lustrous rosewood.
“I am the Sword Empress, Seo Ryeo-hwa. I have come with an urgent message for the Alliance Leader.”
At her words, the gatekeeper’s eyes flickered for a moment.
He quickly corrected his posture and turned around.
“I will inform the Alliance Leader. Please wait a moment.”
After nodding at the gatekeeper’s words, I stood quietly beneath the gate tower.
I took a moment to catch my breath and looked up.
The high halls and pavilions, the connected corridors, and the decorations shaped like swords and spears.
The buildings of the Murim Alliance were orderly yet majestic.
‘So this is the Murim Alliance, the center of the Orthodox Faction and the symbol of the martial world.’
It was a place mentioned countless times in the original story. But seeing it in person, my impression was blander than I’d expected.
I turned my gaze and surveyed the surroundings.
‘News of the Kunlun Sect’s annihilation must have spread… but it’s so quiet.’
The central pillar of the Orthodox Faction, a sect with a five-hundred-year history, had vanished overnight. The entire Murim Alliance should have been in an uproar.
Meetings should have been held, allies summoned, and some kind of reaction should have been underway, but it was far too peaceful.
In fact, some martial artists were drinking tea in the shade beneath a pavilion, and the sound of a lute even echoed from a quiet gazebo.
“Seo Yun-a.”
Seo Ryeo-hwa spoke to me in a low voice. It seemed she also sensed that something was off.
“It seems… far too peaceful.”
“I agree.”
The moment the Kunlun Sect was destroyed, this place should have been seething as if on the brink of war.
‘…Now I have no idea when or where the next incident will occur.’
That was the most frustrating part. When I could predict events, I could use the flow to my advantage, but not anymore.
There were too many variables now.
Variables I myself had created.
‘Hah, but what can I do? I have to interfere with the Honcheonhoe somehow before they kill all the beautiful women.’
It was a pain in the ass, but I couldn't let the beauties who would become my future cocksleeves die.
*
The grand conference hall of the Murim Alliance headquarters.
The wide, high-ceilinged hall was filled with a quiet yet heavy atmosphere, as if to boast its dignity as the center of the Orthodox martial world. The ceiling rose in an octagonal shape, and each pillar was carved with images of guardian deities and martial artists. In the very center was the Alliance Leader’s seat, draped in red silk, but it was empty.
An emergency meeting had been convened in the leader’s absence. The sect leaders of the Nine Great Sects, the family heads of the Five Great Clans, and representatives from the small and medium-sized sects belonging to the Murim Alliance were all present. However, among the dozens of Orthodox masters filling this magnificent space, an air heavier than silence flowed.
“The fact that the Demonic Cult annihilated Kunlun is no longer deniable!”
The first to speak was Yu Chang-geom, the Sect Leader of the Mount Hua Sect. Veins bulged on his forehead as he slammed his fist on the table. His eyes were filled with fury.
“Kunlun was wiped out in a single day. And without a single survivor! Is this a simple invasion? This is a massacre!”
“Sect Leader Yu.”
The Sect Leader of the Wudang Sect spoke quietly. The old master’s face was calm, but his voice held a steely resolve.
“A hasty conclusion is dangerous. I, too, had a long-standing connection with the Kunlun Sect Leader. But can we truly be certain that this is the work of the Demonic Cult?”
At his words, some of the sect representatives nodded. Then, Do Gwang-heon, the Sect Leader of the Qingsheng Sect, spoke up.
“Those who visited the site directly reported traces of demonic arts and the bodies of Demonic Cult members.”
“And what if that was all fabricated by someone?”
A sharp voice cut through the quiet hall. This time, it was Namgung Jin, the head of the Namgung Clan, who stood up. His gaze was calm as he surveyed the room and continued.
“You are all well aware of how vulnerable our Orthodox Faction is right now. At a time like this, a rash judgment could lead to war.”
“Family Head Namgung, are you suggesting… we should not go to war with the Demonic Cult?” Yu Chang-geom shot back, his voice laced with anger. But Namgung Jin shook his head and retorted.
“That’s not it. I am simply saying we must ascertain the truth before committing to an all-out war. What happened to Kunlun is certainly tragic, but can we truly conclude that it was the Demonic Cult’s doing?”
At that moment, Great Monk Hyemyeong of the Shaolin Temple, who had been sitting quietly, slowly raised his head.
“That is what I fear.”
His voice echoed weightily through the hall.
“If we draw our swords against the Demonic Cult here and now, a battle will begin that cannot be undone. And the end of that war is something no one in this room can guarantee.”
A heavy silence fell over the hall.
Then, the leader of the Beggars’ Sect shot to his feet. His shout shattered the silence of the other elders.
“But silence alone will solve nothing!”
He clenched his fist and raised his voice.
“If we don’t act now, we’ll be picked off one by one. Today it was Kunlun, tomorrow it could be the Tang Clan, and the day after, the Beggars’ Sect. This isn’t just an attack… it’s a declaration of war.”
“If we move rashly… do you think the Saheukryeon will stand idly by?”
It was the old master of the Cheongpung Sect. He let out a long sigh and continued.
“If we engage in an all-out war with the Demonic Cult, the Saheukryeon will use that opportunity to seize control of the south. It’s highly likely they’ll strike while we are weakened.”
“So… are you saying we should just let them attack us?”
An angry voice erupted. The assembly was once again engulfed in fiercely conflicting arguments.
Some shouted, “Now is the time to enact justice,” while others shook their heads, saying, “We cannot face a war while divided.”
Each of them presented a reasonable argument, but the truth was far more complex.
Jegal Mu quietly clenched his fist.
‘They’re blinded by their own interests and safety.’
Here, at the heart of the Murim Alliance, the representatives of each clan and sect were acting for their own gain. The sects closest to the Saheukryeon were concerned for their own safety. Those with long-held grudges against the Demonic Cult were pushing for war….
“When in the world is the Alliance Leader arriving?”
All eyes turned to the empty seat. The seat of the Murim Alliance Leader.
“The Alliance Leader has not yet arrived. This meeting will be made official as soon as he returns.”
A brief murmur went through the hall at Jegal Mu’s words.
And at that moment, a heavy presence flowed into the room. It was a pressure like a finely honed sword being driven into the ground.
Tap, tap.
A single sound silenced all noise. No one spoke, but everyone felt it.
‘He’s here…’
The one who entered the hall was an old man with white hair. He wore a simple gray robe with an ancient sword at his waist. His steps were slow, but heavy.
He was the leader of the Murim Alliance. The Sword God, Dokgo Cheon.
The head of the Dokgo Clan, one of the Five Great Clans, and an old swordsman whose blade no one had ever dared to challenge. As he slowly walked into the hall, the members of the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Clans fell silent, holding their breath.
“So, you have all gathered.”
The Alliance Leader’s voice was like a still lake. Calm, yet firm. A single reverberation suppressed the commotion in the hall.
The first to rise and greet him was Great Monk Hyemyeong of Shaolin.
“Alliance Leader… has something happened? The entire martial world is in turmoil, and we had lost contact with you for so long…”
“Calm yourself, Great Monk Hyemyeong,” Dokgo Cheon said firmly.
“I am on my way back from the Kunlun Sect.”
With that one sentence, the atmosphere in the hall changed.
“…The Kunlun Sect, you say?”
“That is right. I saw the site with my own eyes. The collapsed sect, the burned buildings, the blood-stained residence of the sect leader. I confirmed it all myself.”
He stood in the center of the great hall. No one dared to avoid his gaze.
“I can state with certainty that Kunlun was not destroyed by the hands of the Demonic Cult.”
Murmur—
Noise erupted in the hall again, and someone shot up from their seat.
“What… what do you mean! The bodies and traces of the Demonic Cult were clearly at the scene—!”
“They were fabricated,” the Alliance Leader said calmly.
“The traces of demonic arts I saw were artificial, and the symbols carved on the bodies were added on afterward.”
“But that alone is not enough proof!” shouted an elder from a sect in Qinghai.
Dokgo Cheon slowly swept his gaze over the assembly.
“Right now, I have a suspicion. A suspicion that behind this chaos… there may be a true enemy.”
“Alliance Leader, this true enemy…?”
“These two will explain it.”