One Roof, Two Heads - 2
The moment I learned that Jeom-cheongpa was a hopeless disaster of a sect, a reply from Nang-jung Wang came flying in. The beast in human form said he'd send his own people to handle the relocation, so I should feel free to move on to my next assignment.
'Fuck.'
From Nang-jung Wang's perspective, it was thoughtful consideration, but it didn't exactly fill me with joy. If this had arrived yesterday, I would've left Baek-su-mun in high spirits—but that was before knowing my next stop, Jeom-cheongpa, was a total shitshow. Now that I'd uncovered its true nature, leaving Baek-su-mun suddenly felt terrifying.
'Should I just stay here?'
Things had gotten so bad I was even thinking that. Baek-su-mun's elders and disciples were obsessed with the abyss beasts, sure, but that was the only real issue—the sect itself wasn't rotten to the core. Even their beast-loving hearts were just overly passionate, not malicious. But Jeom-cheongpa? It was home to the descendants of two families nursing ancient grudges, coexisting under one roof alongside different faiths. Approaching with half-hearted resolve meant I'd likely shoulder their problems alone.
'...I have to go.'
Still, the reason I roamed the provinces was to foster cooperative sects for the court. Incidents kept popping up everywhere, making my vague goal feel distant, but that was the plan. And a guy with that mission skipping a fledgling sect—one guaranteed to explode if left alone? Word would reach the capital for sure, and I'd get slapped with even worse disciplinary busywork for deliberately ignoring it. That wouldn't do.
So, off to Jeom-cheongpa I went. Dealing with civilian sects spiking my blood pressure was annoying, but court discipline was a bigger headache.
'If push comes to shove, I'll suppress them with cannons.'
If Jeom-cheongpa had crossed into irredeemable territory, better to smash it and rebuild. With that mindset, I'd tackle this job.
Unlike Baek-su-mun in southern Yunnam, Jeom-cheongpa made its home in central Yunnam at Jeom-cheongsan. Though given the sect's state, "battlefield" might be more accurate than "home."
'Heard it's a famous mountain, but it's probably a mess now.'
Jeom-cheongsan had been renowned since the Dali Kingdom days. So naturally, the descendants of the two families that dominated Dali were stubbornly clinging to it, pulling a "if you hate it, you leave."
I half-wanted to flex my Inspector General authority and relocate the damn mountain. But pointless civil engineering only burdened the people. If I couldn't erase the disputed zone of Jeom-cheongsan, I'd at least prevent conflicts there.
'Sa-il Sword Technique.' I organized my thoughts while reading the scroll from Ji Wi-pyeong.
The reason a sect torn by infighting lorded over Yunnam as its premier power? Their martial art was exceptional enough to offset the chaos.
Sa-il Sword Technique—Shoot the Sun Sword Technique. True to its audacious name, it boasted terrifying speed. Jeom-cheongpa disciples descending from Jeom-cheongsan could skewer bandits and beasts rampaging through Yunnam in an instant. Internal issues aside, the sect's raw power was undeniable.
'And that's the problem.'
Yet instinct told me this Sa-il Sword Technique was both Jeom-cheongpa's pillar and the spark of their strife. Too advanced for a new sect, and something every squabbling disciple shared? Anyone could see the issue. I'd need to investigate, but it was obvious Sa-il—or something tied to it—fueled their bickering.
'Maybe even the sect leader's at fault.'
…Jeom-cheongpa's sect leader belongs to neither the Dan nor Go clans—a neutral force. That's also why the split sect holds together as one.
I checked the note at the scroll's end, then tucked it back into my robes. No matter how fallen, ruling a sect amid the heirs of Dali's premier houses wasn't easy. He might be a figurehead, but if so, Jeom-cheongpa would've collapsed long ago. The sect leader was another wildcard on par with Sa-il. And as leader, he'd know it inside out. First order on arrival: a private audience.
Another tedious, godforsaken day dawned.
"Sect Leader! We must get a firm answer today!"
"We can't delay any longer! The Sa-il Sword Technique belongs not just to us but to the Central Plains murim—a great fortune! Ignoring it is a grave sin!"
I sipped my tea quietly amid the racket outside. Grave sin, my ass. Did they think screaming bloody murder at someone's door first thing was normal?
'Shouldn't have let them in.'
Regret always comes too late to matter. Yet here I was, regretting again. Dan Ju-pyeong, left elder, and Go Bin, right elder—the true culprits behind founding Jeom-cheongpa and turning peaceful Jeom-cheongsan into a madhouse.
'Should've ignored them to the end.'
I drained my cup in a gulp and sighed. Originally, this mountain housed a handful of Taoist priests and monks seeking enlightenment, living in harmony without forming a formal sect. They simply called themselves Jeom-cheongsan Taoists or Jeom-cheongsan monks.
Then those two bastards—no, idiots... anyway, those mongrels showed up.
"We pay respects to the successor of Ye's legacy!"
"We pay respects to the inheritor of Sa-il!"
Should've seen it then. Not even their greetings matched; each spouted their own crap. Like water and oil, they refused to mix—utter lunatics.
"Haha, this poor Daoist merely clings to nature, scraping by day to day. How can you bestow such grand titles?"
But back then, immersed in cultivation, I'd tried embracing even madmen. Mistake. Mingling with them shattered years of training and peace in an instant.
"No, great one! Even this lowly one knows of your feat—carrying on Ye's lineage to create a new sword art!"
"Indeed! You're the only warrior under heaven who can shoot down the sun!"
"Great one? The true respect belongs to you two."
Heirs to the Dan and Go clans that ruled Yunnam. A mere priest like me didn't deserve "great one"—they did. But no. Somehow, they'd sniffed out my fortune on Jeom-cheongsan: discovering the legendary archery of Ye, who shot down the sun.
'Nang-jung's top advisor—bound to leak eventually.'
I rubbed my stiff nape and clicked my tongue. I'd adapted Ye's archery for my body, turning it into the sword art Sa-il since sword suited me better. With it, I punished bandits and beasts tormenting the people.
That's how they found out, but I don't regret it. Turning a blind eye for my own convenience? What kind of Daoist would that make me? Though if I'd known the hassle, I might've fled Yunnam entirely.
"Your great deeds must be spread far and wide!"
"Yunnam is the edge of the edge! His Majesty's grace blankets the realm, but we should handle these backwater squabbles for the greater good!"
Then I wouldn't have let those two pierce my nose and drag me into founding Jeom-cheongpa. I get the rationale: share superior arts with the worthy, who then serve the people. Mine was a fluke anyway—why hoard it? But realizing Dan Ju-pyeong and Go Bin's rivalry, I held back.
'Hand it all over, and they'd plunge into civil war.'
For now, my control over key info kept quarrels from turning violent. They growled but stayed within Jeom-cheongpa's fence. Spill blood or bolt, and no Sa-il for them.
So I'd hide it till the end. Sa-il shines strongest in the sun's shadow. Concealment truly served Yunnam and the people.
The sect leader stayed silent today too. Headache. Go and I founded Jeom-cheongpa in practice, but it only held together because of him. Without his dignity and Sa-il Sword Technique, it was meaningless rabble.
No choice if he wouldn't yield. Couldn't bully the sect leader.
'Need the full transmission.'
I shot a glare at Go beside me and bit my lip. Legends of Ye's legacy on Jeom-cheongsan spanned centuries. Our Dan clan never reached it while ruling Dali, but we believed it real. Then Dali fell before we could. Post-Daesong founding, we lost Yunnam influence—no resources left.
Then rumors of a priest wielding unheard-of speed swordplay. Instant realization: he'd found it.
'Go thinking the same's the issue.'
Regrettably, what Dan knew, Go knew too. They'd ruled Yunnam's peak. Now we shared mountain and sect. If I quit and Go got full Sa-il? Catastrophe. Couldn't let Go—or Go clan—revive on it.
'No clinging to power now.'
Dan's fall was the era's flow. If we craved rule, take exams fair and square. But we had no such thirst—yet couldn't stomach Go's rise. Absolutely not.
'He's thinking the same.'
Go was probably hunkering down to block Dan revival. I'd bet my right arm on it.