The Secret Manual of Martial Arts
"Who the hell starts a fight in somebody's front yard?"
The moment the voice drifted out of the darkness, Ak Hwan's fear evaporated in an instant.
He turned his head toward the shadows.
Gasp—!
At the same time, he swallowed the breath caught in his throat and scrambled to his feet.
The figure striding out of the darkness toward the lantern light was none other than the Alliance Leader of the Murim Alliance. Having entered the Alliance himself, Ak Hwan had seen the man three or four times since, so there was no mistaking that face.
"M-Master Alliance Leader! It is an honor."
He was so tense that even his voice stumbled. But how on earth had the Alliance Leader found his way here? Could it be that he, too, had heard rumors of the extraordinary cooking at this place?
"Master Alliance Leader, welcome."
Yang Jeong, who had just finished his own meal, rose from his seat and bowed politely.
"How did you know to come?" Dokgo Yeop greeted the Alliance Leader with an utterly indifferent tone.
"How did I know? How else? I heard the cooking here was excellent, so I came for a meal."
The Alliance Leader settled into the seat across from Dokgo Yeop.
"Prepare the same for me. And bring a cup of wine first."
Once the order was taken, Jiang Zhou handed over a cup and hurried off to prepare the food. Plenty of customers today. Whether they were troublesome or not, a full house was nothing to complain about.
"C-could I have another bowl of Pork Noodles?" Ak Hwan called out his order in a thoroughly strangled voice.
Watching him, the Alliance Leader spoke up. "You must be Ak Hwan of the Shandong Ak Clan. I hear you've joined the Crouching Dragon Society."
At the question, Ak Hwan bolted upright once more. "Th-that is correct, Master Alliance Leader! And it's all thanks to you."
"Haha. How would any of that be my doing? It's the fruit of your own hard work."
Baek Mun-do received the flattery with obvious good humor. Dokgo Yeop, however, did not care for the sight at all.
Hmph.
"However fine the Murim Alliance's prodigies may be, they're all cut from the same cloth."
Baek Mun-do was not one to let a fight walk up to his door unanswered. "However impressive the Demonic Cult may fancy itself, it's no match for the Murim Alliance."
Khk—!
Ak Hwan, mid-bite of seasoned wild greens, nearly choked, and spat the greens straight back out. Th-the Demonic Cult? Then that handsome man is... from the Demonic Cult? How could a man of the Demonic Cult be sitting side by side with the Alliance Leader, eating—
The Murim Alliance and the Demonic Cult were not on good terms. Worse than not on good terms—they were enemies, plain and simple.
Baek Mun-do glanced back at Ak Hwan's stricken face. "Everything you see and hear in this place, you will forget. Do you understand?"
"Y-yes, Master Alliance Leader."
Ak Hwan simply bowed his head. It seemed the great men were exchanging something of importance between themselves, and it was far beyond his station to pry.
Glug, glug...
Dokgo Yeop filled both his own cup and Baek Mun-do's, and the two of them drained them almost in unison. Kuhh... In the same breath, both men wrinkled their brows, lifted their chopsticks, and reached for the seasoned wild greens.
After tasting that Elixir Wine, no other liquor will do.
So this wretch came hunting for the medicinal wine too...
Their eyes met over the mouthfuls of wild greens.
Ahem.
Hmph.
Baek Mun-do coughed dryly, and Dokgo Yeop let out a scornful snort. Each saw straight through the other's schemes, clear as glass.
"Judging by that face, nothing came of your visit."
"Judging by the fact that you've come here at all, nothing's gone catastrophically wrong in the Demonic Cult either."
"That's a fine thing for a man who covets another man's wife to say."
The jab struck a raw nerve, and Baek Mun-do flinched hard. "What nonsense are you spouting, Dokgo Yeop? When have I ever coveted a married wom—"
Khk—!
The moment he roared, Ak Hwan spat out the greens he'd been chewing yet again. He hadn't heard a word about anyone's wife. What had drilled into his ears was a name steeped in terror—Dokgo Yeop.
Damn it all. Th-that handsome man is the... the Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult.
It was the kind of news that could turn the Murim Alliance upside down on the spot. If word spread that the Demonic Cult's leader had appeared here, countless warriors would come pouring out of the gates at once.
Yang Jeong clearly knew the name as well, for he bolted into the kitchen. "Boss! The man sitting in front of the Alliance Leader is the Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult."
"So what?"
Jiang Zhou wasn't surprised. When he'd learned that the man who had visited late at night was the Alliance Leader of the Murim Alliance, he had already half-guessed the other one's identity.
"Why aren't you surprised, Boss?"
"Why would I be?"
Baek Mun-do and Dokgo Yeop, who had been glaring daggers at each other, both turned their gaze toward the kitchen. They had heard the exchange too.
I sensed it before, but the boy's got gall to spare.
A born prodigy. Had he come out into the world sooner, he'd have grown into a master of tremendous caliber.
Both men silently marveled. There were precious few in all the jianghu who could keep such composure upon hearing their names.
"Eat up."
Jiang Zhou set the Pork Noodles down before them. The two men started moving their chopsticks as though the meal were some kind of contest.
Slurp... slurp...
Slurp...
Ak Hwan, bowl in hand, was shoveling noodles into his mouth in a daze as well. Any other time, he would have savored every bite slowly—but right now he couldn't taste a thing. This was not a place where someone like him belonged. He emptied his bowl clean, laid two silver taels on the table, and rose.
"Th-thank you for the meal, Young Hero Jiang. I'll take my leave now, Master Alliance Leader."
With his bow complete, he fled the inn as if running for his life. Baek Mun-do and Dokgo Yeop spared him not so much as a glance.
"There's no other liquor?" Dokgo Yeop asked, having drained the bottle dry.
"There is."
Before Jiang Zhou had even finished answering, Dokgo Yeop's glare swung to Baek Mun-do. "This round, you pay."
But Baek Mun-do was glaring at Jiang Zhou. "You told me last time there was no medicinal wine left."
Before Jiang Zhou could get a word in, Dokgo Yeop let his fury loose. "You meant to hoard the Elixir Wine all for yourself, did you?"
Baek Mun-do sneered and passed the fury right back. "The inn happens to sit in the Murim Alliance's front yard. What exactly would you have me do about it?"
Dokgo Yeop shot Jiang Zhou a look cold enough to freeze marrow. "Have you any thought of relocating to Demonic Cult lands? I'll grant you the ground and build you an inn myself."
For a moment, the offer genuinely swayed Jiang Zhou's heart. The plot here truly wasn't good land. But he shook his head almost immediately. If the Cult Leader was that fierce, the Demonic Cult's warriors were bound to be every bit as terrifying.
"I'll stay right where I am."
WAHAHAHA—!
At that answer, Dokgo Yeop's face twisted out of all shape, while Baek Mun-do pounded the table, laughing himself over. "An excellent choice. The Murim Alliance is far better than the Demonic Cult. Yes, indeed, exactly so."
When his laughter died down, Baek Mun-do drew a single book from his robes and set it on the table. "Take this, and bring out that wine. This manual is worth more than a whole stack of martial treatises in the jianghu. The commentary is already done, so mastering it will be no great struggle."
On the cover, the characters were faintly inscribed: Moonlight Sword Manual.
Dokgo Yeop, who recognized the manual at a glance, was quietly stunned. So this wretch means to take that boy as his disciple, does he? The Moonlight Sword Manual was no ordinary sword art. Anyone who brought that technique to its pinnacle would become a master renowned throughout the jianghu.
Hmph.
He hid his thoughts behind a cold laugh. "Just how broke is the Murim Alliance, that you'd hand over a martial secret of this caliber to settle a wine tab?"
Jiang Zhou was every bit as indifferent to the manual. He had ground himself half to death practicing martial arts under his master for all these years—taking up a whole new discipline now would be nothing short of agony.
"I have no interest in secret manuals."
Yang Jeong, however, had plenty. "Boss! Give that manual to me, please!"
In the martial families of the jianghu, there was a thing called inherited family arts. A clan whose inherited arts were strong could rise into a great house; a clan whose arts were weak had to live forever watching the great houses' moods. He intended to bring this manual home to his family.
The moment Yang Jeong snatched the manual up, Dokgo Yeop scowled at him with open displeasure. But soon, something unusual sparked in those eyes. Looking at him now—extraordinarily handsome. You'd scour the jianghu and struggle to find a face like that.
"What is your name, boy?"
Yang Jeong couldn't answer. He just shuffled his feet. Bold as he was, the frost in the Demonic Cult Leader's gaze was hard to endure.
It was Jiang Zhou who spoke first. "He's my little brother. His name is Samryong."
"N-no it isn't... My name is Yang Jeong."
Yang Jeong belatedly corrected his own name. Like master, like brother, apparently—the boy's got spine to burn. Dokgo Yeop drew the killing intent back from his eyes. The elder brother, the inn's owner, seemed to have gall spilling out past his belly, and the younger one was every bit as bold.
"The wine is on me."
Tucking the manual into his robes, Yang Jeong darted into the kitchen.
Baek Mun-do and Dokgo Yeop hurriedly emptied their cups. Kuhh...Kuhh... The instant the liquor went down, the fragrance of medicinal herbs curled across their tongues, followed by a sharp, stinging bite.
The aroma seems a touch stronger than last time...?
Was what we drank before really the same wine?
Both men puzzled over it inwardly, but the doubt soon dissolved. They'd been quite drunk that first night—the aroma and taste must simply have been dulled.
As though in a race, they filled their cups and drained them again and again. The cooking here was the finest under heaven, but what mattered now was not the food—it was this wine, the stuff that would transform them into beasts.
After some fourteen cups, the bottom of the bottle finally showed. Only then did the two men reach their chopsticks into the bowls of Pork Noodles.
Slurp...
Slurp...
The pair devoured the noodles like men starved, shot to their feet, and rose. "Then I'll see you next time."
"Don't come often."
Without so much as deciding who should go first, Baek Mun-do and Dokgo Yeop crossed the Stone Bridge together. When they had vanished from sight, Yang Jeong drew the manual from his robes.
"Boss! This sword art is actually pretty impressive, isn't it?"
He examined the manual with deep satisfaction. A sword art of this caliber would surely delight his father.
"Let me see it."
Jiang Zhou took the manual and studied it as well. Just as Yang Jeong had said, it was genuinely solid. It couldn't compare to the sword art he'd learned from his master, but it was a technique with real edge and ferocity of its own.
"Boss, I'll need to go home tomorrow."
"Make it quick. The stable needs fixing."
"Understood, Boss. I'll be back within ten days."
Once he left the inn, Dokgo Yeop unfurled his lightness skill at lightning speed. Whoooosh— The darkness twenty paces ahead rushed up to meet him in a blink, only to fall away twenty paces behind.
Soon the power would erupt through him, and he would become a beast. Before that happened, he had to get as close to the Demonic Cult as he could. If only that inn stood before the gates of the Demonic Cult, I'd be spared all this torment. Even as he tore through the night, he couldn't shake the regret.
How a wine like that could exist in this world, he didn't know. But it existed in that inn, and the world had to remain ignorant of the fact. If word ever spread, warriors from every corner of the jianghu would come swarming down on the place. Baek Mun-do is cunning to the bone—he won't spread any rumors. For now, it seemed only the two of them knew the truth. Next time, I'll send one of my daughters or sons to that place.
While Dokgo Yeop raced for the Demonic Cult, Baek Mun-do was making his way to his wife's chambers. "My dear. It's me."
His wife greeted him with a flush already blooming across her cheeks. "Welcome home."
A young female warrior walked toward the Murim Alliance. As the Alliance Leader's second disciple, she was returning to headquarters for the first time in two years. For those two years, her life at her family home had consisted of one thing and one thing only: martial training.
The greatest female warrior under heaven.
That was her goal, and for its sake she had refused every matchmaker who came knocking at her family's gate. Senior Brother must have grown even stronger than he was two years ago. To her, Baek Won-young was an insurmountable wall—but one day, she would climb over it. She was certain of that.
As she walked, her gaze drifted toward the forest. Down by the stream at the forest's edge, a handsome young man was carrying out bowls and washing dishes in earnest. Spotting the pale-white flag, she shook her head. Looks like an inn's opened up—but they've picked a terrible spot.
That forest sat squarely on the road leading to the Murim Alliance. If anyone with ill intent ever meant to strike at the Alliance, they would without a doubt hide themselves in those very woods.
Just then her eyes met those of the dishwashing man, and she quickly looked away.