What Happens Behind the Scenes
Jangson looked down at his own groin—and a surprise kick sent him flying, blood and broken teeth spraying from his nose and mouth.
The imperial clan members and officials stared in horror at the shameless attack that ground the codes of the Jianghu into the mud. Yet one person among them slowly curled the corner of his mouth into a smile, even as an imperial commander went down to such a cowardly blow right before his eyes.
"Heh. Heh heh."
A low laugh slipped from his lips. The Son of Heaven of the Central Plains tapped his jade cup with a fingertip, looking thoroughly amused.
An elderly eunuch found the sight so strange that he tilted his head slightly and ventured a careful question.
"Your Majesty, if it is not too bold of me… what finds you so entertained?"
The old man had served this emperor since childhood; he knew better than anyone how rare such playfulness was. Born under the Emperor Star that crowned him master of all things, His Majesty had ruled the Central Plains with nothing but strict severity until now.
"The longer I look at him, the more he reminds me of a certain old beggar."
Emperor Hongrak kept his eyes fixed on the man called Mudong, stroking his beard without bothering to hide his interest.
Grand Eunuch Yu Unbaek, his hair gone white, narrowed his eyes as if someone had just come to mind.
"Your Majesty… by 'old beggar,' you mean—surely not that beggar who played go with you?"
"Yes. That beggar."
One day the emperor had brought home a "go friend," and the man of unknown origin had stayed in the Imperial Palace for quite some time. When they later dug into his movements and background, he had turned out to be a Dragon-Head Chief of the Beggar Sect.
He had been found sleeping on the roof of the Qianqing Palace where the emperor resided, and he had looted the palace food stores—odd little stunts that had driven every palace servant half mad.
"He said he meant to sever his ties with the secular world, and that he had no intention of taking a successor."
Recalling the old beggar's words, Emperor Hongrak smirked and lifted one corner of his mouth. The way that man stuffed duck legs into his face even in front of the Imperial Consort… the way he threw the first punch the moment things turned against him, dignity be damned…
"The spitting image."
A strange satisfaction colored Emperor Hongrak's voice. He almost wanted to know where the old man had found a successor like that. So that was why the beggar had lingered in the capital even after that affair—this fellow must have been the chain that dragged him back into the world.
The emperor suddenly remembered the Beggar Sect expulsion order in Beijing and gave a bitter smile. If he had known it would come to this, he need never have driven them out.
"Aaaaargh! How dare you—my little brother! I'll kill you!"
Watching his own blood kin Jangson get wrecked so thoroughly, Commander of Ten Thousand Jangsak lost his reason and charged. Fist Gang Qi exploded from both of his fists. Blows powerful enough to split the sparring grounds hammered down, and the lapis-lazuli floor began to crack and shatter in half.
"Damn it! Harang, do something!"
The man called Mudong slipped the attacks like an eel, shouting for help as he dodged every which way.
"Hey! The one who made the mess should clean it up! Don't come this way!"
The wandering martial artist who had been posing as a palace maid swung her greatsaber wildly and screamed in pure panic.
Far from any refined duel between masters, the martial arts tournament had become a living hell. While everyone else stood dumbfounded by the ridiculous farce, one person alone raised his cup with a faint smile.
"This wine tastes excellent."
Only the Son of Heaven watched the chaos with a smile on his face.
While the uproar raged at the sparring grounds, another movement was underway behind the stage.
Unseen by any eye, a woman's silhouette melted into the shadows and descended the pavilion eaves with silent footsteps.
Creak—
A tool no bigger than a fingernail popped the lock, and the doors of the Heavenly Treasury Pavilion—said to hold the imperial family's treasures all in one place—opened with a soft whisper.
The warehouse keepers who had been guarding the place had long since collapsed, unknowingly breathing in the Dream Soul Drug she had been funneling in from outside for quite some time.
"That was almost too easy."
She snorted as she slipped past the unconscious guards. It was a Divine Thief specialty Dream Soul Drug, laced with the effects of Internal Energy Scattering Poison. Even if they had noticed the toxin and tried to circulate their energy, it would already have been too late. When they woke after sleeping a day or so, they would find the pavilion thoroughly cleaned out of everything that mattered.
"Aaaaargh! I'll kill you bastards—!"
From far off at the sparring grounds, an imperial commander's howl echoed. The fighting was so brutal that the residual shock of Fist Gang Qi traveled through the earth itself.
Ordinarily she would have struggled to punch through the heavy security here—but with every eye glued to the brawl the tournament had become, a perfect opportunity had fallen into her lap.
"Dan Mujin. So even that guy has his useful days, huh?"
Yang Yang grinned to herself, tucked her antidote vial deeper into her robes, and stepped inside.
The interior of the Heavenly Treasury Pavilion—called the imperial treasure store—exceeded even her expectations.
"Oh my."
A soft gasp slipped between her red lips. Gold and silver treasures glittered in golden light, stacked shelf upon shelf. Rare offerings from every corner of the empire had been gathered here, flaunting the majesty of a realm that had conquered the entire Central Plains.
"Really… what am I going to do with myself. Ohoho."
There was no helping the way the corners of Yang Yang's mouth twitched as if they meant to float off her face. There was only so much she could hide on her person, so she lingered over the delightful problem of what to take.
"Whoops. Get a grip. Can't let the gold blind me and lose the original target. Find that first. Right, right."
Yang Yang slapped her own cheek and began combing the imperial treasure store from top to bottom. She drifted this way and that, idly rummaging through the endless piles—until she stopped dead at a particularly ornate chest sitting alone in one corner of the building.
"Hm? What's this?"
She had already walked into a vault full of precious things, yet here was a chest dressed up even more lavishly, as if something rarer still lay inside. Chests like that were made to hold treasures of the highest value.
Curiosity surging, Yang Yang approached the massive chest.
"Ah. This must be the treasure of Emperor Hongrak the warehouse keepers were talking about."
The emperor's own treasure, prepared as gifts for his wives at this banquet meant to strengthen their bonds. What on earth was inside? Even the warehouse keepers hadn't known.
Any gift or tribute entering the palace or offered to the emperor always passed through the rigorous inspection of the Eastern Depot and the Embroidered Uniform Guard. But who would dare lay a hand on a secret gift the Son of Heaven had prepared himself for his own wives? Opening the chest to check its contents would have been a capital offense of lèse-majesté.
"But I'm not a member of the imperial family, am I?"
Smirking, Yang Yang flung the chest open with gusto.
Expecting a dazzling five-colored blaze of gold and jewels, she peered inside—and her face went blank with confusion.
"What… is this?"
Inside the chest that was supposed to be gifted to the Empress, Imperial Consort Ma, and Consort Yang, there was not a single piece of treasure. Only heavy, pitch-black iron spheres, stacked layer upon layer.
Long fuses dangled from them, and they reeked of black powder—ominous iron spheres indeed.
"Don't tell me these are…!"
They were unmistakably thunder bombs. And not ordinary ones—fitted with intricate mechanisms so they would detonate at a chosen time.
Yang Yang went pale as she realized she had stumbled into something far beyond her. This was the scene of an imperial conspiracy she should never have set foot in.
A cold sweat ran down her pale forehead as she spun to get out of there at once—
"You little rat. You've seen something you weren't meant to see."
A cold, decisive voice flowed from behind her back.
Yang Yang kicked off the ground in pure terror, but the owner of the voice unleashed a sharp surge of martial power as well.
"…Die!"
In the blink of an eye, the imperial sparring grounds had turned into pure chaos.
"You son of a bitch! My little brother…!"
Right in front of us, Commander of Ten Thousand Jangsak roared, thick killing intent rolling off him in waves. The whole area was already a wreck thanks to the Fist Gang Qi he had been swinging around. The floor was cracked wide open, and the surrounding fixtures had been smashed into ugly ruins.
The spectators who had crowded close for a better view of a duel between masters had long since scrambled back to a safer distance.
This was no longer anything you could call a spar. It was a life-or-death fight with both sides staking their lives. The pressure was so savage that no one dared try to stop it easily—and more than that, with the emperor watching calmly from his seat, no one was about to step forward first.
"He was your little brother? So it really was family looking out for family after all."
I had known it from the moment they called Jangson in right when victory was within reach, as if the chance had been waiting. Of course, that little brother who had been scheduled to stamp his name into every high-ranking eye present was currently lying at the edge of the sparring grounds after taking a cheap shot from me.
"I'll kill you—!"
Whether he had heard my mockery or not, Jangsak howled and drove both fists forward.
A tidal wave of Fist Gang Qi crashed down upon us. The sparring grounds shuddered, and dust exploded upward like a blast.
KWA-DU-DU-DUK!
That brutish assault tore through every direction like a shotgun blast; we didn't even have room to dodge and had to stand our ground and block. My blade and Jo Harang's saber flashed without pause, cutting and redirecting the enemy's strikes.
"Mujin… no—Mudong! This isn't going to end like this!"
We had already built plenty of experience fighting a Transcendent Realm master of the Blood Cult in concert—but this was still an official tournament. Step outside the sparring grounds and you were disqualified. Jo Harang shouted through rough, ragged breaths, as if begging me to do something.
"I'll tear you… to shreds! Heaven-Piercing Mystic Fist!"
Blue energy flared even more fiercely in Jangsak's hands.
The strike ripped through the air. Then the Sixth Form followed hard on its heels.
The fist split the floor with a crack and came hammering down.
"This is fucking ridiculous!"
His killing intent burned so hot that the red trajectories were easy enough to read. Using that, I twisted my body like an eel and slipped the Fist Gang Qi—but Jo Harang looked hard-pressed, stuck defending in place with her greatsaber wrapped in Saber Gang Qi.
"Mudong, we're going to lose like this…! Kh—!"
The monstrous force packed into the Fist Gang Qi shoved her back and back. Blood ran from the corner of her mouth as she cried out; she had taken internal injuries.
"Diiie!"
Thinking he had his chance, Jangsak stomped a true step and charged in with his whole body.
KWAANG!
Stone shards flew. Blue energy detonated from his fingertips and tore us apart to either side with vicious force.
"I'll finish you first!"
Meaning to end it completely, he went for the bleeding Jo Harang first.
"You cowardly bastard!"
I shouted that going after a woman first ought to shame him, but it didn't land at all—he had already lost his reason. Fine. Then I'd give him his reason back. Since I'd been shoved out to the edge anyway, I grabbed one of the guys lying unconscious nearby and hauled him up.
"Jangsak! Look over here!"
What I held in my hand was none other than his so-called little brother, Jangson. In short: a hostage play. I flashed a grin, clutching the collar of the man whose eyes had rolled back in his head.
"Y-you cowardly sons of bitches…!"
This time it was Jangsak who screamed about cowardice, his face turning a furious shade of red.
KWA-DU-DU-DUK!
Dust rose over the half-wrecked sparring grounds, now a pure slaughterhouse. Not a scrap of the imperial martial tournament's dignity remained.
The spectator stands had frozen into a cycle of silence and shock, and in the middle of that chaos the imperial family members on the raised platform looked down on the fight with expressions all their own.
Among them, Imperial Consort Ma had already set aside the wine she had been drinking. She stared blankly and asked Cheon Su-gong beside her,
"Director Cheon. That man—what exactly did he do outside the palace?"
His martial skill was one thing, but that vicious mindset that would use any means necessary to get what he wanted…
At the Imperial Consort's question, Cheon Su-gong—who had recommended the man—wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead and answered with forced calm.
"As I… as I reported, he is a troubleshooter from Beijing."
The Imperial Consort's brows lifted slightly at his answer.
A troubleshooter from Beijing. She had already guessed he was capable after hearing he had saved her daughter—but martial arts that could stand against a Transcendent Realm fighter, and a man who had even drawn His Majesty's interest?
Imperial Consort Ma felt certain there was more to the story hidden behind him.