Renouncing the Heir's Seat
The central pavilion of the Golden Gate.
The towering seven-story pagoda offered a breathtaking view of the beautiful secret realm at a glance.
Of course, that secret realm included the annex where Zien was staying.
"So, he's holed up in the annex now?"
At Hwang Yusung's words, the masked man bowed deeply in response.
"Yes. He's there with the bodyguard."
"Tch! I gave you one last chance, and you still screwed it up, making things messy for me."
As Hwang Yusung berated him, the masked man hung his head low.
"I'm sorry. That wench by his side was such a monster..."
"This is the mighty Golden Gate! And I'm the next sect leader!"
Hwang Yusung stomped hard on the man's foot.
"What excuses do the dogs who wipe my ass have? A wench...? Ptui!"
In his rage, Hwang Yusung spat right in the face of the man who towered a head above him.
The phlegm slid down the mask and dripped to the ground.
"I have no face to show."
"Shut up! I don't want to hear it. Because of your screw-up, I have to go grovel to that bitch's son. Great, just great. If you're dogs, act like it."
Still, Hwang Yusung could endure this level of humiliation for now.
The Golden Gate—the sect that controlled the lifeblood of all wealth in the martial world—would soon be in his hands.
Of course, the thought of it falling into someone else's grasp was revolting, but he could bear it.
"At least we avoided the worst. Giving up the heir position? Even that fool finally knew his place in the end." Hwang Yusung didn't even consider the possibility of losing to Hwang Sancheol. But for the greater good—and just in case—he planned to head to the annex today.
"Keep a close eye on whether Sancheol heads to the annex. Report back immediately if anything happens. Got it?"
"Yes."
Who but the emperor of the imperial palace could host such a feast? The grandest banquet by the greatest merchant guild. Food piled like mountains, dancers in multicolored silk swirling gracefully.
Dong— tang tang tang— da—
The musicians plucked ancient strings and sang praises to the Golden Gate. The banquet hall seemed transformed into a place of pure opulence. A sect that wielded gold instead of swords—its leader, Hwang Chung, was thus called the Golden Sword.
"My second son, this banquet celebrates your return, but it carries another meaning as well."
Hwang Chung exuded an immense presence.
It wasn't physical intimidation from strength or mana. It was the aura emanating from the man himself—his inner force, his pressure.
"Yes. I believe it's to lay the foundation for choosing the successor."
But to Zien, who had faced demonic beasts and sword gods in the third zone's gates, it was nothing.
"Exactly. We spent a fortune on this feast for your homecoming. This scale is no ordinary affair. Everyone here will know: even after nearly becoming a cripple, you still qualify as my heir." Hwang Yusung and Hwang Sancheol's gazes locked onto Zien.
The family elders standing behind them did the same.
Amid stares of wariness and surprise, Zien spoke slowly.
"The sect leader is the head of the sect, a father to all."
"Yes. You're right."
Hwang Chung laughed heartily.
"Thus, the successor must earn everyone's recognition."
In simple terms, it was a vote. Zien's polished etiquette, honed from clearing countless third-zone gates, was flawless.
"But those blinded by profit see not the gentleman, but the gold behind him. Gold doesn't lie, of course. Yet gold deceives. Gold is a demon. Gold is a ghost. Gold is the sweet falsehood that blinds one to truth."
Finishing his poetic words calmly, Hwang Chung filled his cup with liquor.
"Man is like this cup: the narrow-minded holds but a sip."
Hwang Chung raised his cup. His sleeve fluttered in the breeze.
"The broad-minded holds the world."
Hwang Chung drank his cup—no, the sun itself.
"What say you? Has your resolve changed?"
At Hwang Chung's question, Zien bowed his head.
He really wants to drag me into this successor fight...
He had no intention of playing along easily. The quest wasn't to become the successor.
"I have no desire to meddle in a tiger's fight as a mere wolf. Only a tiger can bring another tiger to heel."
"Kekekeke! Think a vote among tigers will settle it?"
"A vote?!"
Zien shouted, almost involuntarily—or perhaps it was calculated. He feigned shock verbally, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward.
"Father! This is to choose the sect leader. To decide it with a mere vote?"
"Mere vote? This is the heirs clashing heads directly. They'll accept the winner they chose themselves. My mind is set. One day. Just one day. Vote for the next sect leader among your brothers. And to avoid a tie, even I, the current leader, will vote."
As Hwang Chung's words fell, Hwang Yusung's face darkened to black.
He believed Hwang Chung favored the second son—Zien.
That's why I sent the assassins! Damn that bodyguard wench...
The second was clever, but mad. Mad with love. His one weakness.
That day he went to meet the Nangong girl was the perfect chance!
Too late to regret. If Hwang Chung's vote went to Zien now?
I'm at too much of a disadvantage.
As Hwang Yusung moved to object, Zien stood from his seat.
"I renounce my claim to the heir position."
Hwang Yusung and Hwang Sancheol dropped their cups in unison from shock. It was the reaction of everyone at the banquet. To toss away the chance to become the world's richest man?
But only Hwang Chung remained unperturbed, speaking leisurely.
"Renounce? What's your reason?"
"I was attacked by bandits because I set out for the Nangong family."
"I know that well."
"I have no desire to become sect leader and father to the sect. I wish only to become one woman's husband."
It was a backstory he'd heard from the maid, but the Nangong family had a tradition of taking sons-in-law. It was a convenient excuse for Zien.
"Hah, so you'll abandon all this wealth? Is that what you're saying?"
"Gold is sweet, but a demon that blinds one to truth. If I lose the one I truly love to that demon, what profit remains?"
Perfect lines.
Perfect acting.
Even the academy's acting professor would give a standing ovation. Zien's performance was flawless. His true intent was to settle the succession quickly and close the gate, but outwardly, he was packaged as a lovesick romantic lost in the third zone.
"As expected, you're sharp. Quick with numbers—born of a merchant's blood. But no ambition to hold the world in that vessel?"
To Hwang Chung's question, Zien replied firmly.
"Nangong Sojeo is my world. Once she's in it, there's no room left."
At Evan's words, Hwang Chung burst into laughter.
"Ha, hahahaha! Fine. I approve. Yusung, Sancheol."
"Yes! Father."
"Yes! Father." Everyone swallowed hard, hanging on Hwang Chung's next words.
"The one the second son chooses becomes the next sect leader heir. Any objections?"
Hwang Yusung glanced at Hwang Sancheol.
He knows it too. I'm better than the dumb youngest.
Hwang Sancheol glanced at Hwang Yusung.
The brothers don't get along. If I play it right...
Different dreams in the same place.
Hwang Yusung and Hwang Sancheol harbored opposing ambitions right there.
Back at the annex.
Only Zien and Riza remained.
To ensure caution in this operation, even the maids had been dismissed. Zien asked Riza, who wore a sullen expression.
"I told you, didn't I, Riza?"
"Isn't this cheating?"
Cheating? A naive story. Even if it was an illusion, he had no plans to slack off or repeat mistakes.
"What are you talking about? I upheld the quest's goal."
The quest was merely to decide the Golden Gate's successor.
"I didn't have to become the heir myself, right?"
"Well... true."
"It's a rank 3 gate anyway. This lukewarm ending fits."
"So, between Hwang Yusung and Hwang Sancheol—who is it?"
To Riza's question, Zien replied indifferently.
"Doesn't matter to me. If I had to pick, Hwang Yusung."
"Why?"
"The third zone values hierarchy deeply. They're picking the eldest."
Hwang Yusung had more power than Hwang Sancheol and far better legitimacy than the youngest. But Riza seemed dissatisfied, her face sulky.
"Still, it's a huge sect. Doesn't it need someone more responsible?"
"It's all an illusion anyway, so no need to..."
Zien trailed off, his gaze turning to Riza. Right—an illusion. Seeing Zien's bitter expression, Riza raised her voice.
"At least we should filter out the villain who sent assassins with poisoned arrows!"
Riza pointed to her magic tool—her left eye.
"You'll use the magic tool?"
Zien was willing to go along with that much. Even in a gate, leaving such a villain unchecked felt off.
"Don't push yourself. Got it?"
"Yeah. No worries. With the vote tomorrow, neither will visit the annex tonight, right?"
"Probably."
Zien nodded.
And the situation's in our favor.
Riza's role was bodyguard. Her presence in the annex raised no suspicions. In fact, given the circumstances, sending her away would only arouse doubt.
As long as Riza's by my side...
The moment the culprit opens their mouth.
Her eye will reveal the truth.