Chapter 38: The Fist King Meets the Alliance Leader
The Fist King Meets the Alliance Leader
Episode 38: The Fist King Meets the Alliance Leader
Naturally, Dan Woo-sung arrived first.
He hadn't been moving at full speed—just enough to maintain a gap where he could confirm whether the other two were keeping up.
Shortly after, Baek Han-gyeong arrived, his face pale, while the young leader of the Autumn Wind Falling Leaves faction appeared to be in slightly better condition, both reaching the destination almost simultaneously.
Despite his trembling legs and ragged breaths, Baek Han-gyeong was curious about the outcome of their race.
Dan Woo-sung stood with his arms crossed, staring at them, prompting Baek Han-gyeong to ask with a flushed expression.
"Grand Prince, who won? I think I edged out a narrow victory."
The Autumn Wind Falling Leaves leader shot Dan Woo-sung a look as if demanding honesty and said,
"Hey, Murim Alliance member. Are your eyes crossed? Anyone can see I arrived first."
Dan Woo-sung, acting as the referee, replied to them both.
"What difference does it make?"
"......"
"Either way, I won. If you want a rematch, race back there and return. Then we'll settle it properly. Care to try, gentlemen?"
The Autumn Wind Falling Leaves leader cleared his throat and responded.
"Let's drop it. I'll enter later with my attendants. I plan to stay outside anyway. Call it a draw."
Baek Han-gyeong turned and asked,
"Choo Pung—no, Baek Han-gyeong of the Murim Alliance. Let's properly introduce ourselves. I apologize again for my earlier slip of the tongue."
The Autumn Wind Falling Leaves leader flipped his fan downward and clasped his fists in greeting before introducing himself.
"My name is Hwa Eun-wol. A country bumpkin, so you likely haven't heard of me. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
Though he called himself a bumpkin, Hwa Eun-wol hailed from the prestigious Hwa Clan—a martial family rumored to have more secrets than what was publicly known.
Baek Han-gyeong replied,
"Young Master of the Hwa Clan. My apologies for not recognizing you."
Hwa Eun-wol studied Dan Woo-sung carefully before saying,
"No need for formalities... But the gentleman here—could he be the Grand Prince of the Silver River Merchant Group, the one who supposedly beat the head of the Guyang Family?"
Dan Woo-sung also clasped his fists in greeting.
"Pleasure to meet you, Young Master Hwa."
Hwa Eun-wol scrutinized him before nodding.
"So the rumors about the Guyang Family head losing a one-on-one were true. Let's meet again soon."
Despite his probing, Hwa Eun-wol didn't seem hostile—just confident they'd cross paths again at the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament.
Dan Woo-sung smirked as he watched Hwa Eun-wol walk away, fan fluttering.
Baek Han-gyeong asked,
"Grand Prince, why are you smiling?"
Any slight change in this stoic man's expression always carried meaning.
Dan Woo-sung replied,
"Are you participating in the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament?"
"No. I competed before, so I'm no longer eligible."
Dan Woo-sung observed Hwa Eun-wol's steady gait and revised his judgment.
"In terms of Lightfoot Technique, you likely came in last. Let's head inside."
Baek Han-gyeong looked startled as he followed Dan Woo-sung into the Murim Alliance headquarters.
"We arrived almost at the same time! How am I last?"
"Young Master Hwa came for the tournament. He deliberately matched your pace the entire time—holding back when he could've won. It's common—no elixir is awarded for winning a footrace, after all. He probably tailed us to gauge our strength, assuming we'd compete. Losing keeps opponents complacent. But he didn't want to lose to you, so he stayed even."
Baek Han-gyeong frowned, but Hwa Eun-wol had already vanished.
"Is that true? What a schemer."
"What's there to resent? It's natural to conceal strength before a duel."
Baek Han-gyeong studied Dan Woo-sung again.
Come to think of it, this man's way of thinking...
He didn't seem like a newcomer to the martial world—more like a seasoned veteran. As Dan Woo-sung strode into the Murim Alliance as if he owned the place, Baek Han-gyeong followed.
At any rate, he had successfully escorted the Grand Prince of the Silver River Merchant Group—mission accomplished. Yet, more than the satisfaction of completing his task, he found greater value in having met such a man.
After all, Baek Han-gyeong was also a man who aspired to greatness in the martial world.
"This way. Let's proceed to the conference hall."
"Will the Alliance Leader come?"
"Hard to say."
Deep within the Murim Alliance, a hearing of sorts was being held in the grand conference hall. But the only thing Dan Woo-sung needed to prove here was his martial prowess.
Thus, when he arrived, the high-ranking officials and elders of the executive branch and council entered the chamber.
Dan Woo-sung sat at the far end, expressionless.
Then, the doors burst open, and a lively-looking old man strode in. Everyone immediately rose to their feet.
"Alliance Leader."
The man was Yoo Jung-hong, leader of the Murim Alliance—a man who looked no older than fifty despite being well past seventy. With his white hair, vigorous energy, and cheerful demeanor, he resembled a spry elder.
Yoo Jung-hong scanned the room and asked,
"Where's Han-gyeong?"
"He escorted the Grand Prince of the Silver River Merchant Group but did not enter."
"I see. Pass along my thanks for his hard work."
"Yes, Alliance Leader."
Yoo Jung-hong surveyed his subordinates and Dan Woo-sung before speaking in a friendly tone.
"I'll decide Guyang Saeng's fate myself. He was part of the Imperial Council, so it's only right. Everyone else, step outside—only the merchant group's young master will remain. We'll confirm his martial prowess and settle this quickly. I'm busy, so attend to your duties."
He waved his hand dismissively.
Without protest, the heads of the executive branch and the council's elites silently filed out of the chamber.
Once alone with Dan Woo-sung, Yoo Jung-hong gestured.
"Young man, come closer."
"Yes, Alliance Leader."
Dan Woo-sung responded respectfully.
After all, even during his time as the Fist King, Yoo Jung-hong had been a senior figure in the martial world—second only to the Three Gods One Saint in fame and reverence. It was also this man who had rallied the Three Gods One Saint back into the martial world to wage war against the Demonic Path and lead the orthodox factions to victory.
A man worthy of respect.
A veteran warrior and a legendary figure revered by the orthodox factions. His eccentric reputation stemmed not from anything else—but his peculiar temperament.
His epithets weren't grandiose like "Emperor" or "Divine Sage."
Instead, he was simply called the "Sword Hero" or, since his youth, the "Great Righteous Hero"—titles that suited him best.
Of course, nowadays, the mere mention of "Alliance Leader" referred to Yoo Jung-hong, making additional titles unnecessary.
Yoo Jung-hong grinned.
"I am Yoo Jung-hong."
Dan Woo-sung introduced himself, inwardly grimacing.
"Lee Jin-eon of the Silver River Merchant Group."
"Poorly named, I'd say. A man as domineering as you, stuck with a name like 'Jin-eon'? Sounds more like a scholar's name."
Dan Woo-sung replied stiffly.
"It's just a name."
He studied Yoo Jung-hong closely. It had been years since he last saw this senior martial artist. Though his face hadn't changed much, the wrinkles had deepened.
Noticing his gaze, Yoo Jung-hong chuckled.
"You've got quite the stern face. In the martial world, I meet men like you often. Frankly, I prefer straightforward juniors like you—no hidden layers."
Only then did Dan Woo-sung relax his expression slightly.
Yoo Jung-hong gestured at his face and remarked casually,
"Much better when you smile."
It seemed he had been somewhat tense facing someone who could match the Fist King's full strength. In the martial world, undefeated warriors were rare—and Yoo Jung-hong was one of them.
Yoo Jung-hong spoke again.
"You've suffered because of Guyang Saeng. Showing restraint by not killing him and entrusting him to the Imperial Council was wise. You handled it well. What do you think I would've done?"
Dan Woo-sung answered honestly.
"You'd have cut off Guyang Saeng's arm first."
Yoo Jung-hong laughed loudly, without restraint.
"That's a tactic reserved for dealing with the Demonic Path! Couldn't do that to Guyang Saeng. Severing a demonic cultivator's arm just sends them scurrying back to their nest like cockroaches. Track them down, and you'll find their hideout teeming with allies. Why would I leave loose ends? Do I seem like a good man to you? Far from it."
His words carried his trademark stubbornness and ruthlessness. Yoo Jung-hong had lived a life of extremes.
After studying Dan Woo-sung silently, Yoo Jung-hong declared,
"Guyang Saeng will be imprisoned in Thunder Prison. The decision is final. Ah, and you—stay a few days before leaving. The Dragon-Phoenix Tournament will begin soon."
His tone lowered slightly.
"Normally, I wouldn't reveal this early, but the grand prize is a Hundred-Year Purified Ginseng. Donated by the Emei Sect. Aside from boosting internal energy, it grants heightened resistance to poisons. Why would I offer such a prize?"
"Because the Alliance Leader is already immune to all poisons."
"Close enough. Regardless, for rising talents, this elixir is more crucial than mere cultivation. At our age, strength matters less—time will claim us soon anyway. But you youngsters need to grow stronger quickly. That way, when major crises arise, we can rest easy in our graves. Will you compete?"
Dan Woo-sung nodded.
"I will."
Yoo Jung-hong asked,
"How's your training? Any bottlenecks?"
"None so far."
Yoo Jung-hong smirked before leaning back in his chair, eyeing Dan Woo-sung intently.
"Looking at you reminds me of a troublemaking junior I once knew."
Dan Woo-sung didn't ask who. No—he hoped Yoo Jung-hong wouldn't continue.
But Yoo Jung-hong pressed on.
"The Fist King comes to mind. Did you learn a thing or two from him?"
Dan Woo-sung coughed awkwardly.
"How did you figure that out?"
"Why so defensive?"
"I'm genuinely curious."
Yoo Jung-hong nodded and answered.
"Do you use fists?"
"Yes."
"Can you wield lightning energy?"
It seemed he had already pieced it together—denial was pointless.
"I can."
"The major sects known for lightning-style martial arts are the Seo, Namgoong, Baekri, and Oryo clans. Of course, there may be others I'm unaware of—lightning techniques are also practiced among demonic cultivators. Regardless, the Seo Clan shifted focus to swordsmanship, and the Namgoong Clan to blades—both due to internal strife over elixirs and succession. The Baekri Clan suffered repeated failures—their former head fell into Qi Deviation while mastering lightning techniques, terrifying his successors into abandoning the path. Their lineage died out. That leaves the Oryo School—the Fist King's one-man legacy. 'School' might be too generous—it was closer to a secretive tradition passed down to select disciples, like the Sword Immortals."
Dan Woo-sung nodded.
Truthfully, finding someone more knowledgeable about the martial world than the Murim Alliance Leader was near impossible.
Yoo Jung-hong continued.
"Those who master lightning-style martial arts undergo a transformation—their appearance becomes domineering. Eyebrows, gaze, aura, tone—everything takes on the likeness of thunder. Even their personality changes. They grow isolated, independent, solitary. That's why I never grew particularly close to the Fist King. He sought to become a bolt of lightning capable of tearing the heavens apart... What kind of man could befriend someone like that? Whether senior or junior, avoiding a slap was already a blessing."
Dan Woo-sung, who had been listening with his fingers interlaced, exhaled deeply and shook his head slightly.
There was no escaping his senior's insight. At this point, he had no choice but to speak a half-truth.
He declared as if announcing it to the world.
"I am the Fist King's successor."
Yoo Jung-hong smiled.
"The connection makes sense now."
"Yes."
Indeed—it made sense.
And that was the paradoxical truth.