This Is What Makes the World Interesting (5)
Cheong Myeong of the Mount Hua Sect.
That name undeniably carried great weight in the jianghu.
Whether one stood in the name of righteousness or evil, if one lived in the martial world, there was no longer anyone who could claim not to know the name of the Mount Hua Divine Dragon.
And yet, even to those who knew that name and understood what the Mount Hua Divine Dragon symbolized in the jianghu, this was still an obviously awkward sight.
Shaolin, Mount Hua, and the Sichuan Tang Clan.
The heads of three sects so formidable that even the word “renowned” did them no justice were baring their teeth and fighting with fierce intensity. In such a situation, the name Mount Hua Divine Dragon still seemed far too small to be intruding.
What's more, his conduct was so rude that, if he belonged to any other sect, there would be nothing strange about punishing him for the crime of insulting and destroying the hierarchy of the martial world.
But Mount Hua said nothing to Cheong Myeong.
It was truly bizarre, though perhaps it could still be understood somehow. Among those present, there were hardly any who could claim to truly know what kind of sect Mount Hua really was.
That was why the thing the onlookers truly found puzzling was something else entirely.
Why isn’t the Tang Clan saying anything?
It was the Tang Clan’s attitude. Dang Gun-ak was openly erupting with fury, and in that tense moment, a third-generation disciple had butted in. From the Tang Clan’s perspective, wasn’t that more than enough to count as an insult?
No matter how close the Mount Hua Divine Dragon was to the Sichuan Tang Clan, when one considered the Tang Clan’s unity—something few sects under heaven could hope to match—it would not have been strange for the members of the clan to darken their expressions and attack Cheong Myeong. In fact, that was how it ought to have been.
But the Tang Clan remained silent. They only watched Cheong Myeong step forward, their gazes fixed and unyielding. And in those eyes was nothing less than absolute trust.
No wonder the others were so bewildered.
Of course they would be.
Jao-gae, seeing the faces of the Eight Great Sects leaders growing increasingly rattled, slowly nodded to himself.
He could fully understand their confusion. If he had not witnessed with his own eyes what kind of man the Mount Hua Divine Dragon was on Plum Blossom Island, he would have been standing there with the very same expression.
In other words, if those people had seen him knock down the Black Dragon King with their own eyes on Plum Blossom Island, their reaction would have been entirely different.
Cheong Myeong had proven, with his own hands, that he was qualified to enter this conversation. In a sect, generational rank was important beyond measure, but sometimes there was something even more important than that.
Strength.
Who would dare call someone presumptuous when that person had faced the Black Dragon King alone and brought him down?
That was why Jao-gae could understand both the Heavenly Friends Alliance, who looked at Cheong Myeong with firm eyes, and the Eight Great Sects, who stared at him with suspicion.
Cheong Myeong, walking through the ranks of the Heavenly Friends Alliance, broke the long silence and spoke. His eyes were fixed precisely on Beop Jeong.
“So what if they colluded?”
Beop Jeong met him with a hardened face.
“What do you intend to do about it?”
The scene was deeply symbolic.
Beop Jeong was the Abbot of Shaolin. It would not be an exaggeration to say he stood among the highest authorities in the current martial world.
And yet here was a mere third-generation disciple from Mount Hua snapping at the Abbot of Shaolin. It was the sort of thing that made everyone watching feel an overwhelming sense of dissonance.
Beop Jeong’s status had not crumbled, even under those gazes full of doubt and disappointment. But perhaps, in this very moment, that status was being trampled by the muddy boots of an invasion from the east.
“...Layman.”
For a brief instant, Beop Jeong’s face twitched. But he could not afford to show anger here.
The Cheong Myeong he knew was vulgar and insolent, but at the same time, every one of his words and actions carried intent. He could never allow himself to be dragged along by Cheong Myeong’s pace.
“That sounds extremely dangerous.”
So Beop Jeong smiled instead, trying to project the benevolence of a man who could embrace even a reckless child.
“Then are you, layman, now admitting that the Heavenly Friends Alliance has colluded with the righteous path?”
Cheong Myeong snorted.
“I told you.”
“...”
“So what?”
Beop Jeong’s manufactured smile shattered at once, and a flush of anger settled over his face.
“You reckless—!”
His voice boomed loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Do you not understand how important this matter is, and speak so lightly?”
It was a stern rebuke, the kind of tone that made it plain he considered himself the superior party. It was also the kind of tone meant to make it unmistakably clear that the Mount Hua Divine Dragon’s attitude was wholly inappropriate when facing the Abbot of Shaolin.
No matter how correct a statement might be, if it was not accompanied by proper conduct and courtesy, did it not lose its light?
But there were people in this world who placed no value on such things.
“Important?”
Cheong Myeong gave a scoff.
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s damn important. For you people.”
“You should not—”
“But.”
Cheong Myeong’s cold voice cut Beop Jeong off.
“At the very least, none of that matters to us. The only thing that mattered was how to save Namgung.”
At those words, which sounded like the growl of a savage beast, Beop Jeong’s lips twitched faintly.
“While you all were just standing by and watching people die here, we threw ourselves directly into that river and risked our lives to save Namgung. And what? Collusion?”
Cheong Myeong’s bloodthirsty gaze moved over Beop Jeong, no—more precisely, to the disciples of the Eight Great Sects hiding behind him, barely daring to breathe. None of them could meet Cheong Myeong’s eyes, and all of them lowered their heads instead.
Not because they feared his authority.
It was because those who revered righteousness and justice could not deny those words.
“Let me ask again.”
“...”
“So what if we colluded? Are you going to draw your swords and cut off all our heads?”
“Layman, what I mean is...”
“Go on then.”
There was killing intent in Cheong Myeong’s eyes as he glared at Beop Jeong.
“Go on, try it.”
He bared his teeth like a beast, and even Beop Jeong, under that pressure, had to clamp his lips shut.
When he had been pressing them earlier, he had not actually had any concrete plan for what came next. He had only thought that if he pointed out this matter, it might reduce the criticism the Eight Great Sects deserved to receive.
But when the people who ought to have been shouting their innocence and raging in protest instead responded like this, he was momentarily left speechless.
Cheong Myeong’s words were exactly right.
If these people had colluded with the Evil Tyrant Alliance, then what? Would the scattered Eight Great Sects unite under Beop Jeong and punish them?
At that moment, Beop Jeong realized something: the Heavenly Friends Alliance, which he had never once considered a true rival, had grown to the point where it could already press a knife to their throats.
Whether that was because the Eight Great Sects had fallen into internal strife and lost their strength, or because the Heavenly Friends Alliance had grown beyond anyone’s expectations and expanded its power, did not matter.
What mattered was that the Heavenly Friends Alliance no longer feared fighting them.
Just look.
Even though Cheong Myeong was openly revealing his hostility, Hyun Jong and Dang Gun-ak made no move to stop him. Did that not mean that even these two men, who held the greatest authority in the Heavenly Friends Alliance, were not afraid to stand opposed to the Eight Great Sects?
That was not all. The alliance members lined up behind him were also glaring at him with eyes that showed no sign of retreat.
When had he ever faced such hostility?
For Beop Jeong, who had always dealt with eyes full of admiration and trust, the Heavenly Friends Alliance’s hostility was too much to bear.
“Layman.”
“I’m sick of it. That damned ‘principle’ you keep spouting.”
There was not a trace of warmth in Cheong Myeong’s gaze.
Beop Jeong probably did not think he was wrong right now. He had started by trying to trip up the Heavenly Friends Alliance, but while speaking, he had likely convinced himself that his logic was justified.
Knowing that only made Cheong Myeong’s stomach turn more.
The shamelessness of spouting that their own nobility mattered more than the dying, without the slightest hint of shame; the cold-heartedness of invoking lofty theories and principles while turning a blind eye to those being stabbed to death by swords.
How many people had died beneath that logic?
They must not join hands with the righteous path. They must not negotiate with the savages beyond the borders. A warrior must never dirty himself, even if it meant death. How much blood had stained the ground because of the high-and-mighty fools who only ever moved their mouths in the rear without once shedding blood on the battlefield?
What Cheong Myeong truly could not forgive was that they bore no responsibility for the sacrifice.
Collusion? Perhaps. To their eyes, Hyun Jong’s agreement with Jang Il-so might look like collusion.
Of course, he could argue against it all he liked, but there was no need to.
Even if not now, if it ever became necessary, he would have no hesitation about colluding with anyone.
If it meant saving one more Mount Hua disciple, Cheong Myeong would not hesitate even to lick Jang Il-so’s boots. And if the whole world pointed fingers at him for it, he would only sneer at them coldly in return.
So there was no reason to foam with indignation over this ridiculous farce.
“Say whatever you want.”
“...”
“You were going to claim it anyway, no matter what we said in our defense. Am I wrong?”
A mocking smile touched the corner of Cheong Myeong’s mouth. That blatant sneer pierced Beop Jeong’s chest.
“So go ahead and talk. Say that we colluded with the righteous sects to swallow the martial world. Say that everything that happened on this Plum Blossom Island was the Heavenly Friends Alliance’s scheme.”
Cheong Myeong swept his gaze over Beop Jeong and the disciples of the Eight Great Sects.
“That’s how you people do things, isn’t it?”
“Layman! Is that the sort of thing one who reveres righteousness should say?”
Beop Jeong raised his voice, as though he could no longer bear to listen. Yet even after that rebuke, Cheong Myeong’s face remained cold.
“Righteousness?”
Cheong Myeong twisted his lips in a sneer.
“I don’t know anything about that.”
“...What did you say?”
“I said I don’t know anything about that. Righteousness, or whatever else... spout whatever you like. I’m just doing what I have to do.”
Seeing Beop Jeong, who had been robbed of his wits and left speechless, Cheong Myeong delivered a chilling rebuke.
“You know what the way not to commit a crime is?”
Beop Jeong’s eyes filled with confusion at the sudden question. And when Cheong Myeong gave the answer, he shut his eyes tightly.
“Do nothing. Just like you people standing here.”
Silent stillness flowed along the river.
There was nothing left to debate about right and wrong.
Just looking at the disciples of the Eight Great Sects, who could not even bring themselves to look ahead, and the members of the Heavenly Friends Alliance, who stood tall with their heads raised, made it plain enough who was right.
“One day, you may find yourselves in the same situation Namgung faced.”
“...”
“Then say the same thing. Say we must follow the rules. If your head is about to be cut off and you still nod and say this is righteous, then at least I’ll acknowledge that conviction.”
The bodies of the Eight Great Sects’ disciples began to tremble faintly.
“But if you can’t do that...”
The killing intent flowing from Cheong Myeong pierced everyone’s chest like a blade.
“Then shut that disgusting mouth of yours and get lost. I’m not in the mood to keep tolerating it.”
“Layman!”
The moment Beop Jeong finally moved, Cheong Myeong glanced at him once.
“...”
Under that endlessly cold gaze, Beop Jeong’s tense shoulders sank of their own accord.
“You should’ve killed me three years ago.”
“You...”
“Right?”
Cheong Myeong flashed a dazzling smile and turned away without the slightest hesitation.