The Scholar's Scrutiny
Woo-gang gazed at the Murim Alliance building visible through the carriage window.
First off, the walls were incredibly high.
They were too massive to call mere walls like those around ordinary buildings.
Calling them castle fortifications wouldn't be an exaggeration—their height was staggering, and their thickness substantial.
As a result, there wasn't just a single main gate.
There was an outer gate on this side of the wall and an inner one beyond it, with the space between them longer than a full carriage including the horses.
It was the grandest structure Woo-gang had ever laid eyes on in his life.
He tried his best not to show his emotions, but the shock in his eyes was impossible to conceal.
Cheopun Danju caught a glimpse of it and offered a faint smile before turning his own gaze out the window.
Even after passing through the main gate, the carriage traveled quite a distance before finally coming to a stop.
It halted in front of a building as imposing as the gate itself.
Cheopun Danju stepped out first, opening the door, and Woo-gang followed suit.
It's even more impressive up close than from inside the carriage.
Woo-gang muttered to himself inwardly as he took in the surroundings after dismounting.
In person, it felt far vaster and more majestic than the glimpse through the window.
Towering structures rose high, flanked by several broader but shorter buildings.
Ancient trees lent elegance between them here and there, and flowers heralding the season bloomed in spots throughout.
Beside the building where Woo-gang now stood lay a spacious pond and pavilion, surrounded by meticulously tended trees and flowers that added a refreshing coolness to the air.
"Follow me. The Literary Chief is waiting."
Cheopun Danju led the way.
As they approached the building, the guards at the entrance bowed their heads in greeting.
Woo-gang hadn't had a clear sense of what the title of Cheopun Danju entailed, but seeing this, he realized Ma Yeong-pung must hold a pretty high position as well.
And indeed, as they entered and made their way toward Sa Ma-gang, nearly everyone they passed bowed to him.
"This is the place."
"Do I go in alone?"
"Yes. My role ends here."
Woo-gang nodded at Cheopun Danju's words and slowly pushed open the door.
As the door swung away from the frame, the interior gradually came into view.
The first things visible were a desk piled high with stacks of papers and the bookshelf standing behind it.
As the door opened further, a chair and table emerged, and finally, the silhouette of someone standing with hands clasped behind their back, gazing out the window.
A broad back, fitting a sturdy build, appeared first.
Then his side profile as he slowly turned, followed by his full face.
His mouth curved in an ambiguous smile, making it hard to read his emotions.
"We've finally met. I am Sa Ma-gang, Literary Chief of the Murim Alliance."
"Yeom Woo-gang."
"I know. Sit."
Sa Ma-gang's voice was soft yet carried an undeniable authority, addressing Woo-gang casually as if it were the most natural thing.
Woo-gang sat in the offered seat and scanned the office once.
His focus, previously fixed on Sa Ma-gang, widened to take in the surprisingly spartan interior.
In the meantime, Sa Ma-gang brewed tea, placed a cup before Woo-gang, and poured.
"Any discomfort on the journey?"
"None."
"Good to hear."
Sa Ma-gang took a sip after his brief question.
Then, leaning back in his chair, he stared at Woo-gang for a moment before speaking again.
"Looks like you trained rigorously at the Bing Palace. As the disciple of the Flame King, I expected a certain level, but you've exceeded even that."
"You know about that too?"
Woo-gang asked, surprised that even his time training at Bing Palace was known.
Sa Ma-gang smiled faintly, as if it were nothing.
"Just knowing you're the Flame King's disciple explains a lot."
Woo-gang took a sip of his tea at Sa Ma-gang's words.
His speech and demeanor oozed effortless confidence.
Facing that poise in this utterly unfamiliar space felt strangely alienating.
Perhaps Woo-gang was more tense than he realized.
"After returning to the Central Plains, you've been remarkably bold."
"It just happened that way."
Sa Ma-gang shook his head at Woo-gang's reply.
"Even for someone your age with exceptional skill, that's no easy feat. It's the kind of thing where you might have the resolve but struggle to act."
"Is that praise?"
"Hmm... let's call it somewhere between praise and reprimand."
Woo-gang's brow furrowed at the vague response.
He hadn't sought praise, but he certainly didn't think it warranted reprimand either.
"Hard to understand, I know. It's tangled in all sorts of complex interests. You'll figure it out in time... In any case, etching yourself into so many minds is a good thing. You've even earned a nickname."
"Black-Killing Nightfiend..."
"Yes. Black-Killing Nightfiend. Not exactly fitting for the disciple of someone at the pinnacle of the Central Plains martial world, though. It's striking, but has a rather unorthodox flair."
Sa Ma-gang smiled faintly.
In that instant, Woo-gang felt inexplicably overwhelmed.
Because of his martial prowess?
Sa Ma-gang's power certainly seemed formidable.
Woo-gang couldn't gauge it precisely, but it was clearly the strongest among those he'd encountered since entering the jianghu.
Suddenly, the thought crossed his mind: What if we fought?
A martial artist's fighting spirit.
The word, which didn't quite suit him, stirred in a corner of his heart.
"..."
But Woo-gang cut the thought short there.
Instinct told him the overwhelming presence wasn't just from martial might.
It was the strength to shoulder great responsibilities.
And the confidence born from it.
Woo-gang still needed far more experience to fully grasp such things.
"I've heard you've been searching for your grandfather's whereabouts."
"Yes. A few years back, after learning from Bing Palace, we've been inquiring ever since. No leads, though."
Woo-gang, who had been watching Sa Ma-gang, shifted his gaze to the teacup before him.
His reflection in the tea seemed to overlap with Si-woo's face.
"As you may know, the Flame King's disappearance involves his own sect."
Woo-gang looked at him with trembling eyes at Sa Ma-gang's words.
It was a story he'd heard quietly from Bing Palace warriors late one night.
That Sa Ma-gang knew even this was shocking.
"Do you know anything related to that?"
"Hm... I'd love to satisfy your curiosity, but unfortunately, I have nothing to tell you."
Hope flickered briefly across Woo-gang's face before fading.
"You don't know?"
"Correct. The Flame King was a master who appeared out of nowhere one day. No one knew of him before, nor his martial arts. He was a complete enigma. He never spoke of his sect, so there's nothing known."
Woo-gang let out a small sigh at Sa Ma-gang's answer.
The expectation that the Murim Alliance would have answers vanished completely.
"Haven't you heard anything from him? Things he wouldn't tell others, but might share with a disciple."
"Nothing from me either. He seemed like he'd tell me once I'd reached a certain level, but he vanished before then."
"Hm..."
Sa Ma-gang shared the disappointment.
The Flame King's disappearance was a major incident for various reasons.
The shock of it alone was huge, but more importantly, it meant opponents strong enough to make such a powerhouse vanish.
Those sorts posed an implicit threat to the Central Plains martial world.
Even the slightest extra information on them was vital for preparation.
The Murim Alliance needs that.
The Flame King was effectively retired anyway.
Whether before or after his disappearance, nothing changed.
For Sa Ma-gang, gaining intel on those who took him was far more crucial than finding the man himself.
Of course, he wasn't so sloppy as to let such inner thoughts slip before Woo-gang.
"We'll discuss that in more detail later. Rest for now—you've come a long way. Everything's unfamiliar, but try to relax."
"Understood."
Sa Ma-gang rose, and Woo-gang followed.
Sa Ma-gang personally opened the door and saw him off to the threshold.
After Woo-gang departed under an attendant's guidance and the door closed, Sa Ma-gang sat back down and poured himself another cup.
Chorrrrr!
He stared at the tea pouring from the pot's spout, then lifted the full cup.
"His martial arts and boldness are impressive for his age, but he's still got that youthful edge."
In their brief exchange, Sa Ma-gang had gleaned much about Woo-gang.
He'd observed every flicker in his eyes, every expression, tone, voice tremor, and gesture without missing a beat.
"He'll be more useful than I thought."
A satisfied smile spread across Sa Ma-gang's lips.
The room Sa Ma-gang had prepared was extraordinary.
Less a room than a house—far too spacious for one person, a standalone residence.
It was both a gesture of respect for the Flame King and his disciple, and a bid to win favor.
Several intentions lay behind Sa Ma-gang's arrangement.
Not content with just the space, he'd even assigned helpers to ensure Woo-gang lacked for nothing in daily life.
To someone like Woo-gang, fresh to the jianghu and newly arrived at the Murim Alliance, it felt excessive.
Yet Woo-gang accepted it calmly.
He couldn't be certain, but he had a rough sense of the intentions involved.
Just as Sa Ma-gang had sized him up in their short talk, Woo-gang had done the same.
The difference was that Sa Ma-gang drew on decades of experience, while Woo-gang relied on innate perceptiveness.
Entering the room, Woo-gang flopped straight onto the bed.
The soft mattress enveloped his back in cozy warmth.
The Murim Alliance's intelligence network is even more formidable than I imagined. They knew all about that Black Dao business too.
He'd only suspected it in the carriage, but now it was certainty.
They'd let it slide until now before showing up.
And the reason wasn't the Black Dao—it was him, he vaguely guessed.
There must be a reason they sought me out. I'll play along and feign ignorance until I find Grandfather.
Woo-gang murmured to himself, staring at the ceiling.