Gathering of the Rising Stars
Sa Ma-gang had meticulously reviewed the plans for the event preparations before taking a brief rest.
A soothing aroma filled the office, easing the tension from his face as he leaned back in his chair.
Knock knock.
A presence approached, and Sa Ma-gang straightened up.
The visitor was Cheopun Danju.
"Mu-sang says he delivered the message."
"I don't know exactly how he phrased it, but I'm sure he did fine."
Sa Ma-gang spoke as if it were someone else's business, prompting Cheopun Danju to venture cautiously, "Why didn't you handle it yourself?"
"Right now, Yeom Woo-gang is wary of me. He'd see it through colored lenses."
"Wouldn't that make things worse?"
Sa Ma-gang shook his head at Cheopun Danju's question.
"In times like these, you step back and make good use of the situation. Not clinging too aggressively will actually ease his guard. And hasn't a perfect stage been set?"
He glanced at the paper on his desk.
There lay an official document from Bing Palace.
"You plan to use Bing Palace?"
"It's not about using Bing Palace—it's about using the situation. Their purpose in coming is Yeom Woo-gang, not the Murim Alliance. If any issues arise, it's strictly between the two of them to resolve."
Cheopun Danju struggled to grasp Sa Ma-gang's intent.
Sa Ma-gang clearly wanted to position Woo-gang as a key asset for the Murim Alliance.
Yet this felt like retreating too far.
Using the situation. That seemed to hold the key.
"We set the stage and create the atmosphere—that's as far as we go. Spreading the rumors afterward is for the younger generation, and resolving any problems is up to them. If we meddle too deeply, it could spark conflict between Bing Palace and the Murim Alliance."
Only then did Cheopun Danju nod in understanding.
"Mu-sang's role is crucial... but he'll handle it well, I suppose."
Sa Ma-gang muttered.
Two months flew by like an arrow.
As the day for the younger generation's gathering approached, the Murim Alliance transformed.
The seasonal shift played a part, but decorations to welcome guests were the main reason.
The gates were always open, but such a grand public display was rare.
Most of these young prodigies were visiting for the first time, so leaving a strong first impression was vital.
It was the basics of recruiting top talent.
Woo-gang paused on his way from the training grounds to his quarters, taking in the full vista of the Murim Alliance.
The lush greens of summer and autumn's vibrant hues were gone, replaced by cooler air and a stark landscape that wasn't unpleasant.
Amid the subtle emptiness and loneliness, he even felt a strange coziness.
That comfort came from the Cheonwi Dan warriors.
Especially those with families—they watched over him more closely.
Some unmarried members had taken leave to visit home, but not Woo-gang.
And he'd lost his grandfather, the Flame King.
No matter how casually he mingled daily, feeling alone at times like this would only harden his heart.
So they made a point to look after him, and now Woo-gang could accept that care.
"You're back."
"Yes."
As Woo-gang returned, Dok Go-seol-ran greeted him.
He started toward his room but suddenly wondered, 'Why is she here?'
It was a question he should have asked sooner, but he'd never cared before.
Living in the Murim Alliance had opened his eyes to new things, sparking late curiosity.
Hyang-hun-dan handled internal defense in emergencies.
Though all-female, their skills rivaled Cheopun Dan, if not quite matching Cheonwi Dan.
A recognized elite like her had no reason to attend him here.
"Is something wrong?"
Dok Go-seol-ran asked as Woo-gang stopped and stared.
"No. Excuse me."
He considered asking but let it go.
Her reason didn't matter.
Her presence did.
Woo-gang hadn't realized it, but Dok Go-seol-ran had woven deeply into his daily life.
The day of the gathering dawned amid thick darkness, the sun's rise still distant, but the Murim Alliance buzzed with activity.
It seemed chaotic, yet an orderly air permeated everything.
As mist lifted with the rising sun, the main gate grew lively.
Early-arriving prodigies entered one by one.
From the gate onward, they gaped at the majestic sight, mouths agape.
For sect disciples or clan heirs, the Murim Alliance was a must-see dream.
Seeing the imagined reality stirred complex emotions.
The welcoming warriors couldn't hide their smiles, reminiscing about their own youth.
This age allowed carefree enjoyment of the martial world.
Thus, nostalgia and anticipation heated the atmosphere.
Meanwhile, Woo-gang stood in Sa Ma-gang's office.
Not in his usual training robes, but crisp, luxurious attire—and he scowled fiercely.
The unfamiliar clothes felt cumbersome, his reflection awkward.
"What's with that face in nice clothes? Smile."
"I never want to wear this again."
"Sometimes you must dress the part. Life demands formality."
Woo-gang's expression didn't soften.
"Fine for now, but don't scowl in front of everyone later."
"I know that much."
Even he wouldn't show discomfort before the crowd.
"Got your greeting ready?"
"Nothing to prepare. Just my name and a quick hello."
He wasn't one for grand speeches.
Sa Ma-gang knew that, saying nothing more.
He'd handle the pomp himself.
"Lord Mun-sang, it's time."
"Already? Everyone here?"
"Bing Palace hasn't arrived yet."
Sa Ma-gang frowned at Cheopun Danju's report.
He hadn't invited them; they'd expressed interest first, so he'd accepted.
But tardiness irked him.
I hate unpunctuality.
Yet he couldn't delay for latecomers.
Bing Palace was an outsider force; these prodigies were the Central Plains' future.
Priority was clear.
"Let's go. Bing Palace will catch up."
Woo-gang nodded.
They'll come.
With business for him, they surely would.
Imagining their imminent arrival, Woo-gang hardened his face and followed Sa Ma-gang.
The Murim Alliance's grand training grounds.
Vast enough for all units, the prodigies clustered excitedly.
Familiar faces chatted animatedly; others built bonds with strangers.
Similar ages melted awkwardness into camaraderie.
The buzz hushed.
Dok Go-yeong-mu appeared on the high central platform.
The famed Murim Alliance Mu-sang, Sword King's son, whose prowess shook the heavens.
Prodigies stared raptly.
Then Sa Ma-gang emerged with Woo-gang.
He positioned Woo-gang slightly back before stepping forward.
"You've traveled far—welcome. I am Sa Ma-gang, literary leader of the Murim Alliance."
"Woooaaah!"
Thunderous cheers erupted.
Sa Ma-gang rivaled Dok Go-yeong-mu's prestige as an idol.
"Ideally, the Alliance Lord would greet you himself, but as you know, he's in secluded training. Please understand his absence."
"Yes!"
The prodigies roared in unison, unprompted.
Dok Go-yeong-mu spoke next.
"May this event broaden your horizons, fuel your dreams, and solidify your goals."
"Yes!"
Another resounding reply, their passion matching the volume.
"And on this occasion, allow me to introduce someone."
Sa Ma-gang glanced back; Woo-gang stepped forward beside him.
"Yeom Woo-gang. Pleased to meet you."
His greeting was plain.
The unfamiliar name puzzled them; only scattered, awkward applause followed.
"An unknown name may confuse you. But I introduce Yeom Woo-gang here, amid this crowd, because he is the disciple of the Flame King!"
Murmurs rippled through the prodigies.
Flame King's disciple.
Some had heard vague rumors of his presence.
But doubts lingered—until Sa Ma-gang made it official.
All eyes fixed on Woo-gang.
Most with curiosity; some rivalry, others envy.
"Being the Flame King's disciple sets him no differently from you. He'll live among us here—get to know each other."
Woo-gang glanced at Sa Ma-gang.
This was news to him.
Flustered but silent.
Then—a frigid gale swept in.
Winter's chill was expected, but this was extraordinary, rare even midwinter.
Gazes converged.
Woo-gang's too.
A dozen warriors escorted the lead figure.
"We're late. From Bing Palace."
Han Seo-yeon bowed slightly in apology, then lifted her head.
Her eyes locked with Woo-gang's in the air.