Deception on the Path to Song Mountain
Although they couldn't enter Shaolin itself, Geomwang suggested to Dang Cheon-yong that they at least catch a glimpse of Song Mountain from afar.
No matter the purpose of traveling with Woo-gang—to show him the world and let him gain experience—the top priority right now was Ak So-cheon's condition.
In response to Geomwang's question, Dang Cheon-yong replied that it was no problem.
It would mean taking a slight detour, but a delay of a day or two wouldn't drastically affect Ak So-cheon's state, in his judgment.
Thanks to that, Geomwang turned their course toward Song Mountain.
Woo-gang, too, expressed his gratitude to Geomwang and Dang Cheon-yong for allowing him to satisfy his curiosity in this way.
"The atmosphere is growing calmer by the minute."
As they drew nearer to Song Mountain, the feeling grew that the mood was steadily quieting.
Places with lots of people were usually bustling and chaotic, yet even there, things felt relatively serene.
They still had a full day of travel before Song Mountain would come into clear view, but the difference in atmosphere was already stark.
"Shaolin may be a martial sect, but above all, it's a Buddhist holy site. It's not just for murim folk. Plenty of people climb Song Mountain and visit Shaolin to pay their respects. That's why it has to be this way."
Woo-gang nodded at Geomwang's explanation.
"Truth be told, the atmosphere itself suppresses a lot. In a place like this, could anyone steel themselves to commit evil? The closer you get to Song Mountain, the stronger the aura of those with pure hearts becomes. Acting wickedly amid that isn't easy. Unless you're some madman who's lost all reason."
"I suppose so."
Geomwang's analogy was a bit different, but Woo-gang felt his own pent-up frustrations and negative emotions from the journey subtly washing away.
"You'll feel it yourself when you see it up close, but Song Mountain itself exudes an energy. It's the accumulation from countless devout Buddhists ascending and descending over long ages. Or perhaps the mountain's inherent spirit drew Shaolin to root there and attracted those with such hearts."
Geomwang's words only heightened Woo-gang's desire to see Song Mountain sooner.
But they pressed on steadily, without haste.
"That's Song Mountain over there."
Geomwang pointed to the distant peak.
Woo-gang stared at it, too entranced to even let out a gasp of awe.
Perhaps because of Geomwang's tales, even from this far away, Song Mountain's approaching aura felt immense.
Some indescribable energy enveloped his entire body.
This is Song Mountain.
Rather than a single towering crag, it spread wide around its famed three peaks—a sight worthy of being called a supreme vista.
The shape evoked a great barrier, as if safeguarding the lands around it.
Woo-gang couldn't tear his eyes away.
Occasional low-hanging clouds brushed past, lending an even more sacred air.
Song Mountain, with its myriad moods, made it clear just by looking why it was hailed as a sacred mountain.
"Hm..."
Geomwang let out a low murmur, gazing straight ahead.
Woo-gang's entranced expression shifted as well.
Moments later, a group of monks in their forties appeared before them.
Geomwang narrowed his eyes at them, and the monks pressed their palms together in greeting.
"We meet the Sword King."
"Shaolin warrior monks?"
"Yes. This humble monk's dharma name is Gong-yo."
"And the generation above you?"
"The 'Heart' generation."
"The current abbot's generation, then. Meaning... a successor abbot will come from your generation."
"That is so."
"So why have you come to find us?"
"The abbot asked us to inquire if you'd be willing to stop by, now that you've come this far."
Geomwang's face took on a troubled look at Gong-yo's words.
"We have urgent business in Sichuan. With a patient in tow, we can't afford delays. Tell him I'll visit another time."
Though Geomwang made his refusal clear, Gong-yo didn't back down.
"It seems the abbot has something important to tell you. It won't take long, so he earnestly hopes you'll come."
Gong-yo pressed his palms together again and bowed.
Geomwang frowned and glanced at Dang Cheon-yong and Woo-gang.
"It should be fine. Please go ahead."
Though Geomwang was there, Dang Cheon-yong effectively held decision-making authority for the journey to Sichuan.
With Dang Cheon-yong's approval and Woo-gang's nod, Geomwang let out a small sigh.
"Since everyone's fine with it, I'll go for a bit. You coming? It's a rare chance to see Shaolin."
Geomwang asked Woo-gang, knowing full well how curious he was about Shaolin and Song Mountain. He wanted to show it to him now.
But Woo-gang simply shook his head.
"It seems they have business just with you, sir. I'll be content gazing from afar today."
As Woo-gang declined, Gong-yo stepped forward.
"You can come too. It would be an honor for Shaolin to host the Flame King's disciple."
Geomwang's eyes gleamed at Gong-yo's words.
"No, thanks. Riding's still new to me—my whole body's aching. I'd like to rest early tonight."
Woo-gang replied with a smile.
"Then we'll go on ahead. Rest up a bit and follow. We'll meet at Deungbonghyeon."
"Understood."
Geomwang handed Woo-gang the horse he'd been riding and hurried toward Song Mountain with the Shaolin warrior monks.
Geomwang and the Shaolin warrior monks walked in silence, exchanging no words.
Once they were well separated from the group,
Geomwang ventured a question.
"How did you know that boy is the Flame King's disciple?"
Gong-yo, walking slightly ahead, glanced back with a casual reply.
"We heard the rumors that the Sword King was traveling with the Flame King's disciple."
"Rumors, huh... Hm."
Geomwang found it hard to take at face value.
Until reaching the Ak Family, they hadn't crossed paths with anyone from the murim world while traveling with Woo-gang.
Of course, someone might have spotted them en route, spreading word.
But even as Geomwang and Woo-gang moved about, he'd never heard such rumors from anyone's mouth.
If they were circulating, Dang Cheon-yong would have heard them too upon first meeting Woo-gang—and wouldn't have been so shocked.
Suspicion bloomed in Geomwang's mind.
"You're poor at lying. Your face and voice hold steady, but your inner turmoil shows plain. Your aura's shifted."
Gong-yo halted at Geomwang's words.
The other warrior monks stopped too, an oppressively profound silence enveloping them.
The tension hung as if violence might erupt any second.
Then—like something snapping—Geomwang's sword flashed out like lightning.
Tak!
Even more startling was the monks' reaction.
With tiger-like agility, they dodged the sword strike and leaped back, creating distance.
"How long did you think you could fool me?"
Geomwang fixed Gong-yo with a piercing glare.
"I figured it'd be around now. Honestly, I thought you'd catch on sooner. I'm satisfied."
Gong-yo's tone and expression remained unchanged.
But his aura had utterly transformed.
A vicious killing intent and insidious energy—utterly alien to any true Shaolin disciple—radiated from him.
"Impersonating Ak So-cheon before, now Shaolin warrior monks. Are you that formidable, or has Shaolin grown this weak?"
Even at Geomwang's lament, Gong-yo only smirked deeply.
"Either way, you knew this path didn't lead to Song Mountain, yet waited till now to expose us. Because it had to be this moment for things to unfold over there."
"You knew that too? Then you've made a poor choice."
Geomwang flashed a thick smile of his own.
"You say that because you don't know Woo-gang well. Regret will be yours alone."
Zing!
Geomwang twisted his sword, its razor edge emanating overwhelming pressure.
"Thanks to this, I won't need to worry about that side. Now I can focus entirely on capturing you lot."
A terrifying energy surged from Geomwang's entire body.
Separated from Geomwang, Woo-gang's group arrived at Deungbonghyeon and secured rooms at an inn right away.
With so much traffic, there were plenty of inns, and they were sizable too.
They easily claimed several rooms.
They carefully moved Ak So-cheon first, then Dang Cheon-yong and the Dang Family warriors, along with Woo-gang, retired to their rooms for rest.
The sun was beginning to set—the very moment Geomwang had drawn his sword on Gong-yo.
After a short rest, dusk had fallen, darkness rapidly encroaching.
It had seemed bright enough at first, but suddenly the surroundings were swallowed in pitch black.
Was it because Shaolin was so near?
Once the sun dipped, Deungbonghyeon fell utterly silent.
Hardly anyone walked the streets, and few homes lit lamps.
Even the shops bustling by day closed one by one.
It felt almost eerie.
Swish!
The wind sweeping the ground?
A faint sound broke the stillness, softly spreading.
Swish! Swish!
The noise multiplied, converging in one spot before stopping.
Right at the inn housing Woo-gang's group.
The inn was quiet too.
Usually, the first-floor tavern would have people drinking and chatting late, but not here.
Whether it was the region's nature or just tonight, who could say.
Whoosh!
A brief gust, and every light snuffed out at once.
Stygian darkness, as deep as outside, blanketed the entire first floor.
No sounds followed.
Only faint air currents hinted at the many presences moving.
Figures in black night robes gathered silently before a door.
It was none other than the room holding Ak So-cheon and Dang Cheon-yong.
One intruder pressed his ear to the door, checking inside.
He heard only Ak So-cheon's steady breathing.
The man pulled back, nodded to his comrades.
And then—
Krunch!
The door shattered as something burst forth.
The spear tip pierced straight through the intruder's face.
The black-robed assailants flinched and retreated a step.
Thud!
The spear withdrew, and the door's remnants collapsed to the floor.
There stood Woo-gang, cold-faced, back to the bed where Ak So-cheon lay.
"I've been waiting."
Woo-gang spat the words, glaring icily at them.