Chapter 105
Chapter 105
True Education (1)
Tang Se-woon calmly endured the furious glares directed at him while inwardly sighing.
'Hah, this isn't easy.'
Indeed, the mysterious figure who had appeared before them was none other than Tang Se-woon himself.
Every vulgar insult and scathing personal attack he had hurled at them like a storm thus far had been carefully calculated—all part of an act with a purpose.
'I need to make sure they never recognize me.'
By presenting himself as the complete opposite of the Tang Se-woon they knew, he could more effectively conceal his true identity.
Otherwise, would he ever behave in such a crude manner?
......Of course, he couldn't quite explain why perfectly timed curses kept slipping out without any preparation. He forcefully ignored that nagging thought.
Just then, Se-woon flinched slightly—for among those glaring at him with murderous intent was his elder sister, Tang Se-rin.
Her eyes, sharp with the Tang Clan's signature venomous aura, burned fiercely.
'......Forgive me, Noona.'
He truly felt guilty toward her, but there was no other choice.
This was all due to the agreement he had made with Yoo Jin-hak a few days prior.
After Se-woon declared his intention to seize the Blood Cult's faction, Yoo Jin-hak's first words had been:
"......Had anyone else said the same thing in front of me, no matter who they were, I would have thrown them into the training hall or, worse, crippled their dantian."
A terrifying statement from the world's strongest martial artist.
But the words that followed were filled with nothing but concern for Se-woon.
"Only because it's you, Se-woon, that I waver."
"Even if you've merely glimpsed a fragment of the darkness, your words—that the divided orthodox factions alone cannot stop them—cut me to the bone."
Yoo Jin-hak's expression was steeped in sorrow so profound that Se-woon could almost read his thoughts just by looking at him.
How much deeper into the abyss had this mere twenty-year-old ventured before him?
How painful must it be to watch this young man abandon the prestige of the Seven Great Families, cast aside the fame and honor he had painstakingly built, and walk a path between righteousness and evil—enduring every manner of humiliation and disgrace?
Lowering his head, Yoo Jin-hak continued:
"But how could I possibly stop you?"
"Very well. Walk the path you've chosen."
Yet, with great difficulty, he added one final condition:
"......However, for the sake of the orthodox factions and the righteous path, promise me one thing."
"Anything, Alliance Leader."
"......I cannot bear to see more young lives lost. So......"
Se-woon's thoughts abruptly cut off.
"Hey! No matter what, your words are too much!"
"Indeed!! Even if you've come under the Alliance Leader's orders, you should at least maintain basic courtesy—!"
Surin and Nam Mu-jin raised their voices in anger, barely restraining themselves from lunging at him in fury.
Then, Jang So-pyeong, who had been silently observing with cold eyes, spoke up.
"Come to think of it, something's odd."
"What?"
Se-woon replied irritably, prompting Jang So-pyeong to continue.
"Frankly, I find it hard to believe someone as insolent as you was truly sent by the Alliance Leader."
Instantly, all eyes turned to Se-woon.
Perhaps because they had been momentarily stunned by the barrage of insults, they realized—there was no evidence to support his claim of acting under the Alliance Leader's orders.
Under their increasingly suspicious gazes, Se-woon clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Persistent fools who lack even basic competence."
Swish.
He pulled something from his robes and tossed it onto the table.
A palm-sized object clattered loudly onto the surface.
As the junior elites glanced at it, recognition flickered in their eyes one by one.
'What is that?'
'......A wooden token?'
It was a small wooden plaque, engraved with four tiny characters.
Surin read them aloud, her expression blank.
"......Bonggongjipae (Token of Service)?"
Bonggongjipae—a token symbolizing service to the Martial Alliance.
The junior elites couldn't hide their bewilderment.
To their knowledge, the title Bonggong no longer existed within the Martial Alliance.
But it had once been real.
Bonggong was an honorary position granted to external experts invited by the Alliance—a role akin to a retainer for noble martial families.
Normally, they had no obligations, serving only when called upon by the Alliance Leader.
However, precisely because they were selectively recruited, most Bonggong were renowned martial artists who walked the line between righteousness and evil.
'But even those disappeared after the Great Righteous-Demonic War.'
During the Alliance's golden age, the rampant misuse of Bonggong led to such abuses that the position had been abolished entirely—until now.
Yet here, before their eyes, was the legendary token they had only heard of in stories.
Of course, they suspected it might be a forgery—but unfortunately, that seemed impossible.
The plaque bore an unmistakable mark, more definitive than even the Alliance Leader's seal on the letter.
The junior elites who examined it collectively gasped.
The engraving clearly bore the distinctive mark of Yoo Jin-hak's sword.
'......Don't tell me the Alliance Leader personally carved this token for him?!'
Every junior elite present was among the finest martial artists of their generation—none could fail to recognize the traces of the world's greatest swordsman's unparalleled skill.
As the stunned group exchanged glances, Se-woon scoffed and continued.
"What? Worried now that you've recklessly disrespected me?"
"......!!"
"Not a single one of you even noticed the letter being delivered, yet you still have the audacity to flaunt your pride?"
His words stung—because it was true.
None of them had sensed the presence of whoever had delivered the letter.
"......Then, was it you who delivered the letter to us?"
"Hah?"
Se-woon looked at Do Ye-cheon as if he were spouting nonsense.
"You idiots. Don't tell me you still haven't figured it out?"
"Huh?"
"......?"
Still?
What was he talking about?
Watching their confusion, Se-woon shook his head in disdain.
"Tsk tsk, eyes yet blind. Might as well sell them as decorations."
"!!"
As their anger flared again at his relentless mockery—
"This is hopeless. Show them."
"......?"
Se-woon suddenly spoke to the empty space beside him.
And then—
"—!!"
"Gasp!"
"Ahh!"
Everyone reacted with shock.
Clang!
Some even drew their swords in alarm.
But who could blame them?
Where there had been nothing—
A masked martial artist had materialized like a mirage.
An impossible feat, witnessed by all.
Had he not emerged from the shadows, it would have defied all logic.
"Tsk tsk, your expressions are priceless."
Se-woon clicked his tongue again, watching the junior elites frozen like statues.
"He's been working with me for a long time. More capable than all of you combined."
"—!!"
All eyes turned to the mysterious figure—but he remained silent, his posture rigid, exuding the seasoned aura of a battle-hardened warrior.
Then, the masked man—no, the assassin Mumyeong—sent Se-woon a sound transmission.
[Hoho, finally treating me properly, huh?]
Indeed, Se-woon had included Mumyeong as part of his team.
After being left behind during the Gaebong Blood Sect incident, the assassin had bombarded him with complaints—but now, he seemed thoroughly pleased.
This was why none of the junior elites had noticed the letter's delivery.
The world's greatest assassin—no, currently one of the top three assassins alive—had infiltrated their midst. Of course, they hadn't sensed a thing.
[Hehehe, look at these cute brats. Scared stiff.]
While outwardly playing the cold, senior assassin, Mumyeong's gleeful transmission left Se-woon speechless.
'A guy who loves attention this much is the King of Assassins? The world's a joke.'
He nearly laughed aloud but suppressed it—it was time for the grand finale.
"See?! Why should I show you respect? I came here to find subordinates willing to risk their lives for this mission—not to babysit you brats!"
"......!!!"
......Brats? They were being treated like children?
The insult crossed every line, boiling their fury.
But Se-woon didn't back down—he escalated.
Pointing at them one by one, he unleashed a torrent of abuse.
"A half-baked martial artist who's never even killed a man."
"......!"
First was Surin of the Divine Maiden Sect.
"A fool who wasted years without mastering his innate talent."
"!!"
Next was Do Ye-cheon.
"An incompetent who couldn't even detect an enemy's approach."
"How dare you...!"
Then Jang So-pyeong.
"A coward who abandoned his comrades and fled from Dokma."
"......!"
Do Ha-young's eyes trembled as if struck by an earthquake.
"And you lot—begging for your lives from someone half your age."
"Enough!!"
Tang Se-rin, the Peng siblings, and Nam Mu-jin roared in outrage.
But Se-woon ignored them, striding toward the last person hiding his identity.
His gaze icy, he delivered the final blow.
"And you—the loyal dog of a father who seeks to plunge the martial world into chaos."
Swish!
Se-woon tore off the man's mask—revealing someone none had expected.
"......!!"
'Why is he...?!'
'N-Namgung Baek?!'
'The heir of the Namgung Family was chosen?!'
It was none other than Namgung Baek, the son of Namgung Myeong—leader of the Elder Faction.
In the stunned silence, Se-woon snarled:
"Even if it's the Alliance Leader's will, I won't accept you. Why did you come so willingly? Planning to steal information for your father?"
Whoosh!
A vicious aura surged from Se-woon as he reached for Namgung Baek—ready to crush his shoulder.
But then—
Whoosh!
Without hesitation, everyone moved.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Se-woon's voice dripped with fury as the junior elites shielded Namgung Baek.
"......We endured your insults out of respect for the Alliance Leader."
Tang Se-rin spoke first.
It was true—Namgung Baek was Namgung Myeong's son.
Se-woon's suspicions weren't entirely unfounded.
"But no matter your authority, we won't tolerate you threatening our comrade."
They walked the path of righteousness—and that meant not tolerating such brutality.
"You worms. What will you do if you can't tolerate it?"
"Between martial artists, do we need words to settle differences?"
Hiss!
She drew her twin daggers and pointed them at Se-woon.
"We all challenge you to a duel."
"—!!"
As their collective glares bore into him—
'Exactly what I wanted.'
Hidden behind his mask, Se-woon smiled.