Chapter 11
Episode 11
Black Hand Craftsman, Guyongyeon
An untimely storm was raging across all of Sichuan.
Just days ago, the entire region had been in an uproar celebrating the Qingcheng Faction's disciple becoming the youngest student of the Martial Alliance Leader.
But overnight, everything had turned upside down.
For the Qingcheng Faction, it was like being struck by lightning from a clear sky.
Not only had Yi Ho-seong, who should have been at the center of celebrations, been reduced to a cripple—
The faction's reputation had also been dragged through the mud due to the disgraceful scandal he caused.
Qingcheng's leader Juk Seong-ja, Yi Ho-seong's former master known as the Lone Flying Sword, had mobilized all his disciples and elders to seek vengeance and restore their honor.
But unfortunately, they couldn't even cross their own faction's gates.
"Should Qingcheng attempt revenge over this matter, I will absolutely not stand idly by."
Sword Emperor Yoo Jin-hak had personally visited Qingcheng to declare war against them and Juk Seong-ja.
The Yoo Jin-hak who had retreated from public life ten years ago to focus on nurturing the next generation was gone.
In his place stood the Sword Emperor who had once turned countless martial leaders into wandering ghosts.
Faced with the Sword Emperor's unexpected fury and overwhelming aura, Juk Seong-ja could only retreat in panic.
To make matters worse, the Sichuan branch of the Martial Alliance distributed detailed reports of the incident throughout Chengdu, exposing all of Yi Ho-seong's vile deeds and making it impossible to control public opinion.
In the end, Qingcheng—having lost all justification—was left looking as pitiful as a dog chasing chickens.
The faction that had been poised to become Sichuan's hegemon had fallen so low in an instant.
No one could believe it.
And as the situation began to settle—
People's attention naturally shifted elsewhere.
To the Sichuan Tang Clan and Tang Se-woon at the center of this storm.
"Hah, an old tiger is still a tiger after all."
"That's certainly true..."
"Tch, who would've thought that half-wit from the Tang Clan would catch the Alliance Leader's eye?"
In a Chengdu tavern, sighs punctuated the conversation.
The young martial artists from Sichuan's minor sects who had attended Yi Ho-seong's banquet had gathered once more.
"Ugh, does this mean we have to start sucking up to the Tang Clan again?"
"Don't be ridiculous. After what happened, do you really think Qingcheng will just sit quietly?"
"Right. At times like these, it's best to keep your head down to avoid catching stray sparks."
"But what if the Tang Clan regains its former power...?"
Their faces all twisted as if they'd bitten something sour, they huddled together to discuss their next steps.
Each was utterly bewildered.
With Yi Ho-seong's downfall, they'd all suddenly become kite strings cut loose.
"...The Meteorite Sword that every young martial artist in the world coveted went to that Tang Clan runt. Who could've predicted that?"
"Hah, you took the words right out of my mouth. I still can't believe it."
"They say he was moved by his righteous spirit in risking his life to defend his family's honor?"
"But isn't this completely unfair? What was the point of us training so hard in martial arts?"
"Damn it! If I'd known the Alliance Leader was nearby, I would've used Congenital Qi first to defend justice!"
Their planning session had unknowingly devolved into jealous gossip about Se-woon.
Having fled before Yoo Jin-hak's appearance—even before the Black Dragon Guard intervened—they knew nothing of what followed.
Thus, even though they'd witnessed Yi Ho-seong's arm being severed in real time—
Like some of the negative public opinion, they dismissed Se-woon as just some lucky bastard who caught the Alliance Leader's eye.
"Wait, but why did that lunatic refuse the Alliance Leader's offer to become his disciple?"
"Well, rumor has it he said something about how the Tang Clan heir couldn't possibly learn another faction's martial arts?"
"Pfft, nonsense. He probably knew his congenital disability would expose his lack of talent if he became a disciple, so he just talked big."
"Honestly, I can't believe the Alliance Leader fell for that crap."
Their complaints and gossip continued until their topic finally shifted much later.
"Qingcheng is brutal. After all that history together, to expel him just like that..."
"Well, what can you do? Not only did he lose his dantian, but he's a crippled one-armed wreck now."
"I heard they sent him back to his family's merchant group, the Lee Trading Company, half out of his mind."
"Isn't the Lee Trading Company one of Gansu's top merchant groups?"
"What good is money now? Even the Divine Doctor of Emei threw up her hands saying she couldn't cure him. That means no one in the martial world can help him."
"Tsk tsk. Pitiful, but... well, he's just paying for his sins."
Having suffered much under Yi Ho-seong, they cackled while tearing into the cripple.
Then one of the young martial artists suddenly remembered something and cautiously spoke up in a hushed tone.
"Oh, speaking of which—did you know the Black Dragon Guard showed up right after we left?"
"The Black Dragon Guard?"
"Pfft, don't be ridiculous. Why would those guys who strictly stick to guard duty show themselves?"
"No, seriously. My father said all the Black Dragon Guards escorting Yi Ho-seong received heavy punishments! Especially their captain—he's apparently being exiled to the Xinjiang branch."
"X-Xinjiang? That backwater?"
"Tch, Xinjiang might as well be retirement."
"Once the Alliance Leader marks you, you can forget about ever holding an important position again."
Clang!
"Ah—!"
Suddenly, something shattered and one of the young martial artists clutched the back of his head.
Something had unexpectedly flown into his skull.
'A wine cup?'
Feeling the throbbing spot, he found fragments of a shattered cup.
"What the hell?!"
The young master roared and turned around—
Gasp!
He instinctively recoiled.
A suspicious figure sat there—wrapped in a black cloak with a wide-brimmed black hat pulled low—radiating palpable danger.
"Ghk!"
Crushed wine cup fragments lay in the man's grip.
When the stranger's murderous gaze locked onto the young master—
"...Gurgle."
The young master couldn't withstand it for even a moment—foaming at the mouth before collapsing unconscious.
"Wh-what? Are you okay?"
"H-hey, you!"
As the young martial artists clamored in confusion—
The mysterious figure had already slipped out of the tavern like a shadow.
Deep in the dark night.
"Haah. This really won't do."
Jang-il, a servant of the Sichuan Tang Clan, sighed heavily.
At this late hour, he should have been long asleep.
Yet here the boy was, pacing anxiously far from the clan's main estate.
'Waiting as Young Lord instructed...'
Jang-il was waiting for none other than Se-woon.
Neatly folded clothes were bundled in his arms.
Clan Leader Tang Mu-yeol had forbidden Se-woon from leaving immediately after Yoo Jin-hak departed.
This wasn't punishment.
Just then, Jang-il noticed the clan's perimeter—
Guarded by at least twice the usual number of sentries.
They stood ready against any potential ambush targeting Se-woon.
"...But can Young Lord even get past this ironclad security?"
"Of course I can."
"Eek!"
Jang-il jumped at the sudden voice beside him.
Se-woon pressed a finger to his lips.
"Shh."
"M-my apologies, Young Lord."
"Ooh, you brought everything perfectly."
"N-no, but how did you actually get out?"
"Hoho, that's a secret."
Se-woon grinned and ruffled Jang-il's hair playfully.
Soon the two began descending the mountain path.
Whistling cheerfully for some reason, Se-woon earned a sidelong glance from Jang-il.
'Is he going to the pleasure quarters like usual?'
While Se-woon didn't chase women, returning dead drunk was routine.
'Well... after such hardship, he deserves a day of proper rest.'
Normally Jang-il would worry and try to dissuade him, but this time he sided with his master.
Tap.
Then—
Mid-descent, Se-woon suddenly stopped.
"Young Lord?"
"......"
Jang-il tilted his head questioningly, but Se-woon silently gazed down the slope.
'Ah.'
Looking the same direction, Jang-il sighed briefly.
Where a prosperous village once stood now lay ruins of dilapidated houses.
During the Sichuan Tang Clan's heyday as one of the Seven Great Families—
This was Tangjiada, where the Tang bloodline had gathered.
Se-woon's smile had vanished, lost in deep thought.
"...Everyone's just busy living their lives away from the family for now, but I'm sure they'll all return soon, Young Lord."
Jang-il watched with worried eyes before cautiously speaking.
Snapping out of it, Se-woon curled his lips.
"Did I make you worry needlessly?"
"N-no, my apologies. I overstepped."
"Overstepped? I'm just grateful."
Se-woon looked down the slope again.
Then murmured softly to himself:
"...Right. They'll all return. No—I'll make sure they all return."
The profound weight in Se-woon's words rendered Jang-il speechless.
"Alright, enough melancholic brooding. Shall we head in?"
"Huh? What?"
Head in where?
Weren't they going to Chengdu's pleasure quarters?
As Se-woon abruptly turned, Jang-il followed and sighed in realization.
Finally understanding Se-woon's destination.
"Hoho, I can't resist the itch in my hands anymore."
Se-woon grinned as he spoke.
A sizable forge weathered by time came into view.
This was Manchuldang—one of the Tang Clan's five halls.
While the inner and medical halls were in the main estate, Manchuldang stood outside.
Understandably so—
Who could sleep with hammering echoing through the estate?
Watching Se-woon stride confidently toward the forge, Jang-il suddenly panicked.
"Young Lord! But entering Manchuldang without the hall leader's permission—even for you—"
Creak.
"—!!"
"Eek!"
The tightly shut forge doors suddenly swung open.
Revealing a white-haired master smith.
His thick eyebrows and firmly set lips suggested an obstinate personality.
Tiger-like fierce eyes locked onto Se-woon.
'Oh no.'
For the first time, panic flashed across Se-woon's expression.
He'd encountered the worst possible person.
One of only two non-Tang executives among the clan's leadership.
Master of all Tang blacksmiths.
Leader of Manchuldang.
Black Hand Craftsman Guyongyeon.