Chapter 55
Chapter 55
Namgung Hui-myeong seemed to be asking whether she wished to attend. However, since the Alliance Leader himself had summoned them, it was uncertain whether refusing would be appropriate. Moreover, information regarding Yeonghwang Yuse was scarce at present. Considering it a good opportunity, Yeo Il headed toward the Murim Alliance at once.
“I apologize, but Namgung Hui-myeong may not enter. We ask for your understanding.”
“What absurdity is this? Soyo’s throat is severely damaged—she can scarcely speak! I was already worried—”
Yeo Il grasped Namgung Hui-myeong’s arm, which had been unusually tense since midday, and shook her head.
“Guard. Later.”
It meant, roughly: Jin Cheong-ak will speak in my stead. Do not worry. I will tell you afterward what happens inside.
Understanding at once, Namgung Hui-myeong did not conceal his displeasure, yet he relented.
“…I will wait outside. If anything happens, come out immediately. Do not mind my brother or anyone else. Think only of yourself. Understood?”
What issue could possibly arise in the presence of the Alliance Leader?
After enduring half of Namgung Hui-myeong’s admonitions—thinly veiled as concern—Yeo Il and Jin Cheong-ak crossed the corridor just below the ridge.
Jin Cheong-ak whispered,
“So from this moment on, must I interpret your cipher-like gestures flawlessly?”
She nodded.
“A hardship.”
She nodded again.
“I doubt it is a matter of intelligence. It feels closer to mental communion. However it may sound, there seems to be an unfortunate resemblance between our young lady and the Third Young Master—”
Quiet. I can use voice transmission.
Ah. In front of the Alliance Leader? Bold. I am certain he would never notice.
That was true enough.
Then answer as you see fit.
“That I can do.”
No sooner had Jin Cheong-ak clapped his hands in mock realization than they arrived.
Creeeak.
The heavy doors opened, and warm air from within flowed out. The discussion had clearly been underway for some time.
“You have come, Soyo.”
Namgung Jeok-myeong’s voice echoed faintly from inside, suggesting the chamber used for meetings was quite spacious.
Jin Cheong-ak guided Yeo Il before Namgung Jeok-myeong.
“I apologize for summoning you so late. Given the matter at hand, it could not be helped.”
After Namgung Jeok-myeong’s apology, a voice of peculiar gravity followed.
“It is I who must apologize for the discourtesy at such an hour, Miss Namgung.”
She shook her head.
“Young Clan Head. If you permit, may I introduce the attendees myself?”
“Please do, Alliance Leader.”
“Miss Namgung, I am Gwon Jaseong, current head of the Murim Alliance. Though I seem confined within this hall, in truth I am but a pitiful wanderer whose residence lies in Jiangxi.”
Alliance Leader Gwon Jaseong.
A name she had not heard in some time.
In her mind, a younger Gwon Jaseong flickered into view.
He had once been the foremost disciple of the former Alliance Leader—who had contended with the Heavenly Demon and Cheon Mu-ryeong for the title of greatest under heaven. Before becoming a disciple, he had belonged to no sect, yet inherited the epithet Sword Saint through his singular genius.
Perhaps unwilling to pass on the hardships of his youth, he devoted much of his time to cultivating disciples.
Within Salmak, his disciples had been mockingly dubbed the “Alliance Leader’s Army,” and efforts were made to sow discord, though with little success. Judging by the absence of such rumors now, that attempt had likely been abandoned.
The organizational cohesion and loyalty of the younger martial artists centered around Gwon Jaseong were formidable and sharp.
“To your left stands Murim Alliance General Steward Moyong Sang-hwi, the vicious individual who orchestrates my confinement.”
At the playful introduction, a young woman’s voice responded.
“A pleasure, Miss Namgung. For the record, the Alliance Leader speaks the strict truth.”
“Her defining trait is her thick skin. Beside the Steward stands a tall elder—Bulye of the Mount Hua Sect.”
“I heard that you and your guard saved Yulim. I thank you sincerely.”
Bulye.
As expected, this old man succeeded to the position of Sect Leader.
The involvement of Mount Hua’s Sect Leader suggested the matter was more serious than anticipated.
“Next stands the Young Clan Head of the Namgung Clan, Azure Sword Flash Namgung Jeok-myeong; beside him, Miss Namgung; and lastly, Clan Leader Dang Maeryeong of the Sichuan Tang Clan.”
“I am Dang Maeryeong of the Tang Clan.”
Dang Maeryeong’s voice sounded even younger than that of the General Steward—perhaps slightly older than Seol-yeong.
The reason was readily inferred, and Yeo Il inclined her head lightly.
“With introductions complete, we should explain why Miss Namgung was summoned. I state in advance: this is not a gathering to judge your faults or assign blame. Steward?”
“The Alliance Leader speaks truly, Miss Namgung. We merely wish to confirm certain details related to the situation. Would that be acceptable?”
She nodded.
“Our young lady will decide whether it is acceptable after hearing the matter,” Jin Cheong-ak added unnecessarily.
She had already nodded, yet he insisted on embellishment. She nearly glared at him but restrained herself.
“…Our first question concerns the Eight Ghost, Blood-Draining Sword Ghost.”
“That field happens to be my specialty.”
“After dealing with Blood-Draining Sword Ghost, did you examine his back?”
“What purpose would there be in examining the back of a senile old wretch?”
Though she might have stopped Jin Cheong-ak’s flippant response, Yeo Il did not. It was not entirely incorrect.
Since they mention his back, they must know of Yeonghwang Yuse.
The crux was how far Yeonghwang Yuse’s reach extended. That was why Yeo Il had willingly come.
General Steward Moyong Sang-hwi continued.
“Did Blood-Draining Sword Ghost mention his residence or affiliation?”
She shook her head.
“Did you sense he acted under someone’s command?”
She nodded.
“Then do you recall any particular words from your exchange?”
Fearing Jin Cheong-ak might spout nonsense, she answered swiftly.
“Hunt.”
“…When cornering the weak, speaking of hunting was that old fiend’s long-standing vice. It was indeed Blood-Draining Sword Ghost.”
The Alliance Leader muttered with displeasure, then raised his voice.
“You are Jin Cheong-ak? When you crossed blades with him, did you notice anything unusual?”
After a leisurely pause, Jin Cheong-ak replied—though not precisely to the question.
“From what I gather, the attendees believe the old fiend and the owner of the human mask who infiltrated the Namgung Clan belong to the same assassination sect.”
Moyong Sang-hwi’s voice lowered slightly.
“…Do you have reason to think so?”
Though he had shifted the topic, it was not a poor opportunity. Yeo Il immediately sent a voice transmission.
Kill Register.
Such a brief transmission would not alert the Alliance Leader. Jin Cheong-ak responded accordingly.
“It is already known that Blood-Draining Sword Ghost targeted Mount Hua’s spiritual medicine. A sect capable of recruiting one of the Eight Ghosts would find crafting a human mask no difficult feat. Would it not be plausible that they infiltrated the Namgung Clan for a similar purpose?”
“A similar purpose?”
“The Kill Register.”
After a long silence, Moyong Sang-hwi spoke again.
“Spiritual medicine has long been coveted by martial artists. It is unsurprising if it is targeted. But to equate it with something like the Kill Register—does that not seem abrupt?”
“If they are Salmak, there is nothing abrupt about it.”
“……”