An Outrageous Proposal
“I will be blunt, Jin'in. Hand that child over to the Tang Family.”
“She has already been initiated into Jongnam. Do you truly believe a few words from you will make me part with her?”
“You ought to, given that it was Jongnam who lost the Myriad Poison Ring.”
Taecheong Jin'in fell silent at Dang Heo-gun's barbed remark. Just as the patriarch said, Jongnam held few cards. Having lost the sacred relic entrusted to them by the Tang Family, they had no defense to offer, even if blessed with a dozen mouths.
“Demand something else. I cannot send Ryeong to the Tang Family, not under any circumstance.”
“Jin'in, you must acknowledge what is plain to see. That girl was born with the uncanny genius of an assassin.”
Having closely observed Ryeong's movements, Dang Heo-gun had reached his own conviction: she possessed an innate gift for assassination. From the way she placed her feet, she operated on an entirely different plane from the other disciples. With just a little refinement, one could draw out that brilliant, lethal brilliance.
“Someone with the aptitude of an assassin has mastered the Floating Cloud Sword Technique to such an extent. Aren't you curious as well, Jin'in, to see what kind of monster would emerge once her true talents bloom?”
“...”
Taecheong Jin'in offered no reply.
Ryeong was Cheonsal's disciple. The only ones who knew this secret were himself and Jinyeong. For now, Ryeong was keeping herself in check, but what if she were to fully inherit the training methods of the Tang Family?
The Tang Family skates closer to the Unorthodox Factions than any other clan in the Orthodox fold.
A monstrosity beyond comprehension might very well be unleashed. Jongnam was the only sanctuary capable of suppressing whatever unorthodox impulses still lingered within her soul.
“Ryeong is out of the question. Ask for something else.”
“My, you are far more stubborn than I anticipated. It only makes me crave her all the more.”
A smirk curled at the corner of Dang Heo-gun's lips. The Taoist's firm refusal had only stoked his greed for Ryeong. Taecheong Jin'in swallowed silently, steeling his nerves.
“If you insist on taking that stance, Jin'in, I suppose I have no choice. I will yield on the girl. However, you must pay dearly for losing the Myriad Poison Ring.”
“I am prepared for that.”
“Close your mountain gates.”
“..!”
At Dang Heo-gun's explosive demand, Taecheong Jin'in momentarily lost control of his internal energy. A fierce burst of battle aura swept through the council hall like a gale, causing Dang Heo-gun's expression to harden instantly.
“Enter seclusion for one year. Shut your sect to the world.”
“Family Head Dang... do you have any idea what you are saying? Mountain seclusion without warning?! You have crossed the line, and by far too wide a margin!”
“Jin'in. If you keep reacting like that, I won't hold back either.”
A heavy, rumbling pressure filled the room. As Dang Heo-gun unleashed his own oppressive aura, Taecheong Jin'in ground his teeth and sank back into his seat. He knew all too well how foul and relentless Dang Heo-gun's temperament truly was.
No matter how gentlemanly a facade the man projected, it was nothing more than a mask. He was a ruthless conqueror who stopped at nothing to seize whatever he set his sights on.
Was his demand for the girl merely bait to spring this trap of sect seclusion from the very start?
Seclusion for a full year at a time like this would be catastrophic. The Dragon-Phoenix Martial Tournament was scheduled to begin in only a few months. If the Sword Dragon failed to participate, he risked being stripped of his hard-won epithet.
Taecheong Jin'in knew intimately how bitterly Jinyeong had bled and labored for that tournament. The thought of his disciple being forced to forfeit his title weighed painfully on his heart.
Yet sending Ryeong to the Tang Family was equally unthinkable. A powder keg that could explode at any moment was far safer kept close to one's own chest.
“If seclusion displeases you, transfer ownership of the sacred relic to the Tang Family.”
“...”
“Seclusion, ownership of the relic, or the child's expulsion from your sect. Choose one of the three.”
Taecheong Jin'in squeezed his eyes shut. Every single choice was abhorrent. Yet if forced to pick between evils...
“We shall close the gates... for one year.”
In the end, he chose the year of seclusion.
After the Tang Family procession departed Mount Jongnam, Taecheong Jin'in assembled all the disciples to make a momentous announcement. It was shocking news: the Jongnam Sect would seal its gates and remain in isolation for an entire year.
The elders voiced vehement objections, and the disciples could not comprehend why such drastic measures were necessary. Though the sect had suffered damage, it had not seemed severe enough to warrant total seclusion. Yet the moment the sacred relic was brought up, the chorus of protests evaporated.
Failing to safeguard the relic left them without a leg to stand on. Whatever outrageous demands the Tang Family had levied, Taecheong Jin'in must have chosen the best possible recourse.
The trust the elders and disciples held in their leader ran deep. Even if a year of isolation cut to the bone, if it was deemed necessary for Jongnam's preservation, they had no choice but to accept it. Except, of course, for one person.
“Sect Leader! One year of seclusion is completely unjust! How can the Tang Family presume to force Jongnam to shut its gates?!”
“Jinyeong. This was the best choice available. I am truly sorry to you, my boy.”
“...Damn it!”
Unable to rein in his surging emotions, Jinyeong spun around and bolted outside. No one tried to stop him. Not a single person among them was ignorant of how fiercely he had run toward the Dragon-Phoenix Martial Tournament.
“I'll go bring him back,” Ryeong said, stepping forward to look for Jinyeong. In truth, she figured searching for him would be a good excuse to get some fresh air.
Once the two of them had vanished into the distance, Taecheong Jin'in returned to his chambers and summoned his personal guard.
“Samyeong.”
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
“Instruct the Thirty-Six Swords to return to Mount Jongnam at once.”
“Pardon? But they are currently—”
“One year. For one full year, we shall hone our blades in silence before stepping out into the martial world once more.”
Resolute determination burned in Taecheong Jin'in's eyes. To him as well, submitting to a year of seclusion was nothing short of humiliating.
Worse, a sinister new threat in the form of the Demon Blood Divine Cult had just emerged. At such a precarious juncture, for the pillar of Shaanxi to withdraw from the realm for an entire year? No matter how much intelligence they gathered in secret, their preparations against the cult would inevitably lag behind.
In that case, accelerating the sect's martial power at a breakneck pace was their only option. Since they were forced to surrender a year of worldly presence anyway, he intended to turn that year into an invaluable gift of growth for his disciples.
“This is an urgent matter. Order them to halt all current assignments and return immediately.”
“Sect Leader. Doing so may cause friction with the Murim Alliance.”
“The responsibility for our seclusion lies squarely with the Tang Family. If the Alliance raises objections, point them directly toward Sichuan.”
Passing the buck. It was a petty maneuver he generally loathed to employ, but the conditions demanded by the Tang Family in exchange for the lost relic had crossed every line of decency. Though clothed in civil speech, they had practically threatened war. Taecheong Jin'in had every intention of giving them a taste of their own medicine.
“Go now. We shall formally declare our seclusion at first light.”
“By your command.”
Samyeong bowed his head and set out for the northern frontier. The Thirty-Six Swords of Jongnam had been stationed in the north at the behest of the Murim Alliance. Their mission was to monitor the movements of the tribes that had unified the vast northern steppes. Should those nomadic forces ride south, the swordsmen were tasked with impeding their advance while relaying urgent dispatches to the Alliance headquarters in Henan.
The average realm of the Thirty-Six Swords sat at the pinnacle of the Peak Realm, and among their ranks were several supreme masters who had stepped into the Transcendent Realm. As a singular martial formation within a sect, they wielded an intimidating might that outmatched even the revered Seven Swords of Wudang. That was the unyielding pillar of pride known as Jongnam's Thirty-Six Swords Under Heaven.
Meanwhile, Ryeong tracked down Jinyeong. Finding him perched morosely on the edge of a cliff, she strolled over and took a seat beside him.
“What's the big deal? Is shutting the gates for a year really that traumatic?”
“You wouldn't understand, young lady. You have no idea how long and hard I've honed my sword just for the Dragon-Phoenix Martial Tournament.”
“It's starting soon, isn't it? Seclusion or not, can't you just slip out and enter anyway?”
“...Sect seclusion means a complete cessation of all external activities. Naturally, participating in the tournament is out of the question.”
Jinyeong ground his teeth as he spoke, his simmering hatred toward the Tang Family laid bare.
“A one-year seclusion is absurd! It was Jongnam that took the brunt of the attack! Why does an unrelated clan get to stick their noses into our sect's affairs and dictate our fate?!”
“You lost one of only five sacred relics in existence to the enemy. Strictly speaking, Jongnam is the one in the wrong.”
“Are you not on Jongnam's side?!”
Jinyeong yelled, his face flushed scarlet. He had far more pent-up rage buried inside than she had anticipated.
Ryeong couldn't truly relate to his anger. To her, hollow titles and formal duels were trivialities. She had no inkling of what it meant to chase the orthodox ideal of an upright disciple walking the righteous path. A fundamental divergence in values bred silence. In moments like this, she knew listening was the wisest course.
“Forgive me. I let my temper get the better of me.”
“Don't worry about it. I might not understand what you hold dear, but there is something I can do for you.”
“Something you can do?”
“You said we have a whole year, right? During that time, learn an assassin's martial arts from me.”
“..!”
Jinyeong's eyes widened like saucers. By her own admission, Ryeong was the disciple of Cheonsal, one of the Four Great Evils. That meant she wielded his exclusive, secret arts. With Cheonsal having been found murdered on Mount Qingcheng, she, as the heir to his legacy, stood at the absolute pinnacle of contemporary assassination techniques.
And such a person was offering to pass down her craft. Even though the lethal arts of an assassin felt illicit and taboo, as a martial artist, he couldn't deny the intrigue stirring within him. Having witnessed the Demon Blood Divine Cult's assault on Mount Jongnam, he knew full well: she was vastly stronger than she appeared. The martial prowess she wielded lacked nothing when stood against Jongnam's revered heritage.
“But if the Sect Leader finds out about this...”
“I bet he'll allow it. This forced seclusion seems to have rubbed him the wrong way entirely.”
Recalling Dang Heo-gun's smug face, Ryeong mused inwardly. The man likely believed he had cornered Jongnam into helpless submission with this one-year quarantine. But the reality was quite the opposite.
Dang Heo-gun. You've made a terrible mistake.
He had gifted Jongnam the single most precious commodity in the martial world: time. A whole year of it. And Ryeong was certain. This year granted to them would serve as the very crucible that propelled her into the Transcendent Realm.