Chapter 50
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Arriving at the Hyuncheon Sect
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Creaaaak!
As the carriage door swung open, the hinges let out a piercing screech.
The rugged mountain paths had twisted the door's hinges slightly out of shape.
Songran sensed that the atmosphere inside the carriage felt just as warped as that door.
Cheongyo seemed to have realized that she wasn't just an ordinary girl.
"Sister, the truth is... I can see. But I've placed a seal on myself so I can't."
"...Why?"
"I practice a special martial art. Anyone who looks into my eyes becomes enslaved to me automatically."
"Like that soul-enslaving technique the martial artists talk about?"
Cheongyo, well-versed in tales of romance and passion, immediately recalled a similar art.
"Exactly. It's like that. But ordinary soul-enslavement requires intent, while mine triggers the moment someone meets my gaze—no intent needed. That's why I keep my eyes closed all the time."
"I see. That must have been so hard for you. Being able to see but choosing not to."
Cheongyo took Songran's hand, her eyes filled with pity.
"Sister, I'm sorry for deceiving you."
Cheongyo shook her head.
"What are you talking about? You've never deceived me. You just didn't tell me. How hard it must have been for you, Lan. To have a martial art that forces you to shut out the world even though you could see it."
Songran's eyes welled up with tears at those comforting words.
Hot tears fell like wax onto the back of Cheongyo's hand.
"How much anguish you must have endured, Lan. But because of you, we survived. You've saved so many lives."
"Thank you, Sister. I was so scared you'd push me away."
"Silly girl. What kind of sister would turn her back on her little sibling like that? You're family to me."
Cheongyo silently comforted Songran for a long while, patting her back.
"Looks like you two need some time to talk. Go ahead. I can chat with Songran later."
Cheongyo was a wise woman.
She had picked up on the fact that the two had private matters to discuss and gracefully excused herself.
"See you later, Lan."
"Yes, Sister."
"Please keep an eye on Yeoseol for a bit."
"Don't worry."
As Cheongyo left, Cheon Taesan spoke up.
"Miss Cheong is truly a wonderful sister."
"Yes. She's taken care of me like her own flesh and blood all this time. She's the only family I have left."
Cheon Taesan nodded.
What is family, after all?
It's the one who walks the tear-streaked path of life with you the longest, seeing you the farthest—even knowing that sharing life together means straying far from an easy path, sometimes bringing pain. Blood ties aren't required for that. That's family.
Songran was that to Cheongyo, and Yeoseol was that to Cheon Taesan.
He waited patiently for Songran to speak first.
The carriage lurched back into motion, following the road once more.
After the two carriage horses succumbed to poison, a member of the Hyuncheon Asura Unit had hitched their warhorse to it.
The warhorse pulled harder than ordinary draft horses, making the ride far bumpier.
"Scholar Cheon."
"Yes."
"Could you set up a barrier around this carriage?"
Telepathic transmission was possible with spirit energy, but he'd never created a soundproofing barrier before.
In any case, he rotated his three cores of spirit energy, emitting it to seal off the surroundings.
Songran sensed the barrier and smiled brightly.
"What an unusual barrier. So it was your floating orb back then, Scholar Cheon. This barrier feels like the same energy as that orb."
No one had sensed his spirit energy until now. For her to detect it meant Songran wasn't practicing ordinary martial arts.
Songran spoke up.
"Do you know the martial art I practice?"
She seemed eager to gauge how much he knew first.
"Soul Subjugation Divine Eyes... I don't know the details, but I've read something similar in old texts."
"That's strange. There are no official records of my art in the martial world."
"Why is that?"
Songran explained in response to his question.
"My sect has never formally revealed itself to the martial world or been known publicly. We only occasionally exchange with a few renowned masters, under oaths not to record it."
So the records in the Murim Alliance's secret archives must have been left in violation of such oaths.
"But after centuries, someone always ends up documenting it."
"I think so too. So, do you know my martial art?"
"I've only seen fragmentary records, so I'm not certain. They're ancient and full of gaps. From what you've said, Miss Song's art is indeed the Soul Subjugation Divine Eyes. A technique where merely gazing enslaves the soul. That's how it was described."
"Then do you know about the sect that practices the Soul Subjugation Divine Eyes?"
Answering her Q&A style was a bit irritating, but he endured it, respecting her intent.
She had chosen this format to explain thoroughly to him.
"According to the martial records, the sect is called Mokrimcheon. But does a real place called Mokrimcheon even exist? Even reading about it, I thought it was some fabricated tale. Descendants of Bian Que and Confucian scholars founding a sect? Who would believe that?"
Songran's eyes widened slightly in surprise.
She moistened her lips with her tongue.
"Besides Mokrimcheon, do you know any other sects from the martial records?"
"I remember. There were mentions of Wusangcheon and Jeongilcheon—sects unknown to the world."
"Do you believe those accounts, Scholar Cheon?"
He let out a hollow laugh.
"With living proof sitting right in front of me, how could I not?"
"Then do you know what those three places are collectively called?"
"No, I don't. The martial records are damaged in places, and I only saw fragments."
"I see. It seems some ancient martial luminary must have interacted with them and left records for posterity."
"But no one in the martial world knows of these three sects. Most haven't even heard of the martial records book itself, and it's treated as unofficial lore anyway."
Songran nodded and spoke.
"Jeongilcheon, Wusangcheon, Mokrimcheon. In our world, we call them the Three Immortal Fragments."
Three small realms splintered from the immortal realm.
It was a term he'd never heard before.
His mind held knowledge of every sect and faction in the martial world, yet "Three Immortal Fragments" was completely new.
"So Miss Song's sect is Mokrimcheon, one of them."
"Yes."
As Songran moved to explain more, he raised a hand.
"Miss Song, I'm just a scholar. You don't need to tell me about the Three Immortal Fragments. Just thinking about the ones who attacked us is headache enough."
Songran tilted her head, looking surprised.
She had assumed he'd be curious about this secret world still unknown to the martial realm.
To her, he might be the Alliance's secret weapon or even the Communal Battleground survivor, so she'd figured he'd want in on the secret.
He phrased it delicately: he had no desire to pry.
"Why would someone like me get entangled with the Three Immortal Fragments, hidden from the martial world? They must have their reasons for staying concealed, and I respect that."
"Ah, I see."
Songran nodded.
"Living in the Murim Alliance taught me not to pick locks on rooms sealed for a reason. I only learned of your circumstances because you're someone I know—and out of gratitude for dealing with those poison users."
Songran nodded, drawn in by his subtle rhetoric.
Truthfully, that was his honest feeling.
Now on rotation duty away from the Inspection Unit, he had no bandwidth for martial intrigues or secrets.
'Right now, I'm filled to the brim with worry for Yeoseol.'
The Ice Palace, Blood Cult, and Demonic Cult tied to Yeoseol—not to mention Gal Woheon connected to him—gave him splitting headaches just thinking about them.
"We'll arrive at the Hyuncheon Sect soon."
He opened his eyes at Gwan Ryongjin's voice from outside.
He'd dozed off while playing with Yeoseol.
"Brother, you're awake?"
At some point, he'd fallen asleep with his head in Yeoseol's lap.
"Your legs must be numb. Sorry about that."
"No, it's fine. You were sleeping so soundly, I didn't want to wake you."
"You should have. Our Yeoseol's learned to be considerate. You've grown up."
He stroked her hair, and she giggled happily.
"Yeoseol, listen carefully to what I say from now on and remember it."
"Okay."
"The Hyuncheon Sect we're heading to is an unorthodox sect. You know that, right?"
"Yeah. Hyenas with foul tempers who love bullying others."
"Hahaha, if unorthodox are hyenas, what does that make demonic cultivators?"
He asked, wondering where she'd picked it up.
"Demonic ones are like wolves."
"Right. They bare their fangs at the slightest provocation. So you can't treat people carelessly like you did at the Nangong Family."
"Hmm, so hyenas won't go easy just because I'm young?"
"Exactly. Best not to say anything at all."
"Got it. That's not hard."
"One more thing. Same here—no showing your abilities in front of others. Not even in empty places."
"They might be watching from afar?"
"Smart girl. Only train when I say it's okay."
"You're so picky about everything."
"Yeah. It'll feel restrictive. If you want to go back to the Nangong Family, just say the word. Or you could go with Uncle Nangong Cheolwoong and the others."
"No way. No matter how uncomfortable, I don't want to be apart from you, Brother. I can handle that much."
Yeoseol's eyes didn't waver.
"Still, if it gets too tough here, tell me anytime."
"It won't, but okay."
"Don't leave our quarters at first. I need time to check if it's safe to stay."
The words carried heavy meaning, but she nodded.
"Meaning we might have to bolt if things go south?"
"Heh heh, exactly."
"I'll behave here so you don't have to worry, Brother."
She even knew to sprinkle in sophisticated words like a lady now.
'When did she grow up so fast? It makes me a bit wistful. Is this how fathers with daughters feel?'
Her genius talent and intellect let her pick up anything quickly.
Still, she acted spoiled around him, which eased his heart a little.
He stepped down from the carriage before entering the grand gates bearing the massive plaque of the Hyuncheon Sect.
"What's wrong?"
Gwan Ryongjin asked him.
"I have people to greet."
He turned toward the opposite side of the main gate, offering a respectful clasped-hands bow.
It was a gesture of thanks to the five Emperor Guard Unit members who had secretly escorted them all this way.
As he held the pose for a long time, a telepathic message whispered into his ear.
-It was an honor escorting you, Scholar Cheon. Please take care.
Sensing their presences recede, he straightened up.
They passed through two sets of gates before entering the Hyuncheon Sect proper.
Like a royal palace or imperial court, it felt less like a sect and more like a fortress city.
Dozens of buildings sprawled across the Hyuncheon Sect, blurring the line between sect and citadel.
Gwan Ryongjin approached him.
"Until your quarters are assigned, please stay at the Welcoming Pavilion first."
Gwan Ryongjin led their carriage to a place with a vast pond and gardens.
"This is the sect's Welcoming Pavilion."
The Welcoming Pavilion consisted of three buildings.
They were ushered into the one on the right.
"Please rest here for now. I'll report to the Sovereign. You might meet him in about an hour, so prepare accordingly."
Gwan Ryongjin offered the advice and departed.
A middle-aged man with an affable face approached.
"I'm the steward in charge of the Welcoming Pavilion. Let me know if you need anything."
"They say I'll have an audience with the Sovereign in an hour, so I'd like some hot water for a bath."
"It's already prepared."
"Excellent."
He smiled at the man.
The rest of the group headed to the baths as well.
After bathing in the hot water, the travel fatigue melted away.
He donned a spare light blue robe and sat in the lotus position.
He'd never circulated energy before due to lacking a dantian, but with the secondary dantian now formed, he'd tried a few times en route.
And realized something.
Circulating internal energy through the meridians via meditation was like gaining an entirely new world.
He didn't use any special breathing technique—just let the six-year-old internal energy flow as it wished.
"The Sovereign wishes to see you."
He snapped out of meditation at the steward's voice from outside.
"Understood."
He followed the steward.
He knew everything there was to know about Mak Yeoheun.
During his time in the Murim Alliance Inspection Unit, he'd reviewed several dossiers on the man.
He had memorized every detail about such a key figure.
'If my memory serves, he's a man worthy of the title great hero.'
His decision not to decline Mak Yeoheun's invitation stemmed partly from clues about the Spirit Mountain Flower here, but mainly because of the man's epithet: Evil King True Monarch.
A sovereign of the unorthodox sects, yet more heroic than heroes, earning him the title True Monarch.
'I'm looking forward to meeting Mak Yeoheun.'
More so than even meeting Nangong Hak.