Chapter 147
Chapter 147
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 147
Chapter Title: Old Enemies
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The atmosphere turned frigid in an instant.
Even the onlookers retreated, their faces surprised as they warily watched the scene unfold.
But the sound had come from the far end of the tavern street.
Besides, a large crowd of spectators had already gathered, making it impossible to see what was happening.
“Pyeongsu!”
“Yes, sir!”
At Ju Seung’s call, Pyeongsu, the leader of the First Squad of the New Moon Unit, was about to dash forward to assess the situation and report back.
“That’s enough. I’ll go myself.”
“...Understood.”
At Neung Un-bi’s words, Pyeongsu stepped back.
It wasn’t that far. He might as well go directly.
If someone was mentioning the Demonic Cult to people other than them, it must have been directed at the warriors from the cult’s branch established in Samunhyeop. They were likely here to greet them.
And that shout told him a lot.
In truth, it was a natural reaction. The friendly gazes they had received in the territories of Mount Hua and Zhongnan were, if anything, the exception.
After all, it hadn't even been a full year since the Orthodox-Demonic Treaty was signed.
These were people who had considered each other enemies their entire lives; it was unreasonable to expect a positive perception of the Demonic Cult.
Who would stand by and watch as those who had hidden in the shadows their whole lives now strode about openly?
Especially when the interests they once held were now at risk of being stolen…
Thus, it was only natural for conflicts to arise with the established powers.
And it was just as natural that their mere presence, walking the streets harmlessly, would be seen as an eyesore…
As Neung Un-bi led his retinue toward the source of the commotion, the crowd parted on its own, intimidated by the Sun and Moon Flag and the black cloaks.
In the center of the large crowd, two groups faced each other.
Judging by their pitch-black attire, they were clearly warriors from the Demonic Cult's newly established branch in Samunhyeop. And the ones blocking their path were…
“The Peng family?”
It was them. One of the five great families that, along with the Nine Great Sects, proclaimed themselves the pillars of the Orthodox Faction. The Peng family, which held immense power in Hebei.
Not only were they all powerfully built, but they were also the only ones who walked around with massive tiger emblems emblazoned on their backs.
The moment he saw them, Neung Un-bi’s brow furrowed deeply.
Peng Yeon-woo, that damn bastard.
He remembered that man, the one who had mocked him as he wailed over his comrades' deaths, trapped in the inescapable net.
At the same time, he felt a sudden throb of pain from a wound that no longer existed.
It wasn't just him. The sight of the tiger emblem instantly shifted the purpose of his journey to the Central Plains from a longing for ‘her’ to the grudges of the past.
Countless names flashed through his mind.
Grit.
Overwhelmed by uncontrollable fury, Neung Un-bi unconsciously ground his teeth.
Their prized Five Tiger Decapitating Saber. When its magnificent strike swept past, his comrade's head had fallen and rolled across the ground.
The image of Peng Yeon-woo standing with his foot on that head, laughing, was as vivid as if it had happened yesterday, despite thirty years having passed.
But that wasn't the only reason for Neung Un-bi’s rage.
It was because he knew all too well of their cowardice, swaggering under the protection of the Orthodox Faction, and the deeds they had concealed.
Because of them, some had lost their lives at his hand, while others had lost limbs.
But the bastards never repented. Even when their sins were laid bare, they used their family's influence to ignore them. They even joined hands with those damn Zhuges to brand him a murderer.
The thought sent rage surging to the top of his head, making him want to smash the skull of that young brat—whatever generation of the Peng family he was—right then and there.
“...Wang Cheon.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Find out.”
“Understood.”
At the cool, low voice that seemed to catch in his throat, Wang Cheon quickly stepped into the center of the commotion.
As he moved forward, a young warrior from the Peng family blocked him, asking warily.
“The Sun and Moon Flag… Huh? Who’s this Demonic Cult bastard?”
At his pretentious tone, Jin San, standing beside Neung Un-bi, frowned and started to step forward.
[Elder Jin San.]
“...You?”
Seeing Neung Un-bi's hardened expression, Jin San halted his advance and stepped back.
But his eyes were filled with puzzlement. He had never seen Neung Un-bi, who had been so cheerful and seemingly carefree throughout their journey, wear such a furious expression.
[This is a matter for the Demonic Cult.]
“Hmph.”
Fortunately, the people at the center of the disturbance didn't seem to recognize Jin San.
Then again, who would have expected a renowned master of the Orthodox Faction to be traveling with members of the Demonic Cult carrying the Sun and Moon Flag?
They might know that the Third Young Master of the Demonic Cult was heading to Jeongju at the invitation of the Orthodox Murim Alliance, but throughout the vast world, only the Mount Hua Sect would know that Jin San was accompanying him.
In the end, concluding that there must be a reason for Neung Un-bi's actions, Jin San stepped back with Ung Hyeon.
“I am Wang Cheon, Guard Captain in service to the Third Young Master of the Demonic Cult.”
Though his voice was relaxed, it carried a power that was enough to overwhelm the onlookers.
The Peng family warrior, Peng Won-gil, glanced toward Neung Un-bi.
The surprise in his eyes suggested he hadn't known Neung Un-bi's path would lead him to Samunhyeop.
“I am Peng Won-gil, in charge of the Peng family’s Samunhyeop branch.”
“So you are the great warrior Peng Won-gil. Forgive me for not recognizing your esteemed name, as it has not been long since I came to the Central Plains.”
The words were an apology, but the subtle aura emanating from Wang Cheon was enough to dominate the scene.
The Peng family warriors around Peng Won-gil grew tense, their hands moving to the hilts of their swords.
“However, it appears that the people you've stopped are from the Demonic Cult's Samunhyeop branch… May I ask the reason?”
“That is…”
Under Wang Cheon’s cold gaze, the flustered Peng Won-gil’s eyes darted somewhere.
Neung Un-bi, not missing the furtive glance, followed his line of sight.
On the second floor of a nearby tavern, a man sat by a wide-open window.
His neatly tied-up hair was secured with a topknot crown made of blue jade, and he wore a lofty expression, as if he couldn't care less about the commotion outside the window.
But the moment he saw him, flames erupted in his trembling eyes, and they became bloodshot.
…Zhuge.
He recalled the name he would gladly chew to pieces.
A family represented by two words: Divine Calculation and Ghostly Schemes.
They were the ones every scholar in the world revered, whose great knowledge commanded respect.
But Neung Un-bi knew the ugliness hidden behind that facade.
He had once broken through the traps and formations they had created, only to feel sickened by all the vile deeds they had committed.
Eventually, he was discovered and fell into a trap they had laid, meeting his end.
They were the ones who had branded him a murderer, who had protected hypocrites with their vile wisdom and cunning tongues.
An enemy he could never forget, and must never forget.
With that thought, the demonic energy he had long suppressed surged like a whirlwind.
He wanted to rip their flesh apart and drink the gushing blood.
Grit, griiind.
Though there was nothing in his mouth, Neung Un-bi chewed and chewed.
Their names.
The memories of them.
My luck is truly great today. To meet two of my enemies.
“Third… Young Master?”
Sensing that Neung Un-bi’s expression was unusual, Hyang-i turned her head in confusion.
Her gaze followed his.
Soon, her eyes landed on the scholar Neung Un-bi was watching.
After studying the man for a moment, Hyang-i, for some reason, whispered in his ear.
“That bastard… Should I kill him?”
“…”
Truly, out of nowhere.
But her words managed to quell a fraction of his endlessly soaring rage.
She really never changes. Offering to kill someone just like that.
She probably didn't know anything, though. She must have just assumed there was a reason for his anger.
“Leave them. If they're to be killed, I must be the one to do it.”
“…”
“Besides… not yet.”
Soothing Hyang-i, Neung Un-bi calmed his heart.
If it had been Cheok Wol-rin, he would have already leaped into the tavern. He would have severed the man's head before he even knew what was happening.
But as he said, not now.
Because neither that bastard Peng Won-gil nor the Zhuge punk pretending to be aloof by the tavern window would know anything about what happened thirty years ago.
But he would have his revenge. Starting from the day he left the Demonic Cult and returned to the Orthodox Faction.
Just then, the Zhuge man, who had been feigning disinterest, made a move.
The wine in his cup. He suddenly poured the unfinished drink onto the floor.
Did the wine taste bad?
But Neung Un-bi’s curiosity was short-lived, as the result of that action unfolded before his eyes.
“This is the territory of our Peng family!”
“...?”
Peng Won-gil’s demeanor, which had been flustered as he faced Wang Cheon and glanced at the Zhuge man, changed.
His bewilderment vanished as if washed away, and he stared directly at Wang Cheon with confident eyes.
At this, a strange smile formed on Neung Un-bi’s lips.
The Zhuge family and the Peng family. Even after all these years, you haven't changed a bit.
Peng Won-gil’s change in attitude was likely due to the emptied wine cup.
That must have been the silent signal.
And if you haven’t changed, then I can’t just let this slide either.
You may be the same, but I am now the Third Young Master of the Demonic Cult.
Even if I’m leaving eventually, I should make good use of that name while I’m here.
Shifting his gaze to Peng Won-gil, Neung Un-bi clasped his hands behind his back and stepped forward.
“My lord.”
Wang Cheon bowed respectfully and moved aside.
Standing before Peng Won-gil, Neung Un-bi lifted his chin slightly and asked.
“And?”
“...Pardon?”
He hadn't even stated his name, but since Wang Cheon had called him ‘my lord,’ the man must have known who he was.
But perhaps because his attitude was unexpected, or perhaps because the aura Neung Un-bi emanated was even more intimidating than Wang Cheon’s, the once-confident Peng Won-gil could only blink blankly.
“You said this is the Peng family's territory.”
“Th-that is correct.”
“And?”
“...Pardon?”
“What about it?”
“…”
“How strange. You couldn't possibly be unaware that the Orthodox-Demonic Treaty has been signed… Why should that be a problem? Is there some reason why warriors of the Demonic Cult are not allowed to walk through your territory?”
“Th-that is…”
Seeing the clear panic on his face, a cold smile spread across Neung Un-bi’s lips.
His eyes darted ceaselessly toward the Zhuge man on the tavern's second floor; it was clear he was receiving his answers via sound transmission.
Foolish Peng bastard… Your predecessors were the same.
Magnificent, straightforward, practical, and even domineering, but they have no brains.
“W-well… Naturally, if members of the Demonic Cult wish to pass through our territory, they must ask for permission…”
“Permission? The Peng family's authority must be truly great, to be able to completely disregard a decision made by the Orthodox Murim Alliance, the Demonic Cult, and the entire Murim.”
“C-completely disregard?”
“Am I wrong? As I recall, the Orthodox-Demonic Treaty states that both sides will compete for interests legally, without resorting to coercive force.”
“…”
Peng Won-gil’s blinking speed increased.
Of course, the speed of the sound transmission was likely increasing as well.
But there was no way a relayed answer could be as fast as one given directly.
“There was also an additional clause.”
“...Pardon?”
“That in matters that tarnish the honor of the Demonic Cult, an investigator will be dispatched to conduct a direct inquiry.”
“W-wait a moment… Honor? When did I ever…?”
“So you didn't?”
“…”
“Just now, you blocked members of the Demonic Cult who had done no wrong and caused no harm, and you threatened them with coercive force.”
Peng Won-gil was speechless. The speed at which Neung Un-bi fired his words was far faster and more voluminous than the Zhuge man's sound transmissions.
In truth, whatever he answered, the result would have been the same. Neung Un-bi had already decided to crush them.
I was trying to live a good life.
I swore to myself countless times that I would never reveal the deep-seated anger in my heart until the day I left the Demonic Cult.
But that’s just how I feel right now.
I’m in the mood to pick a fight even if there’s no reason to.
And what do you know, you’re the ones who started it.