Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 023
Chapter Title: Moyong Clan Underground Prison (1)
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“What? What did you say?!”
Yang Dae-un reacted explosively upon hearing that Yang Hui-gun was being held like a corpse in the Moyong Clan's underground prison—no less, in the deepest and most dangerous section.
Tremble!
The Shadowless Sword Yang Dae-un shuddered from head to toe, unable to contain his emotions.
“Father.”
Yang Yeon-hwa could only stamp her feet anxiously at her father's distress.
“That can't possibly be true! The Moyong Clan has always been friendly toward our Ghost Sword Manor, and they even had ties to our founder, the Loyal Ghost Sword Yang U-ryang.”
This was precisely why Yang Dae-un was losing it.
It wasn't some completely unknown sect or clan—it was the Moyong Clan, of all places.
In the past, when the Loyal Ghost Sword Yang U-ryang had returned to his hometown in the Liaodong region to establish the manor, the Moyong Clan had been a supportive group that lent him aid.
“Even in my generation, our relationship with the Moyong Clan had grown distant, but there was never even the slightest issue like persecution.”
Yang Dae-un crossed his arms, utterly unable to believe it.
Even when Ghost Sword Manor was being pointed at and shunned for being founded by a Demonic Cult member, the Moyong Clan had stepped in to mediate, earning them immense trust.
It was right then.
“Dae-un Manor Lord. You don't know much about the hypocritical ways of the righteous sects, do you?”
Unlike the others who were outraged or shocked, the Heavenly Demon—remaining relatively calm—finally spoke up.
“Y-Yes?”
Yang Dae-un whipped his head around in surprise at the Heavenly Demon's cynical tone.
“The hypocrites of the righteous sects approach you offering even their guts and gall if it means getting what they want. All while hiding their true faces, of course. I understand it perfectly.”
The Heavenly Demon had no trust in the righteous sects, based on memories and experiences from the past.
Far from trust—he distrusted them completely.
“The Moyong Clan helped Yang U-ryang... the founder? Nonsense. They must have wanted something from him. But when they didn't get it, they captured Yang Hui-gun and suppressed him. That story makes perfect sense, doesn't it? Hypocrites always wear at least three masks, after all.”
“Gunryong.”
Yang Dae-un was stunned by the Heavenly Demon's sharp distrust and biting words toward the righteous factions.
‘Lord Heavenly Demon must carry deep wounds.’
Yang Yeon-hwa, ever perceptive and deeply interested in the Heavenly Demon, guessed that he had quite the backstory.
And her guess was spot on—for the Heavenly Demon, the righteous sects were synonymous with hypocrisy.
“You're Mokkyeong, right?”
“Y-Yes! Yes, sir!”
Mokkyeong flinched at the overwhelming aura and murderous intent radiating from the Heavenly Demon—impossible to hide even if he tried—and bowed politely in terror.
Who could have guessed that this courteous man was one of the Black Faction's savage fighters?
“Everything you saw and reported—is it all the unvarnished truth, without a shred of lie?”
“Yes, sir! Absolutely. And...”
Mokkyeong hesitated out of fear but gathered his courage at the Heavenly Demon's gesture to continue.
“The reason I remember Young Master Yang Hui-gun so well is that he's one of the few people who showed kindness to me and my brothers, who came from the very bottom of Palace Heaven. I've always thought highly of him and knew him in my own way. So I'm certain that man was Young Master Yang.”
From Mokkyeong's words alone, one could immediately grasp Yang Hui-gun's character and personality.
And it wasn't just Mokkyeong—in the Liaodong region, you could safely say hardly anyone hated Yang Hui-gun, even if they disliked Ghost Sword Manor.
‘It's just like hearing about U-ryang's reputation.’
The Heavenly Demon grew increasingly curious about Yang Hui-gun and wanted to see him for himself.
Just as Yang U-ryang had been in the past, he sensed that in this era, Yang Hui-gun would revive and become his right-hand man.
The time had come to find and revive him.
If there were no clues at all, that would be one thing—but with a lead, however uncertain, the action to take was simple.
“Whether that man is Hui-gun or not, I can check myself.”
To do that, the Heavenly Demon would have to go personally to the Moyong Clan's underground prison—the deepest part, where serious criminals no one could just enter were held.
Yang Dae-un, who had reacted fiercely to the Heavenly Demon's declaration of going himself, nodded in acceptance.
If it was him, he could trust and entrust it.
“Hey, how do we get all the way there?”
The Heavenly Demon asked Mokkyeong.
“To get locked in the Moyong Clan's underground prison, you usually have to pick a fight with a Moyong Clan warrior or, like me... ahem, cause trouble at an inn or area under their protection.”
“What? That's simple?”
The Heavenly Demon's expression eased, as it seemed easier than expected to reach the underground prison.
“Ah! But getting down to the section for serious criminals like me will be tough. I only ended up there due to a misjudgment by the Moyong Clan guards and got pulled back up right away.”
As Mokkyeong said, if the guards hadn't mistaken him for a serious criminal and sent him down, he never would have witnessed Yang Hui-gun.
From the Moyong Clan's perspective, it was a painful blunder; from the Heavenly Demon's group, a stroke of heavenly luck.
Mokkyeong had been able to leave the Moyong Clan underground prison smoothly after paying a set compensation and fine to Abyss Hall.
“Once you're in the underground prison, going deeper shouldn't be hard. Because...”
A mischievous smile spread across the Heavenly Demon's face, characteristic of him.
“We'll be pulling off an even harder prison break anyway.”
“Jailer Chief! Jailer Chief, where are you?!”
It was deep into the night.
Near the Moyong Clan's underground prison, someone was calling for the head jailer, the guards' leader.
Surprisingly, that person was Moyong Gwi, the head of the Moyong Clan that ruled it all—the top expert in Liaodong Province, known as One Sword Ten Thousand Changes.
Moyong Gwi was an outstanding warrior and an ambitious leader with a solid reputation for guiding the Moyong Clan well.
So why was this man, who enjoyed flawless praise, seeking out a mere jailer chief—a non-executive role—at such a late hour?
Everyone was curious about the reason.
“Yes, Clan Head. You called for me?”
Even more suspicious was the jailer chief's attitude.
Typically, roles like jailer or jailer chief in a clan—positions everyone avoided—were often assigned to collateral branches or even outsiders unrelated by blood.
Yet he seemed strangely friendly toward the clan head, whom he should revere or fear.
“Yes. Has the bastard talked yet?”
Moyong Gwi, who had come secretly to the underground prison in the dead of night without anyone knowing, lowered his voice and glanced warily left and right.
It seemed he had business with someone imprisoned there.
“Aigoo, that guy's stubbornness is tougher than an ox's. It's beyond belief.”
The jailer chief sighed as if he'd thrown up his hands in defeat.
Without a doubt, this prisoner was the toughest and most tenacious one in the jailer chief's entire career.
“Still, we have to coax and cajole him somehow until he spills it.”
“Of course.”
Did the jailer chief just sit idle?
He'd tried brutal torture to force his mouth open and even sweet-talked him that he could leave anytime if he just talked.
He'd beaten him in rage and treated him like a corpse, but the man never opened his mouth.
He preferred death over leaking anything.
“How long has it been since he arrived here?”
“Winter's coming, so it'll be about a year and a half soon.”
“Right. If he doesn't talk even after two years...”
Moyong Gwi pondered deeply before making a decision.
‘A long tail always gets stepped on.’
Even if they'd locked him securely in the underground prison to keep the secret from leaking, no secret in the world was perfect.
“Just dispose of him properly, then disguise it as a fall off a cliff or an accidental death.”
“Heh heh, naturally.”
No matter that it was an underground prison, this was talk unbecoming of a prestigious righteous clan on par with the Five Great Clans.
A clandestine conversation between a clan head and an insignificant jailer chief.
As their meeting dragged on longer...
“Jailer Chief! Jailer Chief!”
Someone urgently sought the jailer chief at this late hour.
Startled!
The jailer chief, who had been secretly meeting the clan head unbeknownst to anyone, jumped to his feet in panic.
As he floundered in confusion,
Shh!
Moyong Gwi nodded reassuringly and pressed a finger to his lips.
It meant to handle it quietly.
Nod!
Understanding, the jailer chief stepped out first as if nothing was amiss, blocking access to the space where Moyong Gwi was.
“Yaaawn~ I'm dying of sleep here, what the hell's going on?”
He then skillfully acted like he'd just woken up and scanned his subordinates.
“It's nothing major, but a young punk caused a scene at the Gold Flower Inn under our clan's management and got caught.”
“What?”
The jailer chief nearly burst out laughing at how trivial and simple it was—more than he'd expected.
‘Interrupting my meeting with the clan head over something this minor?’
From his perspective, the meeting was a shortcut to promotion, so the interruption soured his mood.
“Just grab the bastard, give him a good beating, and educate him. What's the problem?”
“Well...”
Under the jailer chief's grilling, the guards scratched their heads awkwardly before speaking up with difficulty.
“His temper's so fierce, like a thunderbolt-headed thug—he beat up several of our lower-rank warriors who came to protect the inn, knocking out teeth and even dislocating joints.”
“What?! Just one guy?”
The jailer chief's eyes bulged in shock.
Drunken troublemakers at inns were a dime a dozen every day.
Those nuisances were usually handled cleanly by a few lower-rank warriors in uniforms emblazoned with the Moyong Clan's emblem.
Because in this Liaodong Province, the Moyong Clan was equivalent to the Nangong Clan or Sacheon Tang Family.
But assaulting a Moyong Clan warrior was a crime that couldn't be overlooked.
“Tch, we have to lock him up. Actually, perfect timing—my record's been lacking.”
Saying so, the jailer chief signaled to imprison the offender in the underground prison.
“Yes, sir!”
“Got it!”
With permission granted, the guards eagerly brought in the young man who'd beaten the Moyong Clan warrior from outside.
The jailer chief, losing interest as it seemed routine, turned to leave but suddenly locked eyes with the youth.
“Tsk tsk, looks perfectly fine—why go around acting like that?”
In this Liaodong Province, falling out of the Moyong Clan's favor meant death.
He might look refined now, but a month in this underground prison would dull the light in his eyes soon enough.
“Lock him up moderately, give him a few whacks with the club, and do some re-education.”
“Yes, sir!”
The jailer chief returned to his room, and in the meantime, the clan head slipped away undetected.
“What was it?”
“Oh, nothing much. Some young punk who knows a bit of martial arts beat up a few of our warriors in a fit of youthful vigor.”
“Tsk tsk, to think such ruffians still roam Liaodong lands. Punish him severely.”
“Yes, sir!”
Moyong Gwi said that, promised to continue later, and withdrew.
Thus, while they idled about unconcerned, oblivious to it all—the man hailed as the greatest, most dangerous, and most powerful in martial history...
The First Heavenly Demon had completed his infiltration into the very underground prison they desperately wanted to keep hidden.