Chapter 58
Chapter 58
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 58
Chapter Title: Chapter 7 - Murim Alliance, Establishment (1)
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It took another week to travel from Hubei Province to Wuhuan.
In the meantime, the group's mood had brightened considerably.
Above all, it was because Mok Ri-won, who had been the most downcast, had regained his energy.
There must have been some change in his state of mind from his conversation with Gwak Chil, but Dang Hwa-seo and Jegal San didn't pry into it.
After all, what mattered more than such personal matters was the simple fact that Mok Ri-won had pulled himself together.
"This is the Murim Alliance in Wuhuan...!"
Mok Ri-won gazed at the heart of Wuhuan, his eyes sparkling as if his heart were pounding.
At the end of his gaze stood the largest palace he had ever seen.
And on the grand gate of that palace was a name written in elegant calligraphy.
White Dao Murim Alliance.
Mok Ri-won's fists clenched tightly.
Dang Hwa-seo gave a small smile at the sight and spoke.
"We'll head straight there. Have you steeled yourself?"
"Of course! How could I hesitate now that we've come this far!"
Jegal San burst into hearty laughter at Mok Ri-won's spirited words.
"Hmm, I think forming the unit will be even easier than we expected. No, they might even come begging us to join first."
"Huh? Why do you say that?"
"Demons have appeared, haven't they? The atmosphere in the Murim Alliance won't be the same as usual."
Mok Ri-won's body flinched.
He put on a serious face and continued.
"...You're right. Demons have emerged."
This could be a moment when bloodshed might erupt again.
With that thought crossing his mind, Mok Ri-won shook his head as if making a vow.
"No, I won't let bloodshed happen again. That's why I learned the sword."
He resolved not to waver for the same reason ever again.
With that in mind, Mok Ri-won took a step forward.
"Let's go!"
Silent Dragon Mok Ri-won.
This was the moment of his entry into the Murim Alliance.
*
Today's Murim Alliance was quite bustling.
The reason was that the Silent Dragon, Strange Dragon, and Poison Phoenix—whose whereabouts had been mysterious since the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament—had appeared here.
It was naturally welcome news.
Rumors of their joining had been circulating subtly since the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament, and now it had become reality. How could they not be pleased?
The alliance's mood, which had darkened with recent demon sightings across various regions, was lighter and more vibrant today than usual.
Amid this, one man stepped forward.
"Fortunate timing. We were just in need of bolstering our forces."
The middle-aged man walking down the alliance's long corridor had a scholarly air, more like a scholar from some academy than a Murim Alliance warrior.
Yet he wasn't merely a scholar; the internal energy in his gait and the sharpness in his eyes were unmistakably present.
"Strategist, are you going personally?"
"It's the Dragon and Phoenix. If I don't go, who will?"
The Strategist licked his lips briefly as if choosing his words, then added one more line.
"...Besides, with my nephew here too, I should at least see him once."
"Heh heh...."
His aide chuckled awkwardly at the words.
He knew full well.
The man in the position of Murim Alliance Strategist wasn't one to be swayed by familial affection.
Nor did he particularly like those who tarnished his clan's name.
Just as he was blunt with his subordinates, he would likely stab his nephew's heart with piercing words.
Murim Alliance Strategist Jegal Mu-yeon.
He was the man with the most venomous tongue in the alliance—and Jegal San's uncle.
*
The Murim Alliance's reception hall was grand.
Even setting aside everything else, it occupied one of the buildings with the best views in all of Wuhuan, so the scenery visible through the windows was extraordinary.
But that wasn't all.
The traces of numerous famous scholars adorning the interior.
And on one wall, the densely packed achievements of the White Dao Murim Alliance.
These were more than enough to intimidate Mok Ri-won, who had spent his life far removed from such sights.
No, if one were to pinpoint the real reason for his intimidation, it was something else.
"I've heard the rumors. Teasing another widow whose husband you got killed?"
"Teasing? What a harsh word. It was a 'mutual agreement.'"
"Your mutual agreements must all be buried in widows' bosoms."
"Not wrong, but Uncle, you've got more wrinkles now? The alliance's duties must not be easy...."
"Not slithering around like some people."
It was a verbal sparring match with neither side yielding an inch.
Or could it even be called a fight?
They were smiling at each other.
Their words seemed laced with concern for one another.
Yet the meanings hidden within were so sharp that Mok Ri-won couldn't help but feel on edge.
Mok Ri-won whispered to Dang Hwa-seo.
"L-Little Sister. Shouldn't we stop them...."
"Let them be. It's a family reunion, isn't it?"
Whether it could truly be called a reunion was debatable, but Dang Hwa-seo had no intention of intervening.
It was rare to see that sly Jegal San with veins bulging on his forehead.
"Young Hero Mok, take a good look. You couldn't pay to see a sight like this."
Mok Ri-won hesitated but followed Dang Hwa-seo's words.
His eyes furtively darted toward the two men.
Strategist Jegal Mu-yeon had a serene expression.
His inherently scholarly aura was so strong that, were it not for his moving lips, one might not realize it was he speaking.
Jegal San, facing him, was much the same.
Veins bulged on his forehead, but his weasel-like face wore a sly grin, so he didn't look angry.
"You must have nothing better to do. Coming all this way just to see our faces in times like these."
"The Murim Alliance doesn't neglect its experts. When they're Dragon and Phoenix level, it warrants my personal attention. Oh, not referring to you. I doubt you even qualify as a dragon."
Jegal Mu-yeon said with a small smile.
"Heard you didn't even make it to the finals and wailed about your pathetic defeat."
"Sigh, Fist Dragon lives up to his name."
Jegal San let out an exaggerated burst of laughter laced with sarcasm.
Jegal Mu-yeon snorted derisively, then finally turned his head.
A gentle smile graced his face.
"My apologies. It's been so long since seeing my nephew that our chat dragged on."
"N-No, not at all!"
As the attention turned to him, Mok Ri-won stiffened and shot to his feet.
He clasped his hands in greeting.
"I'm Mok Ri-won! The jianghu calls me the Silent Dragon!"
The words slipped out impulsively.
Realizing he'd blurted out exactly what he'd always dreamed of saying, Mok Ri-won's face flushed with excitement.
Dang Hwa-seo smiled sweetly, rose, and returned the greeting.
"Poison Phoenix."
Jegal Mu-yeon also stood.
He knew when not to wield his venomous tongue.
"Strategist Jegal Mu-yeon."
Jegal Mu-yeon greeted them with clasped hands.
He sat back down and continued.
"You've come here to establish a unit, I presume?"
The Murim Alliance was the stronghold of the righteous sects.
As such, at the pinnacle of its information network, he could infer as much.
The conflict between Dang Hwa-seo and her clan, and the choice she might make amid that subtle power struggle.
Dang Hwa-seo didn't bother confirming it.
The more they understood her position, the better for her.
"Yes. At first, I only wanted to join, but that journey here strengthened my resolve. After encountering demons and witnessing the horrors firsthand, I felt I must contribute here to set an example for the White Dao Murim."
Her bold words, delivered with a sweet smile, were uncharacteristically audacious.
Jegal San let out a hollow laugh and poked Mok Ri-won's side.
Mok Ri-won just gazed at her admiringly, eyes shining.
"We were hoping to ask you ourselves."
Jegal Mu-yeon smiled like a scholar.
"We have intelligence reports."
Demons had appeared.
Not just the ones Mok Ri-won's group encountered, but across the Central Plains jianghu.
Not rogue demons dabbling in demonic arts, but those with affiliations.
Devils descending from the Ten Thousand Great Mountains beyond Xinjiang in the west.
"It seems the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult is on the move."
Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
A name that had become synonymous with terror in the Central Plains since the Three Great Heavenly Demons and I Mu-baek.
With their stirring confirmed, the Central Plains would grow even more chaotic.
"These are trying times. We need more heroes, especially young ones like dragons and phoenixes."
It wasn't mere welcoming words.
The intent was blatant enough for even oblivious Mok Ri-won to grasp.
Jegal Mu-yeon made no effort to hide it.
"We're planning to form a unit. One that will represent the young faces of the White Dao Murim."
Jegal Mu-yeon's smile deepened.
"The Murim Alliance seeks to gather dragons and phoenixes. To form a new unit with them."
The White Dao Murim needed youthful vigor and hope.
"Dragon-Phoenix Squad. We'd like to invite you to join."
The current Murim needed names to succeed the Four Saints and Six Kings.
*
In the deep inner sanctum of Shaolin.
Fist Dragon Il-un meditated in lotus position for a long while before finally opening his eyes.
Rising, he turned and bowed deeply.
"What brings you all the way here?"
There stood an old monk like an ancient tree.
But Il-un wouldn't have bowed so deeply to just any monk.
"The alliance sent word. Have you heard?"
"I follow the Abbot's will."
Shaolin's Abbot, Buddha Star Won Myeong.
The former Murim Alliance Leader and one of the absolute powers of the White Dao Murim smiled.
"You look like you want to go more than anything."
Playfulness danced on the old monk's face.
It was a boyish smile.
Il-un smiled wryly.
"...I'm ashamed of my lingering worldly attachments."
"Go."
Il-un's head snapped up.
Shock etched across his face.
Won Myeong chuckled heartily, pleased by the reaction.
"What's wrong with worldly attachments? If Buddha's will lies there, go as much as you like."
Sophistry.
But oh, such sweet sophistry.
Il-un knew.
The words Won Myeong spoke now weren't solely for Murim's justice—they also pitied his own desires.
Flustered at first, Il-un soon bowed with a teary smile.
"...Thank you."
Fist Dragon Il-un returned to the secular world.
*
Emei Mountain's Golden Summit in Sichuan.
In the temple of the Emei Sect, one of Murim's Nine Great Sects, Hye-un shouldered her bundle.
'I can't live like this anymore.'
She missed the secular world.
Delicious food, exciting atmospheres, and many other things—but above all, that.
'Men.'
She missed men.
Young, fresh men.
Fortunately, Hye-un had a perfect excuse.
A letter from the Murim Alliance.
She planned to use it to escape this place.
"Un-ah, where are you off to?"
She flinched.
Her body trembled.
Her master had sneaked up silently and was smiling, as if knowing her sneaky escape plan.
Hye-un took a deep breath and thought.
'If I fight, I'll lose for sure.'
Persuasion wouldn't work.
Only one option left.
"I'll go set Murim's justice right! Aaaah!!!"
Thud!
Hye-un bolted.
Her master burst into laughter at her vanishing like a streak of light.
"I didn't say I wouldn't let her go, so why the fuss?"
"Will she be alright?"
A nun beside her asked.
Hye-un's master replied.
"Let her go. Even lust will wear off eventually. She has to experience how futile it all is."
The wrinkled nun smiled, but the other nun smiled awkwardly.
'That girl?'
Her master seemed unaware that Hye-un could starve for food but not for men.
*
Namgung Clan's training ground.
Namgung Jincheon sheathed his sword.
Calming his breath, he opened his eyes to see the training ground floor scarred with blatant destruction.
'This is enough.'
He had mastered all the forms.
Further progress would come solely from his own training and experience.
'I'm leaving.'
A man's face flashed in Namgung Jincheon's mind.
Mok Ri-won, swinging an irresistible sword while grinning like a fool.
Namgung Jincheon's fists clenched.
'I won't lose twice.'
His eyes burned with an unprecedented competitive fire.
"Brother?"
A young girl's voice echoed.
Turning, Namgung Jincheon saw his much younger sister.
"So-a."
Namgung So-a crossed her arms, putting on a haughty face.
Yet her cheeks flushed pink, and her eyes sparkled with curiosity.
She was pretending to be aloof in the most unconvincing way.
"You're leaving?"
Even using polite speech she never had before.
It had been this way ever since she met Mok Ri-won.
Namgung Jincheon nodded indifferently.
Namgung So-a almost jumped up but held herself back and said.
"Th-Then, can So-a come too...?"
"Stay home."
Namgung Jincheon brushed past her after saying that.
She whimpered behind him, but he paid it no mind.
Proving his sword mattered more than his childish little sister's puppy love.
Emperor Sword Form.
Namgung Jincheon took up his new weapon and headed for the Murim Alliance.