The Shadow at Chwiseonru
Before long, the pitch-black darkness retreated, and a faint dawn spread across the rooftops of the Gold Pavilion.
But Baek Duguang had not slept a wink all night.
His bloodshot eyes were fixed on the dim light beyond the window.
They will be here soon.
The mysterious ones who had annihilated the Black Dragon Lair, the Flying Dagger Bureau, and the Mad Blood Sect.
He recalled the nightmare he had lived through in Gangseo long ago.
Would he abandon everything once more and run, just as he had then?
Or would it all end here?
After a night of torment, as the sky began to pale, he finally made his decision.
Baek Duguang summoned every core member of the Gold Pavilion to the hall master's chamber.
At the sight of his uncharacteristically grave bearing, a heavy silence settled over the room.
"You've all heard by now," he said, parting his parched lips. "Last night, the Black Dragon Lair, the Flying Dagger Bureau, and the Mad Blood Sect were all wiped out. We'll be next."
Baek Duguang's gaze swept across the faces of his men one by one.
These were the ones who had trusted him and followed him all this way.
"I am staying here," he said in a low voice. "But I can't drag the rest of you down with me. Anyone who wants to run, leave now. I won't hold it against you. Check the ledgers and take what you feel is your fair share."
When he finished, the atmosphere in the room grew heavier still.
Everyone just glanced nervously at one another, and not a single person moved.
Baek Duguang shouted in frustration. "Why are you all just standing there gawping! Check the ledgers, grab anything worth money, and get going already!"
"Well... Hall Master, sir."
"...Right. You first. Don't you have a family?"
"That's the thing... if we can't actually read the ledgers, how are we supposed to take the right things?"
Before the man had even finished speaking, the other hall members chimed in one after another as if they'd been waiting for their cue.
"That's right! What if we grabbed the wrong thing and walked off with an IOU instead!"
"Is that pot expensive, or is that scroll expensive? How would we know!"
Baek Duguang stared blankly at the absurd scene before him.
Excuses.
Clumsy, half-witted, idiotic excuses.
It was true they couldn't read.
But the room was littered with valuables and silver coins.
All they'd have to do is grab and run.
And yet they were not leaving.
Instead of sickeningly sentimental talk about dying together or honoring their bond, they were telling him in the most characteristically blunt way they knew that they meant to stay by his side.
Baek Duguang let out a hollow laugh and nodded. "You ignorant fools..."
But that ignorant, foolish sincerity set his heart ablaze.
"Fine, then. What could a bunch of illiterates even do out there, anyway?"
He set everything down.
And he resolved to accept it —
the fate that was coming for him.
Then—
Thud!
A crash echoed up from the floor below.
A short scream followed, then chaos.
Baek Duguang's heart plummeted.
They're here!
The moment he leaped to his feet, the door to the hall master's chamber burst open.
But it was not the enemy who entered.
"H-Hall Master! Some men—!"
The subordinate's report ended there.
A shadow that appeared behind him struck the back of his neck, and the man crumpled forward, unconscious.
Thud.
A long shadow fell across the fallen man's body.
And then two men appeared.
Baek Duguang doubted his own eyes.
Namgung Cheon, the third young master of the Namgung Clan — and behind him, Mujin of the Jeokmyeol Sword.
So it was them! It was these men who swept away the Black Dragon Lair!
As everyone in the room froze solid, Namgung Cheon slowly turned his head and gave the chamber an unhurried survey.
Then his indifferent gaze came to rest on Baek Duguang.
In that instant, Baek Duguang's breath caught in his throat.
An overwhelming presence that made every hair on his body stand on end.
The pressure was on an entirely different plane from anything he had imagined through rumor alone.
Fight, and I die. No question.
The option of fighting was erased from Baek Duguang's mind.
One choice remained.
Thud!
Baek Duguang dropped to his knees without hesitation.
"Baek Duguang, Hall Master of the Gold Pavilion, greets the young master of Namgung!"
At his sudden action, even Mujin faltered for a moment, at a loss for words.
A complete surrender — no resistance, no defiance.
At least my men must live!
Baek Duguang thought back to that day in Gangseo.
To the last moments of his comrades, slaughtered without mercy.
Meaningless resistance only spills more blood.
Especially the blood of the men who trusted and followed him.
So ending everything with the life of the hall master himself — that was the final duty he could perform for the subordinates who had believed in him until now.
Forehead pressed to the floor, he raised his voice.
"I know you've come to kill me! But my men are guilty of nothing except following me — so I beg you, end it with this one life of mine!"
His voice rang so loudly it echoed off the walls of the hall master's chamber.
Yet Namgung Cheon gave no reply.
He stared at Baek Duguang for a moment, then walked over to the ledger book lying sprawled on the floor.
Swipe.
And he began casually flipping through it.
"..."
Baek Duguang swallowed dryly.
Why won't he say anything!
Cold sweat trickled down his spine.
Just as the sound of turning pages was the only thing filling the room, Namgung Cheon spoke.
"You have a decent knack for the money business."
It was an unexpected opening.
Unable to tell whether it was praise or mockery, Baek Duguang lifted his head slowly, bewildered.
Namgung Cheon went on. "I did not come to kill you."
"...I beg your pardon?"
The protest slipped out of Baek Duguang's mouth before he could stop it.
If not to kill him, then why on earth—
Namgung Cheon snapped the ledger shut with a sharp thap.
Still looking down at the kneeling Baek Duguang, he came to the point. "Clean up the underworld of Anhui. That's your job now."
"...!"
Baek Duguang doubted his own ears. The man who had resigned himself to losing his head moments ago was being handed the supremacy of Anhui's underworld.
And by the third young master of the Namgung Clan, no less.
The absolute ruler of Anhui itself.
It was certainly no idle boast.
Which meant—
...This is a chance.
And yet a question gnawed at him.
"Why me...?"
At his trembling question, Namgung Cheon recalled the information gleaned through the Haomen.
Baek Duguang, Hall Master of the Gold Pavilion.
His greed for money was boundless, but he never crossed the line that must not be crossed.
At the very least, he was a different breed from the beasts who sold children into slavery.
That was not all.
— Baek Duguang. Peak Realm master. Has recruited skilled wandering swordsmen in large numbers with money, and is systematically training them in martial arts to solidify the organization's foundation.
Namgung Cheon glanced at the hall members kneeling in the corner of the room.
They looked like a ragtag rabble, but a solid foundation of internal energy sat in their lower dantians.
They were a different class of men entirely from the bandits of the Black Dragon Lair.
Muscle, money, and at least a bottom line.
That was enough.
Having finished his assessment, Namgung Cheon answered flatly. "You were the least repulsive of the lot."
With that final word, he turned away without a shred of lingering attachment.
Baek Duguang simply stared, still kneeling, at the receding figure's back.
Creak... thud.
A long while passed.
Only after Namgung Cheon's presence had vanished completely did Baek Duguang carefully open his mouth.
"...I-Is he gone?"
When Baek Duguang asked in a trembling voice, Naeng Cheolsan, standing beside him, quietly nodded.
And in that very moment—
"Heh heh... AHAHAHAHAHA!"
As if he had never once braced for death, Baek Duguang sprang up from where he knelt and erupted into mad laughter.
At his sudden outburst, all his subordinates could only stare at him in bewilderment.
"We're alive! We lived, you idiots!"
He ran wild around the room, shouting.
Then, abruptly, he grabbed the shoulders of Naeng Cheolsan, who was still standing there in a daze. "Cheolsan! Did you hear it! I! Baek Duguang is going to be the head of Anhui's underworld!"
"Hall Master, compose yourself. You're too loud."
Even Naeng Cheolsan's calm words did nothing to cool his excitement. "Compose myself, at a time like this! Hey, Cheolgwi! Go tear down the Geumokru sign right now and have a new one carved — Great Money Hall! No, wait, would Golden Hall look more impressive? Whatever — just get the most expensive, most gleaming thing you can find!"
After cackling for a good while, Baek Duguang looked at the ever-quiet Naeng Cheolsan and declared triumphantly, "Cheolsan! From today on, we're not the Gold Pavilion anymore — we're the Golden Hall! Hahaha!"
Naeng Cheolsan, who had been silently tidying the scattered ledgers at his side, pressed a finger firmly down on one entry and spoke without so much as lifting his head. "Understood. I will deduct the cost of the new signboard from your salary next month, Hall Master."
"...What?"
"If the Hall Master ordered it as a personal matter, then naturally it should be processed as a personal expense."
In an instant, Baek Duguang's boisterous laughter cut off dead.
The face of a man who seemed to own the world crumpled in a heartbeat.
At last, Baek Duguang forced an air of composure and cleared his throat. "...Ahem! Now that I think of it, 'Golden Hall' does make us sound like a pack of money-grubbers."
Naeng Cheolsan looked up at him with a faint, hollow smile.
"Gold Pavilion. Yes, our current name is just right. Warm. Down to earth. Wouldn't you say, Cheolsan?"
Even as he said it, Baek Duguang's shoulders hung in defeat.
The topmost floor of Chwiseonru, the most splendid and imposing tower in all of Hefei.
At the center of the room, a middle-aged man clad in jet-black robes sat alone, drinking tea.
One of the ten armed units possessed by the Four Black Alliance —
Ak Mookyeol, Squad Leader of the Black Wind Squad, known as the Black Ghost Saber.
Before him, a subordinate knelt with an investigative report unrolled across the table.
The long briefing had only just concluded.
"...You are dismissed."
At Ak Mookyeol's words, the subordinate carefully placed the report on the table and withdrew from the room.
Left alone, Ak Mookyeol raised his teacup in silence.
Namgung Cheon...
The report his subordinate had delivered moments ago still echoed vividly in his ears.
A duel immediately after the Sword Selection. Gwak San of the Thunderbolt Sect, Gal Museong the Blood Demon Sword... and last of all, Mujin of the Jeokmyeol Sword.
Every name in that report belonged to a formidable man.
And then there was Mujin himself.
The sole disciple of Nangwang — a Transcendent Realm master even Ak Mookyeol could not guarantee victory against.
And he brought down men like those in barely ten days.
Ak Mookyeol's brow furrowed deep.
And on top of that, he annihilated three sects in less than two days.
It was impossible to believe that all of this had been the work of a green youth barely past his twentieth year.
Even with the Heavenly Martial Body, that talent said to be a gift from heaven, reaching the Transcendent Realm at twenty was next to impossible.
It was a realm one could only touch after decades of brutal, blood-soaked training, layered with brushes with death.
Yet Namgung Cheon had attained it.
Like a dragon long asleep, awakened at last to a thunderous roar.
This is not a domain that can be explained away by fortune or talent.
It defied reason. It flew in the face of all common sense.
Ak Mookyeol sank into thought.
That the tribute-paying gangs were killed is no real problem.
Money could always be squeezed out of somewhere else.
But...
Namgung Cheon.
What, exactly, had driven that man to shatter every convention and announce his existence to the world so openly?
"The Gold Pavilion was the only one to survive, was it."
At his murmur, the vice squad leader who had been standing behind him like a shadow answered quietly. "Yes. Curiously, the Gold Pavilion alone was left untouched."
"Tomorrow morning, go to the Gold Pavilion. Whatever it takes, you must uncover Namgung Cheon's intentions."
"I receive your orders!"
It was the very moment the vice squad leader answered and turned to withdraw—
Whoosh.
A sinister wind slipped through the window's gap and buffeted the oil lamp on the table.
The shadows in the room stretched long all at once, then rippled back to their places.
That was all.
And yet Ak Mookyeol's eyes narrowed.
Beside his own shadow cast on the wall, another shadow lay overlapped.
Had the lamp not swayed, he would never have noticed it at all.
Ak Mookyeol spoke in a low voice. "How long have you been there."
At his words, the vice squad leader whipped around in shock.
The hands of the Black Wind Squad members shot to the hilts at their waists in unison.
Then a voice flowed out from within the shadow. "Quite a while."
Along with the voice, a figure emerged slowly from the darkness.
The man of the report, two swords at his waist.
It was Namgung Cheon.
He strode with perfect calm to the seat directly across from Ak Mookyeol and sat down.
"I heard you were looking for me."
Namgung Cheon met Ak Mookyeol's stare head-on, the corner of his mouth lifting.
"As it happens, that suits me well enough. I had something to say, too."
Author | Baek Rihang
Publisher | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd.
Editorial Director | Editorial Department
Published by | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. — Dream Books
Address | 7F, Gwangseong Building, 28 Bongeunsa-ro 114-gil, Gangnam-gu, Seoul
ISBN | 979-11-7306-734-1
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Twitter (X) | @dreambookss
Submissions | [email protected]
No part of this book may be used in any form or by any means without the written permission of Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. — Dream Books.