The Grace-Loyalty Pact
The Grace Pact.
The moment that word reached his ears, Namgung Cheon felt a strange sense of déjà vu. And then, soon enough, another phrase surfaced in his mind.
They call it the Blue Cloud Pact, don't they.
It was the strategy of the Nambyeok Merchant Troupe, which he had encountered some time ago in connection with the Baekcheon Merchant Troupe's affairs—sponsoring talented but impoverished scholars, only to later turn them into the sturdy ramparts of their own fortress.
Back then, he had been rather impressed by the vision and cunning behind it. For a merchant winning people over through favors, it was a remarkably meaningful investment.
But this is different.
Namgung Cheon's eyes narrowed. On the surface it looked similar, yet the substance was the exact opposite. If the Blue Cloud Pact was a way of watering a seedling in barren soil and raising it into a great tree, then the Grace Pact that Jo Jageon was now extending was—
Like pouring poison into roots that are already rotting.
It was not meant to save anyone. The aim was to wither the victim away faster and more surely, and then devour even the stump that remained.
When Namgung Seon said nothing, Jo Jageon continued his explanation with a gentle smile.
"This may be the first you've heard of it. But please don't think of it as anything complicated—just consider it patronage. It's a fine thing, helping a comrade who, like yourself, Branch Master, has fallen on hard times but has a bright future ahead."
"……What exactly do you mean by patronage?"
At Namgung Seon's words, Jo Jageon unfolded his fingers one by one as he spoke.
"Allow me to explain why I put it that way. First, there is no interest. Inflating one's belly with the blood and sweat of a comrade is not the way of commerce."
Namgung Seon's eyes widened.
"Is that true?"
"That is not all. Second, there is no repayment deadline either. Once you get back on your feet, you may return it then. And even if you should fail again, we will demand nothing. We will simply grieve alongside you."
It was an absurd set of terms. A contract that could not exist in this world. A flicker of suspicion crossed Namgung Seon's face.
"What in the world are you counting on to run a scheme like this?"
As if he had been waiting for precisely that question, Jo Jageon's smile deepened all the more.
"There is only one thing we desire."
He lifted his teacup and looked at Namgung Seon over its rim.
"That you do not forget the grace we extend today, and that when we one day need your help, you show us that same loyalty. That is all."
The moment he heard those words, Namgung Cheon, hidden beneath the bamboo blinds, grasped the structure of this cunning trap.
Just as I thought.
The Blue Cloud Pact and the Grace Pact were different. Where the Blue Cloud Pact was an investment in a promising seedling, the Grace Pact took the form of salvation—a hand extended to someone driven to the edge of a cliff.
And the moment that hand was taken, the debtor would owe the Taeju Merchant Troupe, his self-proclaimed savior, an enormous debt.
Loyalty? It was laughable.
What they want is not loyalty. It's obedience.
In place of the tangible shackles of money, they fitted their prey with an intangible collar woven from grace and obligation. A faint sneer touched Namgung Cheon's lips.
A trick worthy of the Orthodox sects.
He immediately sent a secret transmission to Namgung Seon.
—Refuse. But refuse like a martial artist.
Receiving the transmission, Namgung Seon closed his eyes for a moment. Then, as though he had made up his mind about something, he snapped them open and spoke.
"Your proposal is truly extraordinary, Grand Manager. I, Namgung Seon, am grateful for the hand offered me at my most desperate hour."
He assumed a respectful fist-and-palm salute.
"But I am not a merchant—I am a martial artist. For a warrior, grace and obligation are, by their nature, given and received without price. To give and take something alongside a contract like this can no longer be called grace."
"……"
Jo Jageon's eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly. A fish he had believed fully caught was summoning its last strength to spit out the hook. And yet a smile bloomed across his face instead.
"Heh heh. The Namgung Clan truly is different. Very well. I had no intention of forcing the matter."
He continued with the ease of a man who had foreseen every turn of the conversation.
"However……"
Jo Jageon set down his teacup.
"Your mind may yet change. After all, money that never existed cannot simply fall from the sky."
He drew a small black wooden tablet from his robes and placed it on the table.
"Tonight, there will be a gathering of the Grace Pact in the annex of the merchant estate. It is a gathering hosted by the Chief Administrator of the Troupe himself."
Jo Jageon's sharp eyes regarded Namgung Seon in silence.
"Should your heart change…… bring this tablet with you. You will likely meet some people there whom the Branch Master would be curious to see."
With those final words, Jo Jageon rose from his seat. As he turned to leave the reception room, he stopped abruptly, as if something had just occurred to him.
"Ah, and one more thing."
He turned his head slightly to look at Namgung Seon.
"The investment matter you spoke of earlier—let us pretend it never happened."
The corner of his mouth curled upward.
"This fine venture is to be shared only with those who stand with us."
Thud.
The door of the reception room closed. A heavy silence settled over the room.
Namgung Seon's face flushed crimson with humiliation, and his fists trembled. Before long, as though resigned to everything, he bowed his head deep.
"……I am sorry. Whatever punishment you see fit, I will accept it gladly."
But Namgung Cheon did not answer his apology. He simply gazed quietly at the black wooden tablet Jo Jageon had left behind.
The Grace Pact.
Its name sounded respectable, but in truth it was an enormous snare for binding people with debt. And he had also learned that the snare did not hang over the Namgung Clan alone.
Beneath the bamboo blinds, a cold smile formed on Namgung Cheon's lips.
"Those who stand with us," was it?
"I'll have to find out."
Namgung Cheon said quietly. Namgung Rin challenged the words.
"……Find out what?"
Namgung Cheon picked up the black wooden tablet from the table.
"Who has fallen for this trick……"
A crimson glow rippled in his eyes.
"And what sort of creature this Chief Administrator really is."
By the time darkness swallowed the streets of Kaifeng, Namgung Cheon stood alone atop the roof of a tower across from the Taeju Merchant Troupe estate, overlooking it.
The cold night wind idly stirred the hem of his black garments. His gaze was fixed on the vast estate, submerged in darkness.
Most of the halls lay drowned in deep shadow, but one building at the very heart of the compound blazed with light as bright as midday.
So that must be the annex.
He had confirmed his target, but he could not carelessly approach it—because of the qi formation enveloping the entire estate: the Eight Trigrams Soul-Confusing Formation.
It was a basic formation that disoriented intruders and showed them illusions, yet its scale and the malevolent aura it exuded were beyond imagination. The martial artists stationed throughout the array—especially those positioned around the Gate of Life—were nuisances in their own right.
They moved at fixed intervals, each covering the gaps in the formation for the others, guarding the estate like one enormous net.
Getting in would be no simple matter. Neither would getting out.
Entering through the front gate would be a fool's errand.
The formation's power was strongest there, and the patrols were the tightest as well. Namgung Cheon's gaze drifted naturally toward the rear garden of the estate—the place where the formation's force seemed weakest and the guards fewest, the most thinly defended point.
But he soon shook his head.
A trap.
The formation held not even a hair's breadth of opening there.
They never left a way in or out in the first place.
That left a single path.
His gaze turned to the eastern wall of the estate, its darkest and most inconspicuous corner—the point where the patrol routes of the guards intersected. Perhaps for that very reason, a minute crack existed in the formation there as well. If he could deceive only the eyes of the guards, it was a flawless route of infiltration.
Then……
Namgung Cheon closed his eyes and recalled the principles of the countless stealth arts he had mastered in his past life. The finest among them, without question, had been the Shadowless Stealth Art used by the Demonic Cult's premier assassin cohort—the Black Shadow Unit.
It isn't a stealth art built on demonic qi, so it will serve well enough.
Namgung Cheon slowly recited the mantra of the Shadowless Stealth Art.
"With one step, I erase myself; all things under heaven become my shadow."
With a single step I erase myself, and all the world becomes my shadow.
The instant the mantra left his lips, Namgung Cheon's presence began to blur. And soon—
That should be enough.
Every trace of sound and energy had vanished completely.
Whoosh.
At the same moment, his body soundlessly kicked off the rooftop and soared into the empty air. A single streak of shadow cleaving the jet-black night sky—he flew toward the eastern wall of the estate in the blink of an eye.
And then—
Now.
The instant four guards passed beneath the wall, Namgung Cheon's form drifted serenely over their heads. Thus entering the compound's interior, he moved soundlessly across the rooftops toward the annex.
Formations were laid out everywhere, but—
One tile left.
Tap.
Three right this time.
Pat, pat, pat.
He picked his way toward the Gate of Life as lightly as if he had walked the path a hundred times before. After proceeding cautiously for a long while—
This is the place.
Namgung Cheon's steps came to a halt atop the annex roof. He carefully lifted a single roof tile and peered through the gap into the room below.
What met his eyes was a bizarre sight. A dozen or more figures sat in their places within the lavishly appointed chamber.
A banquet, by all rights, should have resounded with lively chatter and the clinking of cups. But the room held nothing but a heavy silence; they were simply drinking in silence, one cup after another.
Namgung Cheon's gaze swept over their attire. Robes embroidered with pine trees, golden battle garb—familiar colors met his eye.
The Wudang Sect, the Hwangbo Clan…… even the Jegal Clan is here.
Something was wrong. For a secret gathering, they ought to have veiled their faces or disguised themselves in plain clothes. Instead, they flaunted the robes of their sects and clans as if to be seen.
……Don't tell me.
A deep furrow carved itself between Namgung Cheon's brows.
They mean for each of them to hold the others' weaknesses.
Accomplices. There was no surer shackle than this.
Each man's identity laid unmistakably bare. That was, in effect, a silent warning that no one in that room could ever withdraw—a dagger pressed to each of their necks in turn.
Vicious bastards.
Just as Namgung Cheon shook his head at their ruthlessness—
Hummmm—.
"……!"
Every nerve in his body suddenly bristled, and the energy of the Great Void Heart-Protecting Art began to move on its own. At the same moment—
Thud. Thud.
Footsteps came echoing down the far end of the corridor, heavy enough to shake the earth itself.
It was clearly the footfall of a single person. Yet each step rocked the pillars of the annex and sent gooseflesh crawling over Namgung Cheon's whole body as he held his breath atop the roof.
A naked display of one's own martial prowess. In ordinary men, that amounted to nothing more than the crude posturing of third-rate fighters. But the oppressive weight carried in these footsteps was of an entirely different order.
At the very least…… the Transcendent Realm.
No—perhaps even—
His equal.
And then—
Thud—.
At the sound of the door opening, everyone in the room rose from their seats in perfect unison, as though by prior agreement. Bowing deeply toward the door, they thundered out with a single voice:
"We greet the Chief Administrator!"
—
Namgung Cheonma (The Heavenly Demon of Namgung)
Author | Baek Ri-haeng
Publisher | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd.
Managing Editor | Editorial Department
Imprint | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. — Dreambooks
Address | 7F, Gwangseong Building, 28 Bongeunsa-ro 114-gil, Gangnam-gu, Seoul
ISBN | 979-11-7306-734-1
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No portion of this book may be used, in any form or by any means, without the written permission of Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. — Dreambooks.