#114. Black Path Night March (4)
“Crazy bastard……”
As expected of a Black Dao overlord, Chaseokdu lived with curses perpetually on his lips. But the feeling that a similar curse had slipped from Seong Moran’s mouth behind him was probably just because his body was in such bad shape.
No matter how you sliced it, his current condition wasn’t fit for continuing the exam. If he forced it, he might scrape by and complete the test somehow, but he’d end up with deep damage to his dantian—like the Green Forest Bandit King—and wouldn’t be able to live a proper life afterward.
In the end, the best option now was to move Sahwangbong.
“……Huh……”
Chaseokdu, who had maintained his stern demeanor until now, forgot his subordinates were watching from all sides and gaped like a statue.
He had no choice. He never imagined the thing he desired most would come out of his mouth.
The Black Dao Murim had long wished for an alliance like the Murim Alliance. But with power balanced too evenly for any one to take the center, and immediate losses outweighing alliance benefits, their simple, loss-averse mindset saw it as pointless damage.
In the end, a Black Dao alliance only formed after the Demonic Cult’s invasion fully ramped up and most Black Dao forces were half-destroyed. But that half-baked league lasted even shorter than the Murim Alliance—barely a stopgap that bought no time.
“Without an overwhelmingly powerful figure, the best way to form an alliance is through public discourse and justification. Consider how the Murim Alliance endured five hundred years on the pretext of repelling the Demonic Cult, the very cause at its founding. It should be easy.”
Chaseokdu, dazed for a long while, mumbled and continued.
“We publicize the Ma-ryeong Plateau incident?”
“Yes. Many in the Black Dao Murim already chafe under the Murim Alliance’s dominance of the jianghu. Every Murim Regular Exam, most Black Dao sects go into hiding—doesn’t that prove it?”
“But the Ma-ryeong Plateau happened half a year ago.”
“Public discourse and justification can latch onto anything. Is the Murim Alliance’s current justification still eradicating the Demonic Cult?”
“……I’ve considered it too. But the real issue is what comes after. Even if we form a Black Dao alliance, there’s no guarantee people will flock and build strength like in the Murim Alliance.”
This was the biggest reason the Black Dao alliance collapsed. The Murim Alliance drew people naturally, fostering competition within, then spreading out to strengthen it further. An established system perpetuated its power.
The Black Dao alliance lacked that. Worse, the deepest mindset etched in Black Dao heads was law of the jungle. As long as that ruled, they’d ignore any painstakingly built system or hierarchy.
Chaseokdu’s biggest worry as Sahwangbong Lord was surely gathering people—and making them follow rank and structure.
“That’s actually not hard.”
“……Not hard?”
Chaseokdu’s eyelids twitched, and he unwittingly leaned forward half a step.
“Merit-based advancement.”
“……What’s that different from chaos?”
“It’s entirely different. Guarantee a path to promotion for anyone. No matter their origin or affiliation, if they have the skill, open the road to rise completely freely.”
“…….”
“What’s the Murim Alliance’s greatest flaw? Advancement and benefits tied to origins like the Nine Great Sects, Five Great Families, or 108 Peaks. The Black Dao alliance breaks free entirely. Endless competition and growth will solidify its structure.”
“…….”
Not just Chaseokdu—even Sahwangbong’s experts watched with complicated eyes, deep in thought. Chaseokdu finally spoke after a long pause.
“A demonstration for that?”
“Yes.”
“But I don’t get this non-violent protest business.”
“All warriors disarm, wear only black uniforms, carry black flags. In the center, bear a bier and march to Muhwan. This march honors the dead from Ma-ryeong Plateau.”
“……It’ll be bizarre.”
“That’s why the jianghu’s eyes will turn to it.”
“……And you’ll join too?”
“I can’t hold back my grief for Ma-ryeong’s dead either.”
“…….”
From the side, Huang Bushi spoke up.
“Lord, whatever happens, this march lets us see the Orthodox fools’ stunned faces.”
Starting with him, the standing experts chimed in one by one.
“Nothing condemns their inaction better.”
“They didn’t help—only hindered. Still boils my blood.”
“Yes. Worth trying.”
As positive words erupted, relief dawned on our group’s faces. Chaseokdu, nodding long, flicked his hand to silence them.
“Good idea. Fitting for the Black Dao Divine Dragon, Black Flame Dragon. But why now? Won’t your involvement taint our justification?”
“…….”
“Better after the exam ends, timed right.”
True to a Black Dao overlord, he knew how to maximize gain. But if I’d planned to just steal ideas and leave, I wouldn’t have come.
“Can you pull that off?”
“Better than rushing now, right?”
“No, I mean—do you have confidence convincing thick-headed Black Dao bastards?”
“…….”
The experts who’d agreed moments ago now glared coldly.
“How many even grasp public discourse and justification—let alone agree? And agree to you monopolizing it?”
Had Chaseokdu lacked justification all this time? No—none understood his grand vision, or their greed outweighed it, so they never joined.
“If you can, great. I’ve done all I can anyway. I’ll surrender, forfeit the exam.”
“…….”
“Thanks for the hospitality. See you next time.”
As I turned, leading our dazed group three steps away—
“W-Wait!”
“…….”
The stern Chaseokdu had stepped forward.
“You have a way?”
“Can’t make them understand justification or discourse, but I can move them.”
“How?”
I unwrapped the bundle in my hand.
Plop, plop-plop.
Prestige tokens from Black Dao luminaries—like those who gave me tokens at Ma-ryeong Plateau, same as Chaseokdu’s. They scattered carelessly across Sahwangbong’s grand hall floor.
“Heh heh, Young Master Jin should get up soon.”
Gang Seopyo, speaking, couldn’t suppress his grin—his lips quivered. Watching him irked Cho Mubin plenty.
After talking with Chaseokdu, Jin Sowoon collapsed again upon leaving the hall. Namgung Seonhwa volunteered to nurse him.
With Sahwangbong maids, servants, and a resident physician around—something embarrassing—yet Namgung Seonhwa clung to Jin Sowoon undeterred, blind to onlookers.
Cho Mubin fretted for Jin Sowoon’s well-being, but couldn’t help bristling at Gang Seopyo’s snickering.
“That funny to you?”
“What?”
“If Young Master Jin completes the exam with Sahwangbong’s help, doesn’t that cause issues?”
Listening nearby, Baek Woneum nodded.
“Some might question the results. Orthodox’s main foes are Black Dao. Sahwangbong’s the top Black Dao power. If this sparks a real Black Dao alliance……”
“Exactly.”
Gang Seopyo smiled meaningfully at their words.
“But you only know half the story.”
“What?”
“The exam seems crucial now, but long-term? Not really.”
“What’s that mean?”
Gang Seopyo clucked his tongue pityingly.
“How’ll you ever escape deputy captain forever?”
“…….”
“…….”
“Yesterday, you felt Sahwangbong Lord aligns with Young Master Jin, right?”
The need for Black Dao alliance was perennial talk; both nodded.
“If this births one?”
“Murim Alliance in uproar.”
“Right. Maybe war. But it’ll form eventually. Jianghu’s shifting that way. Black Dao, oppressed so long, awaits any spark.”
“……You seem thrilled at a Black Dao alliance?”
“Hear me out. Sahwangbong leads it—obvious. Then, how should Murim Alliance contact them?”
“……!”
“……!”
Gang Seopyo continued.
“Murim Alliance suppressed Black Dao forces—no direct links possible at first. Need someone connected to both……”
“Tae-eul Gate.”
“And Young Master Jin.”
“Exactly.”
His words deepened Cho Mubin and Baek Woneum’s turmoil. In hindsight, visiting Sahwangbong mid-exam felt no coincidence.
“Biggest issue: whether Sahwangbong commits……”
Moving during a Murim Alliance event was risky. A disarmed protest? Could invite Black Dao purge.
“That’s why they’re still debating.”
Four days in—no word from Sahwangbong.
“We must decide soon too.”
Exam end neared. Dragging longer risked total failure.
Thud-thud-thud.
The three, squatting in the yard sketching and talking, rose as one, eyeing the entrance.
A giant ducked low to enter—too huge for the door. Huang Bushi, the brute. His bulging eyes scanned them.
“Where’s Black Flame Dragon?”
“Still……”
Then the inner chamber door opened; Namgung Seonhwa emerged.
“Young Master Jin’s waiting.”
“Awake?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
They watched Huang Bushi enter the chamber with bated breath.
Thousands of warriors gathered near Daebyeol Mountain in Henan glared sharply at Sahwangbong.
Inside lay chunks of entry tokens—their sects’ path to glory.
Sect elders ordered cooperation with others to retrieve them—but added not to lose in competition, sparking covert rivalries.
But days dragged. Nearing five, fatigue set in.
Unprepared for camping, they crammed scarce inns nearby. Supplies dwindled; merchants jacked prices, no time to fetch from villages—forced to pay up.
Biggest pressure: exam deadline looming.
“How long we waiting?”
“We’ll flunk too at this rate.”
“Maybe that’s their plan?”
What was that Orthodox nobody doing inside Sahwangbong?
“Raid it instead?”
“You mad?”
“Sahwangbong already disrupts Alliance event—clear violation.”
Stuck, ire turned to Tae-eul Gate, Iron Sword Sect, Namgung Family.
“Rootless punk struts in exam—ruining its meaning.”
“Not just that. Real issue: Namgung and Moyong backing them.”
“Five Families unworthy beside Nine Sects.”
Sixth day. Nine Sects reps gathered to decide next moves.
“After today, Jin Sowoon’s group flunks anyway—wait more.”
“Sahwangbong’s moving!”
“They finally eject Jin Sowoon?”
All near Daebyeol Mountain—for emergencies—drew swords in unison. Blades filled every direction like a forest.
Prepped for Sahwangbong exam interference.
“Battle stations!”
At the shout, thousands channeled qi, blasting killing intent at Sahwangbong.
Screech. Thud.
Hundreds slowly emerged from Sahwangbong.
“……W-What……”
“No way……”
Battle-ready warriors dropped swords, staring.
“……A bier?”
Hundreds in black uniforms, bier centered, began a long march.