Black Flame Dragon in Chaos (4)
“Oppa, someday our Yujangmun will stand tall in the jianghu too, right?”
When his sister, who was on her way to marry into a powerful family, asked that question, Jang Ujae couldn’t say a word. He alone knew how much she dreamed of roaming the jianghu more than anyone else. Still, she would force out insincere words, saying at least she’d live a smooth life marrying into wealth.
That was how Jang Ujae became a Murim Academy student through his sister’s sacrifice. Knowing she’d be happier than anyone about his acceptance, he rushed to meet her the moment he arrived at Yujangmun. But he couldn’t see her at all, nor hear any news of how she was faring.
Grand banquets hosted by the clan. Visits from academy friends he’d met. Jang Ujae spent his days in a whirlwind.
“Huh?”
Then he ran into his sister’s husband, the man she’d married. Seeing him at one side of the banquet, groping a courtesan and acting lewd, Jang Ujae’s face naturally soured.
Drunk and tossing money everywhere, coming over to the academy students to babble nonsense... Even with that arrogant behavior, Jang Ujae endured and treated his brother-in-law well.
But.
“Kya, if my wife had even half your talent, that’d be perfect.”
Doubt began to creep in from that one flattery-like remark tossed out among the academy students.
“My wife’s got no skills but a sky-high ego. I’ve been sweating bullets trying to train her. Hahaha.”
Jang Ujae was the star of the banquet, with people he had to meet lined up, but he bolted straight to the clan his sister had married into. Ignoring the servants and maids trying to stop him, he barged into her quarters and forced the door open.
“Heh...”
His sister greeted him with a wistful smile.
“Oppa, have you been well?”
She’d tried to cover the bruise on her face with makeup, but the wound was too obvious to hide.
“I heard your academy friends came this time? Now our Yujangmun’s basically a proper sect, huh?”
Just like back then, Jang Ujae couldn’t answer that day either. Realizing the position he stood in was paved by someone’s sacrifice—it cut too deep. He had no words.
“...”
Desperation filled his eyes as he headed toward Dongjeong Lake. He couldn’t let it end like this. He couldn’t collapse now. He’d already sacrificed too much. If Yujangmun fell here, not only he but his sister would never live proper lives.
“I won’t fall. No matter what, I’ll survive.”
Gazing at the boats floating on the distant black waters of Dongjeong Lake, Yujangmun vowed it over and over.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
I’m tired.
That’s what Ilgak thought.
Compared to the grueling daily training at the academy, the schedule in Akyang felt downright lazy, but the mental fatigue was heavier.
All he wanted now was to return to the academy as soon as possible and prepare for his next spar with Jin Sowoon.
But that won’t be easy now, either.
Heading to Sichuan would take at least a few weeks. They’d waste time on pointless formalities to squeeze out nonexistent results—visiting allied sects, building relations, endless banquets, repeat.
He’d once seen even this as mental discipline, but the worries had piled up too much for that.
It’s a lack of training.
The path all his seniors and masters had walked. Wasn’t it natural for him to tread it too?
Ilgak inwardly chanted Amitabha thousands, tens of thousands of times, swallowing his impatience again and again.
“Monk, time to disembark.”
At the boatman’s words, he snapped to attention. The boat had already reached the dock.
Ilgak gladly stepped off, heart light. He’d have reports waiting at the inn, but once those were done, he could squeeze in some training.
As he thought that—
“Great Monk! I’m Jang Ujae! A Murim Academy student and disciple of Yujangmun. Please help us, just once!”
He turned at the familiar name.
Familiar faces were shouting themselves hoarse amid the crowd holding them back.
“Our sect is on the brink of collapse at the hands of the black path. We desperately need aid.”
“...”
As eyes turned to Jang Ujae’s words, Hye-seong finally beckoned them closer.
“Ahem.”
Hye-seong Great Monk cleared his throat, frowning. The group bursting through the crowd reeked of stale sweat.
“Great Monk! We urgently need help from the Jeongdo Council and all righteous sects. Please, just once!”
From the fragments he’d heard, Ilgak could guess the situation. Jeomcheongpa had pulled back, and now white and black paths were clashing over control of Akyang.
The black path’s storm would hit the white path hard—especially the small sects, not the big ones.
Recalling Yujangmun wasn’t some great power, Ilgak felt pity.
“Ilgak.”
At Hye-seong Great Monk’s call, expectant of explanation, Ilgak approached quietly.
“They’re academy students.”
“From which sect?”
“Yujangmun.”
“Yujangmun?”
As Hye-seong tilted his head, Ilgak quickly added,
“A solid-rooted sect in Akyang.”
“Never seen it in the Alliance records?”
“Their Alliance activity is minimal, but I hear they’re well-regarded among the people.”
Hye-seong’s gaze shifted to Jang Ujae and his academy friends. He scrutinized their clothes, weapons, bearing, and martial prowess.
“Hm...”
At Hye-seong’s quiet hum, Ilgak pressed on.
“Especially that Jang Ujae—he’s evaluated as the representative for unaffiliated students at the academy. Not just our Jeongdo Council, but Baekdohoe and the Twelve Bongseong are all eyeing him. He’s got thick support.”
With this Akyang mess, his sect might vanish. Though unrelated to him, Ilgak grew anxious.
“Helping now would greatly aid reclaiming an academy representative spot later.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, indeed.”
Hye-seong eyed Ilgak steadily.
“You, usually clueless about politics and relations—why the sudden silver tongue today?”
“...”
Hye-seong Great Monk shook his head.
“That too is a worry.”
“...”
Hye-seong stepped forward and spoke in a resonant voice.
“Young patron, please rise.”
“Great Monk! We’ll pay any price later. Please help us, just once!”
Desperation flickered on Jang Ujae’s face, grasping at faint hope.
“The Buddha seeks no price from you. Have you requested aid from the Alliance’s Akyang branch?”
“Yes. We went straight there first. But the branch lacks manpower to face all of Akyang’s black path.”
A branch with limited staff couldn’t intimidate the black path, especially not when they had free rein like now.
Jang Ujae pleaded again.
“After war with the black path breaks out will be too late. We need immediate help, Great Monk.”
Ilgak chimed in unwittingly.
“He’s right, Monk. If the black path seizes Akyang before the Alliance moves, small sects like...”
Hye-seong slowly turned, staring at Ilgak.
“...”
That expressionless face felt like the King of Hell’s; Ilgak swallowed hard.
“...S-sorry.”
Hye-seong resumed in a solemn tone.
“The black path’s outrages have plunged the world into chaos for more than a day or two. That the Buddha’s grace doesn’t reach everywhere is this monk’s deepest regret.”
Not just the academy students—spectators, boat-goers—all eyes turned to Hye-seong.
“Nor does the Buddha ever turn from suffering beings seeking salvation.”
Hye-seong’s gaze shifted from the students to the crowd.
“Anywhere, anytime, if one calls for the Buddha’s aid—even in the deepest hell—the Buddha’s hand will reach.”
The listeners erupted in cheers.
“““Woooaaah!”””
As the excitement died, Hye-seong smiled kindly at Jang Ujae.
“So rest easy and return, patron.”
“Y-you’ll help?”
“Didn’t I just say? The Buddha’s grace will reach you wherever you are.”
At Hye-seong’s vague words, Jang Ujae bowed deeply again.
“Word is Mokhyeolbang plans to attack our sect soon.”
Hye-seong nodded.
“The moment I return to the Alliance, I’ll convene a meeting and prioritize this.”
“Pardon?”
Jang Ujae’s face twisted. What difference from the Akyang branch handling it?
“Gr-Great Monk! Yujangmun stands on the brink of ruin. That won’t...”
“Patron.”
Hye-seong’s voice carried dense inner energy—a golden command that squeezed the soul like a massive weight just hearing it. Even the crowd felt his presence and fell silent.
“Didn’t this monk say? No place escapes the Buddha’s hand.”
“...”
“But all things in this world have order.”
Trembling, Jang Ujae desperately spoke.
“Th-then... could you visit our sect? Your presence alone would rattle the black path.”
Ilgak inwardly marveled at Jang Ujae. Overcoming Hye-seong’s golden command—one of Shaolin’s finest? It spoke to his desperation.
“...”
Knowing yet powerless, Ilgak felt deep self-loathing.
“...I wish I could, but a critical matter demanding every moment prevents it. Understand.”
“Gr-Great Monk!”
“Worry not. You and your sect will surely be under the Buddha’s grace.”
As Hye-seong turned to leave—
“What’s this crap?”
A voice shattered the silence across the dock.
“People still pull this nonsense these days?”
A man and woman in their mid-forties strode from the dock. The lead man waved his hand through the air, and people sighed in relief as the oppressive pressure lifted.
“...”
Hye-seong’s gaze turned to the man who’d dispelled his golden command. Sly-looking, sneering expression. Leisurely demeanor unfit for his age.
He knew the man.
The man eyed Hye-seong.
“That ‘under the Buddha’s grace’ bit. What, pray hard and Mokhyeolbang backs off on its own? That it?”
“...”
The man casually positioned himself between Hye-seong’s group and Jang Ujae’s.
“Nah, right? If chanting Amitabha solved everything, why does the Murim Alliance exist? Why do black path forces still roam the jianghu?”
His eyes swept the crowd.
“Shaolin not praying enough?”
Hye-seong’s entourage and spectators paled, staring at the man.
“Who the hell is that?”
“Crazy bastard?”
“Daring to speak so irreverently to Shaolin’s great monk Hye-seong...”
Whispers rose. Who was this guy with guts bigger than his brain?
And the answer came unexpectedly from Hye-seong himself.
“Patron Jin Sowoon...”
The man called Jin Sowoon scowled deeply.
“Told you before—don’t ‘patron’ a Daoist sect disciple. Seriously.”