Tomorrow's Fortune (4)
I had planned to attend the banquet with only Dang Seohui, the Geomim Sanggung, but Ilmyeong insisted on coming along.
"It's a gathering of all the black path's divine beings, so it could be dangerous for you to go alone, Benefactor Jin."
Gun Yuhyeon agreed, saying it was for the best, and we followed his lead to a grand hall on the outskirts of Sahyeokryeon.
Unlike the other buildings, this one to the north of the main hall had clearly received meticulous exterior finishing—luxurious and refined, signaling right away that it was reserved for esteemed guests.
Once inside, impeccably mannered attendants guided us to the deepest chamber in the hall, a vast audience room.
A long table dominated the center, laden with every delicacy imaginable. With nothing else in the enormous space, the guests' boisterous chatter echoed off the walls like thunder.
But as we entered and approached the table, the market-like clamor cut off abruptly.
Hostile glares loaded with obvious what the hell are you doing here?
"...I wonder if I made a mistake inviting you."
Gun Yuhyeon's face darkened.
Figuring we'd get nowhere just standing there, I stepped forward and cupped my fists in salute.
"I heard this was a place to forge good connections, so I came. May we join you? If it's unwelcome, we'll leave."
My words were polite but firm. The others exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how to respond. Then all eyes turned to one man.
The sharp-eyed figure in the center, holding a wine cup.
Clink.
Damak set down his cup and spoke.
"First, my apologies for not inviting you sooner. Had I known you'd be so open-minded..."
As if. It was obvious he didn't mean a word.
I smiled brightly. "Isn't this how we narrow the gap between us?"
His expression relaxed to match mine. "If you're willing, please join us and grace the table."
He gestured to the seat beside him. Those nearby stood and vacated it themselves.
"Looks like it'll ruin the booze."
"Heh."
"Kuk."
Someone muttered it like a soliloquy. Any martial artist here could've heard it crystal clear.
But Ilmyeong, with his unmoving heart, wouldn't rise to such bait. Neither would I.
Dang Seohui... who knows. She was just staring at the food, ignoring everything else.
We took our seats, but the atmosphere didn't thaw. Some felt awkward; others brimmed with enmity.
Then, a man opposite us smirked meaningfully.
"Come to think of it, we're the ones in the wrong. Isn't the Black Flame Dragon one of the black path Murim's famed divine beings?"
"Uahaha!"
"Uhuhuhu."
A group burst into wide-mouthed laughter at his words. The noise returned, but eyes still lingered on us.
"Though I hear something odd—that the Black Flame Dragon's brokering an alliance between Sahyeokryeon and the Murim Alliance."
He glanced around for agreement. "Does that even make sense?"
Like he's testing our reaction. He licked his lips, staring me down.
As I sized him up, Gun Yuhyeon's transmission reached me.
-He's Gal Jeon-gi, fourth disciple of the Huangsa Sect Leader. A die-hard hawk, just like his master. The Evil Bear Gal Jeon-gi—wasn't he originally from Huangsa? Black path folks switch affiliations like changing clothes; hard to pin down their roots.
Thanks to Gun Yuhyeon, his intent was crystal clear. I met Gal Jeon-gi's eyes squarely.
"What's so impossible about it?"
"Huh?"
"Sahyeokryeon wasn't formed just to fight the Murim Alliance, was it?"
He threw his head back laughing. "Uahaha! True enough."
His eyes flashed. "To be precise, it's to resist the Alliance's oppression."
Sigh. Strutting with half-baked skills, clueless about war's horrors. That's why hawkish talk always gains traction—cowards who bolt at the first real fight.
Wasting energy convincing trash like him? No thanks. Not out of fear, but disgust. I came to sway Damak anyway.
"You seem to like fighting."
"I don't dodge fights that come to me."
"...Ever hear of assault provocation?"
"What?"
Oof, that feral glare.
"Even if you didn't start it, do something punchable, and getting hit is on you."
"...Ha, you little shit. What'd you just say?"
I glanced around, baiting him. "Anyone here think they could beat Senior Ilmyeong?"
"..."
"Even a hundred Huangsa warriors charging at once couldn't take him."
"You bastard!"
Bam!
Gal Jeon-gi lurched up clumsily; the table shook, food spilled, cups toppled.
"You mocking Huangsa?!"
"You seem itching for war with the Alliance. ...Do you really think you could face Senior Ilmyeong in a deathmatch?"
"..."
"Why so quiet? Planning to dodge experts like him even in war?"
I scanned those who'd laughed with him. Talented for their age, infamous in peacetime.
But war doesn't care about age or gender—strength is absolute.
"War isn't a spar. No one's matching your level. If war erupted between Sahyeokryeon and the Alliance now, you'd all be thrown to the front lines."
On that merciless battlefield, mercy vanishes from blades. Where humans aren't seen as human, swords that felled trees reap lives.
"Know how many die the first day of war?"
After full preparations, battles explode—casualties skyrocket. Some wars end in under a week from sheer ferocity. Martial wars? Even bloodier.
"War doesn't end in wounds. At minimum, limbs—at best, your life. Brace for it."
The mood sank heavier. Gal Jeon-gi snarled.
"...You think the black path lacks that resolve?"
"Not questioning Sahyeokryeon's resolve."
"What?"
"Questioning yours." I locked eyes. "Ready to face Senior Ilmyeong on day one in a deathmatch?"
"..."
As Gal Jeon-gi glanced at Ilmyeong then glared back, Damak spoke from the center.
"Then... should we just wait for the Alliance to decide our doom?"
What the—?
Damak downed his drink calmly. "Right now, the Alliance's eyes are on the Blood Cult's rise in Sichuan. But once that's over, where do those arrows turn?"
Every group needs goals and justifications. Pure power-grabs are aimless carts. Groups chase purpose.
So Damak probed the Alliance's motives.
"Missing their moment of weakness feels like squandering heaven's gift. What say you, Black Flame Dragon?"
He was right. Prime time for Sahyeokryeon—if they could topple the Alliance.
But.
"Impossible, probably."
"Think Sahyeokryeon lacks the power?"
I shook my head. The Alliance's strength wasn't just size.
"Different roots. To topple them, you'd face the Nine Great Sects, Five Families, 108 Peaks, and countless others simultaneously. Confident?"
True power lay in sects grown alongside the Alliance. Sahyeokryeon's young factions couldn't sustain it, even with numbers.
"Attacking the Alliance would feel like war on all orthodox sects. Prepared for that?"
Damak's eyes flickered briefly. He stared, then spoke slowly.
"Alliance and Sahyeokryeon are water and oil. They won't wait for us to solidify."
His gaze swept us, laced with hostility. How could a past Alliance chief strategist hate them so?
Damak tapped the table. "You're famed for wisdom, Black Flame Dragon. One question."
His sharp eyes fixed on me.
"Must Sahyeokryeon await slaughter?"
Past Damak wasn't blood-mad. He judged alone, sought counsel but decided himself. This was a probe of our intent.
I met his gaze. "Even post-Blood Cult, the Alliance won't attack Sahyeokryeon."
"So certain? You're just an academy rep."
True. But I'd lived the future.
"Blood Cult isn't alone in foul sorcery. Scarier things exist."
"..."
"'They' eye the world now—monsters who disregard human life."
Damak stroked his chin, leaning back skeptically.
"Conspiracy theory?"
I shot back. "Heard of Iron Corpses in Sichuan?"
"Sorcerers use such things."
I shook my head. "Saw weirder during the last Murim crisis."
"How weird?"
I recalled: invisible, formless, lurking in shadows, reaping lives.
"Steel-hard skin, bones honed to blades, melting into darkness to devour all."
"..."
Utter disbelief in his eyes.
"Us fighting hands them the world."
"Proof?"
"...None."
Damak glanced at the others. "You all saw the same?"
Ilmyeong and Dang Seohui shook their heads. Tension broke; snickers rippled.
I wouldn't buy it on words either. As the mood lightened—
"...They emit something like poison mist too."
A chill voice cut in.
"...?"
"Huh?"
Eyes turned. Gun Yuhyeon stood there, trembling.
"They were human... yet not."
I swallowed hard. "...You saw?"
"From afar, but clear."
As we exchanged looks, Damak eyed him, then shook his head.
"Even so, we can't bet on unverified ghosts."
He declared firmly. "We can't trust the Alliance."
His words echoed.
# My past impression of Damak was that he was exceptionally capable. Maybe he just shone against prior incompetents.
This meeting confirmed it: a tough foe.
Impossible to read.
He knew Sahyeokryeon couldn't wage war now. Unless he sought ruin, attacking the Alliance wouldn't topple orthodoxy.
So why the hostility?
"This got tricky."
Gun Yuhyeon's face clouded as we exited. No trace of his gambling poise.
Gambling vs. war? Worlds apart.
I saluted. "Thanks for the concern. Sorry we couldn't impress."
He shook his head. "No. Your words alone will wake some to reality. Rally them, form consensus—leadership will reconsider."
A smile crept on. "What's next?"
"Meet more folks. Time till the founding ceremony."
Prioritize Chaseokdu the league lord, and those from Ma-ryeong Plateau.
He nodded. "Got it. Call if you need aid."
"Your words suffice."
We reached our lodging mid-chat. As I turned to part—
"One answer as payment for today?"
Answer? For what?
I tilted my head; he pressed on.
"That final hand... the Five Heavenly Kings."
Dead serious. "Was it real?"
Desperate, like awaiting life's truth. Gambler through and through. A twinge of guilt.
I smiled instead. Satisfied, he nodded.
"I see. So that's it. Truly, truly! What a relief."
He floated back to his quarters, transparent as glass. I couldn't help chuckling.
Glancing aside, Dang Seohui still watched him.
"What a weirdo. Scammed, yet grinning."
Even she couldn't fathom gamblers' minds. Who could?
I stretched. "Let's head in. Need to discuss next moves."
Entering the inner chamber, we froze in unison.
Blood scent?
The room reeked of metallic blood.
Then.
"Benefactor Jin!"
Ilmyeong's eyes bulged, pointing.
There: Ak Byeongbi, drenched in blood, dead.