#32. Second-Rate Warrior Seeking the Legend (4)
"The people of Hunan Province call the Ma-ryeong Plateau the land that touches the heavens. It never rains there through all four seasons, making it barren as hell—literally, among herb gatherers. It's different from the info others have, but it points straight to where the Mita Seongsu is."
I asked the innkeeper, "What info do the others have?"
"There's a deep valley at the heart of the Ma-ryeong Plateau. Even the boldest hunters and herb gatherers never go near it. They call it Jeolmanggok. Recently, one herb gatherer accidentally stepped into that valley and wasn't found for six months. When they dragged him out, he babbled about seeing an ice pillar glowing like the sun inside a cave deep in Jeolmanggok."
An ice pillar shining like the sun—that described the Mita Seongsu in its raw state, preserving its extreme yin properties before refinement.
"That's when the jianghu folk started flocking to Akyang on those rumors."
By then, I was wondering, If he's spilling all this, why do I need to pay 20 nyang?
"Haha, consider this compensation for my earlier rudeness. For real intel, it's 20 nyang."
"What kind?"
"A map of the caves inside Jeolmanggok."
"A... map?"
"That herb gatherer I mentioned? I tracked him down and had this made."
"Even so, 20 nyang feels steep."
"Think of it as life insurance—not that pricey."
"No proof it's accurate."
"If you're planning to spend half a year wandering those caves, sure."
"...That big?"
The innkeeper pulled his hands from his sleeves and unrolled a scroll as thick as his forearm. When it unfurled with a rustle, it spanned a full chi, crammed with hundreds of tiny rooms like an anthill.
"Small caves are about this room's size. The big ones? He said they might connect all the way to Jeolmanggok."
"Ugh."
"What do you say?"
He swiftly rerolled it and tied it with a leather thong—compact enough not to draw eyes if carried right.
"Sorry, no money."
"Silver King Plaques let you draw unlimited bills from the front lines, I hear."
"I'd spend my life paying that off."
The moment he'd shown the map, it was burned into my perfect memory. No need to waste 20 nyang.
Better yet...
"...Now I'm even more curious about your real identity."
"Ah, speaking of—want to buy some intel?"
"...Intel?"
"Yes."
"What kind?"
While staying at the relay station, I'd forged a Murim Alliance-spec secret document. The travel funds from Wang Merchant Group were plenty, but letting the intel in my head rot without cashing it in would be stupid. Plus, it planted seeds for a key future deal with Haomen.
"A secret document on the Beggars' Sect's push into Hangzhou."
"..."
The innkeeper's face went pale.
The Beggars' Sect was one pillar of the Nine Great Gates and the eyes and ears of the entire jianghu. Naturally, they'd always clashed with similar outfits like Haomen. The Beggars' Sect had the edge in raw power, but in places thriving on pleasure and commerce, Haomen gripped the intel tight. That's how they'd survived decades of brutal shadow wars.
"Good stuff, but hard to verify."
"Here's a deal."
I pulled the document from my bosom, tore it in half, and handed one over. He took it gingerly, read slowly, then stared at me with wide eyes.
"You serious?"
"...How much?"
"20 nyang."
He scowled. "Why not just ask for the map? Faster."
"Nah. Don't need the map. Cash."
"For real?"
"I don't think I'll snag the Mita Seongsu anyway. Just wanna grab some coin and sightsee Akyang Tower before heading out."
"Understood. One moment."
While he stepped away, I scanned the room's odds and ends—and spotted something odd.
"Why's this here?"
It was a silver gadget shaped like a closed flower bud.
"Like it?"
"Why's it here?"
"Somehow ended up in our hands."
"Sichuan would lose their shit if they knew."
I probed lightly, and he flashed a knowing grin. "Not your average joe, huh? 1 nyang, it's yours."
"Use that, and Sichuan's ghosts'll haunt you forever."
"Fair point. Gift, then?"
"This pricey? As a gift?"
"Friendship fee."
"Dangerous gift from a bad friend."
He raised his hidden hand to his sleeve and chuckled. "Don't bad friends make it more fun?"
His eyes sparkled, probing hard—determined to squeeze something out of me. As expected of the future 13th Haomen Lord.
Building personal ties with Yang Gun-baek, future Haomen head? Nothing to lose for me.
I pocketed the gadget. "Can't argue that."
"Looking forward to more."
#
My mood soured leaving the relay station. The spot where I suspected the Tae-eul Sword Emperor met his end overlapped with the Mita Seongsu site—meaning I'd have to dive into that mess too.
"Hey! You just gonna walk by? My shoulder's busted!"
"If it's that useless, you should've ditched it ages ago!"
Clang clang.
With all these martial artists crowding in, fights erupted everywhere. Not street-thug scraps—these were brutal experts with fearsome names.
Gu Ji-shin-gae Ma Go-san, Golden Horn Hermit Sa Mu-in, Paradise Child Seo Hyeon-jae... Gotta compete with these guys?
Not just black path—plenty of white path elites too. Especially theirs: uniformed in matching colors to tell friend from foe, moving in groups from twenty to a hundred strong.
Too late if I wait till the Mita Seongsu grab ends?
This dragged on two months. Then white path sects like Namgung Family—bereft of their young lady—and black path groups spent another half-year probing what happened inside.
Wait it out fully, and I'd miss the Murim Academy exam.
Still gotta go.
Maybe Tae-eul Gate manuals hid there. Ten thousand dead or not, no choice.
Positively: snag the manuals and Mita Seongsu?
"First things first."
If chasing Mita Seongsu, prep was key. I headed to an accessory shop at the entrance to Akyang's pleasure district.
Unlike the shabby interior, the displayed wares gleamed exotic and beautiful. In the center sat a scrawny old man stuffing tobacco into his pipe—fitting the rundown vibe better than the jewels.
"Back, weirdo."
He eyed me suspiciously, same as ever.
Upon arriving in Akyang, I'd crashed at the relay station one night, then come straight here and handed the old man my Cheonjam-sa thread.
"All done?"
"Gotta tell me how you knew first."
The first visit, I'd shoved the Cheonjam-sa at him out of nowhere. He'd stared like I was nuts. I'd described what I wanted made regardless, and after agonizing, he'd demanded to know how I knew his identity.
Couldn't say we'd meet in the future—so I'd promised once it was done.
"Item first."
He tossed a cloth-wrapped bundle aside. What spilled out was bizarre: too broad for a bracelet, too ornate for hand/foot guards.
"Your turn."
"Bought the info from Haomen for 10 nyang."
The old man's true face: Jang Dowon, the Myriad Craftsman. I'd known from past-life ties in the Murim Alliance.
Sold to a smithy at ten, gripped a hammer; then carpenter, leatherworker—honed skills despite misery. Buried in obscurity due to lowly birth and hidden talent.
Later, when the Demonic Cult revived, he joined the Alliance, forged fourteen divine weapons for Nine Great Gates and Five Great Families, then vanished.
Couldn't spill that, so I glossed with "Haomen."
"My worth's just 10 nyang?"
Not suspicion—that irked him?
"You don't know your own value yet, Master."
"Enough flattery. Check it."
"Oho, a dragon?"
"Called it Biryongjo."
"How's it work?"
In that short time, he'd crafted this from my Cheonjam-sa.
"Palm inward, pull."
Click.
The back sprang open, launching a hook-shaped arrowhead.
"Forged from wrought iron—punches through most rock."
"Throw it to hook?"
"You know Cheonjam-sa's trait?"
"Extends with inner energy infusion. So infuse to lengthen, retract to pull. Impressive."
"Idiot. You think I'd make something that lame?"
"Eh?"
"Cheonjam-sa bends direction based on qi input."
"Eh?"
"Weave different strands, vary qi infusion per thread—changes path. Already tensioned tight, so with enough power, it fires itself—no throw needed."
"What..."
"Figure it out. Or it's not for you."
Not confusion—disbelief. Plus, the hook's tip had joints like bird talons, opening and closing.
"Wasn't made for greenhorns like you. Needs relentless training and needle-like control..."
Piriririk.
The hook shot from the Biryongjo, snaking like a flying serpent. It bypassed Jang Dowon, snagged a silver ring from the display case end, and reeled back.
Piriririk.
A small winch whirred inside my wrist; when fully retracted, the ring sat in my palm.
"Like this?"
"Hah... Can't believe my eyes."
He made me demo repeatedly; I nailed it every time.
"Hmph. Decent mimicry."
"You said unbelievable earlier."
"Done here? Scram."
"One more commission."
"Again? Shoulda done it at once."
"Wasn't planned."
I described the tool for harvesting Mita Seongsu. His jaw dropped like a gourd.
"What the hell are you?"
"Haha, spill and you make it free?"
He scowled deeply.
#
Having ordered the Mita Seongsu tool for emergencies, I asked Jang Dowon for the busiest inn and headed there. Better to tag loosely onto a group than go solo—even if not fully trustworthy, less chance of a knife in the ribs.
Thanks to my growing inner energy nearing one gapja, my senses sharpened—and picked up an approacher.
What the?
No one I expected in Akyang. Mostly past-life ties who wouldn't know me.
No way.
Suddenly, Gye Yeonseok's bloodshot glare and curses flashed—had he hired assassins? Tae-eul Gate would finger them instantly, so strike while I was out...
Chills spiked my hairs. In this dense crowd, no dodging a blind attack.
The suspicious aura wove smoothly through, charging straight.
I surged qi to counter—
"Jin Gongja!! What brings you here?"
It was Seong Moran of Iron Sword Sect, beaming innocently with a chicken skewer in hand.
"Ah... You startled me."
"Same! Hard to spot you even in Hebi, now here."
"What brings you, Lady Seong?"
"Me? Hunting Mita Seongsu, obviously."
Realizing the skewer, she hid it quick. "Not alone. With a junior I know, some helpers for him, and my friends."
"...A group."
"No way—you're here for the Mita Seongsu too?"
"...Something like that."
"With who?"
"Solo."
"God... Thought you were gutsy, but you don't value your life."
"...That's a bit harsh, Lady."
"Not at all. How do you plan to chase it alone?"
"Was looking to join someone."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Join us?"
Seong Moran-level expert? Solid backup—assuming no backstab. Cheonjam-bo would cover me anyway.
"That okay?"
"Hold on."
She glanced back, lips moving—transmitting sound. But after fumbling, she shook her head, cheeks flushing.
"Lady, if it's trouble, no need to force it."
"No! My junior was teasing me."
"Teasing?"
"Ahem, anyway—they're fine if we agree on first dibs for treasures or elixirs."
Groups often pre-negotiated loot rights. Skip it or break it, and blades flew at the end—happened all the time.
I nodded. "Of course."
"Coming now."
Moments later, commotion ahead—crowd parted. Their uniforms gave them away instantly.
Namgung Family!
Akyang teemed with masters, but few topped these. Everyone yielded knowing it.
I grabbed Seong Moran's arm to pull aside—
"Seonhwa!!"
"!!"
Seong Moran waved brightly. "Unnie! You vanished—scared me. This is... him?"
"Er... Tae-eul Gate's Jin Sowoon Gongja."
The woman calling her "unnie" smiled faintly. Onlookers gawked slack-jawed at her beauty.
Namgung Seonhwa cupped a light greeting. "Hello. Namgung Seonhwa."
The group I'd joined? The ones who died in this contest.