#40. A First-Rate Martial Artist Stirring a New Wind (2)
It felt like I was truly on the verge of death. Among essence, energy, and spirit, it was my shen that seemed about to dissipate. Unlike most people whose jing and qi run out first, leading to the collapse of shen, I'd somehow kept my jing and qi going with elixirs for inner energy and vitality recovery. What was wearing away was my shen.
But with the likes of Namgung Jinmyeong of the Namgung family, the lord of Sahwangbong Peak, and the masters of the Black Sand Rooms standing guard as protectors, who would dare say they needed a break?
Thanks to them, I was enjoying a luxury no one else in the jianghu could dream of. I was probably the only one ever to have every peak expert from both the orthodox and unorthodox paths taking turns protecting me and helping me unblock my acupoints.
In that haze of exhaustion where my mind felt like it was about to shatter, I somehow dragged my body into the Muryangbulgolmokhonjin formation—and that's when disaster struck. I'd taken a few wrong steps.
But strangely, in that moment, a new path through the formation appeared before me, and I walked on as if nothing had happened. It was a mistake that never should have occurred, but who in the formation would ever know? Only me.
When I quietly asked Yu Ji-ryang about it later, he said one method of studying formations was to first grasp the paths and internalize the calculations. Personally, though, I suspected it was the effect of the Tae-eul True Scripture.
Ever since starting to cultivate the Tae-eul True Scripture, which awakens the principles of all things under heaven, I'd gained a new perspective on incoming information. With jing and qi separated, my shen objectified, I must have intuitively grasped the formation's mysteries.
It was just a guess. In any case, we ultimately saved them all—excluding those who died rashly moving about inside, those injured, and those who starved to death. I heard there'd never been a single person in martial history who'd rescued so many.
Honestly, the deaths inside did bother me a bit, but they weren't worth me risking my life to the extent I did. It was a situation where I could've cut deals along the way, taken what I wanted, and turned it all into profit for Tae-eul Gate and myself.
But when I heard that Yong So-a had fled through the Murim Alliance to Mudang Sect, and that they hadn't properly relayed information about the inner formation, I decided I had to save everyone inside, even if it killed me.
"That way, the awe for Yong So-a gets flushed down the shitter."
The Murim Alliance, the pillar of the orthodox sects, ultimately fell into Yong So-a's hands because of his overwhelming martial prowess and the backing of Mudang Sect, the strongest faction in the Alliance. Moreover, while other sects were slaughtered helplessly in clashes with the Demonic Cult, Yong So-a had always emerged victorious against them with his inhuman abilities.
All of this had evolved into reverence, making people believe Yong So-a was the Alliance's only hope.
"But that's over as of today."
The people gathered in Akyang from both orthodox and unorthodox camps had somehow become friends overnight. They shared tables, drank, and celebrated without end.
Disciples from unorthodox sects bowed in thanks to orthodox experts, and orthodox experts returned the gratitude to unorthodox ones. In the midst of it all, their common enemy had crystallized into Yong So-a. At every drinking session, they chewed him up like an appetizer, fueling their rage against him.
Yong So-a shitting such a massive turd, and Mudang trying to cover for him by hiding him deep in their sect—it had backfired spectacularly.
As survivors began emerging, aid supplies and personnel poured in from across the jianghu, including the Murim Alliance. But Mudang was nowhere to be seen.
"This is gonna get fun."
Even the sturdiest reservoir crumbles starting from a single hole. It wouldn't be wrong to say that Mudang, the pinnacle of the orthodox world, had sprung a tiny leak today.
Of course, being small, they could plug it easily enough. But given their behavior so far, would they even try? I had my doubts.
Even now, weird rumors were circulating, centered around the Beggars' Sect, claiming the inner formation wasn't that scary after all. But anyone who dared voice such nonsense got beaten to a pulp by those who'd suffered on Ma-ryeong Plateau. The rumors died out quick.
"Now they look human again."
After rescuing all the survivors, we withdrew the command post and field camps, moving everything to Akyang. We rented out thirty inns and brothels wholesale, assigning the wounded and the exhausted from the rescue first. I got a separate annex for some real rest.
Sleep, wake up, stuff my face with food calling the errand boy, circulate my energy, sleep again. Repeat whenever hunger hit. After three days of that, my mind started clearing, and my body felt near normal.
First thing upon waking fully, I checked my inner energy. In the chaos, I'd had no time to verify the Tae-eul True Scripture's effects while lost in trance-like circulation. But my inner energy had already reached the Yi Gapja stage.
"...Huh."
It must've been the Tae-eul True Scripture surging through my body, sweeping up the residual energies from all the elixirs I'd taken. The sensation of having endless inner energy at my command, backed by perfected martial arts to unleash it, was utterly novel.
"No wonder the jianghu's masters and that bastard Yong So-a strut around so confidently."
A fulfillment I'd never felt in either lifetime. Confidence that I could handle any of my planned tasks without breaking a sweat. We'd spent three months on Ma-ryeong Plateau, leaving only three months behind. Time to hustle.
"Still, totally worth it."
Self-congratulating like that, I headed first to Jang Dowon.
"Heh heh, you really..."
Jang Dowon, who'd seen the Mita Sacred Water, let out a hollow laugh in stunned disbelief.
"I thought just coming back alive was a blessing... and yet..."
"All thanks to you, elder. This helped a ton."
I shook the Flying Dragon Claw as I spoke.
"Shouldn't have bothered making it so well. If I'd known it'd cause this much hassle, I'd have slapped something half-assed together."
Even as he grumbled, Jang Dowon couldn't wipe the smile from his face. In my previous life, he'd said something similar: A craftsman feels joy just seeing their creation put to good use by a worthy owner.
"Come back in three days."
"That long?"
"This thing won't yield to any extreme yin energy. You think processing it is a snap?"
"Got it. How much should I prepare?"
"Forget it. No point taking money I got nowhere to spend."
"For real?"
"A few of the kids you saved this time were my customers. Call it even."
"Wait, then you're shortchanging yourself, aren't you?"
"What're you on about?"
"Orthodox and unorthodox sects alike are lining up to repay me. Shouldn't you at least get a treasure out of it?"
"You rotten punk. Wanna see me fail refining the Mita Sacred Water and blow it all up?"
I bolted from his shop before he could change his mind. Jang Dowon shut his business doors and got straight to work.
I was on my way back to the annex when I spotted a group of warriors in Murim Alliance uniforms. I stepped aside to let them pass, but for some reason, the twenty or so of them halted right in front of me.
"You're Jin Sowoon of Tae-eul Gate, right?"
They even knew who I was.
"That's me."
"Come with us."
Murim Alliance warriors reaching for my arms from both sides. I fired off steel needles, forcing them back.
Staggered three steps by the unexpected attack, they drew their swords in shock.
"Defying the Murim Alliance's orders?"
"You haven't said who you are, where you're from, or why you're here."
In the old days, I'd have gone quietly to avoid a fuss. Not anymore.
"I'm Gong Seokchan, head of the Murim Alliance's Akyang branch. Ring any bells if I mention the Ma-ryeong Plateau incident?"
I tilted my head.
"No idea."
"You punk! Your sect, Tae-eul Gate, holds one of the 108 Peaks. You gonna ignore Alliance law?"
"I said I don't know what you're talking about. What exactly did I do wrong there?"
Gong Seokchan signaled his men. Four rushed at me simultaneously. No need to draw my sword—I unleashed the Cartoon Invincible Fist.
Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud.
Swept up in dozens of fist shadows in an instant, the Alliance warriors took hits to vital points and retched, gasping for air.
"You bastard! Do you even know what you've done?!"
"And you, branch head? Hiding behind Alliance law—what are you really up to?"
"What?"
"My lodgings have Namgung family members and Mosanpa folks. You could've gone through them without this show of force. So why this method?"
"..."
"If you've got a good reason, I'll come along. Otherwise, no."
From what Namgung Seonhwa had told me: The Murim Alliance had stood by when Yong So-a fled to Mudang. It nearly sparked war between Namgung and Mudang. Namgung Jinmyeong had been furious, and that's why they'd completely excluded the Alliance from the rescue op.
No need for me to bow to them here.
"It's about suspicions regarding the mechanisms in the Ma-ryeong Plateau formation."
I listened quietly to Gong Seokchan, but it still didn't add up. When I cocked my head, he explained further.
"Can you prove that formation on Ma-ryeong Plateau isn't Tae-eul Gate's?"
"Pfft."
Yong So-a couldn't breach it, Mosanpa couldn't—yet a Tae-eul Gate disciple did, so obviously it wasn't Tae-eul Gate's? The absurdity made me burst out laughing.
"If Tae-eul Gate could set up something like that, would we have been bullied at the bottom of the 108 Peaks all this time?"
"...We'll find out once we investigate."
"Then show me an official order from the Mantongbu."
"...What?"
"For something this big, you'd have Mantongbu approval. Or are you investigating on a hunch, branch head?"
"..."
Of course there was no order. For something this serious, it'd need Jegal Somyeong's sign-off—and he wouldn't take such conspiracy nonsense seriously.
"...Your constant quibbling is starting to seem suspicious."
Something clicked about Gong Seokchan's irrational behavior, so I asked.
"By any chance, are you from Mudang Sect?"
He flinched. Seeing him fail to hide it, everything fell into place.
"Ah, if you're from Mudang, that explains it."
The reason the Alliance hadn't properly stepped up when Yong So-a sought their aid and fled to Mudang.
The reason they'd stood idly hoping all witnesses in the formation vanished.
And now, with Yong So-a's name in the dirt, they scrambled out. It all made sense.
"Bring an order. Or I'm not going."
I ignored Gong Seokchan and turned to leave. Unable to hold back any longer, he struck.
"Hmph."
I moved to counter with Cartoon Invincible Fist without hesitation. I didn't know the level of Tae-eul Sword Emperor arts yet, or if they'd match Mudang's, but one thing was sure: my inner energy outstripped his.
Then a massive man appeared between us, swinging a halberd down at Gong Seokchan.
Bam.
The giant stood firm after the swing, but Gong Seokchan flew back, airborne for over ten zhang.
"Kuhk! W-who are you?! How dare you strike a Murim Alliance branch head?!"
"Branch head?"
The giant slung his halberd over his shoulder.
"Some pissant branch head harassing the benefactor of Sahwangbong's Chaseokdu? Kid. If you wanna take this boy, go fetch your Alliance Leader first."
Gong Seokchan paled at the name Chaseokdu, lord of Sahwangbong Peak—one of the Black Path's premier fighting forces.
Stepping calmly from beside him was Namgung Jinmyeong of the Namgung family.
"I told you this isn't for the Murim Alliance to meddle in."
Gong Seokchan and his men looked ready to bolt at the mere sight of the pair.
In the end, Gong Seokchan threw a half-assed fist salute and fled.
"Finally gettin' a look at our benefactor's face."
"Hey, didn't I tell you to notify my escorts when heading out?"
Seeing these two titans of orthodox and unorthodox worlds—who could bare fangs at each other without warning—standing like old chums, my head spun on how to even respond.