#41. A First-Rate Warrior Stirring New Winds (3)
The news that he had recovered enough to move around outside spread like wildfire, and visitors lined up one after another.
"Did you see him earlier? That was Chaseokdu, the lord of the Four Emperors Peak."
"Gang Maengji, the master of the Black Killing Room. You've heard of me, right?"
"Go Gilsan of the Four Dragon Gate."
"Leader of the Blood Spear Wave..."
"Iron Shell Gate..."
For a disciple of the Tae-eul Gate like him, sharing a seat with these renowned masters of the unorthodox martial world should have been an overwhelming burden. But they barged in without a care for his circumstances.
"The unorthodox martial world owes you a great debt."
At Chaseokdu's words, the gathered men nodded in unison.
"If not for you, the chaos that would have engulfed the entire unorthodox world is beyond imagination."
"No, it was simply the right thing to do, regardless of any creed."
"Nonsense. We—and even those hypocrites of the orthodox sects—know full well how hard it is to do the right thing when creed has nothing to do with it. Take the Murim Alliance's lukewarm response, for instance. Wasn't it because most of the people on the Mareung Plateau were unorthodox warriors?"
"..."
"So what you've done is something tremendous, irreplaceable."
Chaseokdu scratched his cheek awkwardly.
"Thanks to you, I've even learned that some of those hypocrites aren't half bad."
"Ahaha..."
Jin Sowoon had no idea whether to welcome this situation or not. Before the Demonic Cult's emergence, the Murim Alliance's main enemies had been the unorthodox and the evil paths, after all.
"If I had my way, I'd invite you and everyone from your sect to a grand feast..."
"Pardon?"
He let out an involuntary yelp, and before he could recover, regret filled Chaseokdu's face.
"...but that would only bring you great trouble."
He quickly tried to downplay their gratitude. If word got out that he'd been invited to an unorthodox sect, not going would be a problem—and going would be an even bigger one.
"I've already received my due in seeing the ways of the jianghu upheld without distinction between orthodox and unorthodox. Any more gratitude would feel like overpayment to me."
Strange emotions flickered across the faces of Chaseokdu, Gang Maengji, Go Gilsan, and the others. Was it anger at his refusal of their goodwill, or joy at not having to pay the debt? Their fierce features made it impossible to tell.
"Hahaha! Truly remarkable. Remarkable. How does the orthodox world produce such talents endlessly?"
Chaseokdu burst into booming laughter, and the other unorthodox men joined in with their own roars.
"...Haha."
Jin Sowoon felt like a young pig captured by hunters, unsure when it would end up as roast.
"Even so, failing to repay a debt would make us no better than beasts stripped of our humanity, unorthodox name or not. Take this."
What he offered was a command tile no longer than two finger joints.
"The Four Emperors Peak will repay this debt whenever you call."
"...!!"
He could only gasp inwardly. This wasn't just any tile—it was akin to a gratitude token. Issued by the head of a faction, pledging his own sect. It was as good as an IOU from the Four Emperors Peak, promising repayment anytime.
In the jianghu, even unorthodox sects would be branded faithless if they ignored such a token, making survival in the unorthodox world nearly impossible. And these tokens had no expiration. As long as the Four Emperors Peak endured across generations, whoever held the tile could call on them once. It symbolized a profound trust beyond mere money.
Was it safe for a Tae-eul Gate disciple like him to accept it?
While he pondered, the other faction leaders stepped forward.
"The Black Killing Room stands the same."
"Me too..."
The tiles piled up one by one. The table was soon covered with fully twenty of them. Though more factions had participated, they'd apparently selected representatives.
"Uh..."
"Don't refuse this much. Even we unorthodox would look like heartless monsters."
After a moment's thought, he nodded and rose from his seat. When the Righteous-Demonic Great War erupted, orthodox and unorthodox alike would perish anyway. What did it matter before the mad Demonic Cult?
He recalled Investigator Jegal's advice from his memories. With this, Tae-eul Gate wouldn't need to watch other sects' faces anymore; a foundation was forming.
"How could I refuse the goodwill of the jianghu's seniors, creed aside? Thank you. I'll use them wisely."
Once the unorthodox factions departed, orthodox representatives entered before he could catch his breath. There were fewer of them, as orthodox participation had been limited.
"Looks like the Four Emperors Peak lord came and went."
Namgung Jinmyeong smiled at the piled tiles. As Jin Sowoon debated clearing them, Namgung Jinmyeong waved it off, reading his mind.
"It's fine. When Lord Chaseokdu asked what repayment you'd want, I told him."
The Four Emperors Peak lord and the Namgung family's young master had discussed that?
"They stirred up Akyang, making things easier for us. Merchants always turn others' misfortune into opportunity, don't they?"
The situation was this: With tens of thousands gathered on the Mareung Plateau and supplies short, they'd sourced from nearby Akyang. Merchants jacked up prices, and orthodox sects gritted their teeth to pay. Then unorthodox factions terrorized caravans and escorts, forcing prices back down. A perfect orthodox-unorthodox joint operation, as Namgung Jinmyeong put it. Jin Sowoon could only chuckle hollowly.
"Ha... ha..."
Having earned the Murim Alliance's deep grudge, the Namgung family was openly forging ties with unorthodox masters.
But could he act so boldly? No. Namgung Jinmyeong was the Namgung young master; he was Tae-eul Gate.
Namgung Jinmyeong nodded reassuringly.
"No one will accuse you of colluding with the unorthodox over this. If they do, I'll handle them myself."
"...Pardon??"
"Just kidding."
Jin Sowoon clamped his mouth shut at the grim joke, and Namgung Jinmyeong chuckled.
"They say you grasped the Emperor's Sword Technique by hand, but you don't seem that bold."
Interest lit the eyes of those present.
"Great hero, is it true?"
"Ah, yeah, it happened. You should've seen Brother San's face—he nearly dropped his sword."
They eyed him with wonder. He glanced at Namgung San, worried it might offend, but Namgung San smiled unperturbed.
"Come on, more people are waiting. Let's make way."
More waiting? As he screamed inwardly, a Hyeongsanpa warrior stepped forward.
"I'm Ha Minjung, senior brother of the sect. Thank you for saving our youngest."
Ha Minjung, who looked old enough to be his father, clasped his hands and bowed.
He nearly acted like he knew the man. As the next Hyeongsanpa sect leader, Ha Minjung was renowned in the Murim Alliance for his integrity.
"It's an honor to meet the Seven Killings Soul Destroyer."
"...You know me?"
"I've heard much of your fame."
"You're embarrassing me... I heard my junior spoke ill of you, yet you saved him without hesitation. Thank you."
"No need. It wasn't anything hurtful. Please tell him to recover soon."
Song Jeongmu eyed him oddly.
"You're... a surprising man in many ways."
With an enigmatic remark, Song Jeongmu drew something from his robes.
"...This is a gift from our sect leader for you."
It was a thick leather pouch slightly larger than his palm.
"This is...!"
"A hundred Demon-Exorcism Talismans made by our sect."
"!"
"!"
The others reacted more strongly. Hyeongsanpa techniques were famed for demon-exorcism even before the war. The Demon-Exorcism Talisman was their finest secret talisman, purging demonic illusions and poisons. Yet crafting them was so arduous that rumors said fewer existed than actual summoning altars in the jianghu.
"Can you give so many?"
Each was worth 10 nyang. A hundred meant they'd brought their entire stock.
"We brought them to break the formation, but it was too strong. The sect leader said not to be stingy with the man who saved our disciple from it."
Why refuse a burdenless gift? In the coming war, these would fetch 100 nyang each against Demonic Cultists.
"I gratefully accept."
"Will you visit Hyeongsanpa sometime?"
"...?"
"No, you'll be heading to the Murim Alliance soon enough."
"...Probably."
"Then, see you there."
After Song Jeongmu, Sandong Ak family and Yang family members left tiles.
"I hear from Ji-ryang you're interested in qimen dunjia formations."
He'd been planning giganjin-sik and qimen dunjia defenses for Tae-eul Gate. In the previous war, sects with them suffered far less. But they cost a fortune, and few could install them—money alone wasn't enough.
So he'd casually asked Yu Ji-ryang about costs and materials, and it had reached higher ears.
"We're thinking of installing qimen dunjia at Tae-eul Gate. What do you say?"
His jaw dropped.
"You mean it? I was going to ask first. But I know installations are expensive. How much should I prepare?"
He'd secured funds for giganjin-sik via Jegal Cheongi, but not qimen dunjia.
"About that cost... What if we trade for what you got from the Muryangbulgolmokhonjin?"
"What I got?"
"Heard you took a wrong step?"
Even his offhand remark to Yu Ji-ryang had traveled up. No loss for him, and a stronger formation for Tae-eul Gate? Perfect.
"Understood. I look forward to it."
"No, we should be the ones asking."
With Yu Ji-ryang gone, only Namgung Jinmyeong and Namgung San remained. This was the moment he'd anticipated most. What had the Namgung family, holders of one of the Five Great Families' seats, prepared? They'd once given Dae-yeonnan-dan and vowed not to wipe their mouths on it.
Expecting more might make him seem greedy, though.
As he mulled, Namgung Jinmyeong offered an envelope.
'A bill of exchange?'
Tiles were nice, but cashing them in—especially unorthodox ones—would be tricky. Even Namgung's tile had limits. Clean money was better.
"After already giving Dae-yeonnan-dan..."
He pretended to refuse once. Of course, he'd curse eternally if they took it back.
"Didn't I say then? Would the Namgung family pretend a single pill settles the debt to the man who saved my daughter and retainers?"
"Haha, true."
As he tugged the envelope, the slightly open flap revealed paper unlike a standard bill.
Noticing, Namgung Jinmyeong laughed heartily.
"Puhaha, go ahead and check."
"...Ah, well."
"What I have to say depends on seeing it."
Uneasy, he pulled out the paper. It wasn't what he'd expected.
...Please do come visit.
It was a letter, not a bill. An invitation from the family head to visit the Namgung family.
"Father says he wants to meet you."
"..."
Namgung Jinmyeong's father was Namgung Taeha, the Creation Divine Sword and family head. His realm dwarfed Jin Sowoon's, and his status made a direct invitation improper. Normally, such came via sects, relayed by superiors.
Yet the Creation Divine Sword had humbled himself to formally invite a Tae-eul Gate disciple.
"Uh, that..."
The immense invitation only added pressure.
"I'm sorry. My actions were right, but I don't deserve such from the Creation Divine Sword."
He phrased it humbly, but Namgung Jinmyeong and Namgung San kept smiling.
"No need to be burdened. Father has business with you."
"Pardon?"
He'd never met the man in either life. How did he even know him?
"Heard you stole his treasure, the Seven-Colored Jewel Bead?"
"!!"
At the out-of-nowhere claim, he glared at Namgung San for answers, but the man suddenly whistled at the ceiling.
"Ah, no, that, it was..."
"And when he heard his grandson got fleeced for Dae-yeonnan-danand Thousand Silkworm Thread, he nearly fainted."
The story escalated wildly.
"So visit without worry."
Was this a joke?
"Oh, and if you don't come, Father will seek you out himself."
Come or he'll hunt you down and beat you? At the chilling words, he replied hastily.
"I'll visit right after urgent matters."
At least a visit might mean one less hit. Namgung Jinmyeong nodded satisfied, and Namgung San looked back.
As he glared demanding explanation, Namgung Jinmyeong spoke again.
"And I have a favor."
"Speak."
"Someone wants to meet. Hear him out?"
Who merited 'that one' from Namgung Jinmyeong—and needed his ear? Puzzled, he nodded. An elderly man and Seong Moran entered cautiously, revealing why.
"It's been a while."
The Iron Sword Sect lord.
"I hope you've been well."
He returned the clasp.
"..."
The sect lord stared silently. He looked far more haggard than last time—face sunken, eyes hollow, his already sour features twisted fiercer.
"Far from well."
"Ah... I see."
"My heir grandson's imprisoned, Divine Sword stolen, Iron Sword Sect's name in the dirt—how could I be?"
Namgung Jinmyeong faltered for the first time, unlike their prior talk.
"...But those are my failings, my faults. If yours, it's only exposing them."
Namgung Jinmyeong's restraining hand fell.
"Yet the one I resented saved my last granddaughter's life. How can I resent you now?"
His words blurred blame and self-reproach.
"When I heard Moran was trapped in the soul-destroying formation, I swore to the heavens: Return her, and my life is yours."
The Iron Sword Sect lord dropped to his knees and prostrated.
"!"
"!"
"!"
Not alone—Namgung Jinmyeong, Namgung San, and granddaughter Seong Moran were there too.
Shocked, he tried to raise him.
"Please rise. I only did what was right."
"Right to you, maybe not me. I staked my life—kneeling's nothing."
His voice was desperate.
"I apologize to my benefactor. Forgive this old man's past sins."
All froze at his humbled prestige and years.
He nodded.
"...I accept your sincere apology. Now rise. If you keep this up, saving Moran will become a curse."
"Indeed, Sect Lord. This burden would sour Tae-eul Gate and Iron Sword Sect relations."
With Namgung Jinmyeong joining, the lord finally rose. He placed a tile like the others.
"We won't encroach on Tae-eul Gate's position in Hebi. And we'll foster good relations between our sects."
"Your word alone is gratitude enough."
As he clasped in respect, the lord bowed deeply too.
Seong Moran seemed to want to speak but was overwhelmed by her grandfather's gravity, merely gazing at him as they left.
"Whew. Truly remarkable."
Namgung Jinmyeong sighed in relief, wiping sweat.
"Yeah. It couldn't have been easy for him."
"I meant you."
"Pardon?"
"At barely thirty, receiving gratitude tokens from orthodox sects and unorthodox masters, bowing from the Iron Sword Sect lord—who else? Not even my son, or that Dragon Child, achieved this at your age. They just made names with martial prowess. Right?"