Never Refuse What's Given

The Butterfly Immortal's experience in the martial world was clearly no small thing. He briefly stopped Sun Wukong, who had been about to move out at once, and produced from somewhere a document soaked through with blood.

"This isn't their headquarters, so there wasn't much to find."

"What is ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it?"

"Part of a ledger."

Sun Wukong's eyes lit up.

"The assassination targets, the names of those who commissioned them — it's all here. The corresponding promissory notes are attached as well."

"Huh. You actually managed to find that."

Sun Wukong stroked his chin.

An assassin guild's ledger. He didn't need anyone to explain it. He saw its value at a glance.

"This is only a fragment. Their headquarters will have a separate ledger recording every killing they've ever carried out. This one seems to contain only the contracts they received for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this particular outing."

"Meaning their real base is somewhere in Hubei."

"It'll be sitting empty. The rest of the ledgers will be there. And a fortune piled up besides."

Even this partial ledger made for grim reading. Assassination contracts targeting influential figures along the Hubei–Anhui border jumped off the page. And then there was the very last entry — an enormous sum in gold, and the name of the client.

"Hrm."

Sun Wukong stroked his chin. So they weren't just disposable pawns.

If they'd been mere underlings, they would have simply followed orders. They wouldn't have drawn up a formal contract and attached a ledger like this. More than anything, the word "undetermined" written in the target field caught his eye. They prepared this as a contingency.

Sun Wukong thought it through carefully. The black-clad assassins were highly skilled — he assessed them with cold objectivity. If he hadn't intervened, Geumgak would already have been captured. The assassins would have withdrawn swiftly, and the pursuit teams from the Wudang Sect, the Namgung Clan, and the Wulin Alliance, arriving too late, would have come up empty-handed.

An unforeseen variable that had thrown every plan into chaos. Exactly the situation they were in now. They'd even prepared a reserve force to account for the fatal variable that was Sun Wukong. So this isn't a relationship where one side simply issues orders and the other obeys no matter what.

That said, they weren't a completely separate organization either. Sun Wukong's mind raced. They've clearly formed a deep connection. But it wasn't a chain of command. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠It couldn't be dismissed, either. The Yusal Sect — a guild that supposedly couldn't even approach Anhui Province — had brought every last member. No amount of gold, however vast, would have been enough to explain that on its own.

According to the spider kids, there are several organizations.

The Shandong Seven Shadows and Baek-an-magun belonged to the Dosan Sect of Shandong. Sa Hyeol-cheol-gwi, Honse-mawang, and Gunei Nosa were of the Geohae Sect in Hubei. Sun Wukong guessed that these black-clad assassins were probably affiliated with the Geohae Sect of Hubei as well. Even if the Yusal Sect is based in Hubei, the nature of an assassin guild means they could belong to an entirely different faction.

He had a gut feeling that the Yusal Sect was connected to yet another organization — one distinct from both the Geohae Sect and the Dosan Sect that had already shown themselves. And these bastards have money. A lot of it.

The commission listed alongside the contract was staggering. Even Sun Wukong, who was utterly detached from material wealth, let out a hollow laugh at the sheer scale of it.

"An enormous sum. They were clearly dead serious about this operation."

Sun Wukong found himself oddly amused.

"They just threw all that gold into the wind."

With the Yusal Sect wiped out, that gold might as well have been scattered into empty air.

The Butterfly Immortal shook his head.

"Not quite. It's probably sitting in their vault."

He handed the ledger and the assorted documents to Sun Wukong as if it were nothing. Sun Wukong took them, then looked at the Butterfly Immortal in silence.

"This will be an immense fortune. Not merely the gold, but everything tied to the Yusal Sect's ledgers."

"You're the one who found it, though."

"What use would an old man like me have for it?"

Sun Wukong smiled faintly. A look of serene detachment settled over the Butterfly Immortal's face.

"A thing should go to the one who can actually put it to use. From what I can see, you weren't merely involved in this incident — you were their original target all along."

Sun Wukong grinned and nodded at that sharp observation. The vision of an old master who had survived a full sixty years in the martial world was both broad and razor-sharp.

"Which is why I thought you might need this. Tracking is always easier when you have a lead, is it not?"

"Well now. I'm the type who never turns down what's given."

"This humble Daoist received a great enlightenment from your teaching. How could this possibly repay even a fraction of that kindness?"

Namgung Seowol looked at the Butterfly Immortal with pity in her eyes. Sun Wukong shot her a subtle look.

"Keep cultivating. Then you'll be able to ascend."

"Ascend? Heh heh heh. How could a deficient Daoist like myself ever manage such a thing?"

Looking up at the Butterfly Immortal as he laughed so freely, Seowol couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Sun Wukong gently nudged her aside.

"When the chance comes, he'll ascend again."

"Again?"

"Come on, let's go. We're short on time."

"Good grief. What a circus."

The whole of Anhui was gripped by a strange fever. Namgung Jinbaek narrowed his eyes and surveyed his surroundings.

Martial artists everywhere. A tangle of rumors pouring into his ears. Not a single thing was certain. There was only one rumor — and on the strength of that hearsay alone, martial artists had poured in from every corner of Anhui Province and from neighboring Hubei besides.

"Once this business is finished and we return to the clan, we'll need a thorough overhaul."

Namgung Jinbaek felt the necessity of it keenly. This was Anhui Province, without question. But the Namgung Clan was so small in scale that they were busy enough just maintaining their hold on Hefei.

"We'll establish small outposts at key points, so we can respond as a first priority whenever something happens."

The Namgung Clan had few martial artists. Even if the critical locations were few, they couldn't fill every one of them with warriors. Dispatching a single person would accomplish nothing at all.

"Do you intend to open the clan's gates to outsiders?"

Namgung Do, commander of the Changcheon Corps, asked the question carefully.

"We cannot remain bound by bloodline forever."

Namgung Jinbaek had sensed a dangerous current running through the incidents of recent days. Things are already in motion. The shape of it was still unclear. The purpose, too, remained unknown. What was certain was that something was already unfolding in the shadows. The Namgung Clan had to change as well.

"Even if this is the outskirts of Anhui, they dared to pull a stunt like this without fearing the Namgung Clan."

Namgung Jinbaek's eyes flashed with a cold light. Rumors swirling in every direction, martial artists drawn to them like moths to a flame. For all the title of Anhui's overlord, the Namgung Clan had failed to control any of it — or even to take hold of it.

"But if we throw the gates wide open to the outside, then as with the catastrophe of before…"

Namgung Do spoke with caution. He let the sentence trail off, but there was no mistaking his meaning.

The early days of the war with the Sama Order. The many experts, maidservants, servants, craftsmen, scholars, and merchants taken in from outside — and the spies and assassins mixed in among them. That was why, after the war, the Namgung Clan had become so closed off it was practically under sealed-gate seclusion.

Namgung Jinbaek shook his head.

"If spies come in, we root them out. If assassins show up, we beat them to death. That is all."

A strange heat poured off him. He had made up his mind. Namgung Do said nothing more and bowed his head. When the clan lord set his will, every member of the clan followed with everything they had. That was the law of the Namgung Clan.

"Not a single enemy who has entered Anhui will be left alive."

"As you command."

Namgung Do's eyes burned as well. After ascending to the position of clan lord, Namgung Jinbaek had withdrawn from the battlefields where countless fights took place — but at the height of the war, the man who had fought on the front lines as commander of the Changcheon Corps had been none other than Namgung Jinbaek himself. Namgung Do felt that same overbearing will from him now.

That was when it happened.

Something tore through the sky at tremendous speed. Namgung Do felt the presence and spun around, his hand flying to his sword — and in that same instant, a snow-white owl spread its wings wide and wheeled overhead.

"The white owl."

A look of welcome crossed Namgung Jinbaek's face. Myodu-eung never left Sun Wukong's side. That meant Sun Wukong was nearby.

But the owl showed no sign of settling near Namgung Jinbaek. It beat its wings roughly, circling and circling.

Namgung Jinbaek's eyes went still. He raised a hand and called out.

"We change direction."

Namgung Do's brow twitched. Puzzlement flickered across his face, but one look at Namgung Jinbaek — calm to the point of being frightening — and he let it go. That creature is no ordinary spirit beast. Those urgent wingbeats, the direction it kept pointing toward — all of it looked like a summons, a demand ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to come quickly.

"Full speed!"

Namgung Jinbaek's eyes flashed.

"Let us head to the Namgung Clan Estate first."

Muyoung made the decision. Namgung Cheonyeong agreed.

"We have no idea how close the pursuit teams from the Wudang Sect or the Wulin Alliance might be. The Namgung Clan Estate is the safest place."

"When you fellow Daoists wish to aid this humble one, what opinion could I possibly have?"

Geumgak agreed as well.

It sounded only natural — but beneath the surface, it was anything but simple. Geumgak was the personal disciple of the Wudang Sect Leader, and a man reputed to surpass even the Wudang elders in Daoist scholarship. And now his person would be passing inside the walls of the Namgung Clan Estate — a place no one could enter, and from which, once entered, no one could leave.

Holding him would be no difficult matter. He is unwell. He wishes to receive instruction in the Dao. He is being treated with every courtesy as a guest. Any number of excuses could keep him at the Namgung Clan Estate for a very long time. It wasn't as though the Wudang Sect could draw their swords and storm the gates of a clan that had done them a kindness, demanding he be handed back.

"I shall never forget this kindness from the Namgung."

"Kindness? As fellow travelers of the martial world, as brothers of the orthodox path — is this not simply what one does?"

There was nothing more to pack or prepare. But a worry remained. Perhaps because he's a scholar of the Dao, his martial skill isn't particularly high.

Even a Daoist scholar-disciple belonged to the Wudang Sect, and the Wudang was a martial order as much as a Daoist one. They maintained at least a minimum standard of martial arts. That Geumgak had managed to flee this far at all was thanks to Wudang lightness skill — the body-lightening technique he had learned directly from the Sect Leader. The problem was that his total internal energy was meager. His lightness skill is fast, but he can't sustain it for long.

Muyoung weighed his options. Would it be faster to meet Teacher Sun, or to make for the Namgung Clan Estate? Word had already reached Sun Wukong, so he would stop playing bait now and come following after them. After a moment's thought, Muyoung decided on the Namgung Clan Estate — a decision born of the fierce conviction that no enemy, whoever they might be, would dare violate those walls.

They finished preparing and were about to move at once when the fine hairs on the back of Muyoung's neck stood straight up. A presence flickered like a candle about to go out. His sword flashed from its sheath like a thunderbolt.

A violent clang rang out, and Muyoung's body was driven roughly backward. Namgung Cheonyeong, startled, drew his sword and moved to respond — but the enemy was nowhere to be seen. Before his eyes could even catch up, a slash came for his back.

A chilling sensation. Namgung Cheonyeong felt it on instinct. He's here.

The white-haired monster of a master who had shattered him in just two exchanges. Namgung Cheonyeong twisted his body violently. With a gruesome tearing crack, he barely managed to deflect the blade.

"Kh—!"

He swallowed the groan. The rebound force traveling through his wrist set the sword tip trembling. Muyoung, who had been driven back, immediately surged forward, and the faint shadow that had been about to cut Namgung Cheonyeong down took a single step back.

Steel screamed against steel, sparks flying as the blades locked in a savage tangle. Face gone deathly pale, Muyoung hastily retreated. Fast…!

A swift sword so fast it defied the eye. It came on like a savage wind — so fast that Namgung Cheonyeong, who had fully entered the Peak Realm, and Muyoung, who had only just stepped onto its threshold, could barely track it with their eyes. By the time the eye saw, the mind registered, and the body responded, it was already too late. They could only block on instinct, with senses carved into their bones through brutal training.

In that fleeting instant, before Geumgak could even understand what was happening, Namgung Muyoung and Cheonyeong were already gripping their swords, wounded. Before them, a masked old man stood upright with a blade in his hand. A mask that revealed only his eyes and mouth. Those lips curved in a faint smile.