The Dragon-Phoenix Conference (1)
The Dragon-Phoenix Conference was an official event hosted by the Murim Alliance.
Every year, the Alliance Leader’s direct subordinate organizations carefully selected participants, adding new names or removing old ones.
Just because someone had been chosen last year didn’t guarantee they would receive an invitation this year.
“I don’t know how fairly they actually pick people, but…”
On the surface, it was a gathering meant to foster friendship and exchange, but in reality, it was a suffocating battlefield where pride and honor clashed.
These were the most outstanding talents in the martial world. How fierce must their egos be?
Sometimes they extended hands in cooperation.
Sometimes they traded veiled threats and open competition.
And in the midst of it all, the true dragons and phoenixes revealed themselves.
“When you look at something like this, the orthodox faction really isn’t any different from the unorthodox ones. They’ve been encouraging factional strife since childhood.”
Despite his words, Seomun Hwan was genuinely interested in the Dragon-Phoenix Conference.
It wasn’t just that his parents had forced him to come.
Unlike what his mother and father hoped, he wasn’t here looking for a marriage partner. He wanted to see the faces of the attendees.
To his eyes, the peaceful martial world that everyone praised looked more like the calm before a storm.
The fact that the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult had stayed quiet all this time couldn’t simply be because they were recovering from their wounds.
‘They must have been trying to confirm whether my Ihon-daebeop truly succeeded.’
They would have been terrified.
Even the slightest chance that the Phantom Demon had succeeded in the soul transfer and regained his power meant he would never let them live.
So they had held their breath and searched meticulously.
For a full thirty years.
It was an extremely cautious approach, but…
‘Even they probably never imagined I would reincarnate.’
In the end, the Ihon-daebeop had failed.
Seomun Hwan had only been born twelve years after the death of the previous Phantom Demon.
‘Was it actually a reincarnation art instead? Whatever. The real problem is that they’ve started moving.’
The fact that the first one had begun to act meant the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult had finished its preparations as well.
History repeats itself.
War would break out soon.
The Seomun Clan would not escape the flames of that conflict.
That was why he needed to know.
Whether this martial world had the strength to stop a fully prepared Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
The participants of the Dragon-Phoenix Conference would serve as important milestones in gauging that.
“Young Master! We’ve arrived.”
The carriage stopped in front of the largest and most luxurious restaurant in Hangzhou.
It overlooked West Lake, the city’s most famous landmark.
The enormous six-story building had been rented entirely by the Murim Alliance for today’s event.
As Seomun Hwan approached, two sturdy men wearing uniforms marked with the Murim Alliance emblem stepped forward and bowed respectfully.
“Welcome, Young Hero Seomun Hwan. We’ve been expecting you.”
It seemed they had known he was coming.
As expected of personnel directly under the Alliance, even the guards gave off a strong, disciplined aura.
‘They really are sharp.’
Seomun Hwan gave a slight nod in return and asked,
“How many have gathered so far?”
“About half have arrived. Please go inside and rest for now. When the event begins, we will come to escort you.”
It seemed the program didn’t proceed in order of arrival. Everyone would gather at a fixed time.
Since it was his first time, he simply accepted it and followed them.
The room they led him to was a lavish, spacious chamber on the first floor.
It was large enough for twenty or thirty people to lie down comfortably.
“Seriously, what a waste of money.”
Having been born the son of a merchant family, his first instinct was always to calculate the cost.
In his previous life, he had spent money like water without a second thought.
Come to think of it, that was why the finance officer had once come crying, begging him to spend a little more moderately.
Even back then, when no one except the Cult Leader dared meet his eyes.
“More than anything, the thing that changed most is my personality. Haaam!”
He had never believed in the concept of innate nature.
He used to think it was just an excuse made by the incompetent and the lazy.
Born an orphan, he had clawed his way from the very bottom to the highest position through sheer effort.
But now, his thoughts had changed a little.
“Still, just thinking about those brats yapping away is already exhausting.”
No matter how much the so-called dragons and phoenixes of the martial world boasted, to him they were nothing but immature children.
“Haaam! By the way, when is this supposed to start? If they’re going to make me wait, they could at least bring me some alcohol.”
He decided to lie down and catch a quick nap while he had time.
How long had passed?
“Huh?”
Seomun Hwan sat up, sensing something strange.
“Look at this. These guys are playing quite an interesting game.”
At some point, the closed door had swung wide open, and in front of it now stood a staircase he had never seen before.
A staircase leading all the way to the top floor.
This hadn’t been built by anyone in the meantime.
Seomun Hwan casually placed his foot on the first step.
The moment he did, his vision twisted. Thick fog suddenly rolled in, and…
Whoooosh!
Wind began to blow. Even though they were clearly inside a completely enclosed building.
When he stepped back to his original spot, his vision returned to normal.
The fog and wind vanished completely.
“As expected, it’s a formation.”
A formation—a type of trap created through qimen dunjia.
Using yin-yang and the five elements, the eight trigrams and nine palaces, and the heavenly stems and earthly branches, it twisted reality to create an alternate space.
Inside it, qi came alive and warped, and even time began to flow according to its own whims.
What looked like an ordinary space from the outside became something entirely different the moment one stepped inside.
The most famous example was the Nine Palaces Eight Trigrams Formation that Zhuge Liang had used during the Battle of Red Cliffs.
“Interesting. Are they trying to test me?”
This wasn’t the work of assassins. It was a device prepared by the Murim Alliance.
They had deliberately made him wait on the first floor just to pull something like this.
“Who came up with such a cute little trick? I’m pretty sure I destroyed the Jegal Clan.”
Qimen dunjia and illusion arts were closely related.
Aside from the need for mediums like flags, rocks, or bamboo when creating formations, they could essentially be considered a type of illusion technique.
Just on a slightly larger scale, perhaps?
At least, that was how Seomun Hwan saw it.
“It’s like a puppy barking in front of a tiger.”
This was his area of expertise.
If he wanted, he could crush a formation of this scale without breaking a sweat.
“But that would stand out too much.”
Since he knew the first one had begun to move, he couldn’t reveal himself too openly.
It was annoying, but he decided to solve it the proper way.
Standing in front of the door, he stared at the staircase for a long time.
It looked like ordinary wood. Not a single trace of energy leaked out. A perfect disguise.
To normal senses, it would appear to be nothing more than a simple structure. But when viewed through eyes that could see through illusion arts and formations, the flow of qi veins between every gap became visible.
The structure was incredibly intricate and precise. It was clearly a formation crafted with great care by a considerable expert.
‘They even paid attention to a single staircase.’
His heart began to beat a little faster. It had been a while.
This wasn’t fear. It was interest.
One could only hesitate before an insurmountable wall, but an obstacle that could be broken brought a strange thrill.
To him, it was nothing more than an amusing toy.
‘This should be fun. I’ll take my time and dismantle exactly how you built it.’
Without hesitation, Seomun Hwan stepped onto the staircase.
Thud!
* * *
Meanwhile, on the top floor, five men and women sat together.
All of them had participated in the previous Dragon-Phoenix Conference.
They were the seniors who had passed the test before.
On their chests were slips of paper bearing their names and affiliations, but strangely, the color of the paper differed.
One was gold, two were silver, and the remaining three were plain white.
As they calmly sipped their tea, the man with a white slip reading “Mount Hua, Yeongho Jun” spoke first.
“So, who was invited this time? How many people total? You must know, right, Lady Gu?”
At his question, the woman with a white slip reading “Beggars’ Sect, Gu Ja-yun” paused with her hand halfway to a chicken leg and answered.
True to her Beggars’ Sect background, despite being a woman, she looked rather unkempt with messy hair.
She licked her fingers with clear regret and said,
“Of course I know. I heard there are ten people invited this time.”
“Oh! That many for this batch?”
“I never said it was a batch. Not all of them will pass the test anyway. Last year, six people challenged it and only one passed, right?”
Yeongho Jun smiled awkwardly at that.
“And that one was me. I still vividly remember fearlessly charging up to the fourth floor and then rolling all the way back down.”
The formation consisted of five gates, from the first floor to the sixth.
The difficulty rose sharply with each stage.
To be recognized as a participant in the Dragon-Phoenix Conference, one had to break through at least three stages.
Those who failed had to return home without even seeing the banquet hall after coming all the way to Hangzhou.
Those who stopped at the third floor received white slips. The fourth floor earned silver. Only those who overcame all five stages could wear a gold name tag on their chest.
Yeongho Jun grinned at the man wearing the gold name tag.
“By the way, it looks like the only one with gold this year is Young Hero Namgung.”
Namgung Cheon-hwi, wearing the gold tag, shook his head.
“That’s only because Monk Jeok-un of Shaolin didn’t attend this time.”
“Come on! Monk Jeok-un is already over twenty-five.”
Since this was an event for the younger generation, anyone over a certain age wouldn’t receive an invitation even if they had passed the test before.
Therefore, among the younger generation under twenty-five, Namgung Cheon-hwi of the Namgung Clan was considered the strongest.
It wasn’t surprising.
Namgung Cheon-hwi was the leading candidate to become the next head of the Namgung Clan.
He had been personally taught by his grandfather, one of the Seven Supremes, the Heavenly Martial Sword Emperor.
From a young age, he had displayed exceptional talent, and during the previous Dragon-Phoenix Conference, he had shown overwhelmingly superior skill.
The man with a white slip from the Peng Clan, Peng Yun-seong, also asked Gu Ja-yun,
“Lady Gu. What do you think? How is the level of those invited this time?”
“Well… I haven’t seen them in person.”
“When has the Beggars’ Sect ever judged people only after seeing them in person? With your incredible intelligence network, you already know everything about them before you even meet.”
“Even that information comes from beggars who saw them with their own eyes… Well, if that’s what you mean, then yes, I have a rough idea.”
“Anyone who stands out?”
“Just receiving an invitation means their names are already well-known throughout the martial world. Among them, the ones that catch the eye would obviously be Lady Hwa Yeong-ryeong of Mount Hua and Sir Hyeonhak of Wudang, right?”
At those words, everyone’s gaze turned toward Yeongho Jun and the silver-tagged man from Wudang, Hyeonjong.
Yeongho Jun spoke first, looking somewhat troubled.
“My junior sister has been remarkably clever since she was young. She’s also the sect leader’s daughter.”
Hyeonjong of Wudang spoke calmly.
“Junior Brother Hyeonhak has outstanding talent, but he’s far too reckless. I’m not sure how he’ll turn out.”
Gu Ja-yun continued.
“I heard the only daughter of the Hwangbo Clan single-handedly fought and defeated an entire Green Forest stronghold. The successor of the Moyong Clan supposedly swept away the northern barbarians. The greatest disciple of the Taishan Sect has never lost a single spar until now. And…”
Clap!
Gu Ja-yun suddenly clapped her hands as if she had just remembered.
“There was that person—no, that esteemed individual. The successor of Kunlun.”
Yeongho Jun’s eyes widened in shock.
“Wait, so the rumor was true? That Taeheo Singeom is still alive and has been raising a successor?”
“We in the Beggars’ Sect thought it was nonsense too, but… undeniable proof has appeared.”
“Proof? What is it?”
“The Taeheo Doryong Sword Art. The supreme divine skill that only the sect leader of Kunlun is allowed to learn has appeared in the world. Rather than me, that would be better known by…”
Gu Ja-yun turned her head toward the corner, where a woman of breathtaking beauty sat quietly sipping her tea.
“Lady Dang would know better than I do.”
At those words, Dang Mi-ju, who had been sitting quietly in the corner wearing a silver name tag, slowly lifted her head.