Pride and Sloth (2)
The Seomun Clan’s merchant caravan stretched out in a long line, wheels turning steadily down the road.
Clip-clop! Clip-clop! Clip-clop!
It was a trade expedition headed for Guizhou. Every wagon brimmed with rare silks, ornaments, and other precious goods.
This particular journey had begun at the direct request of the imperial palace, which had specifically chosen the Seomun Trading Company. It was a golden opportunity to forge connections with high-ranking officials like the Military Governor and the Inspector-General.
For the company’s leader, Seomun Dam, to personally oversee the expedition was only natural.
So far, the journey had gone remarkably smoothly.
Right up until they reached Gwilyeongsan.
“Whoa! Halt!”
The entire mountain was shrouded in thick fog. But this was no ordinary mist. It writhed and twisted like a mass of wriggling larvae. Pale, hazy energy hung suspended in the air, billowing upward in slow, ominous clouds.
“This is…”
The captain of the guards dismounted and pressed a hand to the ground, his brow furrowing deeply.
“Gwilyeongsan has always been notorious for its treacherous terrain. Even in broad daylight, countless travelers have lost their footing and plummeted to their deaths. Trying to push through fog like this… it’s simply too dangerous.”
A sinister aura radiated from the mountain. The frightened laborers swallowed dryly, and the horses refused to take another step. Some snorted and backed away, ignoring every tug of the reins from their drivers.
“What in the world…”
Seomun Dam stepped out of his carriage. He straightened his collar with deliberate care and quietly gazed beyond the fog.
Around the entrance to Gwilyeongsan, numerous other merchant caravans had already set up camp. Like the Seomun group, they were all stranded, unable to cross the dense sea of mist.
Among them were the Hongmun Trading Company and the Taishan Trading Company—both mid-to-upper-tier powers in the jianghu—yet even they stood helplessly stuck.
Seomun Dam approached the manager of the Hongmun Company, who was pacing anxiously nearby, and asked, “Was Gwilyeongsan always like this?”
“No, sir. When we passed through last month, the path was clear and there wasn’t a trace of fog. But suddenly… this.”
It was the middle of a bright, sunny day. For such heavy mist to linger was anything but normal.
Then someone from another company spoke up cautiously.
“Lately, there have been quite a few rumors about something emerging from Gwilyeongsan.”
As if those words had opened the floodgates, testimonies began pouring out.
“I heard many people in the nearby villages have suffered strange calamities. They say bizarre beasts attacked them.”
“At first they thought it was just animals, but every witness described something different.”
“The rumors call them monsters, demons, vengeful spirits… all sorts of things.”
Seomun Dam frowned at the fog and muttered, “Demons? What utter nonsense.”
Though normally cautious and prudent, Seomun Dam was not the type to be swayed by ghost stories or superstition. There was no such thing as demons in this world. The naïve herb gatherers had probably just mistaken shadows of wild animals for something sinister.
“We cannot delay the schedule.”
This was no ordinary commission. It had come directly from the imperial palace. Giving up or falling behind because of mere rumors was out of the question.
Still, the laborers’ faces were pale with fear. Seomun Dam clicked his tongue in reluctant acceptance.
“Since we’ve already lost today, we’ll rest in the nearby village tonight and set out again at first light tomorrow.”
Fortunately, they had a day or two of leeway. The workers let out sighs of relief and headed toward the village.
While resting there, the managers of the various companies naturally gathered for a meeting. Although the Seomun Trading Company was the smallest in scale, the conversation revolved entirely around Seomun Dam.
“Hehe, so your youngest son is the successor of the Kunlun Sect?”
“Is that all? Isn’t he also a member of the Dragon Phoenix Assembly? One of the rising stars officially recognized by the Murim Alliance.”
“Manager Seomun, you’ve truly raised your children well. Who would have thought your youngest would become such an extraordinary figure!”
“Being part of the Dragon Phoenix Assembly means his name has been carved among the very pinnacle of the jianghu. I’m genuinely envious.”
“My own son still can’t even find a wife and just loiters around gambling dens… You really are blessed, Manager Seomun.”
As the praise poured in from every direction, Seomun Dam waved his hands with feigned humility.
“Hahaha! You flatter me. It’s all thanks to my Hwan working hard on his own.”
Though he spoke modestly, his eyes shone with unmistakable pride and affection.
“Since we’ve met like this by fate, allow me to treat everyone to dinner tonight. Hehe!”
Seomun Dam had always been extremely frugal—some might even call him stingy. No matter how full his storehouses grew, he had never wasted a single coin in his life.
Yet now he was spending so freely. Even though it was a considerable expense, he didn’t feel the slightest regret.
After the modest banquet ended, the merchants returned to their lodgings to rest.
Deep into the night, the village fell silent. The small inn had long been wrapped in stillness.
Yet while everyone else slept, one person remained wide awake.
Rustle. Rustle.
Seomun Hwan sat beneath a dim lantern, flipping through ledgers. He was carefully calculating supplies and personnel arrangements, searching for the best way to cross Gwilyeongsan the next day.
“Hmm. If the horses won’t listen, we’ll have no choice but to reduce the number of wagons as much as possible.”
In the quiet breathing of the night, his eyelids suddenly began to droop.
“Something feels… off…”
An irresistible wave of drowsiness crashed over him. Without even spreading his blanket, he nodded off, slumping against the desk and falling into a deep sleep.
Or rather, he had been put to sleep.
And at that very moment—
In the room where Seomun Dam was staying, a shadow cast along the wall began to writhe.
At first it was so faint it might have been a trick of the wind, but soon it grew clearer, gaining definition.
It was a massive shadow. Like living ink, it crawled across the walls and floor, swallowing the entire room.
[Growl…!]
Though no sound should have been audible, the air itself seemed to vibrate.
The shadow twisted into the shape of a beast, then suddenly opened an enormous maw.
[ROOOAAAR!]
The air inside the room tore and twisted violently. Black, fang-like energy gleamed as it lunged to swallow Seomun Dam whole—
[Kek!!]
The shadow convulsed as if struck by a heavy blow, losing its center and writhing. It twisted, shuddered, and looked as though it were forcibly vomiting something out.
At that exact moment, a voice rang out from behind it.
“A mere low-grade spirit like you… could never break through my talisman.”
Seomun Hwan stepped out from the corner of the room, where he had been standing silently behind the door.
The killing intent and demonic energy emanating from the shadow would have been enough to suffocate even a master of the murim. Yet Seomun Hwan walked forward with perfect calm.
A single talisman had been carefully placed inside his father’s collar—just in case. It had successfully blocked the monster’s power.
The shadow twisted toward him in shock.
Whoosh.
It stretched out like a chain, shooting straight for Seomun Hwan’s throat with the ferocity of a beast baring its fangs.
“Tsk. A pathetic little ghost.”
Seomun Hwan flicked his finger once.
Flick.
With that single, casual motion—
[KYAAAAAAGH!]
The shadow couldn’t even scream before it was torn apart. The black energy shattered into countless pieces in midair, then scattered like ashes on the wind.
The air grew still once more. The dying lantern flame flickered without a breath of wind.
Seomun Hwan quietly approached his father.
Seomun Dam was still sound asleep, breathing peacefully. When Seomun Hwan gently placed a hand on his back…
“Mmm… Hwan-ah.”
Was he still caught in the afterglow of the banquet? A proud smile lingered on his father’s lips as he murmured his son’s name.
Seomun Hwan smiled, a little embarrassed, then carefully laid his father down on the bedding and pulled the blanket up over him.
“Sleep well, Father.”
He quietly closed the door behind him. From within came the steady, peaceful breathing of his soundly sleeping father. Yet that very tranquility made his chest burn even hotter.
His eyes slowly began to glow crimson.
“How dare you!”
His low voice dripped with fury sharp enough to tear the air itself.
“You tried to harm my father?”
The air inside the room trembled as though heated. Seomun Hwan’s rage was not something he could simply swallow.
Grinding his teeth, he kicked open the door and stormed out.
Tap, tap, tap!
As he strode through the night air, someone was already waiting for him in the inn’s courtyard.
Beneath the pale moonlight, black robes fluttered in unison. They were members of Haomun—not mere spies, but elite operatives.
Having shed their disguises and changed into dark uniforms, they stood in silent formation like living shadows.
At their center stood a woman with crimson eyes. Her gaze was both chilling and captivating. In her hand she held a silk fan, its edges lined with razor-thin silver threads that gleamed like frost.
It was Hongran, leader of Haomun.
She slowly unfurled her fan and bowed deeply toward Seomun Hwan with utmost respect.
“This junior greets the Young Master!”
The dozen or so Haomun members behind her bowed in perfect, disciplined unison.
Seomun Hwan swept his gaze over them before speaking in his usual lazy tone.
“What brings the leader herself all the way out here? Have things gotten so boring lately?”
“This concerns none other than you, Young Master. How could I possibly neglect it?”
She always maintained a gentle, courteous demeanor, but that was merely the polite mask she wore to preserve Haomun’s public image.
The respect she showed now, however, was no mere formality.
She genuinely revered and respected Seomun Hwan from the bottom of her heart.
The true value of the martial arts he had bestowed upon her was beyond imagination. It wasn’t just movement techniques or stealth arts—it was the very essence of Haomun’s core philosophy given form through martial arts.
To Haomun, Seomun Hwan was not a simple client, but a benefactor who had resolved their long-standing dilemma.
Seomun Hwan studied her quietly. Her neat attire, perfectly controlled breathing, and the subtle pulse of inner energy she couldn’t quite hide.
“The mental cultivation method I gave you has already reached the fourth stage? Not bad at all.”
Hongran’s shoulders trembled slightly. She knew he was not one to offer empty praise.
“Thank you, Young Master.”
She bowed her head low in gratitude. Seomun Hwan murmured almost to himself, “I was a little curious. How a girl so young managed to become the leader of Haomun.”
At those words, Hongran lowered her gaze for a moment.
She had heard those same looks and questions countless times before. The rudeness and prejudice that always followed.
But today was different.
There was no mockery in Seomun Hwan’s voice.
“Now I understand. Your talent for martial arts is truly exceptional. If you had been born into a prestigious clan, you would have been invited to the Dragon Phoenix Assembly as well.”
His gaze was sharp yet warm. His tone was cool, but it carried genuine sincerity.
Hongran had never been acknowledged like this before. She bowed her head once more, filled with gratitude.
“More importantly, what exactly is happening here? The thing that targeted my father earlier was a real demon. It’s rare for a creature that lurks in darkness to run wild inside a human village.”
Hongran nodded quietly, then pulled out a thick bundle of documents from her robes. Though the paper was thin, it had been tightly bound with leather straps so it wouldn’t scatter in the wind.
“The information I sent you a few days ago was only the preliminary report from our scouting team. Since then, I have dispatched Haomun’s elite operatives directly under my command to conduct a much deeper investigation and pursuit.”
Seomun Hwan nodded and accepted the documents, unfolding them beneath the moonlight. Neatly written records filled the pages.
Missing persons cases around Yeonga, sightings of bizarre animals near Gwilyeongsan, unexplained illnesses, sudden outbursts of violence, and more.
“You’ve investigated quite thoroughly.”
“We haven’t identified the exact cause yet, but after organizing the records, it became clear that every incident originated from the same point deep inside Gwilyeongsan.”
Hongran looked directly into his eyes and added, “That location appears once in an ancient text. A nameless cave. It is called Mujuhyeol, the Ownerless Cave.”
“Mujuhyeol?”
“Yes. More precisely, it is a gap in a spiritual vein that never had an owner. Legend says a power no one could control was sealed there and left behind.”
Seomun Hwan examined the documents carefully for a long time.
“I see. Now it all makes sense.”
The corner of his mouth slowly curved upward.
“It’s not ghosts or vengeful spirits running amok. Right now, inside Gwilyeongsan… a single spirit creature is about to be born.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“If a powerful spirit beast has caused the cave to lose its balance of spiritual energy, then that place has already transformed into something like a womb.”
Hongran swallowed hard.
“A… womb?”
“Exactly. The primordial birthplace where the essence of mountains and rivers condenses to give birth to new life.”
Seomun Hwan suddenly lifted his head and gazed into the darkness of Gwilyeongsan. The fog was still as thick as blood, and from deep within the mountain range, an eerie energy pulsed as though something was stirring to life.
“That power is drawing in every scavenger that desires it. Evil spirits, demonic entities, monsters—they’re all just parasites trying to feed off the birth of this spirit creature.”
Thankfully, there was no grand conspiracy at play. His father had simply been unlucky enough to get caught up in the middle of it.
Even so, he couldn’t just let it be. He still needed to complete the imperial commission he had received.
“In that case…”
A rather excellent idea occurred to him.
“I suppose I’ll just take it for myself.”