A Traitor Among the Nine
"Those bastards. I'm going to wreck every last one of them."
"Calm down."
Namgung Je-u stepped outside and reined Do-ha in. A little longer in that room and every sect leader would have taken a few more hits apiece.
"You've got it rough, huh."
"…"
Je-u snorted at Do-ha's words. He'd already been irritated enough; Do-ha had just scrubbed the frustration clean out of him. The problem was what came next. His friend had made him feel better, sure—but how was he supposed to soothe those men now?
"If you want help from the other sects, you have to protect their pride too."
"Pride, my ass. They'll do it if they don't want to die."
"Anyway—how the hell did you get this strong while I wasn't looking?"
Je-u had known Do-ha's growth rate was unreal, but this was too much even for that. How was he already at the Hwa-gyeong?
"Don't tell me you're Seventh Circle in magic too."
"Yep."
"…Every time I look at you, I feel smaller."
Je-u shook his head. He was starting to understand, just a little, why the Demon God had run from Do-ha the way he had.
"I heard the Jegal Clan stopped by not long ago."
"You got that from Jegal Myeong, huh?"
"I did. He said they took Jegal Seo-wol with them…"
Worry crept into Je-u's eyes. Anyone at Do-ha's side was not going to live an easy life—and Seo-wol had already turned into a delinquent once.
"Don't worry. He's doing fine."
"Just don't start throwing punches the second he ticks you off."
"I only hit him when the old habits slip out. Other than that, I don't lay a hand on him. What do you take me for, some thug…"
"…?"
Wait. Habits don't get fixed all at once. Which meant, in the end, he was still hitting him.
"But are you going to be okay?"
"About what?"
"The whole reason you were hiding your identity was the cult."
He hadn't announced that he was alive—not in the Western Continent, not in the Eastern. Only his friends and their families knew. Everyone else still believed the Absolute Being was dead. And now he had walked straight into a room full of sect leaders. His face was out in the open.
"It's fine. It's about time I let people know I exist."
If he wanted to root out the sects in bed with the cult, he had to become the bait himself. There had been two real reasons he'd stayed hidden this long. First: if the cult caught wind of him, the ones on Earth might go to ground. Second: his own realm. After the Demon God had stripped him of his power, a cult assault would have killed him before he could protect anyone—least of all his family. That wasn't true anymore. His grandfather had contracted with a Spirit King. He himself had climbed back to the Hwa-gyeong and the Seventh Circle.
"From here on, we fight out in the open. Like old times."
"Fair enough. You should've stopped by the Alliance last time you were here and given us a heads-up."
"Ah. You were pissed off back then, so I skipped it."
"I was pissed? Why would I—oh. Right!"
The memory hit. Je-u grabbed Do-ha by the collar and shook him hard.
"You absolute lunatic! The Absolute Being, and you robbed the Martial Alliance's armory?!"
"Hey, if you'd just given me the Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron, none of that would've happened!"
"Where the hell am I supposed to find dozens of kilos of Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron?!"
"And I didn't steal it! Canteas did!"
Canteas, who had been quietly chewing on jerky, jerked upright in pure horror.
That son of a bitch?! He was the one who ordered it—and now he was dumping the whole thing on him??
"Get over here! Do you have any idea how many years of budget you stole?!"
"Aaaagh! I—I'm innocent! Do—Do-ha! He made me do it!"
Canteas bolted. Je-u tore after him.
Do-ha watched them go, then turned back toward the door.
"Shall we head back in?"
Framing Canteas and sending Je-u chasing after him had been deliberate. Inside that room, the sect leaders were already scheming with their petty little brains—and he had every intention of wrecking them for it. Je-u might have talked him down, but Do-ha had no plans of letting those men walk away clean.
"The Absolute Being is back…"
"He's alive! They said he was dead!"
"I—I only heard he was dead! I never saw it myself!"
The sect leaders, terrified of Do-ha, jabbed fingers at one another and raised their voices. Namgung Je-u was soft-hearted; when the leaders pushed hard, he gave ground on more than half their demands. With Baek Do-ha back, that kind of thing was a dream. Getting away without a beating would already be a blessing. Open your mouth the wrong way, brush his nerves, and you wouldn't even get to die—you'd just suffer.
"I—if the Alliance Leader can just calm the Absolute Being down and send him away…"
"Oh, so now you lean on the Alliance Leader. You maggots."
"…"
Do-ha shoved the reception hall doors open and cut them down with pure contempt.
"How the hell are any of you righteous great sects? Everything you do reeks of the unorthodox path."
"…Now see here! However poorly we may have spoken, that is going too far!"
"Oh, is it? So I went too far with my words… But isn't going too far with words better than going too far with actions?"
Do-ha walked straight up to Song Ho, sect leader of the Cheongseong Sect, and threw a fist.
The impact cracked through the hall. Song Ho crumpled.
"…"
"…"
One punch. The sect leaders' faces went rigid. The Cheongseong sect leader was famous for his toughness—people joked Song Ho had climbed to the Hwa-gyeong on durability alone. He had once tanked demon assaults bare-bodied. And Do-ha's single punch had dropped him cold.
"Anyone else want a taste of me going too far?"
"…Do-ha. That is enough. Please, calm yourself."
Abbot Bongma of Shaolin, who had stayed quiet until now, spoke in a steady voice. He knew Do-ha's temper well—and he also knew that no matter how furious Do-ha got, he would not truly harm the men in this room.
"Haa. You lot are only alive thanks to Abbot Bongma. Remember that."
Do-ha dropped into the Alliance Leader's seat. No one but the master of the Alliance was supposed to sit there. No one said a word.
"Abbot Bongma. Have you been well?"
Do-ha looked at the gently smiling abbot. He didn't care much for Shaolin as a whole—but he liked Bongma. Decades ago, in a city reduced to rubble by a demon army, Abbot Bongma had stayed behind to the end, saving people. Even after the remaining troops withdrew, he had stayed alone and kept helping. He had gone days without eating himself and still given what little food he had to the starving—insisting that people who had lost homes and families to war at least deserved a full meal. Most of Shaolin were monks in name only: greedy, self-serving, stuffed with hypocrisy. Abbot Bongma was not.
"I get by well enough on the Buddha's grace, as always. And you—have you undergone Rejuvenation? You look younger than before."
"Something like that."
"I am truly glad you are alive."
Abbot Bongma smiled softly and nodded. It wasn't empty courtesy. He meant it. Call Do-ha a madman all you liked—when it came to saving people, the man was sincere to the bone.
"Doesn't look like the rest of them feel the same."
Do-ha turned his head toward the sect leaders biting their lips. Then he flicked something through the air.
Jegal Myeong, who had been sitting still, shot out a hand and caught it.
"Lord Do-ha—what is this?"
"From Seo-wol. He said he wanted his father to try the good food he's been eating while living with me. I stuffed a spatial bag full. Share it with the clan when you get home."
"Haha. That boy…"
The thought of his former delinquent of a son sending him something like this pulled a smile out of Jegal Myeong. He tried not to show it too much with the others watching—but the smile came anyway.
"Wow. You all sat nice and quiet while I talked to Abbot Bongma, but the second I speak with Jegal Myeong, you start glaring daggers at him. Especially you."
Do-ha pointed a finger at Maeng Hwi. He'd disliked the man from the moment he walked in. How had someone like that ended up as sect leader of Emei?
"Don't get jealous. Jegal Myeong pulled plenty of stupid stunts and got chewed out by me for it."
"Haha…"
Jegal Myeong scratched the back of his head. It was true—Do-ha had torn into him when he'd visited the clan.
"Anyway. Like Je-u said earlier: every sect picks ten disciples at First-Class or above and sends them to support the Western Continent."
Do-ha delivered it with his arms crossed, as a simple notice. Gwak Yong-cheol, sect leader of the Jongnam Sect, raised a hand.
"What."
"Absolute Being. The Western Continent already has Dimerof, Emilton—even Canteas. The Magic Tower could handle this. I don't understand why we need to send support."
"Excellent question. Come here."
Do-ha smiled and crooked a finger. Gwak Yong-cheol stood and approached.
The moment he got close enough, Do-ha smacked him. Gwak Yong-cheol clutched his head with a choked sound.
"You used to be a sharp kid. Get a little comfortable and suddenly you're an idiot? We're asking for support because even with all those people already moving, it's still not enough. You think everyone else is sitting around on their asses making the murim do the work? The Western Continent is several times larger than the East. You keep forgetting that. Right? Try using your brain."
"I—I'm sorry."
Thoroughly dressed down, Gwak Yong-cheol slunk back to his seat.
"And Maeng Hwi."
"Yes?!"
Maeng Hwi shot to his feet in pure panic.
"Sit."
"Y-yes…"
"One more time—just one more time—you threaten to pull Emei out of the Nine Great Sects with that garbage, and you really will die. Clear?"
"…Yes."
"And for the record, Emei is never leaving the Nine Great Sects."
"?"
"If it comes to it, I'll just quietly replace the sect leader."
"…"
At that bone-chilling warning, Maeng Hwi swallowed hard without meaning to. From anyone else it would have been an insult worth rage. From the Absolute Being, it did not sound like a joke.
The door creaked. Namgung Je-u and Canteas returned to the reception hall. Their ridiculous little farce had been a deliberate exit—to give Do-ha room.
"Anyway. You're all probably wondering why I showed up out of nowhere."
With Je-u and Canteas back, Do-ha moved to the real point. Je-u needed to hear this too.
Do-ha said nothing further. He simply watched the people around him with careful, deliberate attention. The sect leaders swallowed.
Why stop mid-sentence and just stare?
"You all know Furcas, right?"
"Yes."
The leaders glanced at one another and nodded. A demon of the fiftieth rank of the nobility.
"One of you has made a deal with Furcas."
Every mouth in the reception hall fell open in shock.
Do—Do-ha. That…
Yeah. It's true.
Je-u's telepathic voice reached him; Do-ha answered at once.
"So. Who could it be? Which of the Nine Great Sects shook hands with Furcas."
Chin propped on his hand, Do-ha began studying the sect leaders' faces one by one.