The Mantis That Blocks the Chariot

Part Twelve: The Mantis Against the Wheel

Luoyang Sword House, the Elder Council.

By custom, free entry to the Elder Council of the Luoyang Sword House was reserved for those of rank equal to an elder — or for those granted exceptional leave by the house laws.

It was, therefore, a place no one without business had any reason to visit.

"…Ho. To meet in a place like this."

"Hahaha. With a spectacle this grand unfolding — how could I possibly stay away?"

And yet the great road before the Elder Council's main gate seethed with crowds today.

"Have you heard?"

"Of course we've heard. Why else would everyone be gathered here?"

"In effect, they say the Eldest Young Master has already declared war on the Elder Council."

Just as their talk suggested, the Eldest Young Master's movements since that morning had drawn the eyes of the entire Sword House — within its walls and beyond them.

"Hmm…"

One man stroked a short chin-beard, set apart from the press of bodies on the road below. He sat in a teahouse opposite the Elder Council and looked down upon the thoroughfare.

The teahouse was an annex of the Elder Council itself, and so was subject to the same restrictions of entry. That alone marked him as no ordinary man.

"Hobop Court in the morning… and the Elder Council in the afternoon…"

On any other day, the restrained coughs of self-important men would have filled the air. Today those same men whispered until their mouths went dry.

"The Eldest Young Master may enjoy the attention he draws — but this is beyond all reason. To turn the entire Elder Council into his enemy overnight…"

Someone clicked his tongue under his breath.

"He's lost his mind. Completely lost his mind."

Another shook his head as if he could scarcely believe it.

"Just because people have started treating him like the Eldest Young Master again, does he honestly think he's become the acting family head?!"

Spittle flew as the speaker worked himself into a fury.

"Isn't this the mantis throwing itself against the chariot wheel of Duke Zhuang of Qi?"

"Call him a divine calculator or whatever you like — at the end of the day, he's still a child barely past coming of age."

They made no effort to hide their hostility toward Yeon So-hyeon, and they shared one thing in common.

"The Eldest Young Master will pay the price for slighting our bloodline."

They were, without exception, of the Yeon clan by blood — kin of the Luoyang Sword House.

"For a child like that to lead the main house is absurd!"

"For the sake of this house's future, it cannot be allowed."

"Have you heard the reports? That he made enemies of the Sixteen Imperial Families in the capital and took the side of an emperor who was little better than a prisoner?"

"Unbelievable."

"The day that Eldest Young Master becomes the Young Family Head ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠will be the day our Sword House falls."

They made a fine show of fretting over the house's future. Their true thoughts, of course, ran in an entirely different direction.

As if speaking by sound transmission could hide the rot in those words.

Filthy old men.

The middle-aged man at the window clicked his tongue inwardly at the sight of them.

Main house or branch family — from the top down, we're all equally rotten.

"…Strange."

The middle-aged man of the Yeon branch family, still watching the corrupt kin below, turned at the muttered word from across the table.

"Strange, you say? What have you been staring at so intently all ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this time?"

At his question, the short-bearded young man who had been gazing outside answered without taking his eyes from the road.

"I can understand why our blood kin are thronging this teahouse."

"There's been chaos since morning. Of course everyone would gather to see how things turn out."

"True enough. Those old men have ears everywhere. But…"

The short-bearded youth raised a hand and pointed down at the great road.

"What about them? How did they hear the news so quickly and flock here in such numbers?"

Those already ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠well-versed in the Sword House's internal intelligence and the shape of its power might manage it. For most people, this affair was far too tangled to grasp at a glance.

"…That is—"

"And the rumor is spreading too fast. Eventually it will reach the market streets of Luoyang, of course — but doesn't the speed itself feel wrong to you?"

Hearing that, the middle-aged man looked down again, and the scene below took on an entirely different cast.

"Stand back!"

"Clear the road — step away, I said!"

Warriors of the Elder Council and security officers poured sweat as they shoved at the crowd, trying to hold the entrance open. The throng was so dense that even the Elder Council's own fighters — men of no small inner power and impressive records — looked hard-pressed.

"…Then someone leaked the rumor deliberately?"

The short-bearded youth nodded at the older man's words.

"Not merely leaked it."

His eyes narrowed.

"They organized the information so it was easy to understand, refined it, and shaped it so that most of the main house would seize on it at once with interest. They optimized the whole structure into the form of a rumor — made it ready to travel."

The work of a professional. A first-rate one, at that — the hand of a seasoned master.

"…Who on earth?"

The middle-aged man's question never found its end.

"The Eldest Young Master of the main house arrives!"

Those who had been half-wrestling with the guards fell silent. The high-ranking Yeon blood kin who had been trading their damp, furtive sound transmissions fell silent as well. Without distinction, every mouth closed, and every gaze turned toward a single direction in the distance.

Like the middle-aged man beside him, the short-bearded youth set his questions aside, rose sharply from his seat, and looked the way every eye had gone.

Beyond the broad avenue where summer heat-haze shimmered, a procession of women came into view first.

Those are…

The refined attire of Wongak-jeong and the light touch of cosmetics made their beauty dazzling — yet their true presence lay elsewhere: in the orderly, ground-steady cadence of their steps; in the sharp eyes that sealed every approach with vigilance; and in the single sword each of them wore at her side.

The warriors of Wongak-jeong.

At first they had been dismissed as a cruel hobby of the Eldest Young Master — a way to flaunt that he could use precious martial artists as mere maidservants. The maid corps of Wongak-jeong.

"What a fierce air they carry."

Soft whispers passed through the crowd.

"…Are those the asura of the Valley of Sin?"

"They call them the divine army that guards the sacred land, too."

"I heard they all but butchered the vicious martial artists of Luoyang."

Their standing had changed completely after the chain of events that had gone before.

And after that maid corps came a figure who drew the eye as naturally as breath.

Clank. Clank.

Five swords. A savage presence and a face that called a rakshasa to mind. No one present knew him personally — and yet there was not a soul who failed to recognize him.

"…Tal-myeong-gwi-geom."

"The fiercest sword of the Sword House."

Long years had passed, but his name had not faded. If anything, it burned more vividly than ever.

"…So it's true he offered his sword to the Eldest Young Master."

"The rumor was fact after all."

What appeared next after Tal-myeong-gwi-geom was a man who stood as a living emblem of the Luoyang Sword House's martial might.

"H-he's huge, just as they said."

"Look at that greatsword."

"They say he raised an earthquake through Luoyang City with a single strike of that blade…!"

A man of overwhelming height and bulk, jutting up from the heart of the procession — Geomak Pasan, Yeom Gwak-chu.

"The hero of the Northern War!"

But the Yeon blood kin watching from the teahouse reacted very differently from the crowd below.

"If Elder Yeom is walking in that procession—"

"Does that mean he's openly declaring himself part of the Eldest Young Master's faction?"

And of all times, now — while the Elder Council was already seething.

"Aigoo, tsk tsk."

Their moods soured; they cleared their throats and clicked their tongues. One of them, watching the faces around him, spoke to the short-bearded youth by sound transmission.

The short-bearded youth knew perfectly well what his subordinate meant. Even so, he spoke the answer aloud without the slightest regard for those around him.

"His intent is clear enough. In this affair he means to stand openly with the Eldest Young Master and lend him his strength."

At once, knife-edged stares flew from every side.

"A-ahem."

The middle-aged man broke into a cold sweat and floundered. The short-bearded youth paid it no mind and pointed farther along the line.

"And it seems Elder Yeom is not the only one who has taken the Eldest Young Master's side."

The eyes of the Yeon blood kin narrowed as they watched the approaching procession. Elder Yeom had simply been the first to catch the eye because of his height and bulk. At his side walked a dozen other figures.

"That's Elder Yu."

Someone recognized the old woman with her white hair neatly coiled and clicked his tongue.

"Not only her."

"Aren't all of those the elders who used to support the Fourth Young Master…?!"

The men and women ranked beside Elder Yu were, without question, elders long known as belonging to the Fourth Young Master's faction.

"For them to join the Eldest Young Master's procession in a situation like this, rather than the Fourth Young Master's…"

What did that sight mean?

One of the Yeon blood kin spoke aloud the answer no one had wanted to name.

"So the rumor was true — that the Fourth Young Master has not merely formed an alliance or partnership, but decided to place himself under the Eldest Young Master…"

"Then the other rumor as well? That the two factions are pushing to become one?"

"It must be true."

As their faces darkened with the talk, the short-bearded youth stroked his chin with a look of keen interest.

The Fourth Young Master has decided to go under the Eldest Young Master—?

He had met the Fourth Young Master once before, and so he knew well what a rare talent Yeon Bi was. For a man like that to place himself beneath the Eldest Young Master…

If the Fourth Young Master had been a lesser man to begin with, it might be different. The internal resistance should have been enormous.

And yet what was the result?

With the entire Elder Council effectively standing against the Eldest Young Master, the elders of the Fourth Young Master's faction were, for all to see, walking in Yeon So-hyeon's procession.

There could be only one conclusion.

The Eldest Young Master must be that exceptional a man.

His face lit with growing anticipation as he fixed his attention on the line.

I want to see the face of this so-called extraordinary Eldest Young Master.

"Still — for the Fourth Young Master's faction, there are rather a lot of people, aren't there…?"

As if in answer to the middle-aged man's doubt—

"Wait — that man?!"

One of the Yeon blood kin pointed at the elders' procession with a face gone pale with shock.

"Isn't that Elder Ham and his faction?!"

"Elder Ham, you say?!"

Stunned men forgot their dignity and pressed against the windows, craning for a better look outside.

"Isn't Elder Ham the Deputy Head of the Elder Council?!"

"The Deputy Head has gone over to the Eldest Young Master's power?!"

Surrounded by the elders of his own faction, an old man was trading conversation without a trace of tension, flashing a gold tooth as he spoke. There was no mistaking him — Elder Ham, Deputy Head of the Elder Council.

This…!

The faces of the Yeon blood kin peering down went steadily worse.

Why is the Deputy Head walking with the Eldest Young Master?

A man who was aiming for the next seat as Head of the Council — why?

Everyone present began to feel it: the invisible scales of power were tipping, unmistakably, before their eyes.

…The Eldest Young Master has brought the Deputy Head over to his side in a situation like this? How?

The short-bearded youth turned his gaze toward the Elder Council itself.

There stood the elders who had come out, if only for form's sake, to receive the Eldest Young Master. He could see clearly how their faces, as they muttered among themselves, had gone dark and mottled with rage and dismay.

This grows more interesting by the moment.

One of the elders who had come out in formal welcome raised his voice in a low cry.

"What in heaven's name is going on…?!"

And he was far from the only one stirred up.

"The Deputy Head, joining a successor's faction…?!"

"At the very least, a Deputy Head ought to maintain political neutrality…?!"

A quiet roar from a senior elder of heavyweight standing cut across them.

"When the opponent is the Eldest Young Master, what did you expect? Of course something this far outside prediction was going to happen…!"

The senior elder pressed on.

"Even so, our numbers are overwhelming, and decisions are made by vote, are they not? What's with all this fuss?"

He cast a look around him, making no secret of his displeasure.

"In a fight we ought to win, instead of claiming a dignified victory we let ourselves be seized by the initiative first — and in front of this throng, no less."

The elders who had been reeling forced their expressions back under control. The senior elder's tongue-click came to them all the same.

"Aigoo, tsk tsk…"

What good was managing their faces now? The crowd had already watched the elders' dismay from afar with their own eyes.

"Indeed."

The word of agreement did not come from among the elders.

"To think the elders of the main house would show such fluster over a matter of this size."

The halted procession parted. Elder Yeom and the other elders with him stepped into the open front. As those elders withdrew with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠careful courtesy, the owner of the voice appeared between them.

"I find myself worried that before this day is out, the dignity of the great Luoyang Sword House's Elder Council may take a serious wound."

A black silk coat hung from his shoulders and stirred in the wind. His tone was thick with arrogant mockery. His eyes looked down upon the elders with his chin raised.

"…Before you concern yourself so carefully with the Elder Council's face, perhaps you might attend first to the face you yourself are about to lose?"

The senior elder bared his teeth at the man smiling that twisted smile beneath the fierce summer sun.

"Eldest Young Master."

The smile on Yeon So-hyeon's mouth deepened, and the sharp points of his canines showed.