Drawing the Sword — The First Three-Tenths of the Eldest Young Master's Faction Revealed
Forty paces away from them.
"This is a disaster…!"
One of the Yeon bloodline elders came scrambling into view, late and frantic. His breath was ragged, his face flushed and bloodshot; he had clearly run hard to get there. Yet all he earned for his urgency was a weary murmur.
"A disaster it is, yes…"
"…Of all moments for the Eldest Young Master's faction to appear."
The Yeon bloodline elders could not even hide their dismay.
"Bu-jeonjangjang has been taken into custody. The Head of Hobop Court and Gamchal Buju will both wash their hands of us…"
They gulped down cold water, but it sat in their chests like something undigested, only tightening the knot of dread.
"And with the Eldest Young Master already having built a force like that inside the Elder Council itself, there's nothing left for us to try at the Council level." Even loosening a collar did nothing to ease the noose closing around their throats. "Truly, a song of Chu on every side…"
So it was that, in the shock of the Eldest Young Master's faction making its entrance, the other Yeon bloodline elders had no attention to spare for the latecomer.
"I merely gave you a little courage," came a calm voice from across the hall. "Nothing more."
"Not so, Eldest Young Master…!"
The open, almost ostentatious warmth among the Eldest Young Master's faction, displayed as if for the whole chamber to see, set the Yeon bloodline elders grinding their teeth.
"Disgusting little display…"
"They barely deserve the title of elder, putting on that performance."
"Anyone watching would think they'd met the Founding Family Head himself."
"Spare us the praise already. Have they no shame?"
One of them clicked his tongue loudly enough to be heard—but across the way, the elders of the Eldest Young Master's faction did not so much as pretend to listen.
"And once those invalid votes reached three-tenths…!"
"The one-tenth His Lordship had already secured through 'political bargaining' saw the sacred mountain open before them…!"
"And in the re-vote that followed, they added yet another tenth in invalid ballots…!"
"…Damn it."
Still—grumbling and picking at flaws was a luxury reserved for those who still had a little room left to breathe.
Bloodshot eyes stared wide. Someone chewed their nails until they bled without noticing. Someone else's legs shook hard enough to rattle the desk.
One of the Yeon bloodline elders glanced their way and clicked his tongue. Those men, even among the Yeon bloodline elders, were the ones most openly entangled with Bu-jeonjangjang. Depending on how this affair ended, they would take the hit head-on, and at once. Understanding that, one could not entirely fail to understand their behavior either.
"It is regrettable that matters have come to this, but…"
As one bloodshot pair of eyes after another turned toward him, he averted his gaze and finished what he had to say.
"We helped as far as our strength would reach. So I ask that you take care, in the investigations to come, that the damage does not spread to us as well."
Us and you. The moment things went wrong, the line was drawn without the slightest pretense.
"……!"
The Yeon bloodline elders who had just been stabbed in the back by their own allies stared at him, eyes bulging, bodies trembling. Others among the Yeon bloodline, following the first man's lead, looked away even as they spoke the necessary words.
"I understand how you feel, but…"
"Understanding is one thing. What needs saying still needs saying…"
"We must prevent this from bringing the entire Yeon bloodline to ruin, must we not?"
"This is the hour of every man for himself."
"The bloodline outside the Elder Council will have reached the same conclusion."
So they spoke—eyes averted, words delivered.
"…You lot!"
The elder who had just been abandoned shot to his feet.
"Why rage at us?" One of those who had been avoiding his gaze turned on him with a sharp look. "If you were in our place, wouldn't you do exactly as we are doing now?"
…
Fury surged up beyond control—and yet the words struck so cleanly to the heart that his mouth sealed shut. Or perhaps it was because his mouth had sealed shut that the fury only climbed higher.
"Still—Bu-jeonjangjang. Even that man, if he thinks of his family, will not open his mouth so easily."
"Don't decide it's over yet."
"We will take what measures we can, as far as they are needed."
Poison first, then the antidote? But in a situation like this, even a rotten rope was something to seize.
"…I would ask that of y—"
He was about to swallow the humiliation and bow his head when another voice cut across them.
"It is already too late."
The Yeon bloodline elders turned toward the speaker.
"Did I not say there was a disaster?" The man who had arrived late in such a fluster sank bonelessly into a chair. "The captured Bu-jeonjangjang had a secret ledger. Hobop Court has already obtained it, I am told."
The last rotten rope snapped.
From far across the great hall came the voice of Elder Hwangmok, charged with conducting the session:
Third vote on the motion of no confidence against the Head of the Sword House Bank.
In favor of no confidence: twenty.
Invalid: ten.
Opposed: eighty.
Therefore, the motion of no confidence against the Banker is finally and formally REJECTED.
Over that announcement, the voice of the Yeon bloodline elder who had arrived late with the news layered itself.
"I hear the Eldest Young Master's hand was in that as well. Unfortunate, but…"
"…You men are finished."
In that instant, the last thread of reason snapped.
Thirty paces.
It was not so rare a thing for a man who had suffered a bitter defeat in the Elder Council to let out a monstrous cry. And precisely because of that, the moment anyone grasped that something as absurd as open force was about to erupt—
"You bastrrrrrd—!"
—one of the Yeon bloodline elders had already closed the distance to the Eldest Young Master to thirty paces.
"…!"
Who reacted first could not be said with certainty.
"Eldest Young Master…!"
Sword-Encompassing Mountain-Breaker—Elder Yeom, tempered again and again upon the battlefield—reflexively drew up his inner power and hurled himself into the path of the charging Yeon bloodline elder, cutting him off from Yeon So-hyeon.
"You madman…!"
And one more.
The Small Giant. That name was no empty title. From the central dais of the great hall, Jangrowonju raised both hands in a storm of fury, a roar of rage bursting from him as he wrenched his inner power upward in a single continuous surge.
Twenty paces…
In that brief span, even among the elders without inner power, those whose eyes had already been turned toward the center of the hall began to grasp what was happening.
"Kh…!"
The backlash of inner power forced up so violently made every vessel in Elder Yeom's body stand out like writhing worms; the fine veins in both eyes ruptured under the pressure. Suppressing a pain as if his whole frame were on fire, his hand flew by reflex to his back—but this was the Elder Council Hall. His beloved greatsword was not there. In its place he instantly clenched a fist like an iron cauldron lid.
"Hup—!"
"Dieeeee—!"
Ten paces remaining.
From the central dais of the great hall, a storm of qi-waves crashed outward. Elder Hwangmok and those standing near the dais were thrown sprawling by the blast—and in that same instant, a flash.
Jangrowonju, both palms already loaded with a terrifying tide of force, had launched himself into the air.
If the speed of drawing inner power falls short—make up the difference by securing distance…!
Rather than charging straight at the oncoming Yeon bloodline elder, Jangrowonju flung himself toward Yeon So-hyeon, planting himself in front of him and buying, with veteran skill, the time he needed to fully raise his power.
Ultimate Form — Phoenix Whirlstrike
"Gah—!"
Both of his sleeves burst and streamed in tatters; blue lightning snaked in long, unbroken tails through his eyes.
And Elder Yeom, eyes wide as a tiger's, also succeeded—in barely half a breath—in focusing the whole of his body's qi into a single fist.
Mountain-Shattering Force
"…Hahk!"
"…Kh!"
From the point of his stance, the stone flooring split and spiderwebbed in every direction; nearby elders dropped to their knees under a pressure like Mount Tai itself.
"Graaaaaah—!"
Mutual destruction. The Yeon bloodline elder, drawing even his foundational true qi, was launching what amounted to a suicide assault—and the distance between him and the Eldest Young Master was now a mere five paces.
I will not—I must not be late—!
—Not now!
The focus of two martial masters who had drawn their inner power to the absolute limit reached a wall of time in which everything seemed to flow in slow motion—and in that very instant…
Someone drifted past the two of them as lightly as if strolling.
The shape of it was not that of salmon thrashing against a violent mountain waterfall, but of a great roc soaring the blue vault, utterly indifferent to such struggles below.
Eldest Young—
—Master?!
Within that slowed wall of time, the figure of the Eldest Young Master Yeon So-hyeon alone moved as if no constraint existed at all—light, free, overtaking them both.
And then, in the moment Jangrowonju's and Elder Yeom's eyes flew wide with shock, Yeon So-hyeon's toes touched the ground as gently as a leaf.
Tap.
Something like that sound seemed to be heard.
And centered on that lightly set foot, without a single crash of thunder, without so much as a scatter of dust, the marble floor of the great hall sank in a swirling collapse.
That quaking step—?!
Jangrowonju and Elder Yeom recognized that endlessly distinctive stomp at once.
The Supreme Family Head's—?!
And the eyes of the two masters, as if chasing the inner power rising through Yeon So-hyeon's body from that stomp, flicked by reflex to its destination—his hand.
That is—?!
A fist closed as if gripping a sword, with only the index and middle fingers extended straight as a blade.
As if a sealed treasured blade had been drawn at last—its keen edge seemed to slice even the air itself.
Originally, the Sword Finger, even as a part of swordsmanship, was never more than an auxiliary means to the true sword. But in this moment, Yeon So-hyeon's Sword Finger was like a treasured blade pulled free of its seal; its keen edge seemed to sheer the very air until it stung.
For that one instant, every soul in the hall—as if ensorcelled—looked only at the Eldest Young Master's Sword Finger.
But…
Not a single person in the great hall. Not a single warrior. Not even the one with the sharpest eyes among them—none managed to catch the instant when Yeon So-hyeon's Sword Finger moved.
"Ah…!"
A cry of instinctive, inexpressible regret broke from someone's lips—and when all who had been staring, spellbound, at Yeon So-hyeon came back to themselves—
Puhwak—!
The body of the charging Yeon bloodline elder was cleanly bisected left from right in midair. Carried by its own momentum, the two halves scraped past either side of Yeon So-hyeon and crumpled, formless and ruined, against the floor.
Only afterward did the blood of the Yeon bloodline elder hang in the air and fall like a fine crimson mist. And only afterward, from the mouths of those who recognized the martial art, the true name of that single sword slipped out like a groan.
The ultimate sword technique of the former Yeon family head—capable of splitting the sky and leaving a permanent scar in the atmosphere.
"…That is the Supreme Family Head's signature technique."
"Severing Life…!"
Whether one had been born with a gift for inner power or had never been a martial artist at all—who among those who had risen to elder rank in the Luoyang Sword House would dare claim not to know that single sword?
"Huu…"
As Yeon So-hyeon drew a long breath to settle himself amid the shock of a thousand crossing feelings—
Jjeok. Jjeojeok.
—only then did the fractures racing out from the mark of his quaking step scrape across the floor, climb the far wall, and reach all the way to the soaring ceiling of the great hall.
Hudeudeuk.
Even as dust and grit sifted down from the cracked ceiling onto their heads and shoulders, in that moment not a single person dared open their mouth.