A Heavy Name
If you seek information, go to the Beggar Alliance.
This was a well-known adage throughout the Central Plains.
Beggars were everywhere, and because they were everywhere, they heard everything.
Most of those beggars belonged to the Beggar Alliance, and the information they gathered accumulated in their archives piece by piece.
Thus, the saying that you could find out anything by asking the Beggar Alliance was hardly an exaggeration.
The only problem was that you didn't just get the information; you had to buy it.
For a bunch of people who lived off daily begging, the price they charged for information was outrageously high.
Unless it was something one absolutely needed to know, people rarely used their services.
If not the Beggar Alliance, then where was the second most active hub of information?
Ask anyone, and ten out of ten would give the exact same answer.
The tavern.
"Brother Zhang, have you heard the news?"
"What news?"
"About the Young Sword Saint. The Young Sword Saint."
It is only natural for alcohol to loosen the tongue.
It is also natural for words to travel from one mouth to another.
Since a tavern was where both of these truths converged, it was only natural that a torrent of information flowed through it.
And at this very moment, the hottest topic of conversation in the tavern was...
"The Young Sword Saint? Who is that?"
None other than the Young Sword Saint.
At the merchant Zhang's question, the man who had been speaking looked utterly dumbfounded.
"Come on, Brother Zhang. No matter how out of touch you are, how can a merchant not know about the Young Sword Saint? No wonder you got swindled like a fool last time."
"...Hey, save the painful truths for later and just explain it to me properly."
"There was a huge fuss a while back about the successor of the Sword Saint."
"Ah."
Zhang nodded as he recalled. Indeed, there had been.
It had been quite some time since the former Alliance Leader, the Sword Saint, had passed away.
Yet, out of nowhere, rumors had flared up that his successor had appeared.
"What did they say? Didn't he defeat the Young Green Sword?"
"Defeating the Young Green Sword is nothing. They say he even killed the Mountain River Ghost."
The successor of the Sword Saint had supposedly been hiding his identity, living as a low-ranking member of the Martial Alliance.
While there, he discovered the Mountain River Ghost, an unorthodox master who was an enemy of the Namgung Clan.
Forced to reveal his hidden identity, he saved his companions from the clutches of that unorthodox villain.
And in a subsequent duel with the Young Green Sword, he reportedly defeated him with a single strike...
"The Young Green Sword is a genius close to the level of the Seven Great Talents. Defeating him is certainly impressive... but what does that have to do with the Young Sword Saint... Huh?"
Zhang gasped as realization suddenly struck him.
"Is the Young Sword Saint the successor of the Sword Saint?"
"...You're always so slow on the uptake, Brother Zhang. That's why your business is always—"
"Ah, stop with the useless nagging."
"Yes. The Young Sword Saint is that very person."
"...Well, I'll be."
Zhang let out a hollow laugh.
"I heard he hasn't even reached his twentieth year. To have a title already..."
It hadn't even been a year since he made his debut.
And he was a youth who hadn't even reached adulthood.
Yet.
"The Young Sword Saint..."
Such a grand title had been bestowed upon such a young man.
No matter if he was the successor of the Sword Saint, wasn't that name far too heavy?
As Zhang was lost in thought, the other man spoke up.
"It's not too early. In fact, his name should have risen even higher by now."
"Hmm?"
"Do you know what the Young Sword Saint did recently?"
"...How would I know?"
He had only just heard the title, so how could he possibly know his deeds?
"Have you really not heard about what happened in Sichuan?"
"Sichuan...? Did something happen to the Tang Clan again? Why? Did another top-grade weapon come out of the Iron River?"
Whenever a legendary weapon was forged in the Iron River, the world would buzz with excitement. Zhang wondered if it was something similar this time.
"No, no. It's nothing like that. The Tang Clan was attacked."
"What?"
What kind of madman would dare attack one of the Five Great Clans?
Zhang gasped in shock.
"They say even the Poison King was in grave danger because of it."
"...Heavens. The great Poison King himself?"
Not only was the Tang Clan attacked, but the Poison King was put in danger?
It was truly unbelievable.
If one of the Five Kings of the Realm was endangered, just how massive was the attack?
As he swallowed his disbelief at the absurd tale, the man continued.
"But do you know who stopped it?"
The man leaned in, his face alight with excitement.
"It was the Young Sword Saint."
"What?"
"They say the Young Sword Saint defeated all the attackers and rescued the Poison King."
"Ha! What kind of nonsense is that?"
Zhang frowned, utterly skeptical. Seeing this, the man clicked his tongue.
"I'm telling you, it's the truth. Because of that, the Tang Clan treats the Young Sword Saint as their greatest benefactor and even gifted him several legendary swords."
"That's ridiculous..."
"They even say the Poison Dragon, the Tang Clan's own son and one of the Seven Great Talents, is traveling with him out of sheer respect! He serves him so devotedly that anyone would mistake him for a servant—"
Crash!
A loud noise shattered the air behind them, cutting the man off.
"What was that?"
Every eye in the tavern turned toward the source of the sound.
It seemed someone had smashed a cup on their table.
It hadn't been dropped. Judging by the shattered pieces and the wetness on the person's hand, they had crushed it in their bare grip.
As the patrons stared at the trembling youth, whispers began to break out.
"Gasp...!"
"That... that's..."
Several people trembled in shock as they recognized the youth. Among them was the man who had been gossiping just moments ago.
"...Brother Baek? What's wrong?"
Zhang asked, completely bewildered by his companion's reaction.
"...The Poison..."
Baek stammered, pointing a shaking finger.
"The Poison... the Poison Dragon."
"Huh?"
Zhang turned his gaze to the youth.
The young man wore green silk robes embroidered with white patterns, and his facial features were incredibly sharp and fierce.
And the emblem emblazoned across his chest...
Upon seeing it, Zhang froze as well.
"...Oh."
It was an emblem no one in the Central Plains could fail to recognize.
It was the symbol of the Tang Clan, the very family they had been discussing.
"It's the Poison Dragon."
"The Poison Dragon...?"
"One of the Seven Great Talents is here...?"
The Seven Great Talents. The title given to the seven peerless geniuses of the generation.
Monsters who might one day inherit the peace established by the current Sword Saint.
And one of them, the master of poison from the Tang Clan, had just appeared.
The Poison Dragon's presence plunged the tavern into a heavy, suffocating silence.
However, there was a catch.
"If the Poison Dragon is here..."
"Could it be?"
The tension wasn't just because of the Poison Dragon. It was because of the person who was rumored to be right beside him.
The rumors had made it clear.
The youth who had saved the Tang Clan and was treated as their benefactor.
The Poison Dragon, out of sheer respect, had followed him all the way from Sichuan, serving him like a loyal attendant.
If the Poison Dragon was here, then...
"Is the Young Sword Saint here too?"
"Who is it...? Which one is the Young Sword Saint?"
"Has he returned to Henan?"
The most famous rising star in the Central Plains.
It meant Bang Seong-yeon, the Young Sword Saint, might be sitting right there.
Naturally, every gaze shifted to the table where the Poison Dragon sat.
At that moment.
"Excuse me!"
Someone sitting at the table hastily raised their hand.
"Check, please! Hurry!"
It was an incredibly handsome youth, looking thoroughly panicked.
It was a bright, sunny day in a prefecture of Henan.
I walked down the street, my face twisted in a look of profound annoyance.
"Damn it."
I spat the curse and glared to my side.
Feeling my gaze, the fierce-looking punk, Dang Cheon-il, flinched and quickly looked away.
"You couldn't even tolerate that little bit of gossip and had to break a cup? We weren't even done eating!"
"...I am sorry..."
"This is exactly why I told you to wear something else."
"..."
Dang Cheon-il hung his head, his face contorted with frustration.
"Look at this guy. Fix your face."
"..."
"I had to leave my meal unfinished because of you. Keep looking at me like that and I'll gouge your eyes out..."
Sigh.
I cut myself off and let out a long sigh.
Goddammit...
I couldn't help but sigh. Dang Cheon-il was one thing, but the overall situation was making it worse.
How did things turn out like this?
Everything had spun out of control. The moment we arrived in Henan, the sheer volume of changes left my head spinning.
"Pfft."
A soft chuckle drifted from beside me. I turned my head to see Moyong Yeong-sun, her face veiled, giggling quietly.
"...Is this funny to you?"
"Yes. Isn't it funny to you, Young Master?"
Walking with her characteristically graceful steps, Moyong Yeong-sun replied.
"The entire world is talking about you. Doesn't it make you feel good?"
"Do I look like I'm in a good mood right now?"
"Well, not really."
Saying so, Moyong Yeong-sun poked the space between my eyebrows with her finger.
"Stop furrowing that handsome brow. It's not going to change anything anyway."
"..."
I brushed her hand away with the back of my own.
"...Tsk."
I clicked my tongue. She was half right.
Fretting over it wouldn't change a thing.
I thought the whole 'Young Sword Saint' thing would just be a local rumor confined to Sichuan.
I never expected it to spread like this.
The moment we set foot in Henan, I realized how wrong I was.
Just as Moyong Yeong-sun said, the entire world was talking about me.
Even in the tavern we had entered just to fill our stomachs, it was the same.
I was so startled when my name was brought up.
I was just quietly eating my noodles, and even there, they were gossiping about me.
However.
What? I saved the Poison King and became the Tang Clan's benefactor?
The rumor itself had mutated into something bizarre.
Saved him, my foot...
When did I ever save the Poison King and the Tang Clan?
Well, I did do something similar, but the story had been blown way out of proportion.
This is why you can't trust rumors...
It was true in my past life, and it seemed to hold true in this life as well.
"This is all your fault."
"...?"
I snapped at Dang Cheon-il. He looked at me with a bewildered expression.
"Why is it my fault...?"
"Because you're tagging along, everyone recognizes us! You should have either covered your clothes or masked your face!"
"..."
The Poison Dragon's fierce looks were famous, and we had run into people who recognized him several times along the way.
On top of that, he was wearing the Tang Clan's martial robes, so how could they not know?
It was common knowledge that only direct bloodline members could wear robes bearing that emblem.
This is driving me crazy.
How on earth did this spread so fast?
As I furrowed my brow and tried to piece it together, a voice spoke.
"Stop agonizing over it and just enjoy it. It was bound to happen sooner or later anyway."
"You already expected this the moment the news of you being my successor got out."
Yes, I knew that.
I was the successor of the Sword Saint.
From the moment I showed my face in the Martial Alliance under that title, I knew my name would eventually ring across the Central Plains. But...
That's true, but that's not the real issue here.
The problem lay elsewhere.
It's too strange.
The way the rumors had spread was highly suspicious. That was what bothered me.
Why now, after all that silence?
If the news of me being the Sword Saint's successor had spread naturally back then, it would have been fine.
But.
It was so quiet back then.
At the time, it felt as if someone was actively suppressing the rumors.
But this time, it's the opposite.
It was spreading like wildfire, as if someone was intentionally broadcasting it.
Both instances felt artificial.
Which meant I had to suspect foul play.
Who is pulling the strings?
Someone had moved to block my rumors before, and now someone was spreading them.
If there was a difference...
The one who blocked them and the one who spread them are likely different people.
If my guess was correct, they were two different entities with entirely different motives.
Tsk.
I felt a lingering discomfort, as if I had been dragged into some bizarre scheme.
The current rumors went like this:
- The Young Sword Saint killed an unorthodox master to save the Tang Clan.
- Not only did the Young Sword Saint become the Tang Clan's benefactor, but the Poison Dragon follows him out of sheer respect.
- The reason the Poison Dragon follows him is that the Young Sword Saint overwhelmingly defeated him in a duel.
- The Young Sword Saint is a heaven-sent genius who looks down even on the Seven Great Talents.
And so on.
The stories were bloated with exaggeration, containing barely thirty percent truth.
...This is professional.
For a lie to hold weight, it must be laced with truth.
Mixing truth and falsehood to inflate a story and spreading it as a rumor...
This carried the distinct scent of an expert's handiwork.
Tsk.
Who could it be?
I pondered. It wasn't that I had no clues.
It's just that there are too many suspects.
The list of potential culprits was simply too long.
Even if I narrowed it down, pointing a finger at a specific person was difficult.
"Tsk."
I clicked my tongue and shifted my train of thought.
This sudden fame.
Even if it didn't feel particularly pleasant...
At least... it's not entirely bad.
It wasn't without its benefits.
It's useful for now.
Even if it was built on exaggeration, it was still fame. It would undoubtedly help me get what I needed.
Look on the bright side.
I have more options now.
I tried to convince myself.
I scanned our surroundings. I could feel gazes lingering on us. It was partly because of Dang Cheon-il, but also because of the clothes we wore.
Cheon Ui-jin wore the martial robes of Cheongwol Gate, while Do-hyeong and I wore the robes of the Sowol Squad.
Naturally, we drew a lot of attention.
It was even more pronounced since this prefecture was under the jurisdiction of Cheongwol Gate.
Well, we've finally arrived.
Our long journey had come to an end. We were back in Henan, back at Cheongwol Gate.
Whew.
I took a breath and looked into the distance.
Perched high upon the hill stood a grand, towering estate.
Cheongwol Gate.
I had returned to the place where I had much to do.
I could feel how much had changed since I left.
Whether it was my cultivation realm...
Or my standing.
If so, perhaps the sect would treat me differently now.
With that thought in mind, I took a step forward.
...And I would witness that change much sooner than I anticipated.
"...You want me to go where?"
At my dumbfounded question, Wolseongeom repeated himself.
"Represent Cheongwol Gate in the Yongbong Association."
"...What kind of crazy talk is that?"
The moment I returned, disaster struck.