A Heavy Legacy
There was one question that had constantly plagued me ever since I learned Cheon Ui-jin's true identity.
Why on earth did he come here? For what possible reason? I still hadn't been able to understand it.
It was only natural. Cheongwol Gate was a sect based in Henan that wielded immense influence.
The monster who had ended the bloodbath, Yoo Chun-gil, was from that very sect, and many of the past leaders of the Martial Alliance had hailed from Cheongwol Gate.
That was how formidable their standing was.
And Cheon Ui-jin was a member of such a prestigious sect.
In fact, he was the son of the current sect leader.
No matter how high-ranking someone from the Five Great Clans or the Nine Great Sects might be, Cheon Ui-jin was someone they could not easily look down upon.
Why in the world did he come all the way to Anhui?
It made no sense. Why did he choose Anhui of all places? And to top it off, he had hidden his identity to join a mere branch office of the Martial Alliance.
Unless he had a specific goal, this was completely illogical.
So this was the reason.
Only now did the pieces fall into place.
The rusty, worn-out, and broken greatsword sitting right in front of me.
If this really was the beloved sword of the Sword Saint, as the old man claimed, then it was more than enough justification.
Furthermore...
Judging by his reaction, it seems most people don't even know he has this.
The Namgung Clan likely had no idea either. If they did, Namgung Seong wouldn't have treated Cheon Ui-jin the way he did.
Of course, this is purely speculation.
There was also a high probability that Namgung Seong's attitude wouldn't have changed even if he had known.
After all...
It seems Namgung Seong already has someone backing him.
He had secured a backer long ago—one powerful enough that even Cheon Ui-jin didn't register as a threat to him.
Under those circumstances, Cheon Ui-jin came to Anhui.
And if his goal was this greatsword... the most obvious reason would be...
The need for symbolism.
He must have needed the sheer symbolic weight this sword carried.
It's the personal sword of the Sword Saint, of all things. That says it all.
Then, why would he need such symbolism?
Once my thoughts reached this point, I didn't need to ponder for long.
...To fight for succession, obviously.
This also tied back to Namgung Seong's backer. Looking at the situation, it seemed Cheongwol Gate was currently embroiled in a fierce power struggle.
Namgung Seong's behavior alone hinted at it, and otherwise, there would have been no reason for Cheon Ui-jin to bring up the position of Young Sect Leader.
This gave me a rough idea of the current state of Cheongwol Gate.
It looks like things are turning into a bit of a shitshow over there...
In such a situation, securing this symbol would grant him a massive advantage.
Loath as I was to admit it, the Sword Saint held profound significance not just for Cheongwol Gate, but for the entire Central Plains.
But the problem here is...
In Cheon Ui-jin's eyes, the current me...
...looks like someone who came to Anhui specifically to find this symbol.
And now, he was trying to hand over this hard-won symbol to me.
So, what should I do?
What else?
“You are correct,” I said.
My answer was already decided.
“Just as you suspected, Young Master Cheon, I also came to Anhui to find the great Sword Saint's beloved weapon.”
I did my best to ignore the sly, snickering voice echoing in my head.
“I knew it...”
At my words, Cheon Ui-jin nodded repeatedly, looking deeply moved.
Sure enough, my guess was spot on.
“I kept wondering why you were here in Anhui instead of Henan, Young Master Bang... but it turns out you were here for the same reason as me.”
“That is... correct.”
No, it wasn't. I just came here to try and make something of my life. But how could I have known?
How could I have known my life would get tangled up in such a clusterfuck?
Just as a sigh was about to escape my lips at the sheer frustration of it all...
“In that case...”
Cheon Ui-jin stood up quietly and bowed to show his respect.
I reacted with feigned surprise.
“Young Master Cheon, what is the meaning of this?”
“It seems I have snatched away the precious item you were searching for. I am truly sorry.”
I narrowed my eyes slightly. So that was what he meant.
Does he think he swooped in and stole it from under my nose?
Since I had been grinding away in the Martial Alliance for a year while he had only just arrived, I suppose it looked that way to him.
I've thought this since last time, but this guy is surprisingly naive.
It was bizarre that he would apologize so readily.
If it were me, I wouldn't have apologized at all. I would have just pocketed it and played dumb.
...What? I'm pretty sure I didn't say that out loud.
“There is no need for that. Thanks to you, Young Master Cheon, we have found what I was unable to locate.”
“But...”
“I tell you again, you don't need to worry about it. I am truly fine.”
“...”
As I spoke with utmost sincerity, Cheon Ui-jin bit his lip, a complex expression crossing his face.
“Then, Young Master Bang...”
“Yes?”
“If it is not too much trouble, would you be willing to accept this relic?”
“...”
This time, it was my turn to fall silent.
Of course, it was a calculated silence. I had already anticipated that Cheon Ui-jin would make this offer.
“What do you mean? You were the one who found this sword, Young Master Cheon. Why give it to me...?”
I asked, playing the part of the clueless innocent.
“This is none other than the personal sword of the Sword Saint. Surely, it is only right that it be returned to his descendant.”
Cheon Ui-jin replied with a bitter smile.
I could detect a faint trace of lingering regret in his smile.
“Young Master Cheon.”
“However, please promise me one thing.”
Cheon Ui-jin added, his expression turning solemn.
“In exchange for accepting this, you must become the Young Sect Leader of Cheongwol Gate.”
“...”
My brow furrowed at his words.
“The Young Sect Leader... I was curious about this last time as well, but why are you so intent on me taking that position?”
“...”
“If you wanted to, couldn't you just take the position yourself?”
Wasn't that why he came all this way? He had even obtained the very thing he needed to do so, so he could have easily claimed it for himself.
Why does he keep insisting that I do it?
I asked because I genuinely couldn't understand.
However...
“...”
Cheon Ui-jin merely kept his expression stiff and offered no reply.
His silence carried a singular meaning.
It was a silent demand: Are you in, or are you out?
“Hmm...”
In reality, I only had one choice.
I reached out toward the sword. But just as my hand was about to grasp the hilt...
“Ah, Young Master Cheon.”
I called out to him.
“Yes...?”
“It's not exactly a trade, but... may I ask a favor of you as well?”
“What kind of favor...?”
“Oh, don't worry.”
I gripped the hilt firmly as I spoke.
“It won't be a very difficult request.”
I stepped outside carrying the wooden box. It was still the dead of dawn.
“Ugh...”
I groaned as I trudged forward. The wooden box was far heavier than I had anticipated, making it a struggle to carry.
“This... is... way heavier... than I thought...”
Cheon Ui-jin had carried it so effortlessly that I assumed it would be light, but this was beyond my wildest imagination.
Why was a rusty old sword so damn heavy?
The wooden box itself wasn't that heavy, so something was definitely off.
“This is driving me crazy...”
Sweat poured down my face. As I struggled to carry it, the old man kept clicking his tongue.
“No, I'm serious, it's really heavy...!”
“Cold iron or not, it's seriously—”
I froze mid-sentence. Did I hear that right...?
“Old man.”
“What did you say it was made of just now?”
The old man looked at me, completely bewildered.
“Cold iron? This rusty, ugly antique?”
“This rusty, ugly antique?”
Why? Because I was utterly dumbfounded.
Cold iron? And Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron at that?
Cold iron was incomparable to ordinary iron. It was incredibly rare, and the blacksmiths capable of forging weapons with it were few and far between. A sword made of cold iron was the lifelong dream of any swordsman.
And it's Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron, of all things.
A sword made from Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron, the rarest of the rare?
Should I just sell this and make a run for it?
If I sold this one thing, I'd have enough money to live in luxury for the rest of my life...
Knowing that, a sudden surge of greed flared up within me. But...
As if he had read my mind, the old man immediately rained on my parade.
“...”
I scowled deeply at his words.
He was right. I couldn't sell this sword. Not only was it made of Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron...
If I sell it, it won't take long for people to realize it's Yoo Chun-gil's relic.
If that happened, things would get incredibly messy.
Since it wasn't some common blade, trouble would brew from all directions.
And I'd get dragged right into the center of it.
As the one who sold the sword, I would inevitably face the consequences.
Now that I had accepted the sword, selling it was out of the question.
“...Dammit.”
What a waste. What a colossal waste. It was so frustrating I felt like crying.
The old man sighed at the sight of me, and I reluctantly dragged my feet forward, carrying the heavy wooden box.
As we walked in silence...
The old man spoke from behind me.
“...”
His voice was dripping with playful mischief. I ignored him and kept walking.
At that...
He materialized right in front of my face to ask.
Dammit. I hoped he would let it slide, but it seemed he wasn't going to let me off that easily.
Son of a...
Swearing inwardly, I spoke to the old man.
“...Ask what? I don't know anything.”
“I don't know how highly you think of me, old man, but...”
“...Why is this sword in Anhui?”
Son of a bitch. I couldn't help but ask. I wanted to play dumb for as long as possible...
How dare he tempt me with dark iron? That's playing dirty.
But the offer was simply too lucrative to pass up.
“Whew...”
I let out a sigh of a different nature. Setting the wooden box down for a moment, I stared at the old man.
Fine. Since it had come to this, I might as well ask everything.
“Old man.”
“That antique you call your beloved sword.”
For a piece of junk, it had a remarkably cool name.
“Right, Man-wol. Why was it buried away in Anhui?”
To be precise, in the corner of a cave that nobody would ever find. Why was it there?
The old man had clearly been waiting for me to ask this.
And...
Please let it not be what I think.
I had to pray as I anticipated his response.
...Please, please, anything but that.
I prayed desperately, over and over. Out of the six possible answers I had imagined, only one absolutely had to be avoided.
However...
Yoo Chun-gil spoke in a sly, nonchalant tone, as if he had read my anxiety perfectly.
“Oh, for fuck's sake.”
The moment the words left his mouth, a curse escaped mine. The old man burst into delighted laughter.
He clutched his stomach, laughing as if it were the funniest thing in the world.
Ignoring his hysterics, I clutched my forehead in despair.
I prayed so hard, and the heavens couldn't help me even once? Are you kidding me?
I had hoped for any answer but that one, yet with uncanny precision, that was exactly what I got.
The fact that he didn't know why his own beloved weapon was in Anhui.
I was desperately hoping it wouldn't be that.
The old man had said he didn't know exactly how he died.
Furthermore, he had revealed that his death was not from natural causes as the world believed, but murder.
And the fact that his beloved weapon was hidden away in Anhui without his knowledge meant...
...whoever was involved in his death was the one who put it here.
In short, I was absolutely fucked.