What a Mess (1)
We weren't the only ones heading to Yeonji Mountain.
Since we also had to transport the supplies requested by the Murim Alliance, we enlisted the help of an escort agency.
"It's an honor to travel alongside the renowned Seonhyeopmirang."
The escort leader clasped his hands in a formal salute toward me.
"You're making me blush. It's a title far beyond my worth. It's a short trip, but I look forward to working with you."
"We'll give it our all."
And so, with a send-off from my maternal family, we set off for Yeonji Mountain.
The estimated travel time was about three days.
We could have made it in two on horseback, but pulling wagons added an extra day.
Of course, if I rode Jukangma at full gallop, it wouldn't even take a day—but I had to match the pace of the others.
Impressively, the Jukangma didn't try to speed ahead on their own.
Though it was probably less because of me and more because they were terrified of Geumryeong...
Three days later, we finally arrived at Yeonji Mountain.
Now, where exactly do we go?
As I pondered for a moment, a group approached us.
"Heh heh heh, what's all this?"
"Perfect timing—we were running low on food!"
Even without the repulsive aura radiating from them, their intentions were obvious.
Of all places, running into black道 thugs here.
My principle was to avoid bloodshed whenever possible.
Once blood was spilled, it dragged me into cycles of恩怨 I didn't want, whether I liked it or not.
Becoming someone's benefactor was always welcome, but becoming their enemy was something to dodge at all costs.
This applied to everyone, but it was especially critical in the merchant world.
Business didn't always succeed, and if someone came seeking revenge during a rough patch, it could topple the entire company.
That's why we built up as many favors as possible in advance.
Some might call it too calculating, but merchants had no choice but to be this pragmatic.
Bandits trying to rob us, though? They were the exception.
Shing.
I drew my sword in warning.
"Turn back now, and you might keep your lives."
"What're you babbling about, you pretty-boy gigolo?"
"What was that? I didn't quite catch it."
I sighed at their mocking jeers.
*Why do so many people refuse to listen when you try to talk nicely?*
Then—
"Gasp! S-Seo...!"
"What?"
One of them shouted as if choking on his breath.
"S-Seo-Seonhyeopmirang!"
With that, he smacked the backs of the heads of the others in front of him.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
And he screeched like a banshee.
"Are you insane? Do you have a death wish? That ridiculously handsome face—it's Seonhyeopmirang!"
At his words, the color drained from their faces.
Watching their ruddy cheeks turn ghostly pale in real time was oddly fascinating.
"F-Forgive our rudeness!"
And just like that, they bolted. I sheathed my sword and turned to my companions.
"Lucky we didn't have to waste any energy on them."
The Gwangpungdan warriors' eyes sparkled even brighter as they watched the bandits flee at the mere sight of me, clearly impressed.
"By the way, where's the Murim Alliance's camp?"
As I muttered to myself, Jin Yu Warrior spoke up.
"I'll scout it out."
There was a chance someone from the Murim Alliance might recognize him, so Jin Yu Warrior was wearing a mask covering half his face.
I nodded.
"Thanks."
He vanished on the spot and reappeared shortly after.
"Over there."
I headed that way, inwardly cursing the Murim Alliance.
*If you're requesting support, at least give specific directions or send a guide. The basics—they can't even get the basics right. Tch!*
Soon, we reached the encampment where the Murim Alliance banners fluttered proudly.
"Halt!"
The guards ahead shouted at us.
"Where are you from?"
I stepped forward.
"Support from Yeongseon Village."
"Yeongseon Village... Ah! That's the one!"
One warrior tilted his head at the sight of me, then stepped forward with sudden realization.
"Are you perhaps the great hero Seonhyeopmirang?"
"It's embarrassing, but yes, that's what they call me."
"Oho! To think a hero of the murim world has come here!"
"What an honor!"
Their attitudes flipped in an instant.
That was why I made full use of the Seonhyeopmirang title, despite the embarrassment—it carried real weight in the murim world.
"This way, please. I'll guide you personally."
We passed through the wooden stockade into the Murim Alliance camp.
There, I met the elder in charge of this operation.
He was a tall, dignified middle-aged man.
But his eyes held a strange desperation.
"It's an honor to meet you. I'm Eun Seo-ho."
"Glad to meet you. I'm Gyeong Sanja, elder of the Kunlun Sect. Have a seat here."
"Thank you."
I sat, and tea was promptly served before us.
"I heard you're representing Yeongseon Village. Do you have ties there?"
"Yes. It's my maternal family."
"Maternal family... Ah, yes! I recall hearing that the eldest daughter of Yeongseon Village was a martial prodigy, called the Plum Flow Sword."
"That's my mother."
"I knew it!"
But that was ancient history now. Mother had all but set aside her sword to run the company, so her name had faded into obscurity.
The fact that this Kunlun elder was from the same Gansu Province was the only reason he remembered.
I wondered what expression he'd make if he learned Mother had taken up her sword again after receiving Yeongeom from me.
But I had no intention of revealing it.
It was classified—for future preparations.
"Sadly, she hasn't touched a sword in ages. She got too busy as the lady of the merchant house."
"What a pity."
"I think so too."
The elder changed the subject.
"Still, I'm overjoyed that you've come."
"Is the situation that dire?"
He stroked his chin beard at my question.
"Can't say it's good. We just received a pigeon message from Shaolin Temple—they can't send any disciples after all."
"Isn't Hyeolgon Seongseung a great victor of Shaolin? Why refuse to send disciples?"
He clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"They claim since he's an expelled monk, he has no ties to Shaolin. Such stubborn fools."
I smiled inwardly.
Jeongmyeong the monk had safely returned to Shaolin and apparently convinced the abbot and elders.
*Good for him.*
But... if that was true, then the support request from Yeongseon Village for this event wasn't because I'd sent the Shaolin monks back.
So what was it for?
"Anyway, your arrival is a godsend. That said, I'd like you to attend tomorrow's meeting."
"Meeting?"
"To prevent pointless casualties from clashes between factions, we're holding a conference about entering Hyeolgon Seongseung's sword mound. It's crucial—it'll decide who takes the lead."
"Can I really attend something that important?"
I voiced concern, but not from the heart.
I had to attend that meeting.
It was the only way to create an exit for me and the Yeongseon folks without casualties.
"Of course! Absolutely!"
Thankfully, he urged me enthusiastically.
Makes sense—having one more prestigious figure bolstered their arguments.
"If you insist, I'll do what I can."
"Much appreciated."
With that, I excused myself and approached my waiting group, speaking to our guide.
"We've brought the food supplies requested by the Murim Alliance."
"Thank you."
The escort agency's job ended there.
No point sticking around longer.
I paid the leader the balance and saw them off.
"Safe travels back."
"Thank you for using our agency. We wish you martial fortune, great hero."
And with that, the escorts departed Yeonji Mountain.
"Now, please show us to our barracks."
"Got it. Follow m—"
The warrior suddenly froze, realizing something.
"Ah, we weren't informed you'd arrive today... Please wait a moment."
"Pardon?"
"Just a short wait."
He dashed off in a panic, and it took about an hour before we were shown to our barracks.
Ours was spacious and comfortable compared to the ones we'd passed on the way.
Then I understood his reaction.
Yeongseon Village's usual spot was probably one of those rundown tents.
But since I was leading the group, they'd upgraded the treatment.
Hastily cleared out a prime spot and pitched a new one, no doubt.
Nearly thirty of us, but the large barrack felt roomy enough.
The warrior explained everything before leaving.
We began unpacking inside.
Just placing bags on bunks, but it held meaning—claiming your spot.
Yet everyone stood with their luggage, staring at me.
"Why are you all looking at me like that?"
"Please choose your bunk first, great hero."
"Anywhere's fine..."
"Heh heh, no can do! Pick one."
*What's the big deal about bunks...?*
Still, them deferring to me meant they acknowledged me as leader—not a bad thing.
I picked the one nearest the entrance.
Palgap and the guards naturally took spots nearby.
The Gwangpungdan warriors eyed me curiously.
Usually, higher status meant claiming the back.
I smiled casually.
"This suits me fine. Everyone, pick your spots and rest up."
Evening came.
Meals were standard rations—not great, honestly.
Just a bowl of noodles each.
"I'll fetch yours too, young master."
I shook my head.
"Nah. We're in a war zone—gotta act the part."
I went to the distribution point myself, got my noodles, and sat to eat.
Then—
"I'm sick of it! So sick! Enough with the damn noodles—give us something else!"
All eyes turned to the shout. A young man was hurling his bowl and throwing a tantrum.
"There's gotta be other dishes! Why always these soggy-ass noodles?"
"Calm down, sir."
"You can't act like this here."
*Just whining about food. Tsk tsk.*
This wasn't merely a fight over Hyeolgon Seongseung's sword mound.
It was a battlefield of faction egos.
Complaining about rations here... what a child.
And with the famine still raging, plenty sold what they shouldn't just for a bowl like this. Be grateful you even get one.
Judging by his clothes, he was some rich kid—his escorts must have headaches galore.
But none of my business, so I turned away.
Or tried to.
If he hadn't called out.
"You there!"
"Me?"
"What do you think? Don't you want meat or something tasty?"
"Well, sure."
His face lit up. But hear a man out.
"That said, this is a battlefield. With supplies that could cut off anytime, lavish meals are a luxury. These noodles cook fast compared to other foods."
I addressed the crowd.
"For feeding this many, they're just right, I'd say."
His face flushed red with rage.
"Damn it! Who asked for your opinion?"
*What the hell?*
*You asked what I thought and I answered.*
"Anyway, I refuse to eat this low-class slop anymore! Enjoy it yourself!"
"Sigh..."
I smiled and asked,
"May I have your name, young master?"
"Me?"
I glanced at his guard, who answered instead.
"This is Ha Jun, second young master of the Seoryun Ha Clan."
Seoryun Ha Clan— a martial family from Shaanxi Province.
Well-off, sure, but nothing compared to our company.
Not even on par with Eunhae Merchant Group in its hundred-greats days.
"And you are?"
He didn't know me, judging by the question.
Makes sense—no one would peg the guy slurping noodles with the crowd as Seonhyeopmirang.
"I'm Eun Seo-ho from Yeongseon Village."
Ha Jun snorted.
"Hmph! Figures—from some backwater dump, you're probably thankful for noodles."
The Gwangpungdan warriors bristled.
"Sit."
I furrowed my brow, reining them in.
*Keep pissing me off, why don't you.*
Yeongseon Village wasn't huge, but it was historic.
Not a place to be insulted like that.
Even from a spoiled brat—with everyone watching.
Let it slide, and they'd all mock Yeongseon.
*How should I crush him?*