Unexpected (1)
A good while had passed, but there was no sign of the chaos settling down.
I quietly let out a sigh.
Well, if it had been that easy to calm, that catastrophe from my previous life wouldn't have happened.
One of the reasons the damage was worse than expected back then was precisely this.
The leaders had gotten injured in a pride-fueled brawl among those gathered for the meeting.
If they hadn't wasted time squabbling there, we could have saved a few—no, dozens more lives.
As I quietly watched them fight like mad dogs, someone called out to me.
"Seonhyeopmirang Daehyeop! Why are you just standing there watching? Hurry and help us take down those scoundrels!"
I shrugged at his words.
"What's in it for me?"
"What?"
"Wouldn't it be more profitable for me to wait until they're all exhausted and can't move, then swoop in and behead them?"
At that, everyone's movements froze for a moment. They glanced at each other, then slowly backed away.
"Eh? Why stop already? You need to keep fighting. Isn't a fight supposed to go until the bitter end?"
They all cleared their throats awkwardly at my words.
"We've been too hot-headed."
"What's the point of wasting energy here?"
"Ahem, let's continue the meeting."
And so the discussion resumed.
But they still couldn't reach a conclusion on who should enter first.
Their positions were too sharply opposed.
I glanced at Elder Gyeongsanja. His eyes were growing even more anxious.
Anyone on the verge of a crucial decision must guard against anxiety.
It leads to needless mistakes.
One reason the Murim Alliance suffered heavy casualties in my previous life might have been Elder Gyeongsanja's "mistake."
And that anxiety was surely about achievements.
The Joint Sect's leader was quite elderly, after all.
An age where ascension could come at any moment.
Factional strife among the sect's elders over the next leader had reached a fever pitch.
In my memory, Elder Gyeongsanja barely survived, but he might have been better off dying here.
Considering what came after.
In any case, we couldn't drag this out.
I needed to carry out the Emperor's orders swiftly and return. The pile of work awaiting me was immense.
Even if Seo-hyang Sojeo was handling things in my stead, I couldn't leave it all to her.
I raised my hand and asked,
"Is the space inside the sword mound narrow?"
"Not particularly. Five people could enter side by side."
At Elder Gyeongsanja's response, I proposed a compromise.
"Then let's do this: all three factions enter at once."
"At once?"
"Yes. Each takes a line, forming three columns. That way, every faction gets to be at the front, middle, and rear—no complaints, right?"
"What about spoils?"
I smirked at the Black Dao man's question.
"Leave that to luck."
"Luck?"
"Yes. Those on the left take the left-side spoils, right takes right, center takes center."
A Heavenly Demon Divine Cult member muttered at my words.
"That's why it's left to luck. So how do we decide positions?"
"There's a traditional method."
"A martial duel, as expected?"
Argh, these battle-crazed maniacs!
I barely suppressed the urge to vent.
Drawing lots was an option, but it would inevitably spark disputes over fairness.
Though annoying, a duel might be the surest way in this situation.
Then a better idea struck.
"Do you know grass tug-of-war?"
"Haven't heard that in ages. We played it as kids."
Grass tug-of-war is a children's game.
You braid long grasses together and pull until one side snaps first—that side loses.
Hearing it from these burly Black Dao thugs felt off. But even heaven-defying Black Dao fiends had innocent childhoods once.
Anyway, they all nodded, familiar with the game.
"We'll use grass tug-of-war to decide positions."
"Not a bad idea. I agree."
"Same here."
Each faction's leader would represent them.
A pride-staked showdown.
They each snapped a grass blade, braided the three together tightly, and gripped their own end.
"Begin!"
With my shout, the tug began.
Hummm!
The martial masters' grass tug-of-war was no child's play.
They protected their grass with internal energy.
But they couldn't pour in recklessly.
The grass was fragile.
Too much energy, and it would snap.
Victory demanded exquisitely precise control.
Higher realms meant finer qi manipulation, so this contest revealed cultivation levels directly.
What a brilliant, bloodless solution!
"Nngh..."
"Urgh!"
"Hah!"
The three burly men, inches apart, sweated like it was pouring rain, faces inches from each other.
The sight of them fixated on a thin grass blade was so comical, I wanted to summon a painter to capture it.
Onlookers watched tensely, holding their breath lest a sound break their focus.
How much time passed?
Snap.
The first dropout: the Black Dao rep.
Soon after,
Snap.
Another broke, crowning the winner.
Elder Gyeongsanja.
Proof that the Joint Sect's internal energy focus wasn't wasted.
"Woooah!"
"We won!"
"Yeeaaah!"
So thrilled?
Orthodox faction folk, young and old alike, cheered wildly.
The Black Dao leader, first loser, hung his head like a criminal.
"Left, right, or center?"
"Center, obviously!"
Thus: Heavenly Demon Divine Cult left, Murim Alliance center, Black Dao right.
"Entry in two days!"
"Break the agreement and enter first, and we won't let it slide!"
"You stay honest too!"
I chuckled inwardly at the sight.
What was the point of this squabble?
They couldn't enter anyway.
After the meeting, heading back to our camp,
I pondered deeply, eyes forward.
I hadn't expected the Gold Guard attached to the Murim Alliance side.
I figured they'd operate independently.
Thanks to Jin Yeong Daehyeop, I'd learned palace arts; tangled in incidents, I'd worked with Gold Guards.
Even if they hid it, I could infer their identity.
The Emperor likely ordered surveillance considering my skills.
To ensure the dispatched Gold Guards didn't cozy up to the Alliance.
He didn't hate the Murim Alliance.
They just overstepped into forbidden territory, grating his nerves.
Maybe using this chance to root out Alliance spies in the palace?
Plenty possible.
Then, my eyes met a daehyeop's.
Evening time.
Dinner was noodles again, but I ate heartily.
The region's noodle culture offered variety—fascinating.
Far off, Haegun Gongja ate quietly.
After my harsh scolding, he'd ditched his picky habits, slurping obediently.
Wearing fifty geun of iron weights all over must make him ravenous.
Part of my intent: eat what's given and shut up.
Glad he was.
Issue: trembling arms from the weight, chopsticks and bowl shaking.
His problem.
Then two men approached.
Gold Guards, by the look.
They'd know me.
Here to probe why I was here.
"Mind if we join?"
"Of course not."
They sat on a nearby rock at my nod.
"Finally introducing ourselves. Nice to meet you. Kwon Jik of the Gwiju Kwon Clan."
"Kwon of the same."
Using clan status to hide Gold Guard identity.
"Gwiju Kwon Clan—the spear masters?"
"Oh! You know of us."
"I lead Yeongseon Minka now, but my roots are as Eunhae Merchant Group's young master. Gwiju Castle yields rare herbs, so we visit often. No merchant passing through doesn't know the Kwon Clan."
I continued,
"Stalwart protectors against Gwiju's bandits."
"Haha! Exactly."
"As you say."
Of course, they took protection fees like any martial clan.
No need to sour the mood mentioning it.
"But aren't you busy with merchant affairs? Summer's peak for Eunhae with the sailboat season."
I sighed at that.
"Very busy, as you say. But I couldn't ignore my maternal family's plight."
"Ah, Yeongseon Minka's your maternal side?"
"Yes."
I nodded.
"Visited with Mother's letter when the Alliance requested aid. Second uncle's in secluded training, no one else to lead reinforcements."
"So you stepped up."
"Yes. I'm merchant-born, but with the Seonhyeopmirang title, they figured I'd not be dismissed here."
"Tough break."
"Anyway, plan to wrap this quick and head back."
"Hm, explains your move at the meeting."
They accepted my explanation readily.
"If I overstepped, my apologies."
"Not at all. Well done."
I cleared my empty bowl, offered a fist salute.
"Please help me finish this fast and return to the Group."
"No worries."
Glancing, their suspicion of me seemed gone.
Good call bringing maternal warriors.
"You entering the sword mound in two days too?"
"Obviously."
So be it.
Sorry, but you won't enter Monk Hyeolgon's Sword Mound.
That night.
I quietly rose from bed.
Seo-u Warrior and Jin Yu Warrior, pre-notified, rose silently too.
Smart choosing beds near the entrance.
For sneaky exits.
Gwangpungdan warriors misunderstood: protecting them.
Didn't bother correcting.
Seemed it'd breed more misunderstandings.
No night watch in the Alliance camp tents.
Just casual patrols by shifts.
We could slip out quietly.
Let's go.
They nodded faintly at my transmission.
Our movements were swift.
We arrived at Monk Hyeolgon's Sword Mound.
Tonight, we'd enter—and demolish it.
Nothing inside but brutal traps.
Futile effort.
I knew how gruesomely entrants died; letting that happen was wrong.
Someone might say: shove the Black Dao and Demonic Cult in first.
Possible.
But I lacked confidence bearing those lives' weight.
Even Black Dao and Demonic Cult weren't all irredeemable fiends.
In past and present lives, as a "villain," I'd seen countless non-villains among them.
Conversely, many "righteous" were false.
This was best now.
My actions might alter the future—but so what?
From wriggling to change my fate, destiny's waves had begun.
This was one ripple.
I'd caused and resolved countless already.
Who knows?
This might aid my revenge.
Problems arise? I'd handle them, as always.
Twelve guarded the front of Monk Hyeolgon's Sword Mound.
But our entrance wasn't there.
A fluke discovery from past life:
Multiple entrances.
We slipped into the cramped secondary one.
But...
- Kkwi!
Gold Spirit's reaction was off.