Chapter 367
There is a saying that heroes are born in troubled times.
It is a well-known saying across the land.
Just as history has shown in the past, the current era reflects the same truth. The records written down demonstrate that these words hold a semblance of reality.
In times of crisis, there are those who rise to prevent and overcome it.
Even in dire circumstances, some seek hope and are willing to burn their souls to find and nurture that hope.
They care little for their own well-being.
Despite trembling in fear of death, they do not cease to move forward.
The crowd often refers to such individuals as heroes.
The recent incident involving the Shinryonggwan was no different.
In an era that could be called peaceful, aside from the monsters, there had been few major incidents.
And yet, amidst these calm days, a catastrophic event occurred where many reviewers were injured and killed.
Fortunately, it was suppressed within a day.
But by then, there had already been many casualties.
The Murim Alliance has not assessed the exact number, but it’s estimated that the death toll would be in the tens, if not exceeding a hundred.
What else could this be but a bolt from the blue?
People cursed the Murim Alliance for their failure to handle the situation.
And some began to cast a negative gaze at its significance.
They did not ponder the actual circumstances or the problems at hand.
Instead, people would only focus on the fact that the Alliance failed to protect them.
They’ll think that the Murim Alliance is so incompetent that they trampled the budding sprouts that might soon take flight.
The raid was carried out by the Sapha people, yet the blame fell solely on the Murim Alliance.
That’s just how it’s always been. Whenever something goes wrong, people instinctively look for something—or someone—to blame.
This time, that target happened to be the Murim Alliance.
In reality, it’s possible that the Murim Alliance was indeed incompetent.
And as situations like this unfold, people tend to pay more attention to the figures that shine amidst the chaos.
Who was active in that calamity?
The Central Plains still hadn’t overcome the disaster known as the Demonic Realm.
Yearning for heroes, today’s generation was one that creates heroes where none had existed before.
In other words, this generation had an easier time becoming heroes.
As long as they had even a little ability.
So, while the Murim Alliance earned criticism,
who were the highlighted figures in this incident?
Was it the sleeping dragon who had stepped forward, vowing to protect his fellow kin against the Sapha?
Or perhaps the sword dragon, exuding the air of a hero with plum blossoms?
Alongside these two, there were many students and instructors who safeguarded the righteousness and chivalry of the Jeongpa amidst the brutal assault.
Ironically, it was another figure who began to garner recognition from the people.
A person brought the Great Demon Head of the Sapha to their knees—someone who attacked the Shinryonggwan.
Even Cheonghae Ilgeom, the leader of the Kunlun faction, fell, having lost an arm in the process.
The revelation that a mere reviewer, someone who once ranked low, had managed to thwart such a high-ranking individual astonished many.
Thanks to that, a multitude began to circulate gossip about it.
The talk revolved around whether this reviewer had reached Hwagyeong.
Hwagyeong represents a realm where those who have attained it number no more than a thousand.
It is a pinnacle so high that not even a lifetime of honing could achieve it.
It’s not for nothing that they call the peak the burial ground for the unworthy.
No matter how much one tries, they remain stuck at the peak, unable to break through the wall of Hwagyeong.
Thus, people refer to it as the tomb of the unworthy and the tomb of the mediocre.
Could a mere reviewer, who hasn’t even crossed that threshold, possibly have reached such heights? It was simply unbelievable.
There has never been such a reviewer in history, after all.
However, that doesn’t mean the story of the unmanned hero bringing the Great Demon to his knees is a fabrication.
That’s what Cheonghae Ilgeom testified after regaining his senses.
And that’s not all.
Allegedly, right after subduing the Great Demon, the young warrior immediately took strides forward without hesitation.
To eliminate the other Sapha who were slicing through innocents.
Witnesses later remarked that
that day the sky was particularly red.
As the scent of blood began to waft over Mount Tai, not long after, the redness in the sky faded into the smell of charred remains.
The screams and horror among the low-ranking factions transformed into cries from the Sapha faction.
The bloodlust and murderous intent that had engulfed Mount Tai would dissipate by sundown, leaving nothing but fiery energy in its wake.
The master of the red sky showed no hesitation in punishing the wicked.
Moreover, the method was reported to be extremely brutal for a man of their faction; breaking limbs to leave them crippled.
Burning them alive while clenching their throats was just the basics.
Though the Jeongpa were known for restraint, many frowned upon the severity and brutality of a young warrior’s methods.
The prevalent theory was that he couldn’t contain his fury any longer.
That, witnessing the members of his sect being slaughtered by the Sapha, he had been overwhelmed with rage.
The blood saturated mountain filled his nostrils, leading him to spare no mercy.
‘Damn it.’
Naturally, the young man exclaimed that he had simply gathered up the bodies to vent his frustrations.
Everyone treated him with utmost humility, proclaiming him to be modest and unassuming.
In any case, he was the hero who ultimately brought the Great Demon to his knees and thwarted the raid.
Growing merciless against villains, he nevertheless hesitated not in his efforts to save people.
His fierce disposition was enough to make anyone pause on first glance.
Yet within him lay a heart kinder than most.
It was as if he followed in the footsteps of his father, the Tiger Warrior.
In the past, he had been an individual shrouded in absurd rumors, such as being a pampered child of nobility.
Now, many were quick to spread tales alleging that Ho-hyeop deliberately planted those rumors to obscure his son’s talents.
Naturally.
The subject of this story would just grind his teeth and snarl, “Stop talking nonsense!”
No matter how much he denied it or protested that he was nothing of the sort.
The tales that spread through the Central Plains had already circulated too widely to be corrected.
Especially considering the background of the unmanned hero.
He was the sole son of Ho-hyeop, who once instilled sheer terror in the minds of the Sapha.
He was the brother of Geombong, long called the most influential man.
He was a winner of the Yongbong competition.
He was the youngest ever to attain peak prowess.
He was a genius who had earned the title of a true dragon among six dragons and three peaks.
In other words, he was also known as the biggest star from the generation of meteors.
As a result of this situation, the youth now shattered the shackles of being seen solely as a low-ranking practitioner, gaining recognition from others as a true expert.
The True Dragon is not someone to be classified into low ranks.
Those in the Central Plains have begun to regard the True Dragon as exemplary, surpassing his age.
Thus, a new nickname emerged.
One that signified the birth of a new master rather than labeling him merely a latecomer True Dragon.
Didn’t they say the crowd desires a hero?
In that sense, he was the hero everyone longed for.
A man of righteousness, moving without hesitation to save others.
While infinitely ruthless against the Sapha.
Delivering horrendous punishments that terrify evil doers.
Those who witnessed him declared that he seemed a fiend.
Consequently, many began to dub him by a new name:
“So-Yeom-Ra.”
“…!”
creak.
bang-!
Those fingers that had outstretched in a straight line quivered at a mere utterance and veered toward another direction.
Upon my fist colliding with the wall, a crack emerged, reverberating with a sound that resonated throughout the cave.
thump!
I hastily covered my ears that had turned so red and glared at the one who spat that trash at me.
“Hehe.”
“… is it entertaining?”
With a look that suggested utter disbelief, Mo Yong-hee, who was munching on a dumpling with one hand, grinned.
“It’s so much fun!”
“I find none of it amusing.”
“Now that’s strange… Do you truly hate it? It’s certainly a cool nickname.”
“If you think so, then you should put a little restraint in your expression when speaking, Miss Seolbong.”
“Oh dear, how foolish of me!”
At my retort, Mo Yong-hee made a face as though she realized her blunder.
With her fingers, she stretched her mouth downward.
Her expression made my teeth clench together.
‘Oh boy.’
But I certainly wouldn’t dare to unleash my wrath.
I couldn’t behave that way toward a girl who kindly brought me lunch in the midst of the day.
All I could do was silently curse.
‘So-Yeom-Ra, what a pain!’
Every time that cursed word invaded my thoughts, an internal boil brewed within me.
‘Whoever came up with that, I’ll make them wish they’d never seen the true King Yeomra!’
It was such an uncomfortable title that Jinryong seemed almost permissible by comparison. I mean, how ridiculous is it that a person affiliated with the righteous faction gets stuck with a nickname including Yeomra?
‘What sort of scoundrel thinks of these things?’
The more I pondered, the more anger surged.
It was only a month ago that I had first started being called that. The problem must’ve begun with the bizarre rumors that started circulating about me from who knows where.
‘…What? Punishing villains and whatnot…?’
I was already in a foul mood, and the pesky brats causing havoc really threw me off my game; it just got under my skin.
The whole narrative had been splendidly warped.
While it’s true that I heartily detest Sapha.
It wasn’t some grand act of execution or punishment.
I killed those who were destined to die.
I hesitated not since I stood to face no repercussions.
I just couldn’t fathom how they spin this into something with noble intentions or ambitions.
‘Seriously, people adore spreading rumors like there’s no tomorrow.’
That was certainly the most significant issue.
It had to do with Cheonghae Ilgeom. Upon that old man’s testimony, immediately after rising, it sounded as if I had apprehended everything myself!
‘This is maddening…’
No… Well, strictly speaking, it is true.
In re-examining the whole scenario, the problem with the rumors is that everything stemmed as factual, yet it had been crafted to suggest that I performed it all for some noble purpose.
The speed of the spread was absurdly swift!
The biggest issue was truly the peculiarity of that nickname.
“I think it’s fine, but do you hate it that much, Sir?”
“You… truly think it’s acceptable?”
You seriously mean to say that So-Yeom-Ra is fine!?
Mo Yong-hee giggled awkwardly at my face that had scrunched up in disgust.
That expression revealed she probably didn’t regard the title as acceptable either.
“Well, the name is rather strange…”
“See, you agree too.”
“… Regardless, what’s crucial is that the unmanned has a nickname now.”
And that’s right.
For one who is unmanned, a nickname is indeed a significant component.
A nickname symbolizes one’s essence to the unmanned.
Much like a reflection of the martial arts I practiced, their characteristics, and the realms I’ve achieved.
Because of this, there are numerous foolish folks who bestow themselves with ostentatious nicknames.
Such empty nicknames are meant to fade swiftly.
A true nickname, however, is one bestowed by others.
Even those current masters referred to as the Three Lords.
They didn’t get to call themselves the Three Lords simply from their own mouths.
They attracted that title because countless individuals perceived them as the three strongest around.
The same applies to his father’s title, Hohyeop.
The varied titles held by the heads of the Four Great Houses follow suit.
So ultimately, a nickname can be viewed as a form of value for an unsung warrior.
…Still.
“No matter what, this is just unacceptable…!”
In a fit of exasperation, I stomped my foot down, but Mo Yong-hee maintained her composure, watching me without an ounce of distress.
She’d seen me act this way too many times.
‘All good and well…’
So I’m recognized as a master, stepping beyond the latecomer ranks?
Wonderful!
Everything appears splendid.
In the end, I’ve gained a reputation, and it might come in handy someday, so I’ll let that slide.
So-Yeom-Ra? What can you do about a slightly off title?
Considering it, I believed it to be better than the one I had in my past life…
‘…No, both feel equally miserable.’
…Even so, I could push through if I tried hard enough.
Everywhere I go, it’s So-Yeom-Ra! The Little King of Hell! I hear words like “So scary!” or “So awesome!”
That indicated that even that much could still be overcome.
The main concern remains.
‘Why did the rumor spread so quickly?’
My reputation had spread at an alarming rate.
I can’t speak for the conditions beyond these lands, but even considering Hanam alone, the rapidity of the gossip was no joke.
Why else would taverns and inns buzz from dawn till dusk about my affairs?
“It is strange.”
I began to wonder if it was peculiar, and it seemed that Mo Yong-hee was also picking up on some strangeness.
“There’s a sort of synthetic feel to it.”
“That’s true.”
“But… even if you say that, Sir, you already know the reason.”
“…”
That, too, was accurate.
I had a faint grasp of why I found myself in this situation.
‘This is all utterly ridiculous.’
In my view, the current state largely resulted from my mistakes.
To be precise, it was a realization that everything stemmed from the Murim Alliance enduring hatred.
“This kind of pace likely indicates outside interference.”
This was something I was half-assured about.
The rumors circulating around included the Murim Alliance’s involvement. Otherwise, it simply wouldn’t compute.
The Murim Alliance presently held the lowest reputation among the populace.
What’s more, they still bore the title of a revered political faction.
Even if their operational methods were shoddy, there was still some leeway.
A buildup of grievances had spiraled out to reach explosive conditions with this assault.
Consequently, aside from my own matters, the discussions now also revolve around:
That the Alliance must be overhauled!
Many pondered why the Murim Alliance even exists under such conditions.
Thus, it raised more questions.
‘Why me amidst all of this?’
Initially, it was to mitigate the emerging slander against the Murim Alliance, which had gone up in flames.
To conceal the persistent gossip regarding the Alliance.
It felt as though there was a strategy to distract people by offering up my name.
This method was traditional for the Murim Alliance whenever an incident broke loose.
For this reason, I assumed this time might hold similar circumstances. But upon further reflection, it seemed like a different level altogether.
‘At this point…’
It felt like there might be a push to elevate me.
As if they were intentionally trying to boost my profile, all while diminishing the reputation of the Murim Alliance.
‘What’s the reason for this?’
If so, what could their motive be?
No matter how much I ponder it, I cannot grasp the rationale behind it right now.
Because I fail to see what purpose it serves.
Moreover, the biggest problem remains:
‘…Why is my nickname so horrid?’
Circling back again, I was drawn to consider the name now attached to me.
If that’s the case, I could only speculate on the individuals behind the effort to foist this title upon me.
crunch—
I bit down into the ground as I threw another punch forward.
boom!
The sound reverberated brilliantly once more within the cave. Mo Yong-hee, observing with measured patience, finally sighed.
“Please, I’ve told you to take breaks.”
“I’ve rested enough.”
Even while affirming, the punches didn’t cease.
“…At most, it’s been five minutes?”
“That’s entirely sufficient.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
Mo Yong-hee’s suggestion of concern was evident, but that did not halt my movements.
How long had I been at this madness?
‘I don’t know… it feels like it’s been over a week and a half.’
It was hard to tell because I hadn’t kept track of time. This only counted the days I spent holed up in the cave.
Compounding this with preceding days only roused uncertainty regarding how long it really had been.
While I could detect hints of exhaustion creeping in, giving in wasn’t an option.
‘If I’m told to dig, I’ll dig!’
The endless conditioning I was drowning in had been instigated by no other than the former Overlord.
A time when I had recalled past events and sought wisdom from the Overlord.
A point that fell a little after that.
To pick up on new skills meant sidelining everything learned previously, freeing space for new insights.
This is an unwritten code amongst unarmed practitioners!
But of course, everyone thought it had to be done.
I distinctly recall…
The look on the Overlord’s face when I imposed my will upon him for insight into his deep principles.
As well as the transformation in his countenance when I interlaced his essence with my own.
Shall I call it an overwhelming sense of desolation?
If not, perhaps astonishment or even a thrill would suffice.
I remember with utmost clarity the fact that I didn’t relinquish the Purified Flame Wheel’s essence nestled within.
I succeeded in fusing the Overlord’s intrinsic deep science.
Setting aside bartering off its retention of other martial arts.
If someone were to ask me if it was outrageous to claim that I succeeded in picking up the every elusive Arts of the Overlord merely days later, I would say:
‘It was easier than anticipated!’
To my astonishment, the Overlord’s deep science wasn’t exceptionally demanding to grasp!
Even the Overlord himself would concede that he didn’t deem it difficult.
Of course, that didn’t imply that encompassing two distinct arts was simple by any stretch.
The expression on the Overlord’s face back then solidified that notion.
—This is unfathomable!
I naively believed that since my body, capable of taking any and all energy, could take on the Overlord’s arts.
Indeed, that appeared to be good enough.
And while I was somewhat worried about the efficacy of ‘Martial Arts’, the successful retention indicated that my adaptable frame likely wouldn’t face difficulty.
But…
—You’re… truly extraordinary.
To the Overlord, it seemed this was a much different story.
At that time, the Overlord, visibly astounded, expressed to me:
—You command the energy coursing through your being in such a way, and to hold two distinct teachings without difficulty… How can one’s control be this refined?
It felt to the Overlord like he had stumbled upon a new world altogether.
From my stance, I was simply left confused by that revelation.
What did he mean by ‘that way’? How on earth was the energy being controlled?
This was something that only the Overlord, who placed his hand on my back and guided me, could decipher.
—How is it possible to manipulate such precision?
—…Huh?
The Overlord even inquired about this, showcasing genuine curiosity. Of course, the only conceivable response I could muster would be:
—It just works that way?
That was all I could articulate.
I lacked the knowledge to elaborate further.
It was an outrageous statement to make and I briefly fretted that I might’ve offended the Overlord’s sensibilities.
To my complete surprise, the Overlord merely appeared all the more delighted.
What is that expression? It’s unnerving…
Perhaps that was the basis for my current plight. More than likely, I would wager.
The madness I find myself undergoing now stems entirely from what the Overlord commanded.
At the stage of adopting the new principles, I embarked on my journey to most martial arts.
The newly created art known as Tuyapacheonmu.
The creator is the Overlord and it had barely been a century since its inception.
With the sheer force he exhibited, that made this martial art worthy of being termed as divine.
Having faced it firsthand, I was well aware of its potency.
Considering how the foundational movements would pan out, excitement welled within me.
The Overlord then relayed his ecstatic commands.
—All you may utilize as of now is the energy from Tuyapacheonmu to smash through this mountain.
—…Huh?
—Only your fists are allowed. You must not invoke any other energy.
He led me to a mountain, suddenly unleashing such uncanny instructions before turning away to head down.
As I tried to hastily grab him, desperate for an explanation.
—…Wait just a moment…
—Oh, and…
The Overlord simply ignored my pleas and further added:
—You need not utter the term “master” around me. I don’t wish to hear it just yet.
And with that, he swiftly vanished.
Currently, he might periodically check in on my progress, yet otherwise, he remains utterly absent.
That was the precursor to this insanity I now undertake.
‘What a madman.’
To instruct me to break through a mountain using only my fists? It’s absurd! Regardless of how many times I hear it, it’s utterly nonsensical.
‘Am I mad for committing to this?’
If instructed to break through, yet, here I am, genuinely doing it—truly ridiculous.
Others would question the reason.
What was the motivation behind this? Not for merely a day or two, but close to two months!
If enduring such hardship was on the table, wouldn’t it simply be easier to grow stronger the old-fashioned way?
I understood from the first day of pretending to be fooled.
‘This…’
The deep principle that was termed Tuyapacheonmu.
Only through the constant application of its will does it become easier to master than initially expected.
This was rooted closer to restriction than mastery.
The more I engage my body while employing deep essence, the more it brings anguish to my muscles.
The danjeon felt heavily pressed while every fiber of my being felt weighted down as if embedded with iron balls.
Initially, I hurled various expletives at the absurdity behind such teachings.
Yet, after a handful of tries, I began to acquire some discernments.
This deep practice isn’t intended as a form of punishment for the body.
Rather, it serves to facilitate and mold it appropriately.
With each application, subtle changes reveal themselves.
Even if slight, I could feel my muscles eclipsing towards strength.
Ridiculous, isn’t it?
Its pace, maddeningly slow, certainly doesn’t result in noticeable differences unless practiced consistently. Yet even moving my body while employing it yields reinforcement.
If word of this ever leaked, the impact would indeed be monumental.
Why is it that the Overlord’s techniques have earned the title of divine?
It elucidates the rationale behind their remarkable strength, even at such youthful ages.
But there lay a hurdle.
‘It’s truly agonizing.’
The act of engaging in deep energy and moving my body itself?
It’s far too excruciating.
As previously stated, the experience ripples with unbearable discomfort as though inundated with every punishment imaginable.
At first, it was laborious merely to extend my arm.
Twisting my torso, lifting my arms—the agony I felt upon each individual gesture was staggering.
And, to this day, it’s no different.
Even the slightest movement elicits torrents of sweat.
Once in a while, I’d even faint, burdened by the relentless pain.
Every time this transpires, I question: Does it imply that deep principles are inherently like this?
Dare it be true, does this mean the Overlord struggles through akin suffering each time he exercises his martial arts?
At which point, one might say he’s, quite frankly, deranged…?
Any way you parlay it, this has to be an incredibly insane form of martial arts.
While pondering the absurdity of its practices…
‘Yet, I feel stronger.’
Even if it’s minimal, change is detectable; the sensation of gaining strength matters tremendously.
Is it an elevation in tier, or rather, a bodily fortification?
If the Overlord conceived this with intention… he is indeed a monster.
Though I still have not received thorough instruction on the forms of Tuyapacheonmu,
the reason for my ferocious digging at the mountain is simply…
I sensed it was genuinely benefiting me.
“How long do you plan to go on like this?”
Those oblivious to my struggles would think it a futile exercise.
Mo Yong-hee remarked on this promptly.
“Continuing like this will surely harm you. Your Excellency…”
“It’s all perfectly fine.”
I could not reveal the true identity of the Overlord nor could I divulge that I was under his tutelage; thus, to everyone else, I appeared merely as some deranged individual bashing away at the mountain’s depths.
Yet, despite my unconventional antics, she seldom admonished my behavior as she continued to bring food.
Was this due to the remnants of the odd behaviors I’d portrayed?
It was kind of disconcerting…
“Ugh…”
I halted my arm mid-punch, pausing as I felt an especially intense pain surge through me.
Were my wits about me not steadied, I would certainly have fainted.
“…”
Watching this, Mo Yong-hee exhaled a deep, resigned sigh before rising from her perch.
“Don’t forget to eat.”
“Are you leaving?”
“Yes, Lady Namgung is due to arrive tomorrow.”
“Why does she insist on coming again instead of just telling me to rest?”
They all seem to return in shifts, claiming they have to feed me on the designated day.
It’s not as if I was holed up in the cave around the clock.
I tend to return home at night for meals, so I wondered why she sought me out in the afternoon, especially on a shift basis.
‘And how exactly does she know when I go out at night?’
Mo Yong-hee invariably appears as soon as I set out towards the cave under the veil of night.
How could she possibly know I’m heading out?
“I’d like to tell her she should take a break too. It’s just that doesn’t reflect the reality at hand. Lady Namgung seems quick on the draw; unlike others.”
“Hmm?”
“Either way, I’ll take my leave first, Your Excellency. You will return this evening, won’t you?”
“Most likely…?”
Mo Yong-hee, not satisfied with the vagueness of my answer, frowned as she turned her back to the entrance.
Just then…
“Oh! Right.”
“Why now?”
“You should return in seven days and nights, in good health, alright?”
She spoke in a tone heavily laden with concern before she vanished from the cave like it was truly the end of their conversation.
“… Tsk.”
Hearing those words brought an old thought back to the forefront of my mind: the seven days and nights referenced by Mo Yong-hee.
This indicated the day the political assembly would be convened.
I found myself in the predicament of needing to attend the political meeting.
One might query why I should be among those present, but I was the individual who bore witness to the raid most closely.
With that cursed So-Yeom-Ra echoing everywhere, the thought alone was distressing.
Ineluctably, I felt further headaches approaching.
His desire to stick one’s head in was, after all…
“Ha…”
Merely thinking on the matter made me sigh.
‘And how many individuals did I hear were attending?’
It’s entirely focused on those set to participate in the political meeting.
Though I could rationalize that great nobles from the Four Great Families and Nine Clans are coming, those of higher standing are inevitably present.
None other than the fact haunted me.
That was the conjoining of the Gu family’s troops in attendance here.
Who was set to arrive?
Iljang-ro, Ilgeomdaeju, Madame Mi, Gu Hee-bi…
And last, it was said my father would be there as well.
While this is acceptable, that person’s approach held ample significance.
Following a calamity, the assembly materialized, thereby deeming it logical for even noble families to express face at such a gathering.
Only…
‘…Why is my father here?’
The significance of my father’s visit to Hanam was manifold.
Even amid the four great families’ heads attending, could the head of Gu not be present?
For reasons unbeknownst to me, my father was adamantly averse to visiting Hanam.
Known as the guardian of Shanxi, he had plenty of responsibilities to shoulder within the family.
Yet he radiated a peculiar aversion toward merely setting foot here.
In truth, unless for imperative matters, he seldom even journeyed outside Shanxi.
Only when recalling previous events, such as Gu Hee-bi’s responsibilities or my engagement, it became clear that he might simply harbor a grievance regarding Hanam.
‘So does it imply that this incident is significant enough for someone like him to come to Hanam?’
It could indeed be perceived that way.
Questions inevitably lingered within me, bubbles of concern in constant churn.
Most of all…
‘Facing my father remains uncomfortable, whether I’m aware of it or not.’
That sentiment persisted.
Although I sensed some progress compared to before, encountering my father still felt uniquely awkward.
Was that enough cause for my wings in motion to falter?
“Let’s call it a day for today.”
Caught in a swirl of errant thoughts, my focus hadn’t stuck tightly to any subject matter.
Consequently, I resolved to draw today’s labor to a close and, averting my suspended gut-punch thrust, withdrew my focus from the martial techniques surprisingly exerting on me.
With that, all the confines binding my body had evaporated, liberating the aching self now free to breathe and rejuvenate.
My body was more soaked in sweat than a hastily thrown river.
It was exceedingly taxing to move under duress to clam up my fury.
Somewhat relieved, I nonetheless felt invigorated.
At least if I could let out a bit of sweat during my training here, that’s a bit less discomfort to endure.
Immediate afterward, I donned my attire and stepped outside the cave.
I was headed to the inn designated for the students to use as lodging.
Survivors of the raid were unable to return back to their families or factions.
Unless, of course, they arranged provisions to organize a relay from their domiciles.
Of course, if those allied to your sect or clan sent word that it wasn’t necessary, they would send someone through.
That being said, the number of those instances were astonishingly scant.
After all, there’s the political gathering to discuss in the months ahead.
As per sufficiently organized quarters, even the Murim Alliance was relatively well accounted for.
It felt as if everyone were simply in a state of wait.
Once I stepped into the streets of Hanam, the continual clamor of conversation enveloped me just like spirited winds on a shifting sea.
—“I mean, the alliance…”
—“Didn’t the leader say that just last time…?”
As per usual, now they engaged in chatter lingering around the freshest gossip in town.
—“And apparently that’s when So-Yeom-Ra…”
In the strum of conversation, I detected mention of myself, compelling me to apply stronger pressure against my bamboo hat.
Under normal circumstances, I would refrain from such an impediment.
But thanks to the prevailing rumors, I was forced to don it.
‘…How utterly ridiculous.’
A deep sigh escaped my lips.
How could everything tangle and twist this way?
‘I need to go back quickly.’
As that thought darted to the forefront of my consciousness, I began lurching through the crowd.
“Hey, young man!”
I caught wind of someone beckoning my attention.
Who is this? Have they figured me out?
I hesitated, shifting my gaze. Contemplating the option to ignore entirely and brush it off, I ultimately refrained.
The man who had called me was similarly adorned with a bamboo hat.
Though his full visage was hidden from view…
‘He’s powerful.’
I could sense a level of strength from him.
The man flinched slightly as he laid eyes on me. Likely, he caught a similar vibe.
“What brings you here?”
It seemed he misidentified me and seized this unique chance to approach.
The man hesitated, eyes widening, before replying.
“Would you know the way to Baekrim Guesthouse?”
“…Huh?”
I furrowed my brow at his odd question.
The establishment he referenced was the very destination I intended.
Having switched to a guarded posture, I prepared for his next words.
“My daughter’s supposed to be staying there, but since she arrived without notice, I’m uncertain of the direction to take.”
With that statement, I scrutinized the man.
A strong contender, I could not ascertain levels of prowess in confidence.
Perhaps he was a martial artist who had reached the peak.
Perhaps he was merely on the cusp of supreme refinement.
Yet there I stood, still unwilling to lower my guard.
He then took out something from beneath his robe to show me.
It was a letter, stamped as an official decree by the Murim Alliance.
‘Ah, that…’
I figured it contained details about the impending political gathering.
Only upon seeing that did I turn to depart from the man. He must’ve been related to one of the students sheltered there.
There were certainly multiple students within those walls, so it was unclear to me which one he belonged to given the man’s palpable aura. Yes, whether belonging to a clan or sect, his martial prowess was very pronounced.
These musings intrigued me, but first things first.
“Come this way.”
“Are you guiding me?”
“Not exactly, I’m headed to the same spot myself.”
Forthwith, I initiated my lead and advanced toward my destination,
with the illustrious Baekcheon Sword Master Murong Tae shadowing my steps.
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