Chapter: 737
“I report that Ilryongdae has returned.”
A man.
The leader of Ilryongdae, Song Jong-ho, responded to the words of the sect leader, Geom-seon.
“Good. I hope you had a safe trip.”
“Yes.”
Thirty people joined Nasong. No casualties.
A few had minor injuries, but they were not deep.
An execution of commands executed with near perfection.
He was indeed the most trustworthy figure in the alliance right after Geomje.
“You’ve worked hard.”
“No, it’s only honorable if it’s for the sake of the alliance.”
Ilryongdaeju said this firmly, and Geom-seon nodded after listening.
At the same time, he began to move.
As Geom-seon stepped forward, the waiting Ilryongdaeju quickly stood up to follow him.
“What’s his condition?”
“He’s subdued and locked in a secret room.”
“Did you gather any information separately along the way?”
“…”
At the leader’s question, Ilryongdaeju paused for a moment before responding.
“He’s a tight-lipped fellow; I couldn’t obtain much information. I’m sorry.”
“Hmm.”
Geom-seon let out a shallow sigh at this answer.
It’s a shame. However, Geom-seon did not blame Ilryongdaeju.
‘Is the Death Sound Sword so tight-lipped that he can’t even open his mouth…?’
Song Jong-ho, the Death Sound Sword.
His title was given because anyone who hears his voice meets their end.
Though he was indeed a secret guest with a somewhat ominous title, he had spent a long time as a legitimate figure in the Murim Alliance.
A legitimate figure who comes from the shadows. Hence, he is called the dagger of the Murim Alliance.
Or a figure referred to as the Shadow of the Alliance.
‘If the Death Sound Sword failed to talk, it must have meant he’s quite the remarkable character.’
The fact that such a person could not obtain any information was quite surprising.
The reason he dispatched the Death Sound Sword was precisely because he was a warrior specialized for such missions.
‘This is troublesome.’
Indeed, very troublesome.
Although there were still many means left, if they couldn’t profit in the end, Geom-seon had very few options to choose from.
If it comes to that, he would need to call someone even more specialized than the Death Sound Sword…
‘In this situation…?’
The problem was that this individual happened to be the Poison King.
Originally, it was a place responsible for the darkness within the sect, and the job of torturing criminals and extracting information was carried out by the Tang clan.
Yet since the crimes of the Tang clan were revealed, and the entire clan had been put under scrutiny, it became quite difficult to ask for assistance.
‘Tsk.’
The wrinkled brows of Geom-seon furrowed at the rather convoluted situation.
‘It’s unavoidable.’
Even with the situation this dire, one must look for methods regardless.
Things couldn’t get more complicated in an already tangled mess.
‘…’
As he mulled over the situation, a certain figure flashed through Geom-seon’s mind.
He was the young man who had crushed the monster released by Shaolin in the past and was currently the most renowned figure in Hanam.
‘…Soyeomra.’
The son of ‘that’ hero, born in Guga.
The man clenched his teeth quietly, recalling the lump of flesh that had surpassed its prime.
‘Who would have thought he could even defeat the dragon?’
It was well-known that Soyeomra was a better warrior than expected.
However, Geom-seon never envisaged he would actually defeat the Shenlong.
The reasoning was simpler than anticipated.
‘…From personal experience, the Shenlong is definitely not weak.’
This was because Geom-seon had unofficially faced the dragon and directly sparred with him.
What could be the worth of that child?
Just how exceptional must he be for Shaolin to bet everything on him?
Also.
‘Can that child truly become a symbol?’
The future of the Murim Alliance.
Leaving behind the ten great masters and the three venerable elders who had entered their twilight years, will he have the qualifications to become a symbol of the sect in the future?
That was what he was trying to ascertain.
Shinryong had confidently passed the test set by Geom-seon.
With an overwhelming amount that could hardly be considered a mere coincidence.
The Baekboshin Kwon and Hwang A Gang Ram unleashed using it.
This child distinctly had the makings of a symbol even without the help of the Alliance.
If that’s the case, he would surely ascend faster and higher with assistance.
With these thoughts in mind, Geom-seon gradually began to devise a plan, and the martial arts competition was essentially the inception of that scheme.
What they called the ultimate plan for the best in the world.
The Central Plains began to teeter with the appearance of the red monster.
In order to re-establish the Murim Alliance firmly, a focal point was necessary.
This plan was to bind it together as the being known as Shenlong.
‘…To think even Shenlong could fall so miserably.’
Who could have guessed that such a formidable presence like Shenlong would be defeated so wretchedly?
Geom-seon still struggled to shake off the memories of that scene.
The agonizing aura that gravitated so menacingly around them.
An incredible murderous intent that could not be regarded as that of a normal person.
Thus, it was likely that everyone who witnessed that sight shared the same thought.
Shenlong was extraordinary.
That Shenlong, who dared to continue engaging in combat against such an entity, was revealingly impressive.
Even though it was a duel between two warriors, it might have appeared as if facing an opponent outside the realm of common sense, making Shenlong appear even grander.
A genius, perhaps a monster?
A reality that couldn’t be summarized with mere words.
The Gu Yangcheon that Geom-seon had observed was that type of person.
This only raised further queries.
‘…Cheonan. What exactly did you witness?’
The abbot of Shaolin, Cheonan.
Why did someone with foresight ask for such matchups?
In a perfect world, Shinryong should have advanced two or three times more than that.
In the end, he had to succumb to the King of Tao.
‘That child seems to ruin everything.’
It was the same back then.
Is it Gu again this time?
Unpleasant memories of the past surfaced.
Geom-seon pressed forward without easing his furrowed brows.
Finally, he arrived at the murky depths of the Alliance’s dungeon.
Creek-!!
As he pulled open the heavy door, an unusual sound echoed, revealing the inside.
“Ilryongdae meets the leader!”
Thud thud thud-!!
Everyone within knelt before Geom-seon.
He slightly nodded back at them and gazed straight ahead.
In the distance, he could see a massive figure bound tightly with iron chains.
The very source of that nauseous aura that he felt upon entering.
“Hmm.”
As Geom-seon approached, he slowed down his pace.
The man had his head bowed, catching his breath.
He didn’t appear dead, but it seemed his limbs’ ligaments were completely severed, leaving no visible wounds elsewhere.
Strangely, various instruments of torture lay scattered around, though none were in decent condition.
Geom-seon reached out.
Hiss-! Clang!
A soldering iron that had been sitting on the floor flew up.
It felt warm, as if it had just been heated.
“It appears you were getting started, weren’t you?”
Could those broken weapons also have been intended for that purpose?
Then.
‘Why is this guy still intact?’
Despite having undergone torture, he displayed no visible injuries apart from his ligaments.
What on earth was happening?
When Geom-seon gave a glance at the Daeju, Ilryongdaeju hurriedly provided an explanation.
“…His skin is unnaturally tough. They’re attempting whatever tortures they can, yet he’s not easily harmed.”
“Huh, even with the Lord’s strength?”
“…I apologize.”
What an absurd situation.
Following the explanation, Geom-seon immediately seized a nearby sword and swung it.
There was no hesitation.
Clang-!!
“…”
Geom-seon’s sword collided against the man and bounced off.
The edge couldn’t even pierce his skin, shattering instead.
“Oh….”
Even without any reinforcement, how could the sword break so easily?
Are we saying his skin is made of steel?
Swish.
Surprise was short-lived as the subdued man seemed to awaken, lifting his head.
“…Huh… That tickles…”
Geom-seon flinched as their gazes locked.
He was scraggly, with a haggard look as though he hadn’t eaten in days.
But it was his eyes that held a peculiar sensation.
Purple.
The man’s eyes were a vivid purple.
“…I was sleeping comfortably. Why’d you have to bother waking me up?”
“…”
For a moment, Geom-seon frowned at those words.
But then he immediately recognized him based on the reported impressions.
A broad figure with light green hair.
Having heard he possessed the Won Sword as a weapon, this had to be him.
‘He’s that one who raided the sect.’
A being who had invaded the sect, slaying the elders and throwing the vicinity into chaos.
A peculiar warrior leading a cult known as the Demonic Cult. He was a minion of the Heavenly Demon.
“It’s a true pleasure to see you. Do you know who I am?”
Hehehe…!
At Geom-seon’s inquiry, the man suddenly chuckled.
“…Ah, I apologize. It’s just that asking if you know the best swordsman in the world struck me as somewhat humorous.”
“I’m glad you’re aware.”
“Well, it’s well within my knowledge.”
As he spoke, his eyes dimly lit up.
“The owner of the long-derelict roots. The words of a Taoist who has lost his faith. Isn’t that you?”
Hiss—!
Crash-!!
Barely as he finished speaking, a blunt object flew in and forcefully struck the man’s head.
“A sinner shouldn’t dare to speak with such crude tongue.”
That was Ilryongdaeju’s action. However.
“Ha ha…! That one stings a bit, doesn’t it.”
Even now, the man simply lifted his head as if he had felt no harm.
Geom-seon watched him and once again posed his question.
“Are you truly the one who invaded the sect, killed innocent elders, and murdered the head of the Hubei branch of the Murim Alliance?”
Chuckle….
The man laughed upon hearing this.
Just before his response reached Geom-seon’s ears, the leader’s expression grew increasingly twisted.
“Inspector, words ought to be direct.”
“…What do you mean?”
“Right, I did do it. But to call me innocent? How grandly lacking in conscience is that?”
Clang-!!
The sound of rattling chains echoed as the man stirred.
In an instant.
Swish—!
Those nearby simultaneously drew their swords.
“I eliminated those gnawing away at this rotten Central Plain. Is that truly a crime? Inspector. You have no right to tarnish me as a sinner.”
“What crime did they commit?”
“It’s pitiable to pretend you’re ignorant when you know full well. Is that what it means to hold the position of a leader in a political faction?”
Wiggle.
Fueled by the continued exchange, Geom-seon felt his patience begin to fray.
His urge to sever the man’s head was stronger than ever.
No matter how suspiciously firm his physique was, cutting off his head wasn’t impossible.
Yet, precision in applying force essential to the point of torture was infeasible; it was only either kill or spare him.
Was he aware of that?
It seemed this fellow was smarter than appearances indicated.
“What is your identity and purpose, then?”
Despite everything, he maintained extreme patience. This work had to be accomplished somehow.
“We’re cleaners.”
“Cleaners?”
“The filthy and vile politicians in this society. The cleaners who rid you of your presence. That is our identity and purpose.”
Hehehe-!
The laughter from the man caused everyone around him to flinch. The heaviness behind his words was almost palpable.
Geom-seon dismissed this statement.
That was mere empty talk devoid of meaningful information.
Clean up political factions? Not a single person throughout history ever attempted such.
Even the so-called ‘Iron Blooded Monarch’ had never dared.
“…I heard that someone called Cheonma is behind you.”
Flinch.
Geom-seon’s mention of Cheonma made the man shudder slightly.
He caught the sight without missing a beat.
“Isn’t his will aligned with yours?”
“…Someone like me would never comprehend his intentions.”
“Hmm.”
Madness defined.
That was Geom-seon’s assessment of this man.
What, in the name of the heavens, was the essence of Cheonma?
By joining forces with the Open, the Demonic Cult was managing to hide its operations, while the damages were quietly growing without notice.
Moreover, there had even been incidents of assaults on the sect’s core; how could they merely overlook this?
“If so, where exactly is he hiding?”
“…”
Where on earth could Cheonma be?
What on earth could motivate him to make these moves at this moment?
The man silently regarded Geom-seon.
Without averting his gaze, he met that steady gaze head-on.
Before long.
“Wait for it.”
His twisted smile accompanied his utterance to Geom-seon.
“You folks won’t need to track him down; he will reveal himself soon enough.”
“…”
“Your insignificant selves only need to await his decree of termination.”
A statement laced with meticulous meaning behind a firm resolution.
Hearing this, Geom-seon cast a dim glance at the man before ultimately turning away.
There was no need for further discussion.
“Ilryongdaeju.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Take measures to keep him alive as long as possible.”
There were still many questions to ponder, but there was no time left.
With work lying ahead, Geom-seon had to move.
Patter.
The instant Geom-seon stepped forward, a clattering echoed from behind.
The sound of torture resuming.
Cruel and violent acts.
Hearing the sounds, the expression on the face of the Daoist did not change in the slightest.
‘Is Cheonma truly real?’
His head brimmed with thoughts of Cheonma’s existence.
‘What on earth is he after?’
What kind of schemes could drive him to commit such gruesome acts?
Moreover.
‘Is it true he personally will come?’
As he recalled the man’s ominous statement, Geom-seon had to stroke his beard thoughtfully.
‘That’s absurd.’
This was the headquarters of the political faction, not just any place.
Hanam, where the Murim Alliance’s headquarters resides, and he dares to come walking in?
No other being, throughout the bloody history of the world, had ever done such a thing.
Could the Cheonma truly be capable of that?
‘There’s no way.’
There was absolutely no possibility.
Geom-seon held firm in his conviction.
Thus, awakening with a glint in his eyes, Geom-seon contemplated.
‘Cheonma. I don’t care who you are, but it won’t take long.’
What kind of position or purpose lies behind him?
For the sake of this position, he is sitting in now.
Geom-seon had resolved to locate this Cheonma character and eliminate him by any means necessary.
Hanam.
The waiting room of the Murim Alliance headquarters.
“Achoo!”
At that moment, I sneezed violently, wiping my nose with my hand.
While doing so, I unconsciously scratched my ear with my pinky finger.
“Ouch… My nose itches.”
Where on earth had I been raving about? My nose and ears were going all itchy.
Is someone cursing me? After swallowing so many curses, I no longer cared to know who was casting them.
“Hmph.”
After blowing my nose one more time, I glanced around.
Ah, the familiar sight.
I was back inside the alliance’s inner sanctum before noon.
The reason? No other than to take part in the 16th round of the competition that follows the previous martial arts event.
Only to find myself in the lead-up to the sixteenth match.
It meant there were hardly a few left, and the martial arts festival was already nearing its conclusion.
“Hmm.”
As I snuggled into the provided chair while snoring, I carefully rolled my eyes and surveyed my surroundings.
And I struggled to hold back laughter at the scene unfolding before me.
‘The vibe is quite fierce here.’
All around, unclear energy buzzed, and excitement was rampant.
The fact that we were down to the sixteenth round indicated that at least half of them had hit their peak.
The aura they shaped together was as murky as ever.
Everyone seemed too busy to care about one another.
Some had their eyes closed, some stared at the ground, and some quietly polished their swords.
They simply froze like statues, yet their energies busily probed around the area for any signs of weakness.
Not a single one of them could drop their snake-like demeanor.
Especially.
‘At this rate, I might get sick. Stop looking at me, will you?’
Such a multitude of prying glances headed my way had me feeling exhausted.
Looks like the fight with Shenlong left quite an impression on them.
‘Tsk.’
Even on the way here, I dealt with much pesky crowding.
Just days before, I could walk unhindered, but suddenly, they recognize me from somewhere and swarm over like lunatics.
From now on, I’ll seriously need to consider using face masks or some illusion skill.
‘The life of a celebrity…’
It was somewhat similar in my past life, but there was a distinguishing difference.
‘In my previous life, those who saw me were bursting with the intent to kill. Is it different this time?’
This time, it appeared I’d become noteworthy for all the right reasons, rather than resembling a grotesque target.
That almost felt like it wasn’t a bad thing.
But then I started to wonder if I was secretly enjoying this whole scenario without realizing it.
In contemplating such things, a sense of despair gripped me despite my enjoyment.
What on earth was I doing at this age?
For a moment, the whole thing felt ludicrous.
As a result, I let out just a bit of frustration.
Phew-!
“…!!”
“Cough!!”
“Ugh…!”
I pulled a stunt thinking I was being scrutinized.
I disrupted the flow of energy, causing it to ricochet.
While it likely wouldn’t injure them, startled reactions erupted all around due to the sudden jolt.
Most were taken aback, halting their actions to gawk at me.
Of the crowd, four individuals managed to maintain their composure.
Among them, one was just holding back; the other three were genuinely oblivious to me, which meant the rest were all watching me intently.
The flow of energy was swiftly regained, and this time, genuine gazes headed my way.
Grinning, I declared, “Well, it feels much more comfortable when you all look openly rather than sneakily glancing at me, right?”
“…”
Perhaps because my words were laced with sarcasm, the expressions of those caught staring turned quite uncomfortable.
What of it?
Who had asked them to gawk at me?
Feeling a tad more at ease, I sank deeper into my chair.
There was still a bit of time before the start, and I thought it might be the right moment to take a break.
“You’re still so cool.”
Someone from beside me spoke up. It was Yeongpung, who had been waiting alongside me.
By the way, Yeongpung was one of the few who hadn’t directed any energy my way.
Oh, and the other two still nearby were Peng Wujin and Dang Soryeol; the one who managed to hold back was Dao Wang.
“What do you mean, cool…?”
“Haha. Our Gu So-hyeop has always been inspiring to many.”
“…Hmm.”
If any of the company—with Jamryong, Cheoljiseon, or Seongyul among them—had heard that, they would immediately tell him to cease his nonsense.
Knowing that, I could only give an awkward grin.
Yeongpung was polishing his sword with a smile that had become part of his demeanor.
He suddenly turned to face me and continued.
“How’s your condition?”
“How am I? Felt fine.”
“You seemed injured quite badly… Are you genuinely alright?”
“Yes. I reckon this level will mend with a little spit.”
Bearing the trauma and internal injuries from my fight with the dragon.
To be honest, I hadn’t completely healed yet.
It would take some time for recovery.
But it was manageable. After all, I wasn’t exactly facing any hard fights left this time.
That’s what slipped out of my mouth during contemplation.
Then abruptly.
“My apologies.”
Yeongpung unexpectedly threw out the word of apology at me.
Why such a sudden apology?
With a puzzled expression, I eyed him.
“What’s this about?”
“I had hoped to display the same actions towards Shinryong as you did with him, but… I don’t think that’ll be possible this time around.”
Ah.
Only upon hearing the continuation did I grasp what Yeongpung meant by his apology.
Concerning the duel against the dragon.
At that occasion, I had inflicted pain on myself purposefully to bring Shinryong to the same level.
That must’ve lingered in his mind.
The reason being.
“I can’t guarantee that I can land a blow on you in my current state… I’ll do my best under the circumstances, though.”
This was because my opponent in the bout would be none other than Yeongpung.
His longing to fight me had materialized, leading to a showdown between us.
At this moment, it felt questionable whether we should be simply indulging in this chat. Neither Yeongpung nor I appeared bothered by it, however.
I could only laugh at his statement, thrown out like an impeccably fashioned vow.
“Of course. Please do your utmost.”
I similarly hoped for him to give his best.
I earnestly wished to be struck by the plum blossoms he cast my way and preferred that it would indeed be as such.
No, it must be.
‘It should reach that level.’
So he could be addressed, at least in appearance, as the heir of that insufferable old bloke from long ago.
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