Chapter: 821
Ilcheonggeom questioned the old man’s words.
“Gyecheonmunju?”
“That’s right.”
“Huh?”
The old man is the head of Gyecheonmun? Ilcheonggeom couldn’t hide his surprise.
It has been a day since the search began. He intended to wait at least two weeks, so how could Moonju suddenly show up like this?
‘Is he really the Gyecheonmunju?’
Doubt quickly flashed through his mind. It was too flimsy to trust based on mere words. Furthermore,
‘Was he really that strong?’
The known level of Gyecheonmunju isn’t particularly high. To put it bluntly, he should be at a level that even the vice-leader of Cheongryongdae could handle…
‘The author.’
Even if the old man couldn’t be called weak, he was certainly at the Hwagyeong level. Quite contrary to the available information, his mastery was excessively high.
As Ilcheonggeom looked at Gyecheonmunju with suspicious eyes, the old man spoke once more.
“I heard you were looking for me, so I thought it would be polite to come here first to introduce myself. I hope it’s to your liking.”
A hollow laugh escaped Ilcheonggeom at the old man’s words.
“Seriously….”
His gaze sunk coldly.
“Have you underestimated the Alliance quite casually?”
At Gyecheonmunju’s words, Ilcheonggeom’s expression twisted.
“You showed up knowing that the Murim Alliance was looking for you? Even knowing who I am?”
Grrrrrr—!!
Starting from his shoulder, Ilcheonggeom’s aura began to ripple.
“If this is a joke, it’s not funny.”
“No joke, as I said, I was merely being polite.”
“Really?”
Keuggeuk-!! A fierce energy covered the sword’s blade.
The energy generated waves, and soon enough, the wind slowly began to gather.
“In that case, I suppose I should also display some proper manners.”
He shifted into a battle stance. Currently, the Blue Dragons were scattered, but they would join swiftly once the fight started.
He also recalled the potential presence of Gyecheonmun’s disciples stationed nearby.
‘Subdue if possible. If not, eliminate.’
An order to verify their ties to the Demonic Cult and eliminate them, if true, but in this situation… perhaps a different approach would be fine.
The fact that the opponent appeared personally meant it was a kind of declaration of war.
Crunch-! He put power into his feet. The ground caved in as Ilcheonggeom lunged toward Gyecheonmunju.
He was fast. The sound only followed after Ilcheonggeom reached his destination.
Thud-!
The sword swayed lightly.
A flash of light poured forth like a deluge of stars. Just as the light was about to reach Gyecheonmunju’s neck—
“I know the Great Lord’s intentions toward the Holy King.”
Towering-!
Paaaaah—!!!
At the single utterance from Gyecheonmunju, Ilcheonggeom’s body halted. The sword stopped mid-air, releasing a powerful gust.
The blade froze just before contact. Ilcheonggeom glared at Gyecheonmunju with a chilling gaze.
“… What did you just say?”
His voice exuded a palpable menace, but he refrained from further action.
Gyecheonmunju followed up, “What did you just say?”
“And. I know that the Holy King’s health is not good as well.”
“…!”
“I trust your Lord also knows this. Is that right?”
The information laid bare caused Ilcheonggeom’s eyes to waver.
How on earth does he know?
Noticing Ilcheonggeom’s reaction, Gyecheonmunju lifted the corners of his lips, a sly smile forming.
“Our eyes and ears are not just in Sacheon.”
“…”
“I apologize if my words surprised you, but I presumed the intentions of the Blue Dragon Lord weren’t entirely hostile.”
As Gyecheonmunju spoke, he moved his hand.
His slender fingers brushed against Ilcheonggeom’s sword.
“If what I see is not the truth… I’ll cater to what your Lord desires… if it is indeed true.”
With that, he nudged the blade, and the sword was pushed back effortlessly.
“How about we take a moment to talk peacefully? I’m quite certain it won’t be bad news for you, my lord.”
“…”
Ilcheonggeom’s breath hitched slightly upon hearing those words. There was no need to heed them.
Discussion.
Engaging with Gyecheonmunju, who is suspected of ties to the Demonic Cult.
This was something entirely unacceptable for someone of his stature, let alone as the chief of the main faction.
He ought to close his ears and swing his sword without hesitation.
Dare he play games with the Grand Master of the Alliance?
To let such an affront slide would betray the virtues he was sworn to uphold…
He knew Gyecheonmunju understood this.
Clank.
As Ilcheonggeom finally came to his senses, the sword he had drawn had already returned to its sheath.
“… If you keep spouting nonsense, I’ll cut you down.”
Ilcheonggeom hissed through gritted teeth.
“Thank you for your benevolence.”
Gyecheonmunju chuckled at Ilcheonggeom’s indignation.
And then—
“…”
In the shadows, the master of darkness observed quietly.
“Is that so?”
He remarked while listening to the Dark King’s words.
“Yes.”
“Hmm…”
Gyecheonmunju and Ilcheonggeom had made contact.
He clicked his tongue inwardly at that revelation.
As expected…
“It’s faster than I anticipated?”
If he were solely pleased by the smooth flow of events, that would be one thing.
“I thought they would reflect a bit longer.”
Despite everything, he was the grand leader of the Alliance. He was someone deep in the world of martial politics for years.
Even with foresight, he thought he would hesitate at least once.
But—
‘Without a shred of doubt, he took my hand?’
Ilcheonggeom readily accepted Gyecheonmunju’s words without a second thought.
Oh, he hasn’t confirmed thoroughly whether he had truly crossed that line yet.
‘To me, it seems he’s already crossed over.’
If one has begun walking a certain path, it is practically over.
Thinking of it caused a wry smile to form.
‘Did I expect anything from this?’
He had ridiculed the scenario, believing there was no lower depth and that he should simply laugh. Yet, there appeared to remain a tiny shred of anticipation lurking in the shadows.
In the end, disappointment stems from having had expectations to begin with.
“Still, thanks to you, I feel invigorated.”
This time, the smile wasn’t a sarcastic one.
It was a genuine grin born from a pleasant feeling.
If killing is inevitable, isn’t it better to be free of any regrets? In that light, this encounter was a worthwhile yield.
Ilcheonggeom had renounced even the remnants of beliefs he may have clung to; that was enough for now.
“Then, where should we head…?”
He strolled forward, bending slightly. A squelch echoed.
It was the noise of stepping into a puddle.
The surroundings were dark, obscuring the details of the situation.
Immediately, he raised his hand to conjure a fire.
Whoosh-!
Though a small flame, it illuminated the area in an instant. Soon enough, the scene was revealed.
What he was stepping into wasn’t a water puddle.
All blood.
A faint metallic tang hung in the air. His eyes darted across the blood-soaked ground.
“Ugh… Huh…”
A man, seemingly paralyzed with terror, whimpered. Flanking him were lifeless bodies.
Their throats had been cruelly ripped apart. The truth was, he was the one who had dealt the fatal blow.
These were the ones suspected of carrying out secret dealings with Gyecheonmun.
They were within the realm potentially linked to the Demonic Cult.
“So…”
Ilcheonggeom reached out, gently tracing the man’s cheek.
Blood from his hands smeared across the skin. The man could surely feel the warm trickle of blood.
“P-please… please… please…”
The man’s body trembled uncontrollably. Gradually, his pants started to darken.
He must have wet himself.
Brushing past that, Ilcheonggeom pressed on with his inquiry.
“Who are you?”
This time, he genuinely hoped for a response. He wanted to avoid having the man end up like the previous victims.
Inside a room at the heart of the Murim Alliance in Hanam.
Rustle. Rustle.
It was a time when most were asleep, the air hushed. There, a flickering lamp barely lit a room where an elderly man moved his brush with remarkable speed.
It felt as if he completed the letter after just a few strokes.
What’s more, he didn’t even seem fatigued, taking no pause whatsoever. The old man continued to diligently attend to the document.
Despite the speed and precision of his work, the letters piled upon the desk remained. This indicated an overwhelming amount of them.
Even at first glance, the workload seemed insurmountable, yet the old man appeared unbothered, silently tending to his task.
If there was regret, it was in the stark contrast of his current pace compared to his youth.
Twenty years. No, even just ten years back, he would’ve already wrapped up his tasks. The frailty of aging struck him hard.
He continued laboring for a good while longer.
“… Hmm.”
Eventually, the old man set his brush down for a moment.
Then, rubbing his tired eyes with his thumb and forefinger, he exhaled.
“I’m getting old too.”
A bitter smile escaped him.
It felt more pronounced, realizing the difference from before. Then again, at this age, getting old is inevitable.
However, the most troubling aspect was the fact that not just the body aged—
‘Even the heart.’
The principle is that even the feelings he held dear have aged as well.
Time can swirl away the convictions and beliefs once held dearly.
Knowing this, the old man often pondered.
‘… Indeed.’
Is there anything left of the unwavering beliefs that once guided him? How many of the dreams he had in his youth remain in this weary shell?
He felt curious. Utterly intrigued, yet paradoxically unwilling to confront the answer.
Why was that? Perhaps—
‘Is it because I already know the answer?’
Could it be that the knowledge of the answer itself is what frightens him?
It somehow felt like that so the old man, Mukyeon, let out a wry chuckle and resumed his brushwork.
‘… My mind wanders too much.’
He had started entertaining thoughts he had long since abandoned. Whenever he had too much time on hand, he found himself lost in such reveries. He already understood the cause of this state.
‘It must be because of that girl.’
Was her name Piyeonyeon? The woman who claimed to be the descendant of the Eulryeong Sword Master.
Ever since she came into Shanxi, brought up by a child, Mukyeon’s heart became restless.
It felt as if he had encountered remnants of the past he had worked hard to forget.
Even after all the years of convincing himself that it was to no avail, once that girl appeared, he couldn’t keep up with that losing battle either.
Could it truly be that there was no alternative?
He left the Alliance without discovering the answer. Yet—
‘Returning, I find the girl has shown up again.’
Ultimately, she appeared as if reminding Mukyeon not to forget his unresolved homework.
“Don’t shy away this time. Reveal the answers you’ve withheld.”
It seemed to carry such intent.
“… Haha.”
Suddenly, Mukyeon chuckled at the thought.
If this is a dilemma, it is undoubtedly a complex one. If so,
‘The one who conjured this troublesome question is…’
Who could be the mastermind behind this entanglement?
A familiar face jumped to his mind.
Not only had he forced her to bring the child forward, but he also made him constantly revisit those days.
Holy King.
Thinking of him, Mukyeon rubbed the creases formed on his lips in silence.
If there’s a questioner, it could only be that young man.
‘Perhaps… did he know everything all along?’
If that is the case, what on earth did he have knowledge of to act thus?
It was unclear.
Apart from Piyeonyeon, the Holy King was likewise a daunting riddle for Mukyeon.
At least.
Not yet, that is.
“… Hah.”
While lost in thought, Mukyeon once again began to move his brush.
He had taken ample rest.
Now was the moment to prioritize fulfilling his responsibilities. Thus, he intended to resume his work immediately.
“… ”
Suddenly, the brush that had been moving smoothly froze.
He turned his gaze toward the flickering lamp. In that instant,
Flick.
The light, which had been lit, abruptly snuffed out. Surely, there was no breeze blowing.
As the light extinguished, darkness fell heavily over the room.
It was an obviously unnatural situation. Anyone would have been bewildered, yet Mukyeon remained surprisingly composed.
It was as if he understood the reason behind this disruption.
To prove his thought, Mukyeon whispered softly.
“… Had I known you were coming, I would have prepared a ride… I’m sorry it slipped my mind.”
Mukyeon’s tone appeared congenial, resembling that of reuniting with a long-lost friend, yet his eyes conveyed a different sentiment.
Though the room was devoid of others, at the moment he spoke, someone already stood before him.
The dark veil concealed all visibility ahead. Yet, from that encroaching shadow, a singular figure emerged with vivid clarity: a pair of red eyes, glowing like embers.
The blood-red irises, laden with wrath, bore down on Mukyeon, who found it difficult to swallow.
Yet, he steeled himself, resisting the urge to yield.
And moments later—
“I have many questions for you, who have broken your vow.”
The voice of the crimson-eyed figure resonated with gravity.
Ugh.
In tandem with that, a massive hand seized Mukyeon’s throat.
His slender frame dangled helplessly, ensnared by powerful fingers.
“I only want to ask one thing.”
Guh-.
“Silence.”
Gu Cheol-woon confronted Mukyeon with a voice that seemed capable of rending him apart in that instant.
“Where is my son?”
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