episode_0032

An insanely vast land. Dynasties changed at every opportunity. With such a large territory, wars and conflicts over various hegemonies never ceased within its borders.

And that’s not all. Ancient Central Plains was a place where martial artists would shoot sword qi from their blades and palm qi from their hands, causing chaos everywhere.

So, how could the state’s administrative power reach every corner? The lives of common people, caught between rampant bandit groups and predatory political forces, were truly a ‘struggle’.

Thus, a unique culture emerged among them. Relying on family and relatives rather than the state. And living by their own personal connections. It wasn’t just a shallow relationship of exchanging greetings. It was, literally, a relationship beyond family. A bond closer to devotion than simple familiarity. This was called gwanxi.

While sharing the meaning of ‘personal connection,’ its depth was on another level. And the prime example of such gwanxi was the master-disciple relationship. A master was like a parent. This meant that, conversely, a disciple was like a master’s child. Bang Jongdae was the only direct disciple of the Justice Alliance Leader. And me? I was a dharma-friend who had exchanged a wooden moktak with Bang Jongdae!

Geum Myeongju’s sharp gaze softened. The exchange of a moktak signified that Cheongun and Bang Jongdae had formed a gwanxi. How could Geum Myeongju, Bang Jongdae’s master, take such a matter lightly? Naturally, his attitude towards Cheongun softened considerably.

“May this humble monk ask again, what was your intention in attacking the Blackwood Gate, Young Hero?”

“Isn’t it a branch of the Demonic Cult?”

“I ask again. May I inquire what you seek to gain by striking a branch of the Demonic Cult?”

Cheongun took a sip from his teacup and spoke. His face was uncharacteristically serious. Given his opponent, Cheongun temporarily set aside his playful demeanor. His opponent was the Justice Alliance Leader. It was impossible to use ad-hoc nonsense to defuse the situation, as he had with Bang Jongdae.

Nor did he intend to bow his head. Thus, Cheongun chose a direct confrontation.

“I ask the Alliance Leader. What do you believe the Heavenly Demonic Cult does in the name of the strong?”

“They oppress the weak and commit wicked deeds.”

“Then what will happen to the world as they gain more power?”

“It will be stained with blood.”

“Then I wish to ask again. Why has the Justice Alliance stood by idly, knowing this, until now?”

At those words, the Alliance Leader’s gaze sharpened. Cheongun, however, was not intimidated. Instead, he handed over a few prepared letters. The Alliance Leader slowly scanned them. Each one detailed the atrocities committed by the Blackwood Gate: plunder and murder, kidnapping and torture, and even evidence of attacks on innocent civilian homes, all meticulously documented.

The Alliance Leader’s face progressively hardened.

“These are things that happened while the Justice Alliance wasted time sending out spies.”

“……”

“Alliance Leader, you follow the teachings of Buddha, do you not? Is its foundation not to save all sentient beings with love and compassion? However, compassion sometimes demands decisive action. It is like a parent taking a knife from a child’s hand. That is all I have done. If the Justice Alliance had acted even an hour sooner, there would have been no need for me to step forward.”

“Then what do you intend to do with the captured demons?”

Cheongun chuckled, as if wondering why such a question was asked. “I’ll let them all live.”

Why kill demons? Demons are inherently important in their very existence, so Cheongun had unequivocally never considered killing them. However, the Alliance Leader could not have known Cheongun’s true intentions. He merely stared at Cheongun with surprised eyes.

“But there will be strong opposition.”

“I plan to treat them with the spirit of great compassion and mercy, and to impart heart techniques of the demon-subduing lineage.”

Once a demon, always a demon, anyway. It was a very advantageous choice for Cheongun to appropriately ‘cleanse’ them and make them his subordinates.

“……Hahaha.”

But the Alliance Leader gazed at Cheongun with admiring eyes. He had been troubled by several concerns before coming here. These concerns arose from observing the actions of Cheongun, an absolute master who seemed to have fallen from the sky.

The first was none other than Cheongun’s talent. He had received all reports from Namgung Hwi, the Cheongseong Mountain Branch Leader. They stated that a boy not yet twenty was wielding sword art with a fishing line, that he had accumulated at least 60 years of inner power in his dantian, as if he had gained an ancient serendipitous encounter, and that he had mastered a peerless divine martial art of unknown Taoist origin.

The Alliance Leader could not hide his astonishment. And for good reason; if those words were truly fact, the genius of the boy named Cheongun was unprecedented.

Furthermore, he was said to have received martial arts instruction from the Red Night Sword Sovereign, the only one in Jianghu hailed as the Supreme Sword. The Alliance Leader’s gaze drifted to Cheongun’s waist. There was a scabbard there, and ‘Red Night Sword’ was engraved on its rough surface.

He had wondered if it might be an exaggerated rumor, but the fact that he had been bestowed the Red Night Sword, the beloved sword of Jin Mooseong, the Red Night Sword Sovereign, meant the rumors were not exaggerated at all.

And the second concern was his birth. — ‘Is that true?’ — ‘Yes, it’s information I received directly from the branch leader of the Chengdu branch.’ They had directly requested information about Cheongun’s birth from the Beggars’ Sect. Could he perhaps have ties to the Demonic Cult? Therefore, a thorough investigation into Cheongun’s identity was necessary.

However. — ‘…A beggar?’ According to what was relayed, Cheongun was a beggar. An orphan with no family. He didn’t even know how to use martial arts, and simply lived hand-to-mouth. At that level, let alone opportunities to learn martial arts or obtain elixirs, it would have been difficult just to extend his own lifespan.

If so, he must have self-taught martial arts and reached such a level in such a short time. How on earth was such a thing possible? At this level, he was not merely a martial talent, but a genius bestowed by heaven itself.

Thus, the Alliance Leader had personally come to such a meeting. He had no intention of reprimanding Cheongun for attacking the Bloodline Pavilion or the Blackwood Gate from the start. He was merely curious.

What kind of character the boy, who could virtually be confirmed as the next strongest in the world, possessed, and with what intentions he was expanding his forces. And what righteousness and chivalry he championed.

And the longer the conversation continued, the more the Alliance Leader was astonished. Not only was it surprising that he had let all those demons live, but that he would even impart heart techniques of the demon-subduing lineage to help them control their demonic nature! He was truly a person of heavenly will!

‘I think I understand why that fellow Jongdae handed him the moktak.’

Isn’t it said that fate is truly strange? This was the will of Buddha, and the principle of heaven and earth, so to comply was the right path.

The Alliance Leader had already taken a liking to him, ever since he showed mercy to the demons. And what’s more, the arm bends inward! [A proverb about favoring one’s own side.] To have a dharma-friend, connected through the teachings of Buddha with his only disciple…

The Alliance Leader had been very worried about sending his overly curious and naive disciple alone into Jianghu.

But if Jongdae could learn by this boy’s side, it would be a great enlightenment for him. This could be considered a fated connection, a serendipitous encounter.

Their gazes met again in the air. The Alliance Leader let out a hearty laugh. Cheongun also grinned. Was it said that they communicated through their Buddhist hearts? They laughed while looking at each other, and then once again bowed their heads and pressed their palms together in a respectful gesture.

“Namu Amida Buddha.” “Namu Amida Buddha.”

****

Cheongun was in a good mood. He had taken over Blackwood Gate, the Justice Alliance had departed, and he had received a rather substantial reward for letting the spy live with all his limbs intact.

However, a problem arose.

“You’re short on venom?”

“Yes, Pavilion Lord.”

The number of demons was steadily increasing. Among them, those showing promise had been given blood-worm venom until now. This was to activate their traits while making them subordinates.

However, once venom is ingested, it must be continuously consumed. The problem was that the ingredients used to prepare the venom were not easily obtainable just by having a lot of money.

Of course, one could somehow acquire them by paying a premium, but it would be a very unprofitable business. Until now, the Bloodline Pavilion Lord had been using the venom stashed away in the infirmary, but even that supply was now running out.

Just in case, he had also searched Blackwood Gate, but apparently the pavilion he had destroyed with his sword qi earlier happened to be their infirmary.

Just then, Hong Soyeon, who had been quietly observing, asked, “Isn’t the Dangga Branch Meeting opening soon?”

The Dangga Branch Meeting. The Sichuan Dang Clan was one of Jianghu’s foremost poison-using sects, holding a martial arts tournament once a year. This branch meeting was not merely a martial arts competition, but also a venue to showcase the weapons crafted by the Dang Clan.

But what kind of place was the Sichuan Dang Clan? Weren’t they the most renowned clan in the Central Plains when it came to handling poisons, hidden weapons, and iron?

Most importantly. “They say the winner gets access to their secret vault.”

The Sichuan Dang Clan’s secret vault was a storehouse where all sorts of rare treasures and precious artifacts were collected. Wasn’t the Sichuan Dang Clan the one that amassed the most wealth among all sects? Naturally, the Dang Clan’s secret vault had to be large. It was a place where all kinds of famous swords, secret martial arts manuals, and rare medicinal herbs lay scattered on the floor.

As Cheongun immediately prepared to leave, Hong Soyeon asked, dumbfounded, “Pavilion Lord, surely you’re not going to participate?”

“I am.”

“By what qualification will you enter?”

The Dangga Branch Meeting was a martial arts tournament hosted by the Sichuan Dang Clan. Naturally, one needed a certain status to participate, but how could Cheongun, a former beggar, possess such a thing?

However. “Who is my master?”

“…The Red Night Sword Sovereign?”

The Red Night Sword Sovereign, Jin Mooseong. He was a martial artist affiliated with the Orthodox Factions. Among them, he was one of the Ten Great Masters of the world, regarded as a one-man sect. And Cheongun was his disciple. In terms of status, this meant there weren’t many people in the Orthodox Factions higher than Cheongun.

Cheongun took only the scabbard at his waist and the fishing rod slung over his shoulder, and set off.

“I’ll be back.”

“…”