Chapter 421: The Price of Fame

Taeul Sect, near Hefei in Anhui Province.

No one had ever paid attention to this martial sect with its five-hundred-year heritage.

At best, the sect’s martial arts were barely at a level where one could scrape by doing something like(?) escort work — nowhere near enough to build wealth or influence. Such was the cruel reality of the current murim.

If it had been a restaurant with five hundred years of tradition instead, they could have at least made money through culinary secrets passed down through generations.

But Taeul Sect, with nothing left of its tradition save five-hundred-year-old foundation stones, had been clinging to its threadbare lifeline through a position among the One Hundred Eight Peaks — a position no one understood how they’d obtained.

And naturally, the people of the murim did not look kindly upon this state of affairs.

Countless individuals had tried to push Taeul Sect aside and seize their place, but for reasons unknown, the sect had managed to hold its spot for all five hundred years.

According to the murim’s gossipmongers, the logic was simple: even if you eliminated Taeul Sect and took their spot, the only reputation to be gained was having beaten Taeul Sect.

In short, thanks to the herd mentality of “I don’t want to clean this up myself, but I wish someone else would,” Taeul Sect had managed to defend its place among the One Hundred Eight Peaks for all those long years despite its feeble standing — or so people said.

“So basically, what you’re saying is they’ve been sucking the sweet life dry this whole time, right?”

At Kang Chae-seok’s vulgar phrasing, Jin Tae-san’s face scrunched into a fierce scowl.

“Watch your mouth! Do you really want to talk like that in front of the Hall Masters and Elders?!”

Kang Chae-seok’s face turned beet red at Jin Tae-san’s rebuke. He tried his best to refine the expression, but.

“……So basically, in short…… they’ve been comfortably suck—…… Damn it!”

He gave up mid-sentence and gulped down his tea in long, furious swigs.

But tea instead of liquor did nothing to quench his thirst.

While Kang Chae-seok lifted the teapot and refilled his cup again and again.

Hong Mun-gi asked Jin Tae-san.

“How is the Great Heaven Merchant Guild faring?”

“There hasn’t been any major damage yet, but we can clearly feel the pressure building little by little.”

The prices of goods they’d been receiving had suddenly risen, and payments kept getting pushed back.

These issues were paltry for now, but if they continued unchecked, it was certain that cash flow problems would eventually arise.

“Is there no chance this resolves on its own?”

Jin Tae-san shook his head.

“There’s been no drought, no natural disaster, no war. There’s simply no way all our trading partners would develop problems simultaneously out of nowhere.”

In the end, the only conclusion was that forces standing behind those trading partners were responsible.

Within the murim’s web of relationships — intricately interwoven like spider silk — one need only go through two connections to find either an enemy or a relative.

If anything, considering that Taeul Sect had walled itself off from the Righteous Path Association, the backlash had been slow in coming.

While everyone was lost in troubled thought.

“What if we take it by force?”

“!”

“!!”

“!!!”

The Sect Leader’s low voice seized command of the room.

“We should confront them head-on and take what’s ours, by force if necessary.”

At Hong Mun-gi’s words, the Hall Masters and Elders stared at him with wide eyes.

The Hong Mun-gi of before would never have handled things this way.

Quite the opposite — he had been second to none as a man who understood the way of the gentleman and lived his life practicing it.

And Hong Mun-gi told those people the reason for his change.

“Do you think it’s right for our children to go hungry because of thugs?”

“……!”

His transformation was surprising, but no one reacted negatively. Because that was the role of a leader.

Rather, they began to look at him with eyes full of faith, as if they found him reassuring.

“Even without resorting to direct shows of force, we can still apply pressure, can we not?”

Jin Tae-san shook his head.

“But isn’t that exactly what they want?”

“How so?”

“The Great Heaven Merchant Guild doesn’t have enough manpower to exert that kind of pressure. To employ Taeul Sect’s strength as well, we’d have to reopen the sect’s gates.”

“……”

Everyone knew that Taeul Sect stood behind the Great Heaven Merchant Guild.

Considering that parties more powerful than the Great Heaven Merchant Guild were the ones leading the charge in delaying payments, the intent behind it all was transparent.

If Taeul Sect remained idle even as payments were withheld, unrelated trading partners would also begin stiffing the Great Heaven Merchant Guild one by one. That much was certain.

“It won’t take even half the time it took to build the Great Heaven Merchant Guild for it to collapse.”

Even if the Great Heaven Merchant Guild disappeared, the mines would remain — but in the current situation, it was doubtful they could even get a fair price for the iron ore.

Moreover, the problems facing Taeul Sect didn’t end there.

“Hall Master Kang, how many have gathered outside?”

“As of last night’s count, it’s passed thirty.”

It had been less than four days since the number reached ten, yet the crowd had already tripled.

Their demands were all the same.

The opening of Taeul Sect’s gates.

And martial duels.

Starting with individuals connected to Diancang and Wudang, the number of people visiting Taeul Sect to build their own reputations was also growing.

After all, if one thought of the sect making the most noise in the current murim, Taeul Sect would come to mind first.

“……We’re paying dearly for our fame.”

They said that building a reputation was difficult, but maintaining it was even harder.

The current murim was demanding that Taeul Sect pay a price worthy of its fame.

“Sect Leader, the real problem isn’t the people standing outside Taeul Sect.”

At Jin Tae-san’s words, Hong Mun-gi’s brow creased slightly.

A problem bigger than this?

“According to Estate Master Wang, murim broadsheets denouncing Taeul Sect are circulating across the entire murim.”

“……Murim broadsheets?”

“Yes. Public outrage is growing over Taeul Sect maintaining its position among the One Hundred Eight Peaks and expanding its influence without shouldering the responsibilities that come with it.”

Not everything written in the broadsheets was true.

Taeul Sect was fulfilling the responsibilities that came with its position among the One Hundred Eight Peaks, and it refrained from external activities unless absolutely necessary.

This was a level of restraint distinct from other sects.

And yet the reason public anger toward Taeul Sect continued to grow.

Jealousy.

It was only natural that people would be sick with envy watching a sect like Taeul Sect — which had spent five hundred years floundering in obscurity — suddenly make a name for itself and expand its influence.

When someone who had been at the same level as you climbed to a higher cliff, the urge to grab their hem and pull them back down was simply human nature.

“Once that public anger gains a pretext, it won’t be individuals but entire sects that move against us. When that happens, regardless of what sparked it all, Taeul Sect won’t be left standing in one piece.”

“There’s no avoiding it.”

“But if we open our gates now, a horde of ravenous ghosts will come tearing at Taeul Sect.”

That moment comes for everyone.

The moment when you can neither stand your ground nor run.

If you run in that moment, you have to lay down everything you hold.

The same was true for a sect.

Hong Mun-gi closed his eyes for a long moment.

“I’d like to hear your opinions.”

He spoke with weight in his voice.

“Do you believe the time has come to open Taeul Sect’s gates?”

But no one.

Not a single person could easily answer his question.

Because they knew that no matter what they said, the responsibility would ultimately fall on Hong Mun-gi.

And that was why they couldn’t speak. Because it would be irresponsibly shifting that burden.

“……”

Hong Mun-gi smiled at the sight instead.

Nothing had changed after all.

Comfortable livelihoods, now that they were getting by well enough.

Martial arts that could stand beside any in the murim.

Even though their disciples had made names for themselves in the world and the way people looked at them had changed, they were still the people of Taeul Sect.

And he was no different.

“The reason I sit in this seat is not to enjoy the most of anything. It’s to bear the most responsibility.”

“……”

“So none of you need to feel sorry or guilty toward me. This is my duty, and offering your opinions is yours.”

When Hong Mun-gi went that far, one of the Hall Masters who had been reading the room tentatively raised a hand.

“I’m actually against opening the gates.”

“Why is that?”

“While the children are growing at an impressive rate, I wouldn’t say they’ve reached a level of maturity. If we open the gates, we won’t be able to refuse all the martial duel challenges that will pour in — and we clearly lack the number of expert-level practitioners needed to face them all.”

“You needn’t worry about that.”

“Pardon?”

The Hall Master asked again, uncomprehending.

Hong Mun-gi regarded him briefly, then answered without a moment’s hesitation.

“I’ll personally face every individual duel challenge.”

The Sect Leader himself facing every wanderer and lay disciple who came knocking?

This was absolutely unthinkable.

Just as the Hall Masters bristled and moved to object, Hong Mun-gi raised his hand first.

“Of course, if anyone lasts more than fifty seconds against me, I’ll allow someone else to step in on my behalf.”

“……!”

Kang Chae-seok, who had been listening in silence, turned scarlet.

“What are you saying?! The Sect Leader personally stepping up? What if you lose……?!”

“And if I lose?”

“Huh??”

Kang Chae-seok, who had been erupting with fury, froze in an instant.

In contrast, Hong Mun-gi’s voice remained perfectly calm.

“Does Taeul Sect vanish if I lose?”

“……That’s not the point. It’s about face……”

“Face?”

Hong Mun-gi let out a quiet scoff and continued.

“Does face feed us? Does face protect Taeul Sect?”

“……”

He turned his gaze to look at each person seated in the inner hall, one by one.

“I don’t wish to fight to announce my strength. Even if I lose — even if I’m defeated — I want to show them that Taeul Sect is by no means a sect to be trifled with. So what do victory and defeat matter?!”

At Hong Mun-gi’s resolute words, the Hall Masters were struck dumb.

Because there was not a single fault in what he said.

But even so, they couldn’t let Hong Mun-gi step forward himself.

Setting face aside, if the pillar of the sect put himself forward so readily, that would create its own set of problems.

Yet they couldn’t blindly oppose Hong Mun-gi either — not when he possessed such iron resolve and had by now firmly entered the ranks of the masters — so their gazes naturally drifted to the one person who could get through to him.

“Hmm……”

Jin Tae-san, sensing all eyes on him, fell into brief rumination.

‘How did things end up like this?’

The Hong Mun-gi he had known since childhood was a man who pursued peace and stability.

An easygoing fellow who always said “whatever makes everyone happy,” gentle as a Buddha.

Yet as if paying the price for all the magnanimity and consideration he had shown over the years, he had somehow transformed into a zealous warmonger.

It had even reached the point where people suspected that demonic Qi might have invaded his brain during the process of receiving martial training from Baek Hae-gwang.

At any rate, there was nothing wrong with what the now-militant Hong Mun-gi said, but if they recklessly opened the gates and tried to resolve every duel and conflict with brute force, Taeul Sect would be destroyed — that much was blindingly obvious.

But he lacked the confidence to cool the blazing passion of a Sect Leader who already looked like he’d been set ablaze.

More precisely, he had no solid grounds to oppose opening the gates.

The Great Heaven Merchant Guild truly was in danger.

The strain of trying to solve a complex problem in a short time was draining his energy fast.

And after a brief period of deliberation, he arrived at the right answer.

A method to douse the burning Sect Leader’s passion while buying some distance from the immediate problem.

“How about we ask first?”

“Ask? You mean Master Baek?”

“No. Not him.”

The tangled-problem specialist. No — the specialist in tangling up any problem, and the tangled problem personified.

“Jin So-un, that brat.”

“Hm?”

It was excruciatingly awkward for a father to refer to his own child as if he were a third party, but there was no other way.

The only person who could calm down the current Hong Mun-gi was that kid, Jin So-un.

“It was Jin So-un who suggested sealing the gates in the first place. If so, wouldn’t it be proper to at least ask him about the timing and method of reopening them?”

The Hall Masters shared his view, nodding their heads in vigorous agreement.

None of them wanted to see their Sect Leader at the front like an assault captain, cracking wanderers’ skulls.

Moreover, while it would be ideal to open the gates without having to fight, if fighting was unavoidable, they absolutely had to win.

“Hmm…… Won’t that take too long?”

“Do you have any idea how many couriers and messenger hawks run between Wuhan and Anhui? If you send it now, you’ll probably have Jin So-un’s reply by this very evening.”

“Ha ha, you and your jokes.”

At Jin Tae-san’s quip that lightened the mood, Hong Mun-gi smiled briefly.

A short deliberation.

The Hall Masters watched Hong Mun-gi with tense expressions.

“Let’s hear So-un’s opinion first.”

And when the answer they wanted came, everyone let out a long, heavy sigh.

“Whew. This is tough.”

Deciding to seal the gates hadn’t been easy, but opening them felt several times harder.

***

After returning to the Murim Alliance, I had to remain separated from my companions.

When I questioned why I was being treated this way, Jegal So-myeong, crotchety old man that he was, said:

“Be grateful I’m not throwing you in prison.”

The place I was escorted to was a small detached residence in the Murim Alliance’s outer complex.

It was thoroughly guarded, with two warriors stationed at the entrance.

Still, people are people, so I tried making a small request.

“We are tasked with monitoring you, Jin So-un. We cannot fulfill a request to bring alcohol.”

People can really be like that, tsk.

Leaving behind those men so dedicated to their duties, I headed to the small training ground within the detached residence.

If there was no liquor, there was only one way to clear a muddled head.

“Yong So-ah.”

My memory instantly placed Yong So-ah — vivid and unmistakable — at the center of the training ground.

Now that he was rendered before my eyes, a heat rose from somewhere deep inside.

“You think you’re so great? You think you know everything?”

I burst out in fury, then stopped myself — I couldn’t stand my own pathetic display.

“Whew.”

Then beside him, I conjured the Yong So-ah I had seen in the final moments of my previous life — the Taecheong Divine Sword.

Similar height, similar bearing.

An insufferable mug even in his old age.

His black hair had turned white and his face was carved with the marks of time, but the aura he exuded was beyond comparison with the young Yong So-ah.

The murim’s rising star, the undefeated master, an absolute existence.

A being of flawless perfection that seemed to belong in some cheap novel.

The Demonic Cult, which had emerged after five hundred years of preparation.

While every Orthodox Path sect was helplessly driven back before the Demonic Cult’s reaching grasp, Yong So-ah was the only one who held his ground and never once tasted defeat.

He had been, in the truest sense, the entire murim’s sole hope.

The brightest torch that shone alone even as the darkness of the Great Righteous-Demonic War fell upon the murim.

And now I was trying to unravel the secret behind that brightest torch’s power.

“This doesn’t make sense.”

Setting aside the fight at the Ten-Thousand-Poison Sect, what happened at the manor in Wuhan today defied all reason.

My own level was one thing, but the move I’d used had been a trump card prepared through countless sessions of Mind-Image Training since the battle at the Ten-Thousand-Poison Sect.

“There’s something.”

I raised my head and looked at the Taecheong Divine Sword.

The Demonic Cult, which had known the Shattering Forms of the Murim Alliance’s major sects, had mowed down the Alliance’s warriors as easily as cutting reeds.

Until Jegal Cheon-gi produced the Breaking Strike Forms in answer to the Demonic Cult’s Shattering Forms, the Murim Alliance had suffered defeat after defeat.

Yet the Taecheong Divine Sword alone had never lost. Not once.

No — when facing the Demonic Cult’s masters, there had not been a single occasion where he failed to take their heads.

A truly unbelievable, miraculous record.

“Back then, I thought it was simply because of his overwhelming skill.”

But the Jin So-un of today is no longer the fool who viewed the world through a narrow lens.

Of course, it isn’t that I refuse to acknowledge the gap in skill and insight.

Considering that Yong So-ah had perfectly comprehended the Taiji Fist before turning ten, a difference in ability between us certainly exists.

But if one is human.

If one is a being who walks upon the earth.

How could one be ‘perfect’ every single time?

You take wounds. You get struck by an unexpected final move.

A first-rate warrior dies to a third-rate thug’s blade, and assassins appear who hunt peak-level masters using nothing but the Ghost-Breathing Step.

“And yet you never once had that happen.”

I shifted my gaze from the Taecheong Divine Sword to the present-day Yong So-ah.

In my previous life, the Taecheong Divine Sword had been such a godlike figure that there was never an opportunity to observe his fighting and martial arts up close.

But now it’s different.

I already have three ‘memories’ of encounters with Yong So-ah.

The insufferable-faced, emotionless Yong So-ah drew his sword.

And spoke.

[Do you believe a human can memorize two hundred thousand formation paths?]

Yong So-ah at the Demon Spirit Plateau.

[I asked why you are alive.]

Yong So-ah at the Ten-Thousand-Poison Sect.

[You are an uncertainty. And that entails countless dangers.]

Yong So-ah at the Wuhan manor.

Each of them swung their swords.

Different places, different circumstances, but there was a common thread.

‘Fuck……’

It was that they were indescribably beautiful.

It wasn’t the kind of beauty that traced feminine allure in flowing curves like the Hundred Flowers Palace’s martial arts. And yet a single perfected achievement, a single perfected realization, produced a flawless beauty all on its own.

His opponents could only ever be villains.

Because no existence could stand beside his beauty.

Suppressing an inexplicable, stomach-churning emotion, I began replaying his martial arts from the beginning.

“……”

I rewound and watched again.

“……”

And again.

“……”

And again…….

“……What is this?”

The present-day Yong So-ah’s achievements are not at the level of the Taecheong Divine Sword from my previous life.

Which means—

It was only natural that I couldn’t reach him at the Demon Spirit Plateau.

But it doesn’t make sense that I couldn’t reach him at the Ten-Thousand-Poison Sect or the Wuhan manor.

I’m not saying I could have won.

I’m saying it doesn’t make sense that I couldn’t even inflict a serious wound on him.

Setting aside insight and enlightenment, my attainment in inner arts is no small thing either.

This isn’t something I can rationalize away with “he’s just a monster.”

This concerns my future, Taeul Sect’s future, and beyond that, the Murim Alliance’s future.

“What is it? Reveal your secret, Yong So-ah.”

I traced my memory and conjured the scenes from the past once more.

The moment I unleashed the Radiant Heaven Divine Palm at the Demon Spirit Plateau.

The moment I executed the Three Forms of the White Moon Governing Heaven — Extreme Swiftness at the Ten-Thousand-Poison Sect.

The moment the Great Heaven Sword Art was deployed at the Wuhan manor.

Pushing myself to the point where I could feel steam rising from my head, obsessively splitting and splitting the scenes further.

I saw it.

“Fuck……”

Just before my martial arts manifested.

He was already moving.

“What the hell is this?”

It was a sight I couldn’t believe despite it being my own memory.