Chapter 425: The Price of Fame (5)

Ever since Jegal So-myeong had taken command of the Murim Alliance through the Mantongbu, what he had focused on most was the separation of factional backgrounds.

Wudang pulling Wudang, Shaolin pulling Shaolin, Mount Hua pulling Mount Hua.

It would not be an exaggeration to say he had spent all thirty years of his tenure trying to prevent them from rallying behind one another, forming blocs, and consolidating into power factions — all to build a centralized system with the Murim Alliance at its core.

After all, each Martial Pavilion within the Alliance being claimed by a single sect or faction was tantamount to the fragmentation and factionalization of the Murim Alliance itself.

Even so, the separation policy had its limits.

First, there was no way to block each individual’s desired career path.

Second, due to the fundamental disparity in numbers between factions, no matter how thoroughly they were separated, they inevitably coalesced again.

The Murim Alliance’s top combat forces — the Azure Dragon Pavilion, Red Dragon Pavilion, Red Phoenix Pavilion, and the like — had their backgrounds mixed to some degree, but the deep tint leaning toward one side could never be fully removed.

And for the numerous Martial Pavilions ranked below them, it was only natural that each would take on the distinct color of its dominant faction.

The product of all this was the Vermilion Bird Pavilion First Hall.

The quintessence of Clear Water True Man’s political acumen.

A place where only those from Wudang could enter and only those from Wudang could operate — it was effectively a Wudang branch office within the Murim Alliance.

Though only a hall-level unit, it boasted Martial Pavilion-level facilities, making it the place where the greatest number of Wudang disciples residing within the Alliance were concentrated.

As a joke, people had taken to calling it the “Wudang Pavilion,” but for Wudang’s own people, that name was practically a badge of pride.

And right now, that Wudang Pavilion was shrouded in a grim and somber atmosphere.

“……You may not enter.”

The suspicion for Dam Ak’s attempted assassination and the pursuit to silence him all pointed squarely at Wudang, hanging over their necks like a blade.

Even under normal circumstances, it was difficult to enter unless one had deep ties with Wudang, but the current atmosphere had turned even more insular — they were refusing all outsiders entirely.

And yet, an uninvited guest had come to Vermilion Bird Pavilion First Hall.

“So you’re saying I can’t go in?”

A person one could not dare refuse lightly.

“Did I not already explain? We are restricting all outsiders at this time.”

“I am a formally approved member of the Murim Alliance.”

“……No, that’s not what I—”

The most effective way to overpower someone arguing on principle was to use force or authority.

But the petite woman before them…… was not someone on whom such tactics would work.

Her family background aside, her own abilities were not something a mere gatekeeper could stand against. Even if that gatekeeper happened to be from Wudang.

“The thing is, the mood around here has been unsettled lately, and having outsiders come and go makes us uncomfortable. So if you could please go back……”

“Unsettled? Are ghosts coming out or something?!”

“No…… that’s not what I……”

All the more so when reasoning itself failed to reach the other party.

“Hah…… Understood. Please wait a moment.”

In the end, the gatekeeper relayed the situation inside.

Contrary to his expectation that the reply would be delayed, word came back quickly.

“You may enter.”

“Where is Yong So-ah?”

“I’ll show you the way.”

As they entered the building, all eyes turned toward the outsider.

Dang Seo-hui walked on with an unfazed gaze, as if those stares didn’t bother her in the slightest, while the gatekeeper continued his escort with a somewhat exasperated expression.

Following the corridor of the hall, they passed the communal training ground and soon reached a private training ground, at the center of which Yong So-ah stood with his sword drawn in a lofty stance.

“You may go.”

The gatekeeper bowed deeply and withdrew.

As Dang Seo-hui moved to approach, Yong So-ah shook his head lightly.

“I was in the middle of training. Wait a moment.”

“Is it alright to show me your training?”

“It’s not the first time, is it?”

Beginning with the Two Principles Sword, then the Three Powers Sword, the Five Phases Sword, the Seven Stars Sword, the Taecheong Sword, and onward — every martial art of the Wudang Sect unfolded from his hands.

The gaps between individual forms were seamless, and even the transitions between entirely different sword arts flowed as if water, one graceful sequence following the next.

“Ah……!”

Even Dang Seo-hui, normally so devoid of visible emotion, could not easily tear her eyes away from that feast of swordsmanship.

Pure white beauty.

An ecstasy that seized the gaze and would not let go.

When the Nine Palaces Linked Sword and the Dark Heaven Seven Stars Sword gave way to the Taiji Thirteen Stances—

“……”

Dang Seo-hui lost even the power of speech.

And just as the building crescendo reached its peak, at the moment one anticipated a grand finale—

WHOOSH—

The beautiful energies that had painted the training ground and the world vanished in an instant.

Click.

His beloved Whirlwind Sword slid into its sheath, and his white martial arts uniform rustled softly as he stepped toward Dang Seo-hui.

He hadn’t paused for a single moment through the entire sequence of sword arts, yet his breathing wasn’t the least bit disturbed.

“Why…… did you stop partway through?”

Dang Seo-hui furrowed her brow in displeasure.

She had been so engrossed she had forgotten even her candied fruit.

“Because it’s not yet ‘perfect.'”

Yet the man who had created that very ecstasy replied with utter composure.

That it was not his “best.”

“……When will it become ‘perfect’?”

To Dang Seo-hui’s question, Yong So-ah answered with his usual lack of emotion.

“It won’t take long. So what brings you here?”

“Are you asking because you don’t know?”

“When I ask a question, I ask because I truly don’t know.”

A lofty bearing without the slightest hint of hesitation.

Like a great white tree so imposing that not even the wind was permitted — not a single leaf stirring.

Dang Seo-hui looked up at the man who was familiar yet could never be truly familiar.

“Why did you submit my application to the Azure Dragon Pavilion?”

“……”

Yong So-ah gazed down with impassive eyes at Dang Seo-hui, her cheeks puffed out.

“I had to submit mine anyway, so I submitted yours together to avoid doing the same errand twice. Is there a problem?”

“I’m asking why you acted on your own without consulting my wishes.”

“Because you were going to the Azure Dragon Pavilion anyway.”

“Did you ‘see’ that too?”

“……”

A rare silence settled over Yong So-ah.

One of Dang Seo-hui’s eyebrows twitched as she studied his expression.

“You couldn’t see it?”

“……”

He did not answer her pressing question.

He merely gazed down at the small Dang Seo-hui with quiet eyes.

Dang Seo-hui deliberately stirred a small breeze.

“I heard you allowed Jin So-un a single sword strike.”

“……It was uncertain.”

A single leaf on the white tree rustled gently.

One corner of Dang Seo-hui’s lips crept upward.

A peculiar smile — the muscles around her eyes didn’t move at all.

“You couldn’t see it?”

The gaze of Yong So-ah, who always maintained his stoic composure, sharpened — a rare occurrence.

“No human can counter uncertainty. I’m included in that.”

“Is that so?”

“……”

In the sudden gust, the leaves of the white tree had begun to sway in silent clamor before anyone noticed.

“In any case, I won’t be going to the Azure Dragon Pavilion. Consider that settled, and dispose of the application yourself.”

“You intend to abandon the great cause?”

“Who can avoid that task? Can it even be abandoned just because one chooses to abandon it?”

“……”

“I want to place my hopes on a different possibility as well.”

For some reason, Dang Seo-hui’s face seemed to hold the faintest trace of a smile.

She turned on her heel and left the training ground.

Watching her retreating figure, Yong So-ah stood alone in the empty training ground, quietly turning his thoughts over.

He didn’t need her to explain what she meant by “a different possibility.”

‘Jin So-un.’

A person who, since their first encounter at the Demon Spirit Plateau, had lodged himself in Yong So-ah’s mind — a rare feat.

During the Murim Academy Regular Exam, Yong So-ah had even extended his hand to him, but Jin So-un had made an irrational choice and slapped that hand away.

And he had continued to defy his predictions ever since.

“What exactly are you?”

Jin So-un conjured before his eyes sneered irritatingly and made a declaration as if he had personally witnessed it.

[There’s nothing but despair in the future of the Murim Alliance you lead.]

For a curse about an uncertain future, it was delivered with far too much confidence.

He was clearly a man with a talent for deception, just as the rumors said.

“Groundless nonsense, as expected. Jin So-un.”

In time, he erased the unimportant words from his mind.

“Because the future I create is the only hope there is.”

***

A full-blown purge began at the Murim Alliance.

Starting with personnel involved in the Hall of Repose affair, every person connected to the pursuit and attempted silencing of Dam Ak was dismissed and sent packing.

On top of that, though it was not made public, the Wudang Sect personnel involved in the incident at a certain manor in Wuhan were also dismissed en masse and sent back to Wudang Mountain.

For a while, the Murim Alliance grounds were swarming with escort agencies hauling moving crates.

The mass dismissal of Captain-level personnel meant those in the ranks below received promotions, each moving up one level.

Considering that advancing in rank normally took an extraordinarily long time, there was no shortage of people viewing the current reshuffling as a heaven-sent opportunity.

However, the White Wolf Pavilion, which had nothing to do with any of this, saw no personnel changes.

As a result, the White Wolf Pavilion members — watching fellow graduates from the Murim Academy get promoted ahead of them — directed their curses at the wrong person.

“It’s all because of that damn Unit Leader bastard!”

“Do you know how much difference one rank makes in monthly stipend?!”

“Jin So-un, wake the hell up!”

Their curses reached my ears, but I didn’t bother responding.

“Who told you to apply to the White Wolf Pavilion?”

“Please, Senior Brother, never say that in front of people…… There could be serious trouble.”

Eun-ho said this with an inexplicably drained expression, but it didn’t really hit home.

They applied of their own accord, so why blame someone else? Life’s all about taking responsibility for your own choices.

In any case, I didn’t have time to march over to the White Wolf Pavilion and beat up the ones badmouthing me.

I’ve been frantically busy over the past several days.

First off, my adrift affiliation was finally settled.

Meteor Hall.

This place with its absurdly flamboyant name — a rootless entity I’d never heard of or seen — had become my assignment.

“I don’t recall a place called Meteor Hall ever existing. Where the hell was it attached to?”

“It was newly created this time. Under direct Mantongbu command, an independent department.”

Direct Mantongbu command and independent?

“So that’s why I was appointed Hall Master.”

The rank was Hall Master, no less.

Of course, given my track record and abilities, it was a fitting position, but such a meteoric rise still warranted suspicion.

“Didn’t the Righteous Path Association or the Orthodox Path Association raise any objections?”

“Where would the Righteous Path Association find the time for that right now? And……”

Eun-ho faltered for a moment, then swallowed the rest of his words.

“Never mind. Knowing now wouldn’t do any good anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s not like you’ll be reporting for duty right away anyway.”

That was directly connected to this second matter.

The date for Taeul Sect’s Gate-Opening Ceremony had been set.

Taeul Sect had written asking how to handle the current situation, and believing the time had come, I conveyed my stance on opening the gates.

The Great Heaven Merchant Guild had already expanded its reach to the point where every advantage that could be gained from sealing the gates had been secured.

To expand further from here, opening the gates was unavoidable.

And now was the best possible time to reopen Taeul Sect’s gates.

A few days after I sent the letter.

Taeul Sect finally decided to open the gates.

As a result, my junior brothers and I had filed for leave and were preparing to return to Hefei for the first time in a while.

“Lady Namgung Seon-hwa, Lady Seong Mo-ran, and the people here are all people I know. But why are these ones saying they’re coming?”

While reviewing the guest list for the ceremony to arrange carriages, I found myself tilting my head at the names of fellow graduates I wasn’t even particularly close with.

“Well, they probably want to celebrate.”

“It’s a gate-opening, not a founding ceremony. What’s there to celebrate?”

“Maybe they’re worried there won’t be enough guests?”

“They’ll just show up and waste food.”

Eun-ho snatched the list right out of my hands.

“I’ll handle this. So now tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“What you received from the Alliance Leader.”

Sharp as ever when it came to picking up on things.

“Received what? Don’t you know this whole thing was supposed to be quietly swept under the rug?”

“Oh, please! As if the great Senior Brother would just let something go!”

What was with this insolent, disrespectful attitude?

Was he itching for a private training session?

“Ah, my apologies. What you said was so absurd I couldn’t help myself.”

Rather than being dumbfounded by his rapid about-face, what left me speechless was the utter impossibility of gauging what kind of image of me resided deep inside that head of his.

“Fine, I received something.”

“Really?! What did you receive? The Gold Treasury? The Silver Treasury?”

“Since when were you interested in this kind of thing?”

“Brother Geum-pyo got the Diamond Shield, and Dong-ryong got the Black Dragon Sword! And I’m still using a cheap iron sword!”

I’d thought his interest in martial arts had waned since he’d steered his career toward the Mantongbu.

Apparently not.

“What I received this time isn’t anything like that.”

Eun-ho couldn’t hide his inner disappointment.

Just wait till he finds out later.

I patted him on the shoulder.

“I’ll get you a weapon to use soon enough, so sit tight.”

Securing Jang Do-won, the craftsman who forged divine weapons, had been the easy part.

Trying to procure the materials was breaking my back. Literally breaking it.

“Really?!”

“Yeah.”

Eun-ho’s face lit up instantly, and the persistent fellow pressed on again.

“I’ll be looking forward to it. But then, what did you receive?”

Where’s the fun in telling him ahead of time?

“You’ll find out at the Gate-Opening Ceremony.”

“At the ceremony?”

I said nothing more, just flashed him a wide grin.

Because the looks on the faces of everyone attending the Gate-Opening Ceremony — not just Eun-ho’s — were going to be absolutely priceless.