Chapter 1139

As I listened to the account unfold, I found myself holding my breath again and again.

The Central Plains Murim—or rather, the whole realm—was coming together.

I’d known it was all but inevitable. Still, hearing it from the current Alliance Leader himself gave the news a different weight.

The sheer numbers had something to do with that, too.

A hundred thousand.

No fewer than a hundred thousand elite Imperial Guards were racing north along the Yellow River, swift as shafts of light.

Under the command of none other than the Son of Heaven.

Looks like that old man managed to stay alive after all.

I suddenly remembered the last time I’d seen the Son of Heaven.

His aged face belied his youth, and his complexion had been as pale as a sheet. The ruler of a vast continent had been on the brink of death. Before long, he surely would have died.

If not for the worn-out old book I’d given him as a parting gift.

White Illusion Jiangshi Art.

A secret art of the Maoshan Sect—and demonic martial arts that defied all common sense.

The more one practiced it, the more one became a jiangshi. It was no better than a poisoned Holy Grail, but the Son of Heaven seemed to have drunk from it willingly.

A Holy Grail was still a Holy Grail, after all.

Even in an age when the Three Bonds and Five Relationships¹ were alive and well, they meant nothing if you couldn’t breathe.

Especially when he had one blood relative who would have to shoulder all his burdens.

And the Son of Heaven wasn’t the only one with someone to protect.

“The Yangtze and the Yellow River are packed from bank to bank. Everyone’s coming here.”

Mae Jonghak hadn’t exaggerated when he said “everyone.”

The hundred thousand Imperial Guards led by the Son of Heaven were only part of the enormous force gathering.

From the great Murim sects to reclusive masters hidden deep in the mountains, all the way down to Third Rate swordsmen.

Once the blade at their throats—the Moving Formation—had been broken, they all smashed through the fence and poured out.

Countless ships covered the rivers, while galloping hooves shook the earth.

All for one goal.

To cool the heat raging in their hearts like molten lava.

“The sacrifices made by you and so many others are what made them rise up.”

Some who had cowered in fear must have felt ashamed. Others must have blamed themselves for not being there to fight alongside us.

Of course, people weren’t as righteous as they liked to think. Some might have taken up arms simply to make a name for themselves.

But their reasons didn’t matter.

At least now, we could come together as one.

That was why I could understand the position the Alliance Leader before me had been in.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

At my sudden words, Mae Jonghak, whose face had been stern the entire time, bit his lip.

“…My friend.”

“To be honest, yes. There were times when I thought we’d been abandoned.”

To catch a big fish, you needed bait.

This time, Xining had been the bait.

The kind so tempting that Dark Heaven couldn’t help but bite.

But the Murim Alliance hadn’t thought of us as mere bait or pawns to be discarded.

They’d drawn up an elaborate plan in the strictest secrecy. Though they’d been a step too late, they’d sent powerful reinforcements—and even uprooted the last lingering threat the Blood Lord had left behind.

“So please, don’t apologize.”

I met Mae Jonghak’s wavering gaze and added quietly,

“If only for the sake of those who are gone.”

“……!”

“They chose their path. They’d already accepted that they might die, and they fought with courage to match. More bravely than anyone.”

Mae Jonghak had no reason to apologize.

No. If he did, it would be no different from insulting the dead.

Jeong Hogun and a thousand Embroidered Uniform Guards. Countless martial artists and government troops. Even the common folk who’d taken up rusty axes and sickles to hold back the invaders.

Every one of them had been a hero.

So had those who, like Mae Jonghak before me, had struggled behind the scenes for this great victory.

That left us with only one goal.

“We have to repay this blood debt many times over. All of us, together.”

Everyone here knew who we had to collect that debt from. So did the whole realm.

The Lord of Heaven.

Or—

Asmodeus.

The supreme demon. The king of the Demon Realm.

The name of the being that had finally intruded into reality lingered on my tongue like a bitter poison.

And with it, the name of someone else bound to him.

Cheon Taemin.

No.

The Martial God.

Time flew by.

One day, thick snow fell as though it were the middle of winter. On another, wind and rain raged as if they meant to swallow the whole world.

Then, three days after I regained consciousness, a sight I’d never seen before appeared beyond the heat haze rising in the blazing sun.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The war drums of Xining City, silent for ten days, sounded their deep call. But not a trace of fear showed on the faces of the people crowding the walls.

Everyone in Xining simply watched, their hearts swelling.

East, west, south, and north.

Across winding hills and vast plains, and along the Yellow River, a wave of countless banners surged toward us.

“The enemy! The enemy’s here!”

“……”

Take that back about everyone.

Wherever you go, there’s always some lunatic who can’t read the room.

“Do you not hear me? Prepare for battle at once!”

Jeok Cheongang watched the Great Sir hopping up and down, then turned to me.

“Er, would you happen to…”

I felt his gaze on my cheek and cut him off before he could finish.

“No.”

“I haven’t said anything yet.”

“You were about to ask if you could kill him.”

“Hmm.”

“You can’t break his arms and legs, either.”

“Ah.”

“Just leave him alone. Best to leave a madman be. Besides, he’s a useful madman.”

“What good is he in battle if every time he opens his mouth, I feel like I’m about to suffer qi deviation?”

Honestly, I couldn’t disagree.

They said he’d darted all over the battlefield like Hong Gil-dong,² saving a great many of our people. But after the battle, he’d become plain old Gil-dung.

A pile of shit planted in the middle of the road, with everyone edging around it.

The one saving grace was that even ordinary people now knew the Great Sir wasn’t just any lunatic.

“That old man’s at it again…”

“Whew, I thought something serious had happened. When he shouted ‘enemy,’ I nearly had a heart attack.”

He was so well-known that even the people who’d jumped at the shout calmed down as soon as they saw him.

“But what happened to that Great Hero? He looked perfectly fine when he fought those Dark Heaven bastards.”

“Who knows? Maybe he fell off a cliff looking for a fortuitous encounter.”

“……”

I was listening to these commoners, who knew a suspicious amount about martial-arts clichés, when—

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

The pounding of hooves shook the earth, and an enormous cheer erupted, swallowing up the scattered murmurs in an instant.

“Waaah!”

At that moment, a wind blew in from far away. The banners caught it and billowed above the feverish crowd.

The fifteen pillars that upheld the realm’s Murim.

The Nine Sects and One Gang. The Five Great Families.

The overlords of the various provinces, the large and small Murim sects that followed them—and a name unfamiliar to some: Nanman Beast Palace.

Among all those names fluttering fiercely toward the sky, two banners rose higher and larger than the rest.

“The Murim Alliance…!”

The martial artists of Xining were moved at the sight of the banner that represented them. The government troops and commoners, meanwhile, stared wide-eyed at the presence of a man they’d thought they would never meet in their lives.

“T-The Emperor!”

“So the rumors that he’d lead a personal expedition were true!”

The brilliant golden dragon embroidered on his banner shone through even the thick heat haze. At the sight of it, people dropped to their knees and bowed low.

To the ruler of the Great Nation.

No, to the ruler of Great Ming—their father.

“What an uproar. A real uproar.”

Jeok Cheongang was right. The whole place had gone wild.

Some slammed their heads against the wall until they bled. Others wailed as though they were about to faint.

They weren’t even close enough to see his face yet, and this was how they were acting.

At this rate, you could call him North Korea’s three ruling Kims³—or an unlucky Lord of Heaven—and no one could argue.

“Come to think of it, he’s only one character away from the Lord of Heaven.”

Jeok Cheongang heard me mutter and spoke in a slightly uneasy voice.

“Keep your voice down. There are plenty of ears around.”

“That’s why I kept it down.”

“Lower.”

“Come on, this is fine. Since when have we worried about stuff like this?”

“No, you’re not wrong, but still, look around…”

“What did I do? You’ve always taught me, Master, to speak my mind—even if I’m dragged before Yama.”

“……!”

“What?”

Jeok Cheongang silently twitched his nose for a moment, then turned away.

Watching the procession rapidly draw nearer, he muttered as though to himself.

To himself, mind you.

“That sounds nice.”

“Huh?”

“But the more I hear it, the more I think ‘Master’ sounds a bit too stiff…”

“Are you talking to me?”

“Ah, what a nice day. A beautiful day, and my one and only disciple is so damn clueless…”

“Yeah. Really beautiful out.”

“……”

“What?”

Maybe I should stop teasing him before he got annoyed.

His nostrils were flaring now too, and I was just about to let out the snicker I’d been holding back when—

Grrrrumble.

With a heavy rumble, the bridge lowered across the moat.

At the same time, a dazzlingly white horse stepped forward.

Beneath the people’s cheers, joy and tears mingled together.

“Long live the Emperor! Long live Great Ming!”

The Son of Heaven.

At last, he had arrived.

The ruler of the continent, who could drive fans and haters—or rather, the common people—mad just by showing up.

But unlike some miserable bastard lurking beyond the desert, this ersatz Lord of Heaven was on our side. That was what mattered.

His baby brother, whom he doted on, was the president of my fan club, and the entire Imperial House owed me a very big debt.

“It’s been a long time, Marquis of Shangshan Jin Taekyung.”

He crossed the city gates and entered Xining at last. I stood there with my back impudently straight, and he smiled gently at me.

“No, I suppose I should call you Prince Shangshan now.”

“……?”

Mom. I’m a king now.