Chapter 1144

Was this what it felt like to have ice water dumped over your head?

I stood frozen by the last thing I’d expected to hear. Then I grabbed Hyuk Mujin by the shoulder as he grinned to himself.

“What do you mean by that?”

Whoosh.

As I spoke in a low voice, I sent a thread of internal energy into him. Focus returned to the eyes of the man who’d been swimming in drink.

“Y-yes?”

“Say it again. What you just said.”

The alcohol had already fled.

Facing my completely serious expression, Hyuk Mujin swallowed hard.

“What I just said? Which part… Ah, the time?”

“Yeah. This thing. Do you remember it?”

I took the pocket watch from around my neck and held it close to his face. He nodded hastily.

“Of course. That was probably when we were staying at the Imperial Palace…? I begged you for it like crazy because I wanted it so badly, but you said you’d think about it, Captain. Then you never brought it out again.”

Of course he remembered.

I’d made up some story about it being a valuable item from the Western Regions, and he’d pestered me for it practically every day after that.

“I’d pretty much given up when I heard you were giving it to Young Lady Ju. I didn’t know you still had it.”

That was when it happened.

Then, as he turned the pocket watch this way and that, still apparently fascinated by it, he finally said what I’d been waiting to hear.

“Still, no matter how valuable it is, what woman would want a broken watch as a gift? You should fix it before you give it to her.”

“…Fix it?”

“Huh? Am I wrong? The last time I saw it, this long hand here was—yeah, right about there.”

I followed his finger to the hour hand and felt my face stiffen.

“Captain? Did I do something wrong?”

“No. More importantly…”

“I’m sure of it. Why would I lie about something like this?”

“Right. You wouldn’t.”

That was the end of the conversation.

I muttered to myself and waved him away without another word. Hyuk Mujin understood the gesture and withdrew. Watching him go, I fell into thought.

Yeah. He’s right.

My gaze dropped to the pocket watch resting in my palm.

Why hadn’t I noticed it immediately?

There was no minute hand, as any ordinary watch would have, or even any numbers. But its one and only hand had moved a notch from its original position.

Not forward. Backward.

Unless it was designed from the start to move counterclockwise…

Had it gone around once—or several times—before stopping here?

And if so, what did that mean?

That old man definitely knew something.

The updated item information said the pocket watch held a secret, and The Helper had clearly known what it was. That must have been why he’d handed it to me as a gift.

But…

But how had he known something even I didn’t?

And how had a pocket watch buried deep in my Inventory for months found its way back to me like this?

“…No way.”

My heart suddenly began to pound, and my lips went dry.

Jeok Cheongang responded to the words that had escaped me, but my mind had gone blank except for the tangled thoughts I was struggling to unravel.

And finally—

“…!”

An unbelievable theory struck me like lightning.

Swift and decisive as the king’s blade that had cut through the Gordian knot no one else could untie.

That endless, infinite space.

The pocket watch that had begun to move without anyone knowing.

And The Helper—an old man whose identity was a mystery, yet whose martial prowess surpassed anyone I’d ever met.

Our meeting within my consciousness had been brief, but I’d felt his presence. It was like a colossal wall.

Not even the Three Saints, the greatest masters under Heaven, had made me feel anything so overwhelmingly terrifying.

And there was only one person who could stand above the Three Saints.

The Martial God.

I swallowed.

A shiver ran from the crown of my head to my toes as I recalled the theory I’d formed about him less than half a shichen¹ ago.

The System may have recognized Cheon Taemin’s unconscious state as a form of death.

If that was true—

And if, for some reason, his consciousness had been preserved in the System—

Then I’d already met Cheon Taemin. The Martial God.

In that infinite space where he’d been staying.

No—in the Inventory.

Good call.

The voice I’d heard long ago echoed in my ears like a hallucination.

Along with the meaningless noise that had sounded at the end of my nightmare three days ago.

Tick.

A chill unlike anything I’d ever felt climbed my spine. I stared at the pocket watch, my gaze distant.

I thought about what the dream I’d had that day meant.

Why The Helper—the old man I now suspected was Cheon Taemin—had reminded me of a pocket watch I’d nearly forgotten.

And I knew the only way to answer all these questions.

“I have something to tell you.”

After a long silence, my one sentence made Jeok Cheongang’s gaze sink deep.

The grand banquet, where everyone had drunk together to their hearts’ content, lasted only one night. But no one in Xining was sorry to see it end.

Blood was thicker than water, and stronger than wine. A few tubs of wine could never make them forget the blood already shed.

Not when they thought of the blood still to come.

“All preparations are complete.”

High atop the city wall, Sword Saint Mae Jonghak began in a calm voice.

Not a breath of wind stirred.

Beyond the wall, countless troops had gathered across the fields beneath scores—hundreds—of banners. Their eyes, bleary with drink the night before, now burned like torches.

“Since the dark clouds of Dark Heaven first loomed over us, the realm has been plunged into turmoil and filled with screams. We’ve shed more blood than any of us can count.”

It was true.

Dark Heaven had risen only a little over two years ago. Yet the blood shed in that short time rivaled what had been spilled during the Great Faction War, which had lasted more than a decade.

“We’ve seen with our own eyes and heard with our own ears what their vile schemes have wrought.”

The conflict in Shanxi had been only the beginning.

Shaolin Temple in Henan had burned, taking the life of the eminent monk known as the Dharma King.

Soon after, all of Sichuan was drenched in blood. Then came Hubei and distant Nanman.

The Imperial Capital, Hebei, and even Gansu had been invaded.

“And at last, the will of the entire realm has gathered here in Qinghai.”

His voice, carried endlessly outward by his powerful internal energy, brought tears to the eyes of everyone listening.

They knew.

They knew how much blood it had cost to bring them here.

And they knew how precious and meaningful the blood they would shed from now on would be.

“We will hesitate no longer. We will not retreat.”

Fervor spread through the crowd.

This was their will—the will of the realm.

“We will fight not for victory, but to protect.”

Families who’d been with them since birth had died. Friends who’d supported them through hard times had died. Neighbors who’d traded smiles with them whenever they met had died.

And anyone fortunate enough to have escaped such loss would soon face it too, unless they fought back.

Unless they brought down the Lord of Heaven and the dark clouds that threatened to swallow the realm.

This was a war to protect. A holy war to exterminate fiends without equal in all history—and a mandate from Heaven.

“So I ask you…”

Shing.

A snow-white blade emerged from its sword case.

A purple glow surrounded Mae Jonghak as a vast wave of aura burst from him.

No—at his side, everyone standing tall upon the wall unleashed the countless feelings and surging auras they’d held back.

Along with the Alliance Leader’s azure dragon’s roar, which swept across the dry skies of Qinghai.

“Who among you will retreat in the face of injustice?!”

At that instant—

Clang, clang, clang, clang!

The darkened fields flashed like the sun.

Countless swords and spears rose high enough to pierce the sky. The troops’ rumbling shouts and the force of their auras set the motionless banners flapping.

Yes.

At last, the wind was blowing.

A wind born in the Nine Provinces and Eight Directions swept in, bearing cold steel and the bloody scent of vengeance.

It rushed toward the cursed forbidden land beyond the distant desert.

Boom, boom, boom!

To the deepest, fiercest beat of war drums yet, an army of more than two hundred thousand advanced across the vast wilderness.

Murim.

No—the sight of a coalition unprecedented in the continent’s history marching as one was magnificent enough to send a shiver through everyone on the wall.

But one man’s eyes still trembled.

Damn it.

Jin Taekyung felt a weight settle in his chest.

This should be the end. Why did it feel like a beginning?

After countless hardships, the united blade of the realm was finally aimed at the Lord of Heaven. Why did he feel as though he were walking along the edge of a cliff?

Now’s my only chance.

Unease pressed against a corner of his mind like a massive boulder, along with questions he still couldn’t answer.

There was only one way to resolve them and move forward.

Master.

At Taekyung’s quiet Sound Transmission, Jeok Cheongang gave a small nod.

So you’ve decided to do it after all.

That was all, and it was enough.

Before dawn, Master and Disciple had shared a long, deep conversation. They had no secrets from each other.

“Go on.”

As his Disciple climbed into the carriage they’d prepared in advance, Jeok Cheongang smiled faintly and added, “This old man will be right here, waiting with everyone.”

His Disciple answered with a smile just like his Master’s.

“I’ll be back.”

And soon, the Disciple fell asleep.

A sleep so deep and vivid that he wouldn’t know it even if someone shook him awake.