Chapter 230

Luoyang, the thousand-year-old capital.

This historic city, whose legacy stretched back thousands of years, was one of the foremost centers of commerce, literature, and art under heaven.

Even in the vast province of Henan, Luoyang was unrivaled in size, so wherever one went, the streets were always packed with people.

The same was true of a small inn on the outskirts of Luoyang.

“Two bowls of huimian noodles!¹”

“Yes, yes! Coming right up!”

“Three more bottles of baijiu!”

“Right away!”

Merchants who had just finished a long journey clinked their cups from midday onward. A group of scholars engaged in heated debate. Even singers in shabby clothes whose circumstances looked anything but prosperous.

And then there were the people who could never be absent, no matter where one went.

Martial artists.

Crash!

The inn’s door exploded into splinters, and five or six swordsmen poured inside.

The one-eyed man leading them shouted without hesitation.

“Get them!”

His shout was directed toward a secluded corner of the inn.

A group of fierce-looking men had been guzzling strong liquor from a large jar. They overturned their table and rose to their feet.

“Damn it, the Dongcheon Sect?”

“Kill them!”

Clang! Clang-clang!

With a cacophony of noise, more than a dozen martial artists drew their weapons and clashed.

Blades tangled and broke apart, throwing sparks into the air. Tables split, and the odds and ends on them went flying in every direction.

“R-run!”

“It’s the Dongcheon Sect! The dark-path factions are fighting!”

The Murim was not made up solely of righteous heroes.

The orthodox faction, the unorthodox faction, and dark-path figures coexisted, while several thousand li away² stood the Demonic Cult, filled with fiends and monsters.

Among them, the Dongcheon Sect was a dark-path faction that ruled Luoyang’s nights.

“…I’m ruined!”

The innkeeper, who had been cheerfully taking orders, collapsed onto the floor.

The Dongcheon Sect was not just some common gang of ruffians. Despite being a dark-path faction, it had a deep-rooted history stretching back more than fifty years and strong connections within the government.

If he reported this incident for no reason, they would tear him to pieces.

Please, just don’t let anyone die.

The innkeeper’s desperate wish collapsed the very next moment.

Slash!

“Grrrk.”

With a chilling sound, one of the men clutched his throat and fell.

He was one of the dark-path swordsmen who had recently gotten into a minor dispute with the Dongcheon Sect.

“Gungsu!”

“You goddamn bastards!”

The swordsmen, driven mad by their comrade’s death, charged at the enemy with their weapons raised.

But in a fight between evenly matched dark-path swordsmen, nothing mattered more than numbers.

“One of them’s down!”

“Beat the rest to death!”

The Dongcheon Sect’s swordsmen were experienced and ruthless. They struck at every opening, stabbing and cutting without mercy. Blood sprayed every time their blades flashed.

Swish-swish-swish! Thud!

“Gaaaaah!”

“Guh!”

“P-please, spare me!”

At the last survivor’s plea, the one-eyed man burst into laughter. He was a lower-ranking officer of the Dongcheon Sect.

“What? Spare you?”

“Please, just this once. If you let me off, I’ll never—”

“You should’ve known who you were messing with.”

Thunk!

A dagger shot from his sleeve and buried itself in the last swordsman’s forehead.

“Gueugh.”

Thump!

With a grotesque groan, the corpse toppled backward like a rotten old tree.

“You’ve got no pride at all. And you call yourself a dark-path man.”

The one-eyed man retrieved the dagger from the corpse’s forehead and crooked a finger at his underlings.

“Clean this up.”

“Yes, sir!”

With a vigorous reply, the swordsmen gathered the bodies and piled them together. The peaceful inn had long since become a sea of blood.

Step. Step. Tap.

Blocking the wrecked entrance, the one-eyed man swept his gaze over the terrified innkeeper and guests.

“Some of you know who I am, and some of you don’t. So I’ll trouble myself to tell you again.”

In the suffocating silence, everyone froze beneath the cold, murderous gleam in his eyes.

His harsh voice continued, as though he had swallowed iron filings.

“I am the lone beast of the mighty Dongcheon Gang, Heukgeol³—”

Smack! Boom!

Startled by what had happened so suddenly, the people inside the inn blinked.

The lone beast of the Dongcheon Gang, Heukgeol, who had been blocking the entrance like Mount Tai, was nowhere to be seen. In his place stood a short old man.

“You rotten son of a bitch. What are you doing blocking the entrance?”

“…”

An invisible tremor swept through the inn.

Only then did the guests notice Heukgeol embedded in one of the walls. Their eyes widened.

Gasp!

A martial artist!

He’s a master. An incredibly powerful one!

While everyone was still reeling in shock, a young man who had entered behind the old man spoke with an incredulous expression.

“Still, was it really necessary to beat him like that? What if he dies?”

“Who cares whether some dark-path piece of garbage lives or dies?”

The old man answered gruffly and jerked his chin toward the inn, which had become a sea of blood.

More precisely, he was pointing at the Dongcheon Sect’s swordsmen, who were gathering the corpses and severed limbs.

They stared at the old man with vacant expressions.

“See? Can’t you tell? That’s the kind of people they are. There’s nothing in their heads, so whenever they meet, all they can do is swing their swords at each other.”

“Wow. They really deserve to die.”

“Right?”

“Yes. Shall we eat now?”

“Order the drinks first. I’ve inhaled so much dust that my throat’s scratchy.”

“Got it.”

The young man answered brightly and hurried over to the innkeeper.

“You have rooms, right?”

“Y-yes?”

The innkeeper, who was only half-conscious, answered automatically.

“Of course, sir.”

“Then give us the best room you have, and three bottles of baijiu. As for the food…”

The old man, who had already claimed a table, shouted from behind the young man.

“Crisp-roasted duck and huimian! You have to eat huimian when you come to Luoyang.”

“Sir, you heard him, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How much will that all be?”

That was why habits were so frightening.

The innkeeper instinctively finished calculating the entire bill and was just about to name the price when—

“You crazy bastard!”

“Fuck! Get him!”

They were not called dark-path figures for nothing.

They were mayfly lives, born in the back alleys and dying in the back alleys.

Armed with their innate simplicity and ferocity, the Dongcheon Sect’s low-ranking swordsmen rolled their eyes back and charged at the young man.

“Die!”

The bald man at the front let out a thunderous shout and swung a rough-looking broad-bladed saber.

Its blade, red with rust, came down toward the crown of the young man’s head.

Or rather, that was what it was about to do.

Whoosh! Thud!

With a chilling sound, the bald man’s body crumpled. His jaw had been shattered, and he was already unconscious.

The sword slipped from his limp hand.

Clunk. Clatter.

“I thought hair was the only thing you were missing. Turns out you’re useless at fighting, too.”

The young man muttered without much interest and turned back to the innkeeper.

“So how much did you say?”

“…”

“…”

The atmosphere inside the inn, which had already been frozen solid, became even more rigid.

As countless people watched with their eyes bulging, the young man paid the bill and even collected his change.

He was walking toward the table where the old man sat when he suddenly stopped.

“Hey.”

The Dongcheon Sect’s swordsmen, who had been frozen like statues beneath his gaze, flinched.

“Yes, sir?”

“Were you talking to us?”

The young man nodded.

“Yeah. What are you going to do?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“That thing in your hand. If you’re planning to swing it, swing it quickly. Otherwise, put it away. It’s ugly.”

Shk-shk-shk!

The swordsmen sheathed their weapons with lightning speed.

“Now collect the bodies and your friends. Move.”

“Yes, sir! Moving!”

“Since you’re at it, clean up the mess you made, too.”

With the call-and-response of men fighting for their lives, the swordsmen moved in perfect order.

They removed the corpses, the bald man, and finally the one-eyed man embedded in the wall. Then they swallowed nervously and waited for their next order.

“Why are you standing there gawking? Get the hell out.”

“Th-thank you!”

That was precisely the one thing they had been praying to hear.

Afraid they might be stopped, they hurried out of the inn. Words like arrows followed them from behind.

“If you show your faces here one more time, you die. Remember that.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Yeah, take care.”

A suffocating silence filled the inn.

As the young man walked toward the old man’s table beneath the horrified gazes of everyone present, he suddenly drew in a sharp breath.

“Gasp!”

Had the Dongcheon Sect attacked again?

The people who had been watching his every move were startled as well and looked around.

But the young man’s gaze was fixed on only one thing: the roast duck that had appeared on the table.

“H-how could you?”

His eyes were wide, and his pupils trembled as though an earthquake had struck.

After a brief silence, the young man suddenly shouted,

“How could you eat both legs by yourself?!”

“…”

Seven days and nights.

That was how long it had taken to get from Taiyuan to Luoyang.

Even riding a horse at full speed would have taken ten days to cover that distance, so there was no point explaining what the journey had been like.

The most important fact was that I had not complained even once.

But still…

“This isn’t right!”

I was genuinely furious.

He had eaten both legs! And after I’d finally gotten a proper meal for the first time in a week!

He had even left me with only one wing.

“Even dark-path bastards don’t do this!”

I continued shoving whatever food I could grab into my mouth while venting my outrage. Across from me, Jeok Cheongang looked utterly dumbfounded.

“Look at this ill-mannered brat. You’re shouting at this old man over something so trivial? What? Dark-path figures?”

“Am I wrong? Even the Demonic Cult Leader would eat only one duck leg.”

“You little—”

Whoosh!

A gentle heat began to rise from Jeok Cheongang’s palm when a gruff voice suddenly cut in.

“Hey, let me ask you something.”

A hulking man entered the inn with heavy footsteps. His face was covered entirely in scars.

Behind him came dozens of dark-path swordsmen with equally menacing faces.

His face alone is rated 18+.

The one-eyed man Jeok Cheongang had dealt with earlier could be considered fierce-looking in his own right, but compared to this giant, he looked like a model prisoner.

Does everyone around here make a living off their faces?

Well, at least it made them easy to identify.

Jeok Cheongang did not even bother looking at them, so I answered in his place.

“Yeah, that’s us.”

“I heard some very interesting news, but…”

Confusion passed over the giant’s face.

“What?”

“You haven’t even asked yet.”

“It’s obvious. The interesting news you heard was probably that some old man and a fresh-faced young guy showed up and beat a bunch of your lackeys half to death. Something like that, right?”

“…”

“Yeah, I know. Come on in. And bring the friends you brought along, just in case. They can all attack at once.”

The result had been entirely predictable.

Whether the men I had let go had called them, or someone among the onlookers had informed their gang, it did not really matter.

I can just beat them down as they come.

The difference in strength was overwhelming.

If they were at this level, the result would be the same whether ten or a hundred of them came rushing in. There was no need to kill them. I could simply brush them away like flies.

“Not coming? Then I’ll come to you.”

“You little bastard!”

Still, the man who had come this time had some sense.

Perhaps sensing something ominous, the giant subtly backed away and waved his hand.

“Get him!”

Schliing.

The moment dozens of weapons began to emerge from their sheaths—

“Amitabha, m-may we pass through for a moment?”