Chapter 318

“It’s astringent.”

The old man muttered as he savored his Tieguanyin tea.

His shoulders were broad enough to belie his age, and his snow-white beard hung down to his navel, giving him the appearance of an immortal.

He certainly would have looked the part if not for the old sword resting against his side.

“I-I’m sorry, Senior. I haven’t reached my father’s level yet…”

“It’s a shame, but what can be done? When the owner changes, it’s only natural for the tea’s flavor to change as well. You may go.”

The owner of the teahouse, who had been bowing repeatedly, vanished as though he had been waiting only for those words.

The old man watched him disappear into the distance, then gently stroked the teacup.

“We three martial brothers used to stop by this place from time to time. That was more than thirty years ago. Your Master wasn’t the Sect Leader back then, either.”

“I see.”

Hyuk Sopyung answered from across the table.

He had kept his mouth shut for more than half an hour while the old man performed his tea ceremony, and his voice was cracked like a drought-stricken rice paddy.

“Would you like to savor a cup?”

The old man’s gentle voice contained not the slightest hint of coercion.

But when the old man in front of him offered something, it had to be accepted. Hyuk Sopyung knew that, as did the thirty members of the Taeeul Sword Unit stationed throughout the teahouse.

“I would be honored, Senior Martial Uncle.”

The old man picked up the jade-colored teaware containing the tea and tilted it over the empty cup Hyuk Sopyung had respectfully held out.

Trickle.

The tea began to fill the cup slowly.

At the same time, Hyuk Sopyung’s expression changed drastically.

“…”

“What is it?”

“I… It’s nothing.”

Contrary to his words, Hyuk Sopyung’s condition was anything but normal. His hand trembled, and his face had flushed red as if it might burst at any moment.

It was only tea, yet every drop that struck the cup bore down on Hyuk Sopyung with terrifying pressure.

What the hell…?

It was an enormous amount of internal energy. An overwhelming force that even Hyuk Sopyung, the Zhongnan Sect’s greatest prodigy, could not withstand despite receiving every elixir available without restraint.

He drew up all the internal energy in his body and poured it into the teacup, but he reached his limit almost immediately.

Tap. Crack.

The moment the last drop fell, a hairline crack spread across the cup in Hyuk Sopyung’s hand, and tea spilled over the rim.

That was when the old man’s gaze sank deeply.

He was Hwangbo Eom, the Taeeul Merciless Sword.

“How old are you this year?”

“I have reached thirty.”

“When was the last time you saw this old man?”

“Ten years ago.”

“Yes, that’s right. It was at the Huashan–Zhongnan gathering. Right there.”

The Huashan–Zhongnan gathering. Or the Zhongnan–Huashan gathering.

Huashan and Zhongnan—the dragon and tiger crouched in Shaanxi Province—held a gathering once every ten years where their young prodigies competed against one another.

Officially, it was meant to promote exchange and friendship through duels. But no one was ignorant of the fact that it was a competition between the two sects.

“I remember now. I watched with my own eyes as you were toyed with by that bastard Baek Museong.”

“…”

Hyuk Sopyung’s eyelids trembled.

How could he forget? That defeat. And the merciless gaze of The First Sword of Zhongnan, who had sought him out the moment he returned to the main sect.

“At your age, this old man had already mastered eight-tenths of the Taeeul Divine Technique. What about you?”

“…I apologize.”

“Ten years is enough time for mountains and rivers to change. Yet you’re still standing in the same place.”

That applies to you too, Senior Martial Uncle.

Hyuk Sopyung fought desperately to hold back the words rising in his throat.

Surely you haven’t forgotten. Everything you did to me that day.

Talent without effort could never bloom.

Hyuk Sopyung had loved martial arts. That was why he had been called the Zhongnan Sect’s greatest prodigy. He loved martial arts and swung his sword until his palms bled, sweating blood in the process.

The reason he had slowly fallen apart was not simply that he had been defeated by Huashan’s Lone Crane, Baek Museong, in front of everyone.

“I already know that you’re disgracing the name of our sect. I hear you’ve made quite a name for yourself in Xi’an.”

“Senior Martial Uncle…”

“This old man is speaking. Can’t you shut your mouth?”

Hwangbo Eom’s previously emotionless voice had now become colder than a thousand-year snowstorm.

“Watching you all has been like witnessing some kind of farce. From the highest ranks to the lowest, every one of you has been splashing mud onto the Zhongnan Sect’s signboard.”

The top referred to the Roaring Fury Swordsman, Song Il, while the bottom referred to Hyuk Sopyung.

Even though his only Senior Brother was laid up with an Internal Injury, Hwangbo Eom continued to spew venom at him. Hyuk Sopyung and the disciples of the Taeeul Sword Unit realized once again that the two words in his epithet—

Taeeul Merciless Sword.

The mercilessness was not reserved for his enemies.

“Your Master, who led the Zhongnan Sect into this state, is just as pathetic. How could our Master have handed the position of Sect Leader to such a man…?”

That was when Hyuk Sopyung’s tightly pressed lips finally parted.

“Your words go too far.”

“What did you say?”

Whoosh.

A gust of wind swept across Hyuk Sopyung’s entire body.

No—it was not wind.

It was a powerful aura flowing from the Taeeul Merciless Sword, the Supreme Peak master produced by Zhongnan.

“Your ears must have grown hard with age. Say that again.”

But Hyuk Sopyung did not yield, even beneath the suffocating pressure.

“Your words… ngh. Go too far.”

Though the Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord had never shown him any warmth or affection, he was still Hyuk Sopyung’s one and only Master. And besides—

“He is the Sect Leader of the Great Zhongnan Sect. You are also a Disciple of the Zhongnan Sect, just like this junior. Show proper respect to the Sect Leader.”

“Respect for the Sect Leader?”

A sharp glint flashed through Hwangbo Eom’s eyes.

There had been a time when he was the one closest to ascending to the position of Zhongnan Sect Leader.

He had had a Senior Brother and Junior Brother under the same Master, but neither had been his rival. Neither of them could match his martial prowess or his ruthlessness.

The Sect Leader of the Zhongnan Sect should have been Hwangbo Eom. It was only natural.

“And what could a nobody like you possibly know to dare—?”

Hwangbo Eom was about to roar when he abruptly closed his mouth.

He had noticed Hyuk Sopyung’s unwavering gaze. He had also sensed the strange current flowing among the Zhongnan disciples of the Taeeul Sword Unit.

These bastards.

Hwangbo Eom’s gaze turned cold. At the same time, the powerful aura pouring from his body slowly subsided.

His lips moved beneath his snow-white beard.

“The Sect Leader of the Great Zhongnan Sect…”

Hwangbo Eom lifted the teacup, which was not even half empty, and drained it cleanly. Deep furrows formed between his wrinkled brows.

“It’s still astringent. The owner has changed, so the flavor and fragrance aren’t what they used to be.”

“…”

“The Great Zhongnan Sect? What a laughable thing to say. Zhongnan today is nothing more than a castle in the air. While you were lost in despair and wasting your days on drinking, women, and gambling, this old man was working to restore our sect.”

“What does that mean…?”

Confusion entered Hyuk Sopyung’s voice.

Hadn’t Hwangbo Eom shut himself away at the main sect? Even when his Senior Brother, the Roaring Fury Swordsman, returned with a serious Internal Injury, he had not shown his face even once.

Then how…?

Hyuk Sopyung’s thoughts were interrupted.

A group of people had just entered the teahouse.

At the front was a young woman whose mere appearance seemed to brighten her surroundings.

“I am Ju Hwaran, Young Bureau Head of the Yongbong Escort Bureau. I pay my respects to Great Hero Hwangbo, the Taeeul Merciless Sword.”

Ju Hwaran, the Dagger Hidden Flower.

At her bold greeting, the corners of Hwangbo Eom’s mouth lifted.

“Good. Did you safely bring the item I requested?”

He stroked his thick beard, his eyes flashing with an unreadable light.

“By the way, who’s the Taeeul Merciless Sword?”

Speed Beggar answered gruffly.

“Who do you think the Taeeul Merciless Sword is? He’s the Taeeul Merciless Sword.”

“Gibang. Don’t you wonder which is stronger—the five-tenths Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms or the seven-tenths Flame Divine Palm?”

“…”

“The Taeeul Merciless Sword, Hwangbo Eom. He’s the Junior Brother of the Roaring Fury Swordsman, Song Il, and the Senior Brother of the current Zhongnan Sect Leader, the Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord.”

As expected, he was a walking encyclopedia of the Murim. I hadn’t brought him along for moments like this, but he was useful in more ways than one.

Aside from the smell.

I muttered inwardly as I continued walking.

We were on our way to a teahouse called Tengwang Pavilion. Gung Gibang, who had been walking beside me, muttered with clear displeasure.

“I’ve been thinking about this, and I don’t think it’s a good choice.”

“Why?”

“The matter is bigger than I expected. And it isn’t just anyone—it’s the Taeeul Merciless Sword. The Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord is at least someone you can talk to, but that man…”

Gung Gibang couldn’t finish his sentence and shook his head repeatedly.

“Why? How bad can he be? Have you actually met him?”

“I saw him right beside my Master exactly once. And I thought to myself that he was someone I never wanted to meet again.”

Judging by Gung Gibang’s reaction, his first impression must have been spectacularly unpleasant.

He shuddered with a disgusted expression, then gave me a sidelong glance.

“You don’t even need to ask me. Neighbors know what goes on next door.”

At the end of Gung Gibang’s gaze was Baek Museong, who had been walking silently without saying a word.

His face, which usually wore a calm smile, had long since hardened like stone.

Okay. I get the picture.

The Taeeul Merciless Sword.

As you experience the Murim, you come to notice several interesting things. One of them is martial epithets.

A person’s epithet contains a part of who they are. It can tell you what weapon they primarily use—or what kind of personality they have.

In the case of Hwangbo Eom, the Taeeul Merciless Sword, it was both.

Merciless. Just those two words tell me more or less what I need to know.

I’d bet Hyuk Mujin’s wrist that he wasn’t some genial, chuckling neighborhood grandpa. If that wasn’t enough, I’d bet his ankle too.

That was when Gung Gibang spoke in an anxious voice.

“It’s not too late even now.”

“Hm? For what?”

“Interfering in matters between sects is likely to cause trouble. Even more so when the other party is the Taeeul Merciless Sword of the Zhongnan Sect.”

“So?”

“What do you mean, ‘so’? I’m saying we should stop fooling around and go to Sichuan!”

I blinked innocently.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Huh?”

“What meddling? We’re just going to have some tea. Right, Young Hero Cheong?”

Cheongpung, who had been chewing on the candied sweets I bought to keep him quiet, answered enthusiastically.

“Yes! We’re going to have tea!”

Gung Gibang stared at Cheongpung with an incredulous expression.

“Didn’t you say earlier that you’d already tried it?”

“Uh-huh. That was…”

No wonder his answer had sounded evasive.

Cheongpung had already polished off the sweets in the blink of an eye. He licked his fingers and looked back and forth between Gung Gibang and me.

His eyes dripped with longing as they swept across a street stall overflowing with snacks.

“Young Hero Cheong, you haven’t had tea before, have you?”

As I spoke, I spread my palm and waved it over Gung Gibang’s shoulder. Five more candied sweets were added to Cheongpung’s share, and he nodded excitedly.

“That’s right! I’ve never had tea before! My butt is itching to get to the teahouse!”

“That’s what he says.”

Gung Gibang, his will to fight completely gone, tore at his matted hair.

“Damn it. If Master beats me with the Dog-Beating Staff later, I’m telling him it’s all your fault.”

“Go ahead. Our Master is the Fire King.”

“You miserable bastard. You’re lower than a dog.”

“Stop whining and let’s go. What about you, Mujin? Are you dissatisfied too?”

Hyuk Mujin asked with a hopeful look.

“Am I allowed to say so?”

“Go ahead. If you want to die.”

“…”

“All right. We’re almost there.”

The old signboard bearing the name Tengwang Pavilion gradually came into view.

I walked straight ahead until I finally stopped in front of the teahouse door.

Well, this is no joke.

The Taeeul Merciless Sword. The greatest swordsman Zhongnan was proud of. The aura of a Supreme Peak master could be felt beyond the door, along with the presence of dozens of people carrying considerable qi.

The pack frame on my shoulders suddenly felt heavier.

“Old Master, don’t worry. No matter what happens, I’ll protect you.”

“Nothing will happen,” I muttered softly, then threw open the door.