A middle-aged man, thoroughly drunk, suddenly raised one hand.
“Innkeeper, bring me a bottle of strong liquor!”
“Roast duck, too!”
“Would you look at these petty-minded fools. We’re on the verge of a momentous event—the founding of the Murim Alliance—and you want strong liquor and roast duck? We’ve come to Henan, so we should at least drink Dukang wine1!”
“Oh, we’d love that, but aren’t you pushing yourself too far?”
“It’s fine. We’re splitting the bill anyway.”
“…You’ve lost your mind. Make it strong liquor.”
The inn on the main road near Mount Song was packed. Most of the people inside were Murim practitioners, of course.
From wandering martial artists who still looked like greenhorns to old veterans who had roamed the martial world for ten years—or even several decades.
The people gathered there differed in purpose, age, and gender.
Wherever people gathered, conflict was bound to follow. Especially when the people in question were drunk Murim practitioners.
“Wait. You’re…!”
“Oh-ho. Aren’t you the Senior Disciple of the Xiao He Gate? Still missing that finger?”
“You bastard! You came looking for a place to die!”
The world might be vast, but enemies had a way of meeting even on a single-plank bridge.
When people bound by tangled webs of gratitude and grudges happened to meet, blades were sure to come out.
Clang! Slash!
Sharp weapons swung, and blood sprayed through the air. The fierce exchange sent the surrounding Murim practitioners into an uproar.
“Waaah!”
“It’s a fight!”
“One silver nyang2 on the Senior Disciple of the Xiao He Gate!”
“Then I’ll bet two nyang2 on the Long Serpent Saber!”
They said nothing was more entertaining than watching someone else’s house burn or watching someone else fight.
The very few people with no connection to Murim backed away with horrified expressions. But the Murim practitioners, who were crazy about fighting regardless of whether it involved the orthodox, unorthodox, or Demonic Path, shouted and applauded without hesitation.
Amid the chaos, almost no one noticed the middle-aged man who had just come through the inn’s old door.
Clang! Bang!
Waaah!
The fight was raging in the middle of the inn, but he did not spare it a glance. He flicked a silver nyang2 toward the innkeeper.
“Two bottles of strong liquor and one roast duck. Bring them to a seat with a good view outside. Oh, and roast the duck until it’s crisp.”
“Great Hero…”
“Hm?”
The innkeeper bowed to him.
“I’m sorry, but there aren’t any suitable seats available right now.”
“There aren’t?”
“No, Great Hero. As you can see, so many heroes of Murim have come to visit…”
The middle-aged man looked around, then glanced up. Several faces were peering down from above the stairs.
“There seem to be seats up there.”
“Ah, I’m terribly sorry, but there are other guests on that floor—”
“That one looks good.”
“W-wait a moment, Great Hero! Great Hero!”
The middle-aged man ignored the innkeeper’s desperate cries.
He strode up the stairs, ignoring the sharp gazes that poured down on him, and muttered,
“Much better. Quiet, too.”
The inn’s second floor was reserved for people of higher status.
It was only about twenty steps above the first floor, but unlike the noisy chaos below, a serious atmosphere hung over the second floor. Nor were the people seated at its tables anything like Third Rate martial artists.
“G-Great Hero! You can’t go up there!”
At the innkeeper’s cry from behind him, the low conversations stopped.
A graying middle-aged man seated at the table closest to the stairs frowned and spoke.
“What’s all this noise?”
“I-I’m sorry, Great Hero. This gentleman seems to have mistaken where he was going—”
“Send him downstairs. And quiet the first floor while you’re at it.”
“Yes, sir.”
But the middle-aged man was already headed elsewhere.
“That seat by the window looks good.”
“Gasp, Great Hero!”
The one who stepped forward in place of the horrified innkeeper was the graying middle-aged man from before.
“Stop.”
The middle-aged man slowly turned.
“Was that directed at me?”
“Who else would I be speaking to?”
“You?”
“You look a great deal younger than I am, so don’t cause unnecessary trouble. Go back downstairs.”
The graying man added with an air of dignity, “Since you don’t seem to know much about the martial world, I’ll tell you who I am. I’m of the Fang Family. In the martial world, I’m known as Moon Beauty Saber.”
“Oh.”
“Now that you know, stop making a scene and go downstairs quietly.”
The middle-aged man blinked a few times.
“What you just said—was it really true?”
Moon Beauty Saber gave a short laugh.
Who was he? He was a top-tier wandering martial artist who had long since reached the level of injuring others with Sword Energy.
He was on an entirely different level from wandering martial artists like Blood Cudgel, who strutted around despite being merely at the early Peak realm.
“Heh heh. Why would I lie? Then again, I suppose it’s understandable that you don’t believe me. You probably never expected to meet me in a place like this.”
“No, not that. I meant, do I really look that way?”
“…?”
What was this man talking about?
Moon Beauty Saber stared at him blankly, then frowned.
“What do you mean? I don’t understand you at all.”
“You said I looked young. That was certainly true, wasn’t it?”
“…!”
“Hm. That’s rather nice to hear. Good. I understand.”
Before Moon Beauty Saber could reply, the middle-aged man laughed heartily and pointed toward the window.
“Don’t mind me. Keep drinking. I happen to know someone.”
“Why, you bastard…”
“Great Hero!”
Moon Beauty Saber and the innkeeper spoke at once. Then the old man drinking alone by the window suddenly cut in.
“I was feeling lonely drinking by myself, so this is perfect. Come, sit.”
“…!”
“…!”
The innkeeper and Moon Beauty Saber both fell silent.
The innkeeper could hardly object when the guest himself had invited the man over. Moon Beauty Saber hesitated for a different reason. Something about the old man’s manner had been bothering him since earlier.
He looks like a wealthy old man, but there’s something unusual about him… How does he know that ignorant fool?
Moon Beauty Saber wanted to teach the middle-aged man a lesson right then and there, but he couldn’t shake his unease.
Whether he knew what Moon Beauty Saber was thinking or not, the middle-aged man dropped into the seat across from the old man and immediately tilted back a bottle.
“Ah, that’s good. Is this Yeoahong3?”
The old man nodded.
“The innkeeper said it had been aged at least twenty years.”
“Good wine. But strong liquor is still the best there is. The innkeeper will bring some soon. You should try it.”
“I’ll pass. I don’t usually drink much.”
“What a shame. Why are you here alone, then?”
“It’s nothing. I simply thought I would try burying myself among other people after such a long time.”
The old man suddenly turned his head and gazed out the window.
For a while, he watched the people passing through the street and listened to the bustle outside. Then he said, “Now that I’m here, being alone like this isn’t so bad.”
“You don’t seem to have come alone.”
“I have children and grandchildren, of course. Just as you have a Disciple.”
“I do have one fellow, though I’m not sure whether he’s my Disciple or my enemy. How did you know?”
“How could I not? I even saw him myself.”
Clack.
The middle-aged man set down the bottle. Liquor had spilled from the corner of his mouth, dampening his beard. Perhaps because of the soft light, the beard looked unusually red.
“Damn it. I knew it. But that brat kept insisting to the very end that he’d never met you.”
“You certainly raised your Disciple well, Fire King.”
The middle-aged man wiped his beard with his sleeve, then stared at the old man.
“My Disciple caused you trouble last time. So I came to see you myself, Azure Sky Sword King.”
The old man—no, the Grand Family Head of the Namgung Family and one of the Ten Kings, the Azure Sky Sword King—smiled faintly.
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“I knew you, of all people, would recognize this old man.”
“I almost didn’t. Returned to Youth… You were worth waiting for.”
“It’s late, but may I keep the promise I made back then?”
“I’ve waited a very long time to hear you say that.”
Joy filled the Azure Sky Sword King’s eyes.
More than twenty years ago, in exchange for entrusting one person’s life to Jeok Cheongang, he had been promised a duel.
At last, his long wait was over.
“What a shame. The strong liquor will be here soon.”
“Let whoever’s left standing drink it.”
“And your sword? Will you be all right without one?”
“My sword?”
The Azure Sky Sword King picked up the two chopsticks laid neatly on the table.
“These will do.”
Jeok Cheongang gave a short laugh and looked out the window.
“The sky is blue, and you have a sword in your hand.”
“The sun is up as well. Perfect timing.”
Whoooosh.
Wind swept through the room. Invisible waves of qi surged from the two men and spread in every direction.
And before anyone in the inn could notice, the two supreme masters struck at each other.
KABOOM!
Bang! Bang! KABOOM!
“Good Lord.”
What in tarnation is that?
I gaped at the scene in the distance beyond the window.
And it wasn’t just the successive booms or the black smoke rising into the sky.
Unnamed, who realized it a moment after I did, spoke with a hardened expression.
“Did you feel it too, Benefactor?”
I gave a small nod.
Even at this distance, I could feel waves of qi reaching us. This is a clash between at least Supreme Peak masters.
“If something like this has happened, then it must be…”
“Amitabha4. Yes. It appears Dark Heaven is attacking.”
“Those Dark Heaven sons of bitches!”
“Though we took every precaution, this has happened again. Given that, this humble monk will have no choice but to break the precept against killing and go all out against them.”
“I’ll join you. Breaking the no-killing precept against Dark Heaven is a hobby of mine.”
And it seemed I wasn’t the only one with that hobby.
Ding. Diiing!
“Dark Heaven! Dark Heaven is attacking!”
“Kill them and uphold justice!”
“Beat those wicked fiends to death!”
Alarm bells rang out, and the Murim practitioners on the main road rushed toward the disturbance like a pack of dogs.
The sight made my blood boil.
Ah, so this is the Murim Crusade.
Our side is fucking strong. And there are a hell of a lot of us.
Until now, I had suffered every kind of hell against Dark Heaven because of our numerical disadvantage—or simply because of the gap in strength.
I could almost cry.
I can’t sit this one out.
“Follow me! Follow me!”
I leaped out the window and stood tall. The people who spotted me widened their eyes.
“The Blazing Flame Divine Dragon!”
“It’s the Blazing Flame Divine Dragon of the Jin Family of Taiyuan!”
“Ooooooh!”
Believe it or not, I was a pretty big name in Murim.
Living proof that even a cramped backwater like Shanxi Province could produce a dragon! A young icon of the orthodox faction!
“Waaah!”
“Let’s go! Let’s sweep Dark Heaven away!”
“The Blazing Flame Divine Dragon is with us!”
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
The Murim practitioners charged forward with renewed courage, shouting as they ran.
Unnamed and I were at the very front, of course.
“Fuck! Wreck ’em all!”
I poured my internal energy into the shout, and the roar around me swelled.
With this many Murim practitioners at my side, I was sure we could beat the hell out of anyone.
“It’s a holy war!”
“Great Hero Jin says it’s a holy war!”
“Kill those demons!”
“Amitabhaaa4!”
You Dark Heaven bastards! Stay right there! I’m bringing the Murim Crusade to you, and I’m going to bash your heads in. Your heads…
“Ah.”
My brain suddenly stopped working.
A single person was walking out from inside a building burning horribly.
“What the hell are you all doing?”
“…”
The fiend was on our side.
Footnotes
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Dukang is a traditional Chinese liquor named for Du Kang, a legendary figure associated with winemaking. It is particularly associated with Henan. ↩
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A nyang is a traditional unit used for silver currency; it is not Korean won. ↩ ↩2 ↩3
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Yeoahong is a traditional Chinese rice wine. Its name means “Daughter’s Red.” ↩
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Amitabha is the Buddha of Infinite Light. Saying his name is a Buddhist invocation. ↩ ↩2
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