Chapter 521

“Since it’s good to see you again, let me ask you something. Would you consider becoming Alliance Leader?”

“…?”

“…?”

If the captain of a group project announced he was quitting, of course the other members would panic.

Mae Jonghak’s question was so far beyond anything I’d expected that the Thunderbolt Saber King’s mouth fell open. The Azure Sky Sword King and Unnamed stared at him in disbelief.

What does being glad to see him have to do with that…?

And this guy is the Alliance Leader?

They didn’t say it aloud, but their faces did.

The last person there, Jeok Cheongang, looked astonishingly calm when he spoke.

“An ordinary person would be unable to continue speaking at a moment like this. But this old man is different. I have met an awful lot of crazy bastards lately.”

The moment our eyes met, I turned around.

By an incredible coincidence, there was nobody behind me. Nobody except a sparrow pecking at something on the ground.

Oh, I see. That must be why he’s looking this way.

“I didn’t know you liked birds. Sparrows are cute, though.”

“I’m looking at you.”

“Me? Why me all of a sudden?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Usually people ask because they don’t know. Why ask if they already do?”

“The way you’re flapping that mouth makes me want to bury you.”

That would be a problem.

I thought it over for a moment, then asked, not quite believing it myself, “This is just on the off chance—an extremely remote, one-in-a-million chance—but was I among the lunatics you mentioned?”

“Without question. Absolutely. Beyond the slightest doubt, your name is at the very top of the list.”

“…”

I’d come dead last a few times in school, but this was my first time coming first.

I’m so glad I finally managed it—yeah, right. What the hell?

Jeok Cheongang, of all people, calling me a lunatic. And I ranked above Cheongpung.

The psychological damage made my vision swim. I stared at Jeok Cheongang and opened my mouth.

“There’s this guy I know, Tess hyung.¹ He once said, ‘Know thyself.’”

“Was that directed at this old man?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

“You little son of a—”

His half-raised fist stopped. Sensing the stares gathering around us, Jeok Cheongang groaned and turned back to Mae Jonghak.

“In any case, I’ll give you a straight answer. No.”

“Ho. Why?”

“Too much trouble.”

What an answer. You’d think he might at least be tempted, but he’d turned down the Alliance Leader’s seat because he couldn’t be bothered.

“Ah. Can’t argue with that.”

“…”

That was even better.

Please don’t agree with him. Can’t you see people slowly gathering around us?

We’re screwed.

A dreadful thought crept up on me: if this conversation spread, the group project—the Murim Alliance—might fall apart.

Unfortunately, the two masterpieces facing each other were both shamelessly manly men who did not care about such things.

“A title like that doesn’t suit me, and I don’t like dealing with people.”

“Ah. Neither do I.”

“Then quit.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

Mae Jonghak scratched his chin and tossed out a simple answer.

“Because someone has to do it.”

“…!”

A man who had taken up a sword simply because he loved martial arts, then earned the name Sword Saint.

A true martial artist who, at the end of a brutal war, had turned his back on wealth and glory, chosen the life of a recluse, and returned to the mountains.

But before he was a martial artist, Mae Jonghak was a Great Hero. He hadn’t accepted the title of Alliance Leader out of some shallow desire for fame. He’d accepted it because he was both.

Someone has to do it.

The words were brief, but they carried weight. Jeok Cheongang gazed at Mae Jonghak, then let out a quiet laugh.

“Many years have passed, yet you haven’t changed. It feels as though we met at Mount Jiuhua only yesterday.”

Mae Jonghak’s eyes widened.

“Yesterday? What are you talking about? That happened at least several decades ago.”

“…”

“…”

Give me back my touching moment, you bastard.

I wasn’t the only one who felt cheated. Under a shower of cold looks, Mae Jonghak tilted his head.

“Am I remembering it wrong?”

All trace of laughter vanished from Jeok Cheongang’s face.

“…You really haven’t changed. I can feel my insides rotting.”

“Are you still unwell? I heard you had recovered fully from the poisoning.”

“Shut that mouth of yours. If you keep talking, I don’t know what this old man might do.”

“Come to think of it, Great Hero Jeok, you were the first person ever to say that to me. This is why I like you.”

“…Are you and that brat Cheongpung really just Master and Disciple? You’re not related by blood?”

That question deserved a place among Murim’s Seven Great Mysteries.

Everyone, myself included, was waiting for Mae Jonghak’s answer with pounding hearts when an elderly voice sounded behind us.

“As far as I know, the Alliance Leader and the Huashan Divine Dragon are not related by blood.”

I recognized the old man limping toward us on a prosthetic leg.

Thousand-Faced Fox Song Ho.

The former Chief of the Murim Alliance’s Hidden Shadow Pavilion, now restored to the same post in the New Murim Alliance, bowed slightly.

“Please come upstairs. Refreshments are ready.”

The Murim Alliance was crowded.

People with the character Alliance embroidered in silver thread on their chests moved about everywhere. They weren’t all armed martial artists, either. Quite a few wore neat scholars’ robes.

Those people…

Song Ho hadn’t won his post as Chief of the Hidden Shadow Pavilion in a game of Go-Stop.² Walking beside me, he seemed to read the question in my glance at once.

“They serve directly under the Alliance Leader’s Office.”

“They don’t look like they’re from the Nine Sects and One Gang or the Five Great Families.”

“Good eye. Because they serve directly under the Alliance Leader’s Office, we didn’t select anyone who belongs to another sect or whose identity hasn’t been thoroughly verified. We have to protect confidential information. This way.”

The Murim Alliance grounds were as vast as a plain and as complicated as a maze. Pavilions and other buildings stood packed together wherever I looked, and shouts rang out from a distant training ground.

When I first got off the carriage, I’d thought we were already in the Inner City. But the farther we went, the tighter security became and the fewer people I saw.

No. It’d be more accurate to say I couldn’t see them.

They could hold their breath and use the most advanced concealment techniques they liked. I could still sense them—on the walls, above the ceiling, hidden in the dark. I felt their gazes and their qi as they watched this place.

“I’ve been wondering for a while. Are those people from the Hidden Shadow Pavilion?”

Song Ho’s eyes widened slightly at the sudden question.

“When did you notice them?”

“When we passed the fifth door.”

“Can you still sense them?”

“Yes.”

“Remarkable. Truly remarkable. Those four were trained as assassins even within the Hidden Shadow Pavilion. To detect every one of them…”

I scratched my chin as he marveled.

“Do you really not know, or are you testing me?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“If it’s a test, it’s not much fun. There are five, not four.”

Ssss.

A torch hanging on the wall stirred, then went still. It was the only sign that the Hidden Shadow Pavilion agents concealed nearby had been shaken. Their leader’s gaze grew intent.

“I suspected as much. So it wasn’t a coincidence.”

“Actually, I guessed.”

“…”

“Kidding. Your people are all skilled. I nearly walked right past without noticing them.”

Something flashed in Song Ho’s eyes. Unlike when he’d been testing me, his admiration and curiosity now seemed genuine.

“Extraordinary. From the information I’d gathered, I thought I had a fairly accurate idea of your martial ability… Have you gained some new insight lately?”

Insight.

I thought of my ten days of training while drifting down the Yangtze and nodded.

The greatest thing I’d gained from the training Mungyeong prescribed was finer control over qi itself, the source of martial arts. Before, it had been like handling a thick rope. Now it was more like handling a spool of thread.

That had improved my understanding of how to use my internal energy, and my Qi Sense had sharpened along with it.

“Maybe a little.”

“Your rate of growth is frightening. Almost unbelievable.”

The Thunderbolt Saber King, who’d been glancing at me for some time, muttered, “It is… In all my years, I’ve never seen a monster like you. You’ll make a fine rival for my eldest grandson.”

“And your eldest grandson’s name is…?”

“Peng Dojin.”

“Pengdori?³ Sure, he’s a good starter Pokémon. Cute, too.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Peng Dojin! Peng Dojin! The one who gave you a close fight at the Star-Array Grand Banquet!”

Jeok Cheongang, who’d been swaggering along like a back-alley thug, kindly supplied the details.

“The one you beat like a dog for fifteen minutes until he surrendered. Was he thirty?”

“Oh, right. I remember now. By the end, he was using his saber as a cane.”

“Y-you…!”

“It’s all right. When you’re young, you get beaten here and there. You lose sometimes.”

Jeok Cheongang lit up like a child who’d received a Christmas present.

“Peng, it’ll be the same when he’s older, so don’t get your hopes up. Try as he might, he’ll only end up like his grandfather—unable to Return to Youth, growing old and dying.”

“You son of a—!”

“Ahem.”

No matter how I looked at it, the Azure Sky Sword King was the greatest victim here. He hadn’t said a word, yet the blows kept landing on him too. The skin beneath the old swordsman’s eyes twitched.

Mae Jonghak’s next remark finished him off.

“Don’t be so impatient, everyone. Keep at it and it’ll happen naturally.”

“…!”

“…!”

Was that supposed to be words or a fart?

If Returning to Youth happened naturally, half the martial artists in the world would’ve done it already.

The Thunderbolt Saber King and the Azure Sky Sword King fell silent, unable even to get angry at a remark Mae Jonghak had made without a trace of malice. Just then, the largest, tallest pavilion I’d seen in the Murim Alliance came into view.

“Please come inside.”

At first, I thought it must be where the Alliance Leader lived. I knew I was wrong before we even opened the door.

Tadadadak!

“A letter from Jiangsu!”

“What’s the Grade?”

“Earth Grade.”

“Organize the related matters and relay them. Have So Pyeong, Hwangso, and Jang Il-pal submit their reports within half an hour.”

Shff, shff, shff!

People hurried around the pavilion. Bamboo slips and documents traveled through a bewildering network of cylinders running throughout the building.

Thousand-Faced Fox Song Ho watched the entire chaotic scene carefully before opening his mouth.

“Hubei. Wudang. Heaven Grade.”

Someone in scholars’ robes heard the three brief words and pulled a ring.

A moment later—

Whoosh! Thunk!

A bamboo slip dropped through the cylinder beside us and unfurled.

“This is why we summoned you here. It is an urgent report that arrived from the Wudang Sect of Hubei five days ago.”

I didn’t hear a word he said.

I was staring at what was on the bamboo slip—not the writing, but the drawing.

The Water God Dragon… wasn’t the whole story.

Something unidentifiable had been drawn in black ink.

It was a monster unfamiliar to some, yet strangely familiar to others.