Chapter 541

Henan was a land with a long and storied history.

It was home to sprawling thousand-year-old capitals such as Kaifeng and Luoyang, cities that had served as the seats of numerous dynasties. It also offered breathtaking natural scenery and all sorts of famous landmarks, including four great mountains.

Visitors came year-round. Naturally, there were plenty of inns, pleasure houses, and other places for entertainment and lodging.

But the old innkeeper, whose family had run the same inn for three generations, could confidently say this street had never been so crowded.

What in the world…?

He stared around in bewilderment at a veritable sea of people.

“Hey, wait a minute! Don’t try to cut in line!”

“Who keeps shoving me?”

“You little pup. You’ve been giving me insolent looks for a while now. Do I have to show you a coffin before you come to your senses?”

“What did you say? I was willing to let it go, but this lowly wandering martial artist is—”

“Heh heh. Everyone’s certainly full of energy. It’s a pleasant sight.”

“Pleasant? It’s been so noisy that I can hardly stand it.”

A wandering martial artist who looked like a wild wolf and a man who appeared to be the scion of a prestigious family glared at each other.

The sight made a half-gray-haired middle-aged man burst into hearty laughter, while a beautiful woman whose age was impossible to guess clicked her tongue.

Countless others stood farther away, watching and whispering among themselves.

What on earth is going on here?

In the middle of the chaos, just as the innkeeper felt his soul halfway leaving his body, a voice reached his ears.

“There’s no need to worry so much.”

“Pardon?”

“Not over there. This way.”

The innkeeper turned again in surprise. An old man sat at a table, leisurely sipping from a wine cup while everyone else waited in line.

“They have their own reasons for being here. There won’t be any serious trouble.”

He was small, with an unruly white beard and a face flushed red with drink.

For a moment, the innkeeper wondered if he might be a martial artist. But he looked for all the world like an ordinary old drunk. The innkeeper gave him a discreet glance, then lowered his voice.

“W-What in the world is going on?”

“They’re all people who want to begin their era of success. You must have heard that song, too. ‘Join the Murim Alliance’s Two Dragons Pavilion, and—’”

The old man began humming a lively tune.

The innkeeper’s shoulders instinctively began to sway. Then his eyes widened.

“Ah. Are you talking about that… Two Dragons Pavilion?”

“You got it. The young Pavilion Master of that Two Dragons Pavilion is staying right here.”

“Good heavens.”

The innkeeper let out a short gasp.

He had known that the person staying in the detached building was a young knight-errant famous throughout the martial world. But he had never imagined that he was the Pavilion Master of the Two Dragons Pavilion everyone was talking about.

“So that’s why so many martial artists have come here. But even so, I never imagined there would be this many…”

“Heh heh. Isn’t it a fine opportunity? It’s rare to find a place that doesn’t care about your background, gender, or age.”

“That’s true. I heard even an eighty-year-old can apply.”

The old man answered quietly.

“As it happens, that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

“Hahaha! You certainly know how to make a joke.”

“Does that sound like a joke?”

“Pardon?”

“I asked whether that sounded like a joke.”

The innkeeper’s laughter stopped. He stared at the old man, his eyes trembling.

“Th-Then, old man—I mean, sir—you’re applying too?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

The old man wiped his wine-soaked beard with his sleeve. As his robe shifted, a worn scabbard showed beneath it.

“I’m a martial artist too. Like them. Unlike you.”

“Gasp.”

“There’s no need to be so frightened. This old man doesn’t lay a hand on commoners.”

He paused to consider something, then added softly, “Most of the time.”

“……!”

Not a trace of drunkenness remained in his gentle voice, and for an instant, his eyes held the ferocity of a wild beast.

The innkeeper felt a chill and took an involuntary step back. Just then, someone began coming down the stairs.

Step. Step.

The old man’s eyes flashed.

“Is it about to begin?”

He was not the only one who thought so. The dozens of Peak masters waiting in line and the spectators who seemed to outnumber them ten to one all fell silent.

Someone appeared on the stairs.

“How many people have come—whoa! You startled me.”

The young man, Hyuk Mujin, jumped in surprise. A flicker of disappointment crossed the faces of those watching.

But the Peak masters, who had sensed his aura long before he appeared, merely muttered calmly.

“He’s not the Blazing Flame Divine Dragon.”

“He sent a messenger down in his place. Is he already throwing his weight around?”

“He’s impressive for a messenger. With that kind of aura at his age, he’s better than most second-generation Disciples from prestigious sects.”

“I agree. And if it’s the Blazing Flame Divine Dragon, I suppose he can send someone in his place.”

Hyuk Mujin looked sourly at the enormous crowd murmuring around him and cleared his throat.

“Ahem. The Captain—I mean, the Pavilion Master—has ordered me to begin the interviews. I’ll call you by name, one at a time. Please follow me when your turn comes.”

Reaching the Peak realm meant being recognized as a master anywhere in Murim. The Peak masters all took pride in their abilities, and they were plainly unhappy to be told to wait again. But none complained.

A thirsty man had to dig his own well. Having come here, they had to put up with it.

“I understand perfectly well, so stop spouting nonsense and call the names already.”

Hyuk Mujin’s eyes widened at the rough-looking middle-aged wandering martial artist.

“Oh. It’s true.”

“What is?”

“Ah, it’s nothing. The Pavilion Master told me to reject anyone who uses informal speech and acts rudely the first time they meet someone, no exceptions. I didn’t expect to find someone so quickly.”

“……What?”

“Let’s see. You’re Great Hero No Guisan, the Black Blood Saber, correct? You may go home now.”

The Black Blood Saber blinked at him in silence, then roared.

“What kind of bullshit rule is that?”

Hyuk Mujin pulled a bamboo slip bearing the man’s personal details from the purse at his waist and nodded.

“It’s right here. That kind of rule.”

“I waited an entire shichen¹!”

“Oh dear. That’s unfortunate.”

“You insolent little bastard! You think you can act this arrogantly because your master’s behind you? Do you really think you’ll be safe after this?”

“I think I’ll probably be fine.”

“You little—!”

“If you keep this up, our Pavilion Master will come down himself and say, ‘You bastard!’”

What kind of person was this?

The Black Blood Saber and everyone watching stood with their mouths open.

The Black Blood Saber was a formidable fighter, renowned even among the rough-and-tumble wandering martial artists. People said that if not for his foul temper, he could become the Sect Leader of a school that very day and build it into a mid-level sect.

Yet Hyuk Mujin did not so much as blink before the aura he released.

“You’re rejected. Off you go.”

For Hyuk Mujin, who had followed Jin Taekyung around and suffered every kind of hell, his composure was only natural. It left even the foul-tempered Black Blood Saber speechless.

That was when—

“Ha! Hahaha!”

Rumble!

A booming laugh erupted from somewhere. The air burst outward, and the ground trembled in tiny shudders.

The Peak masters went rigid as they sensed the source of the overwhelming aura pressing down on them.

What incredible internal energy…!

One level above me. No—two levels.

What in the world…?

Every horrified gaze turned toward the old man who had been leisurely sipping his wine moments earlier. He was slowly rising from his seat.

“Don’t make such a commotion. Don’t you feel sorry for the innkeeper?”

He smiled gently at the innkeeper, who lay facedown and trembling. Someone in the crowd cried out, almost screaming.

“O-Old Man Ilyang!”

Old Man Ilyang. Those three words were enough.

He was a master who stood between the orthodox and unorthodox paths and had once dominated an era. His was the sobriquet of a monster who had burned countless opponents to death with his mighty Scorching Yang Qi.

The sudden appearance of a Supreme Peak master froze the entire gathering.

Is that truly Old Man Ilyang?

Th-That old monster… What is he doing here?

No one present could compare to him. It was doubtful they could bring him down even if they all attacked together.

Only one wall separated Peak from Supreme Peak. The distance across it was vast.

Step. Step.

Old Man Ilyang walked leisurely through the silence, then looked at Hyuk Mujin and smiled.

“Go and tell him this old man wishes to meet him.”

“……!”

Another ripple of shock passed through the crowd.

Old Man Ilyang, of all people, wanted to join the Two Dragons Pavilion under a Pavilion Master barely more than a boy. That alone was astonishing. Yet he had made his request so courteously.

“U-Understood. Please wait a moment.”

Hyuk Mujin turned away, flustered. He did not see the ominous heat in Old Man Ilyang’s eyes.

The Fire Gate Clan. The Fire Gate Clan, huh? Heh heh. At long last, an opportunity has come even to this old man.

Blazing Flame Divine Dragon Jin Taekyung? Whether the rumors about him were true did not matter.

He was still a brat barely past twenty. At Old Man Ilyang’s age, he had no intention whatsoever of respectfully serving such a fledgling as his superior. But…

The Fire Gate Clan’s divine technique, passed down to only one person each generation. I will make it mine, whatever it takes.

He had spent his life pursuing strength, yet had never reached the pinnacle of Scorching Yang Qi.

With the Fire Gate Clan’s martial arts, he could. He could even claim the title of greatest under heaven.

According to reliable rumors, Fire King Jeok Cheongang won’t be joining the Two Dragons Pavilion. That leaves only his young Disciple and the other riffraff.

The moment the Two Dragons Pavilion received a mission and left Henan would be his chance.

Dark Heaven? The Murim Alliance? What did he care what became of Murim’s fate?

The corner of his mouth, covered in age spots, twitched.

“Heh heh. Hahaha.”

Before Old Man Ilyang’s eyes, the five characters for greatest under heaven were already shimmering.

Eighty-five years old.

Name: Won Cheol.

Sobriquet: Old Man Ilyang.

His martial arts realm was Supreme Peak.

It was a practically perfect profile, without a single thing to criticize.

But the special judge he had suddenly found himself facing had a different opinion.

“He’s got the eyes of a bastard who’d stab you in the back the first chance he got.”

“Pardon?”

There was no need to ask what he meant. Jeok Cheongang had already closed the distance and was smashing his fist into Old Man Ilyang’s mouth.

Whoosh!

Extreme Yang energy surged from the blow, enough to turn anything in its path to ash.

Old Man Ilyang sucked in a sharp breath and hurriedly crossed his arms to block it, but the difference in strength was obvious.

That’s bad.

Even Scorching Yang Qi had its levels. If Old Man Ilyang’s qi was an ordinary flame, Fire King Jeok Cheongang’s was lava.

That difference became clear in an instant.

Crunch. Wham!

Bones shattered, and Old Man Ilyang’s eyes lost focus.

I watched with genuine regret and shouted, “No! The ace—!”

But once Jeok Cheongang’s fist began spitting fire, it did not stop.

Wham! Wham! Wham-wham-wham!

Arms, legs, stomach, back, face.

As if to show off his regained youth, he drove qi-packed punches into every part of Old Man Ilyang’s body. With each blow, tangible Scorching Yang Qi enveloped the area.

Wow. I’m seeing the pit of fire right here.

Was this audition genre hip-hop?

One Sun²—no, Old Man Ilyang, who had not even received a necklace, lost consciousness without managing a single proper counterattack.

Thud.

Old Man Ilyang collapsed like crumbling ash. Jeok Cheongang stood looking down at him, then muttered, “Now I remember this bastard. He’s the son of a bitch who said he was after our sect’s martial arts.”

“……I’m glad you had a reason, at least. I thought you’d gone mad, Old Master.”

“Better late than never. I can’t stand the sight of him, so get him out of here.”

Not long after Old Man Ilyang’s corpse—or rather, his body—was carried away, a commotion broke out outside.

I glanced through the window. Terrified applicants were fleeing, even using their movement techniques to get away.

“……Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Do they have any idea what it took to arrange this? The audition was completely fucked. Seriously.

Jeok Cheongang caught my resentful look and answered bluntly.

“What do you want me to do?”

“You could’ve gone a little easier on him. Wanting to get his hands on some martial arts isn’t a capital crime. He hadn’t actually done anything yet. You could’ve just rejected him quietly.”

“Tsk, tsk. What an innocent fool. People like that always cause trouble eventually. You have to stamp out a spark before it becomes a fire.”

“……Don’t people usually say you should uproot weeds?”

“You can leave weeds alone. A spark can burn down a mountain.”

I mean, what was he, the chairman of a forest conservation society?

I was muttering inwardly in disbelief when Jeok Cheongang continued.

“And…”

“What now?”

He jerked his chin toward the window.

“When someone leaves, someone else comes.”

“Huh?”