Chapter 645

Who had crossed the line first?

Me? Or Baeksang?

And of the words we’d exchanged, which were true and which were lies?

Questions flashed through my mind, but they no longer mattered. From here on, we would settle the matter as martial artists did: with force.

Whoosh!

A sharp sound cut through the air. Before it reached my ears, I tilted my head aside, dodging the Finger Qi flying toward me. Without hesitation, I planted a hand on the stone table in front of me.

Boom!

The table, carved from a massive boulder, shuddered. Thirty-three wine cups sprang into the air. I reached out and sent several of them toward one person alone.

Tung.

Baeksang.

Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!

They were crude cups, roughly carved from wood. Filled with the internal energy I’d sent into them, they became deadly weapons—faster than arrows, with enough force to shatter stone.

But Baeksang was calm. More importantly, he was strong.

Whoomph! Slash!

He swept his straightened hand blade sideways. Invisible qi cut across the air and split the cups apart.

Before the fragments could hit the floor, Baeksang surged from his seat. His figure blurred.

Papapat!

White robes fluttered like a ghost through the darkness over the hall. In an instant, he had crossed the stone table and closed the five zhang¹ between us. His fist came down toward the crown of my head.

“You’re crossing the line again.”

I muttered the words and drove my palm upward.

Fwoosh!

Flame Divine Palm.

Flames consumed the darkness and met Baeksang’s fist, which blazed with Force. White and blue energies mingled, bursting into a flash that shook the hall.

Boom! Rumble-rumble!

A descending fist and an upward palm. An old man and a young man. A collision of raw strength.

The impact rocked the hall.

Whoooosh!

Beyond the light exploding from the point where our attacks met, I saw Baeksang’s eyes widen.

“…!”

Baeksang’s eyes, which had always shone with a cool light, held unmistakable surprise.

How?

I knew the look. Most of the people I’d faced had worn it.

Before my name and sobriquet had begun spreading through the Murim, and even afterward, people sometimes seemed to forget that and underestimate me too soon—because I was young, came from an insignificant family, or was an inexperienced brat who had never experienced war.

Whenever that happened, I kindly set them straight.

Not with words, but with force.

Just like now.

Along with the mutter that never escaped my lips, I drew up the energy filling my entire body even more forcefully.

Whoooosh!

The tremendous internal energy of no less than three jiazi² stirred to life and stretched. The terrible heat of my Scorching Yang Qi evaporated the moisture around us, and red heat haze rose into the air.

Tsss-tsss-tsss!

Baeksang’s fist began to give way against my open palm. His trembling eyes flicked from his burning white robes to my calm face.

A cool voice emerged from between his heat-cracked lips.

“You bastard…”

Remarkable composure. Usually, people in his position went straight to fucking bastard, son of a bitch, or crazy bastard.

But whether he had been tempered by a hundred battles or because he was the Great Chieftain leading tens of thousands of tribespeople, Baeksang’s emotions might have surged, but they never overflowed, and his martial prowess was far greater than I had expected.

Swish!

A blackened collar brushed against my forearm. At some point, the fist he had clenched tightly had spread open like an eagle’s talons and shot toward my wrist with lightning speed.

It would have caught me, too, if I hadn’t moved faster and hit harder.

Crack!

I caught his wrist instead and squeezed with strength far beyond human limits. Pain made his brow twitch, and a short groan escaped him.

“Hng!”

I seized the opening.

Now.

I twisted his wrist aside, blocking his other hand and throwing him off balance. Then I drove my free palm into his flank.

Bang!

I released his wrist before the heavy report of the strike reached my ears.

In front of dozens of watching chieftains, Baeksang flew backward. He twisted in midair and landed on the stone table.

Swish.

He touched down so lightly he made no sound. His expression was anything but light.

He fixed me with a heavy stare and started to move again.

“Enough.”

The voice was not loud, but it held a deep resonance and authority. The Beast Miao King had risen from his seat and opened his mouth with a hard expression.

“Stand down. Both of you.”

Baeksang’s figure wavered. I shrugged.

“I didn’t move.”

That was an undeniable fact. I had pulled my chair back a little, but Baeksang had been the one to charge first. I had exchanged moves with him while remaining seated.

And the result? Well, the other chieftains were staring at me as if they’d seen a ghost. Their faces said it all.

“Jin Taekyung.”

I did need to show some propriety. This was Nanman, not my home ground, and Baeksang was the Great Chieftain of the Bai people.

At the Beast Miao King’s reproachful call, I raised both hands.

“I’m sorry. It was a situation where I couldn’t help using my hands. I just acted without thinking.”

I still needed to make that clear. Even if I conceded that I’d started the trouble, Baeksang had used an attack that could have killed me.

“…Hoo.”

Perhaps he understood. The Beast Miao King sighed softly and turned to the other man.

“Baeksang, do not act rashly.”

Conflict flickered through Baeksang’s cold eyes. He kept staring at me without answering the Beast Miao King behind him, then looked around the hall.

More than thirty chieftains watched us. Some shifted in their seats as if ready to rush me. Others fought back smiles. Still others looked half dazed by what they’d just seen.

There were factions within the Nanman Beast Palace. And in front of all of them, Baeksang’s standing and Fame had taken a blow that would not be easily erased.

At the hands of a Han Chinese brat from the Central Plains, no less.

“…”

Baeksang knew it. He pressed his lips together and bowed his head to the Beast Miao King.

“I apologize for causing a disturbance. I will see you again after I have calmed my mind.”

Then he left the hall, his scorched robes fluttering behind him.

Yohi rose and followed as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Heugung hurried after them, and nearly half the chieftains got up as well, watching one another for cues.

“Palace Lord, forgive me, but I…”

“L-let’s go together.”

They were probably the pro-Baeksang faction. Unlike the ordinary moderates, they were fiercely opposed to Nanman joining the Murim Alliance.

As roughly half of the thirty-two chieftains filed out, Yayul Mok frowned in anger. The Beast Miao King spoke wearily.

“So it’s finally come to this.”

I glanced at him before speaking.

“I’m sorry. Feels like this happened because of me.”

“Hoo. You have nothing to apologize for. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“Oh, good. That’s what I thought, too.”

“…”

The remaining chieftains, Yayul Mok, and the Beast Miao King all gave me the same flat look.

—It is because of you, you bastard.

What was that? I must be hearing things. It definitely wasn’t Sound Transmission.

I tilted my head at the strange phenomenon, then asked, “The Tribal Grand Council isn’t over, is it?”

“The Tribal Grand Council runs for three days, alongside the festival. You were told that before you attended.”

“I was. Just checking.”

The Beast Miao King shook his head at my shameless answer.

“Did you really have to take it that far?”

“It felt too suspicious to let it go. I wanted to see his real reaction, too.”

“That curiosity has made enemies of more than ten thousand Bai people. Add Yohi and Heugung, the two Great Chieftains who follow Baeksang, and the others, and it would be no exaggeration to say that half of Nanman is against you.”

Hmm. Half of Nanman.

“That’s not as bad as I expected.”

“What?”

“Two days ago, all of Nanman was against me. I was about to get thrown out before the Tribal Grand Council even started.”

“…Hah.”

The Beast Miao King gave a hollow laugh and turned to the chieftains who remained.

“Chief Jang. Chief Go.”

“Yes.”

“This time, I will need your help. First, organize a scouting party of fast-moving warriors and have them watch the area toward Guizhou.”

“Because of the Blood Monk?”

The Beast Miao King nodded.

“Both Baeksang and Jin Taekyung have a point. The man has no particular reason to come to Nanman. But if he belongs to Dark Heaven, we should be prepared.”

“We will obey your command, Palace Lord.”

“As you command.”

If the chieftains who had left were Baeksang’s people, most of those still here were loyal to the Beast Miao King or were moderates favorably disposed toward him.

The two chiefs, each the leader of a mid-sized tribe, accepted their orders without protest. The Beast Miao King’s expression eased a little.

“Tonight, we will erect a memorial for those who died and hold a banquet in their honor. The Tribal Grand Council will resume afterward. You may withdraw for now.”

“What happened?”

Namho came rushing over the moment we returned to our quarters.

“You didn’t cause another incident, did you?”

His voice brimmed with suspicion. I was about to answer when Hyuk Mujin burst out indignantly.

“Old man Nam! What do you take our Captain for?”

“What else? A lunatic.”

“Now, now. Even if our Captain is a lunatic, that’s going too far! Do you seriously think he’d cause trouble at a meeting that important?”

“Yes. Easily.”

Is it normal to feel guilty right now?

I hesitated, then opened my mouth. Or tried to.

That was when Ju Hwaran joined in.

“Elder Namho, that’s too harsh. How can you call our Pavilion Master a lunatic?”

If Taishan was the reason Namho was aging so quickly, Ju Hwaran was his one weakness. The man who had been so sure of himself a moment ago scratched his thinning crown.

“Well, I…”

“Our Pavilion Master came here representing the Murim Alliance. He can be a little rough around the edges, but he knows how important it is to secure Nanman’s entry into the alliance. He would never cause a disturbance at the Tribal Grand Council.”

“…”

Please kill me.

My conscience had gone past pricking me. It hurt.

Meanwhile, Ju Hwaran was canvassing the others like an enthusiastic campaigner.

“What do you all think? Why isn’t anyone answering?”

The usually quiet Song Ilseom smacked his lips.

“Hmm. Young Bureau Head, perhaps we ought to hear from the man himself first…”

“Extra bonus.”

“On second thought, you’re right. The Pavilion Master would never do such a thing.”

Money-crazed bastard—out.

“Why aren’t the other two saying anything?”

“Taishan. Hungry…”

“I heard there’s a banquet tonight.”

“Taishan. Strongly agrees with Young Lady Ju.”

“…I agree as well.”

Glutton—out. Ex-fiancé I could chew to bits and still not feel satisfied—out.

Her petition gathered signatures with the speed of Quick Attack.³ Then Ju Hwaran turned eyes sparkling like the Milky Way on me.

“Pavilion Master, say something. So, have you decided to join the alliance?”

One second felt like an hour.

After a long silence, I spoke.

“Um. Everyone. Well. There was… a minor problem.”

Ju Hwaran froze. Namho nodded as if he’d known all along.

“See? Crazy Pavilion Master.”

“…”

“Did you kill someone?”

“No.”

“Then you hit someone.”

“…”

“Who? Some chieftain who picked a fight without knowing better? Or someone who said something you didn’t like? Surely not the Great Chieftain of the Bai people.”

“Ah.”

“Pavilion Master?”

“…”

“…Pavilion Master?”

As Ju Hwaran’s voice grew faint, I kept my mouth shut and stared toward a distant mountain.

Namho chuckled.

“See? Crazy bastard.”