Information is a puzzle. One piece alone can never give you the whole picture.
Unless you gather the pieces and fit them together, they’re not information at all—just questions with no value.
The Embroidered Uniform Guard appearing in Anhui about fifteen days ago had been just such a piece.
At least, until the City Lord of Sichuan Province died suddenly and the Blood Soul Gu was discovered.
Things are different now.
Emei and Qingcheng belonged to the Nine Sects and One Gang. Then there were the Sichuan Tang Clan and the Beggars’ Sect. Even the Lower District Sect, whose members were largely commoners, was a Murim organization.
With a full-scale war against Dark Heaven underway, information about the government had naturally fallen down their list of priorities.
If your own neighborhood was on fire, you’d have to be crazy to go looking around the one next door.
But if the fire spread there, that changed everything.
We needed to dig up every piece that, for one reason or another, had never been reported—or had been set aside as mere suspicion.
And the dozen or so messenger pigeons that had just arrived at the Sichuan Tang Clan were carrying those very pieces.
“Old Master. You’re here. And you too.”
Important matters went to the Family Head first, of course.
Tang Sadok greeted Jeok Cheongang and me briefly. In front of him lay a scattering of tightly sealed missives.
“Are those all… about this?”
“Probably.”
At Tang Sadok’s brief reply and glance, the old man beside him—who had been carefully inspecting the messenger pigeons and their missives—spoke up.
“From what I’ve seen, there’s no sign the messenger pigeons were attacked, and none of the missives have been damaged.”
“Are you certain? This is important.”
“I stake my life on it.”
“That’s enough for me. I’ll send for you when the time comes. Until then, don’t let anyone in.”
“Yes, Family Head. I won’t let so much as a rat near.”
The old man bowed politely and left the room. His presence quickly faded into the distance.
Tang Sadok caught the meaning in Jeok Cheongang’s eyes and spoke first.
“He’s a household retainer absolutely loyal to me. He’s handled messenger pigeons here for more than half his life, so I had him check them as a precaution.”
The place Tang Sadok called “here” looked less like a pavilion than a huge aviary.
Even standing still, the sharp, musty smell of birds stung my nose. Iron cages of all sizes filled the space, and feathers of every color fluttered through the air.
It was clear that this place had been used for years solely to train messenger pigeons and send and receive their messages. Dozens of unopened missives were piled up inside.
“There are more than I expected. A lot more missives than pigeons we saw on the way here.”
Tang Sadok gave a small nod.
“I’m surprised, too. Usually, they send only the bare minimum of information to keep the messenger pigeons from attracting attention. But sending several pages on each one means…”
“They had that much information to send, even if this was the only way to do it.”
Jeok Cheongang spoke up, then added quietly,
“And it was that urgent.”
I opened the first missive and read it. What they’d said was no exaggeration.
“What does it say?”
I was silent for a moment before answering Jeok Cheongang.
“After Anhui, people suspected of being members of the Embroidered Uniform Guard appeared in Hubei.”
“Hubei? When did the information come in?”
“About twenty days ago.”
“Twenty days. Damn, that’s late.”
“By then, their trail in Anhui had already gone cold, and it seems neither the Beggars’ Sect nor the Lower District Sect in Hubei guessed they were the Embroidered Uniform Guard.”
Tang Sadok frowned.
“Isn’t it possible they weren’t the Embroidered Uniform Guard at all? If your guess is right and their target is Prince Shangshan, they’d have no reason to detour through Hubei to reach Shanxi. They could go straight from Anhui to Henan.”
He was right. Anhui was closest to Henan, and they could enter Shanxi by heading just a little farther north.
But Tang Sadok had forgotten one important thing.
“If they are the Embroidered Uniform Guard, and they disguised themselves to hide their identities from the start, of course they’d avoid Henan.”
“What does that mean…? Ah.”
Tang Sadok let out a small exclamation.
“The Murim Alliance.”
“Exactly. Their trail was nearly picked up even in Anhui. Henan is practically an impregnable fortress right now.”
The vast storm of war was reaching its peak, and the full-scale war with Dark Heaven had begun.
With everyone in the Central Plains Murim on high alert, crossing Henan—the home of the Murim Alliance’s headquarters—to reach Shanxi would be no different from giving away their identities.
The Murim Alliance wasn’t made up of fools.
Dark Heaven’s agents or the Embroidered Uniform Guard—it didn’t matter. Anyone suspicious would be identified in no time.
Even if the Sword Saint, Mae Jonghak, leader of the Murim Alliance, merely stood by with a gentle smile and watched, one old fox beside him would be different.
Song Ho, the Thousand-Faced Fox.
He had another title: Chief of the Hidden Shadow Pavilion.
At that very moment, as I pictured the Thousand-Faced Fox’s face, always marked by a faint smile—
Rustle.
A faint sound came from the crack beneath the firmly shut door. But no one in the room, myself included, was surprised or flustered.
We’d already sensed someone approaching and had a fair idea who it was.
Creeeak.
At Jeok Cheongang’s glance, I reached out. A gentle current of qi pushed the door open, revealing a person.
No—more accurately, two people who looked like one.
The Tang Family retainer who had left earlier had Namho pinned in an embrace from behind, a blade pressed to his Adam’s apple.
“……?”
“……?”
“……?”
What the hell was going on?
My brain stalled for a moment, but the answer came quickly.
The Tang Family retainer who would do anything Tang Sadok said had been guarding the place so faithfully that not even a rat could get near. Then he’d found Namho.
The minor problem was that Namho had nearly died for it.
“You’re still young at heart. It’s not easy to get fired up at your age.”
Namho, restrained with the retainer pressed up against his back, replied with a face like he’d bitten into a turd.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Anyway, stay still. Your Adam’s apple moves when you talk, and the blade will cut you.”
“There’s a limit to how far you can take a threat—”
Slice.
“Fuck, it really does.”
“I told you not to talk.”
“That’s why I’m using ventriloquism now.”
“Oh, ventriloquism. Teach me sometime.”
“Maybe, if I get the chance… Damn it. Cut the crap and get this man to stand down. I’ve explained, but he won’t listen to a word.”
Jeok Cheongang stroked his chin, looking amused by Namho’s predicament.
“You were right about him being loyal. If he were just a little more reliable, he’d have killed an innocent man.”
“…Sometimes his loyalty goes too far. Let him go. He’s one of ours.”
At Tang Sadok’s sighing words, the retainer blinked, finally withdrew his dagger, and stepped back.
Namho watched him leave without so much as an apology and muttered,
“I’ve seen all kinds of lunatics, but this is something else. No wonder the Sichuan Tang Clan is—”
“Is what?”
Namho met Tang Sadok’s pointed gaze and changed course at the speed of light.
“That of one of the Five Great Families under Heaven.”
An impressive drift. Then again, however long you’d already lived, you wouldn’t want to spend the rest of your life worrying about being poisoned.
“Anyway, why did you take so long? It’s been ages since I sent for you.”
“I was trying to remember something. Maybe I’m getting old, but my memory isn’t what it used to be.”
“Your memory?”
“Yes. My memory.”
Before I could ask what he meant, Namho nodded toward the missive in my hand.
“That information you’re reading—where did it come from?”
“The Hubei branches of the Beggars’ Sect and the Lower District Sect.”
“No, the one beside it.”
I opened another of the dozens of missives scattered across the table and checked it.
“It says Hoyeon Trading Company. I’ve never heard of it. The contents say…”
“It’s a trading company under the Qingcheng Sect. More precisely, Hoyeon Sword, a lay disciple of the Qingcheng Sect, has been running it for twenty years. He’s a Peak master, but he’s much better at running a trading company than at martial arts. Hoyeon Trading Company is one of the five largest in Shandong.”
“What?”
“Oh, and you don’t need to tell me what it says. I’m looking for a different name. Just check the source of each message and tell me.”
“……”
I didn’t know what to ask first.
As far as I knew, he hadn’t set foot in the Central Plains since the Great Faction War. How did he know so much about something from twenty years ago?
And if he didn’t care what the missives said, what source was he looking for?
Jeok Cheongang and Tang Sadok stared at him with wide eyes. I could only look at him, dumbfounded and silent. Namho clicked his tongue, displeased.
“I’m no Jiang Taigong. Did you think I spent all those years in Nanman just sitting around fishing? I kept up with news from the Central Plains through the Hidden Shadow Pavilion’s Hidden Thread while I was there. There’s nothing to be so surprised about.”
“This seems like more than just keeping up with the news. Even if I heard some of that, I wouldn’t remember it.”
“Call it an old man’s pastime. Anything else?”
It was probably closer to an occupational habit, but my curiosity about that didn’t matter right now.
I kept quiet and hurriedly began opening and reading the remaining missives.
They’d all come through the Sichuan Branch, but each had a different source. And since I had to read them to find what Namho wanted, I began piecing together their contents as I went.
What emerged was shocking.
It wasn’t just Anhui and Hubei.
Anhui, Hubei, Hunan, Jiangsu, Shandong.
If the missives were accurate, people suspected of being members of the Embroidered Uniform Guard had appeared in all five provinces, then vanished.
This is…
They were traveling in separate groups.
It looked less like an attempt to cause confusion than a way to move without attracting attention.
They had split into groups of between ten and thirty, scattered across the provinces, then disappeared upon reaching Shaanxi or Shandong.
Shanxi. They gathered in Shanxi.
There was no doubt. Avoiding Henan and drawing as little attention as possible, they’d gone around it, slipping into Shanxi through Shaanxi and Shandong—the provinces that lay along the continent’s flank.
And in Shanxi…
Prince Shangshan Zhu Bao.
My heart sank. I picked up another missive almost mechanically, and my teeth clenched as I read it.
Grind.
“What is it?”
“What does it say?”
Instead of answering, I unfolded the missive and held it out. Tiny characters covered the yellowed animal hide.
Sender: Shanxi Branch of the Lower District Sect.
Prince Shangshan Zhu Bao. Accompanied by the Embroidered Uniform Guard.
Hong Jin, Deputy Military Commissioner of Shanxi Province, second rank. Requested assistance from the Lower District Sect and joined Prince Shangshan.
Tracking commenced. Intervention by the authorities is a concern.
Operation suspended after the tracking team was wiped out.
This document is Heaven-grade. Deliver this information to the person designated by the client as quickly as possible.
Blazing Flame Divine Dragon Jin Taekyung. Urgent search requested.
One missive had turned suspicion into certainty.
Tang Sadok and Jeok Cheongang read it and let out quiet exclamations.
“…This is…”
“It was already five days ago. Given the distance, the Sichuan Branch must have received the information and forwarded it only today.”
That was probably right. If I’d obtained this missive before we gathered at the Sichuan Tang Clan, I would’ve known about it already.
But we were a step too late. Prince Shangshan was already in the Embroidered Uniform Guard’s hands. Behind the Guard stood the Son of Heaven. Or Dark Heaven.
No—maybe Dark Heaven is controlling the Son of Heaven.
It might have been a leap, but the Blood Soul Gu was reason enough to suspect it.
Baeksang, Great Chieftain of the Bai people and second-in-command of the Nanman Beast Palace, had been the same.
And if my suspicion was right…
We’re finished. What happened in Nanman won’t even compare.
The Nanman Beast Palace was a sect and a small kingdom.
But the Great Nation was exactly that: a great nation.
The size of the bomb, and how far the blast would reach when it went off, were on another scale entirely.
Just imagining it sent chills down my spine.
Before I knew it, I was walking toward Prince Shangshan, though I had no idea where he was.
Step.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?”
The voice belonged to neither Jeok Cheongang nor Tang Sadok.
I slowly turned. Namho was calmly reading a missive without so much as looking at me.
“We have to go. We need to protect Prince Shangshan.”
“Fine. But where? East, toward the Imperial Capital? North, toward Shanxi? Surely you don’t mean south or west.”
Even through my confusion, I did my best to answer calmly.
“We’ll head northeast for now. We can use the Beggars’ Sect and the Lower District Sect to track them.”
“Wrong.”
“What? What do you mean…?”
I was baffled by his utterly firm tone. Namho said nothing, only holding out the missive in his hand.
Sender: Nakjo Escort Bureau.
Prince Shangshan and fifty members of the Embroidered Uniform Guard departed Shanxi Province.
Expected to travel through Shandong and Jiangsu toward Zhejiang.
At their current speed, they are expected to enter Jiangsu Province on the first day of next month.
Escort order issued. Person to be escorted: Prince Shangshan Zhu Bao. Assigned: Fire King Jeok Cheongang, Blazing Flame Divine Dragon Jin Taekyung, and all members of the Fire Dragon Pavilion.
The moment I saw the words escort order issued on the last line, I knew where the missive had really come from.
Only one place in the world could give an order to me—or rather, to Jeok Cheongang.
“The Murim Alliance…!”
“The Hidden Shadow Pavilion, to be precise. Though it would have had the Alliance Leader’s approval.”
“The Nakjo Escort Bureau? What is this? I already checked every missive, so where did this even—”
My voice trailed off. The smell of blood reached me, and I turned toward it.
When had that happened? One of the messenger pigeons in a cage lay dead, its belly slit open.
“The Hidden Shadow Pavilion uses this method often. It’s unfair to the poor pigeon, but hiding a message in its belly is more secure for us.”
All of us stared at him, speechless. Namho smiled calmly and went on.
“Do we still have time to hesitate? There’s less than a fortnight until the first of the month. If we leave right now, we can catch up with Prince Shangshan in Jiangsu, at least.”
He was right. There was no more time to hesitate.
I shot off into the darkness.
We had a little over fifteen days left. We had to hurry, even if it was only by a single hour.
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