Chapter 903

Some mysteries have no answer, no matter how long you think about them. When that happens, there’s only one thing left to try.

Turn everything upside down.

Forget all the circumstances and clues you’ve gathered so far, and start over from the beginning. That’s the last resort.

Like retracing your steps to find something precious you don’t remember dropping, I went back to the starting point and reconsidered every detail, large and small.

At last, I arrived at a hypothesis.

“The Emperor doesn’t want Prince Shangshan put in danger.”

“…!”

A faint ripple passed through Cang Gong’s gray eyes.

It appeared and vanished in less time than it took to blink, but I’d been watching his every tiny movement too closely to miss it.

So it was true.

The realization struck me, sending a jolt down my spine.

The crowd’s tremendous cheering still hadn’t died down when Cang Gong, who had been gazing steadily at me, spoke.

“When did it start?”

Anyone else might have struggled to understand the question without context. I knew at once what he meant.

When had I started suspecting them?

“So Gyo.”

Yes. That was exactly when.

The day she let me go, despite having every advantage. She couldn’t possibly have failed to stop me.

Nothing I knew, no clue I could find, fully explained her strange behavior. It had stayed with me like a fishbone caught in my throat.

“So Gyo…”

Cang Gong gave a small nod at my brief answer.

“Yes, I suppose it would be. She was the only flaw in this grand scheme. Had I known it would come to this, I should have eliminated that mysterious woman long ago. Even if it meant an all-out war with the Emperor.”

What?

I swallowed the question before it could burst out, but I couldn’t hide my momentary shock.

Even Cang Gong doesn’t know who So Gyo is?

Cang Gong caught the confusion that had appeared on my face and gave a low laugh.

“From the looks of it, you don’t know who she is either. You don’t even know whether she’s an ally or an enemy.”

“…!”

“Strange. Very strange. Until just now, I suspected she might be a Murim Alliance spy, but… now I haven’t the faintest idea. Even if she were a master secretly trained by the imperial family, she couldn’t have escaped my notice.”

This time, setting aside the situation I was in, I couldn’t help sharing Cang Gong’s bewilderment.

Then who is So Gyo?

If she’d belonged to the Murim Alliance, she would have told me the whole truth before things got to this point. And if she were a master of Dark Heaven or the imperial family, Cang Gong would have known.

But So Gyo was different.

From what I’d been able to determine, she was a third party. Someone who belonged to neither side.

Who the hell is she?

Who was So Gyo? What expression was she wearing as she watched us right now? What was she thinking?

And…

Is she an enemy or an ally?

I fought the urge to look toward So Gyo, who should have been standing at the top of the stairs in the distance.

Cang Gong and I were only a few steps apart. Taking my eyes off him for even a moment would be suicide.

Of course, the only reason I could afford to stand here provoking him was that I was certain he couldn’t kill me yet.

“You have a fine look in your eyes. Fighting spirit spilling over. But why would that person take an interest in you?”

That person.

There was no mistaking the fear and reverence in Cang Gong’s voice as he spoke of someone who wasn’t here.

The Blood Lord, the Western Heaven Demon Lord, and the Southern Heaven Demon Empress had all felt the same way.

Dark Heaven existed because it had a heaven of its own: the Lord of Heaven.

“Tell me. As the person concerned, you might know why that person is searching for you so relentlessly. Is it because you’ve achieved something unprecedented at such a young age? Or is it because of some other worth only that person can recognize?”

His gray eyes, so like a dead man’s, glimmered faintly.

A chill came with that gaze, subtle and terrifying, unlike anything I’d ever felt.

Hissss.

I’d stake my life on it: even the Yin-Cold Qi of the Great Snow Fiend, who’d cornered me in Nanman, hadn’t been this intense.

No. This is different from Yin-Cold Qi.

Something more primal and pure.

A different kind of power, one I’d never heard of or experienced.

But I overcame my instinctive fear. Enduring the chill seeping into my bones, I answered.

“Why the hell are you asking me, you ball-less bastard?”

“…!”

Cang Gong stared at me, eyes wide, then smiled faintly.

“Yes, of course you wouldn’t know. How could someone like you presume to fathom that person’s intentions—”

“Yeah. I can look all I want, but I still can’t find your balls.”

“Choose your words carefully. No matter how generously that person has blessed me…”

“Yeah. I could search the whole ocean and still not find your testicles.”

“…”

“I chose my words carefully. What’s the problem?”

His faint smile was long gone. Amid the people’s continued cheering, Cang Gong’s tightly shut, pale lips parted.

“What do you think? Surely that person would understand if I merely pulled out your tongue.”

“Sure. The Lord of Heaven might. You’re the one among his followers he worries about most, seeing as you haven’t got any balls. His sore ball—no, his sore finger.”

I nodded in agreement and pointed over Cang Gong’s shoulder.

“But that guy won’t understand.”

In the slowed-down flow of time, everything happened at once.

Cang Gong turned his head to look behind him. I thrust a fist wreathed in flame at him. And a solid palm shot forward like a flash of light, as if reversing time all by itself, intercepting my fist before it could reach anyone.

BOOM!

A roar like the sky splitting open brought time rushing back to normal. At the same instant, a powerful shock wave shook the grand banquet hall.

Crack! Rrrrmm!

The ground shuddered as though an earthquake had struck.

Screams and shouts erupted on all sides.

Amid the sudden chaos, a pair of gleaming white eyes fixed on me.

“Was that all?”

Crack.

His voice was calm, but the immense force squeezing my fist was anything but.

An unknown, ice-cold energy filled his palm, suppressing the flames in mine and snuffing them out.

“Such a shallow trick. I’m disappointed.”

Crunch. Crunch.

Agonizing pain shot through my captured fist.

If my muscles and bones hadn’t surpassed the limits of an ordinary human, they would already have been ground to dust.

But I’d endured this much pain more times than I cared to count. And I’d never expected that surprise attack to bring him down.

I’d only needed a signal flare to let everyone know what was happening.

“I’m a little hurt that you think it was just a shallow trick.”

What?

“I don’t know if you’ve heard of magic, but I’m about to show you some. Watch closely.”

“What are you—”

The moment Cang Gong frowned—

BOOOOM!

Blinding flames swallowed the darkness, and the rock walls that ringed the grand banquet hall like towering ramparts burst apart.

From the place Cang Gong had glanced toward moments earlier, a figure strode out.

“I’ll give you my first and last warning.”

The flames dancing in that damn monk’s eyes looked anything but Buddhist. He swept his gaze across the hall and went on.

“Only step forward if you want your flesh and bones to melt.”

“…!”

Recognition darkened Cang Gong’s eyes. I smiled.

“Accio,¹ Fire King.”

At the same time, I thrust out my still-free hand toward his chest. He faltered for an instant.

The Flame Divine Palm, at nine-tenths mastery.

BOOOOM!

“Huh?”

The young man stopped abruptly and looked back.

Seeing him stare down the road they’d traveled, his brow furrowed, the burly man ahead of him asked, “Hyukmu. What’s wrong?”

“No, it’s just…”

Hyuk Mujin trailed off and clicked his tongue.

“I thought I heard something.”

Taishan raised an eyebrow. “A sound? An enemy?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I imagined it.”

“Then no. That sound Hyukmu heard—Taishan didn’t hear it.”

“But I’m telling you, I’m sure I heard something.”

“Hyukmu. Your martial arts are weak. Taishan could turn you into finely minced five-spice pork if he wanted.”

“…Hey, what the hell? Are you looking down on me?”

“Mm. Honestly, a little.”

“…”

“Hyukmu. We can’t stop. We have to go. Everyone’s waiting.”

Hyuk Mujin swallowed his flare of anger and let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, I’m going. I’m going.”

But despite his answer, his steps didn’t come as easily as before.

The road behind him and the walls of the Imperial Capital, growing more distant by the moment, kept appearing before his eyes.

Damn it. Am I hearing things now, too?

Annoying as it was, Taishan was probably right that there hadn’t been a sound. If a Peak master a step above him hadn’t heard it, then there was nothing to hear.

Even if Mujin had heard something, it must have been the faint noise of an insect or an animal moving.

Then why do I feel like this?

Hyuk Mujin frowned harder and thumped his chest.

His heart kept pounding when it hadn’t before, as though an invisible hand were squeezing it tight.

Something feels wrong.

Along with the inexplicable unease, the face of someone he’d parted with a few shichen² ago suddenly flashed through his mind.

Just one mission.

The last voice he’d heard before leaving still echoed in his ears.

Oh, one more thing.

Yes?

Be careful. You and everyone else.

Blazing Flame Divine Dragon Jin Taekyung.

Hyuk Mujin had answered the warning with a grin. Then he and the rest of the Fire Dragon Pavilion had left the Imperial Capital, bound for the border between Jiangsu and Zhejiang Provinces.

For the very place written on the note Jin Taekyung had given him.

The mission’s going fine… so what’s wrong with me?

Everything was going smoothly, yet his chest felt unbearably tight.

The Captain—Jin Taekyung—had acted so strangely that the memory pricked at him like a fishbone caught in his throat.

Taekyung usually laughed with him over nothing, hit him for getting cheeky, and cursed him without holding back. Today, Mujin had seen none of that.

“Hyukmu!”

“…Ah.”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Hyuk Mujin realized he’d stopped walking again.

Then he saw his companions waiting a short distance ahead, and his heart sank.

Grave eyes. Troubled faces.

Everyone except Taishan was looking at him the same way.

“Everyone…”

Hyuk Mujin barely swallowed a groan. At last, he thought he understood the unease that had been squeezing his chest.

“Did you all know?”

Namho answered his halting question in a heavy voice.

“Yes. More or less.”

“The Captain told you?”

“No. Senior Jeok gave us a warning beforehand. He knew what choice his Disciple would make.”

“Then why was I the only one—”

“If he’d told you to leave because you’d be a burden, would you have obeyed without a fuss?”

“…!”

“I don’t like this situation either. No—none of us do.”

For a moment, Hyuk Mujin had nothing to say.

He understood perfectly well how they felt about being burdens instead of help. He understood why Jin Taekyung had lied to send him away.

And it was the truth.

But… but…

Still, it shouldn’t be like this.

Hyuk Mujin bit down on his lip until it bled and turned his head. Then, for an instant, he forgot the entire situation and muttered in a dazed voice.

“Huh…?”

Far away, countless figures moved through the darkness, shaking the forest as they passed.

Too many to count, yet he couldn’t sense a single presence among them.

What are those?

The same question arose in everyone’s mind. So did a fear none of them could explain.

This time, instinct rather than reason moved Hyuk Mujin.

No—it moved them all.

Whoosh!