Chapter 948

Servants and maids hurried to clear away furniture broken and smashed in every direction.

Amid the wreckage, as though a typhoon had swept through the room, hulking men stood glaring at one another and breathing hard.

That was what Peng Cheolhu, the Thunderbolt Saber King, saw when he entered the Inner Hall’s grand conference room. He took in the scene, looked around, and said, “I’ll count to three. No more, no less. If you’re not back in your places by then…”

Whoosh!

Before he’d even finished speaking, dozens of hulking men scattered like the wind, returning to their original places.

All but one.

“You’re here, Father.”

The Thunderbolt Saber King frowned at the greeting from his eldest son, who was nearing seventy.

“You’re awfully late with your morning greeting.”

“I heard you were sleeping soundly…”

“Cut the nonsense. I thought you were finally ready to act like a proper person, so I handed over the Family Head position—and now you’re fighting with your own blood relatives? In this sacred conference room, no less, where we’re discussing matters of vital importance to the family!”

Peng Cheolyeong, the Iron Blood Saber and current Family Head of the Hebei Peng Family, silently took the booming rebuke before speaking.

“That reminds me of when you broke Third Uncle’s left arm. Here, in this sacred conference room where we discuss matters vital to the family.”

The Thunderbolt Saber King faltered, then replied sternly, “I was young and hot-blooded then.”

“That was last year.”

“…That can’t be right.”

“And that’s not all. The year before, Second Uncle dozed off for a moment during a meeting, so you punched him in the jaw—”

“Now, Family Head!”

Second Uncle rebuked Peng Cheolyeong for daring to talk back to his father, the Grand Family Head. Then he added, “It was my shin. I don’t know whose jaw you’re thinking of.”

“I’m sorry. I mixed them up. That was probably Fifth Uncle.”

Fifth Uncle, who had shrunk into a corner the moment the Thunderbolt Saber King appeared, muttered with mournful eyes, “Yes. Three years ago. When I woke up, two days had passed…”

“That’s enough. I get it. Let’s move on.”

Having failed to come out of the exchange with any dignity, the Thunderbolt Saber King shook his head and took the seat of honor.

Fortunately, the sturdy iron chair had survived intact. It had been made to withstand the Hebei Peng Family’s time-honored habit of throwing punches whenever the mood struck.

“Enough nonsense. Everyone, sit down. Tell me what you spent two shichen¹ shouting and beating each other over.”

Peng Cheolyeong sat beside him and got straight to the point.

“Something’s wrong in the north.”

“The north? Why would the Murong Family suddenly be acting strange?”

The Thunderbolt Saber King’s assumption was only natural. To the Hebei Peng Family, the north had always meant the Murong Family.

At the far edge of this vast realm, the descendants of the Xianbei ruled Liaoning Province, a true frontier. Centuries ago, their ancestors had proclaimed themselves kings of a nation; now the family had long held its place among the Five Great Families.

“There’s no way the Murong Family is up to anything. You must have been given bad information.”

The Thunderbolt Saber King waved the matter away as though it wasn’t worth hearing. But Peng Cheolyeong’s next words made his expression harden.

“I wasn’t talking about the Murong Family.”

“What?”

If not the Murong Family, that left only one place.

The true north. A land of outlaws more lawless even than Murim, with schemes and blades lurking everywhere.

“Don’t tell me… you mean those barbarian bastards on the grasslands?”

“Yes.”

Peng Cheolyeong, considered the mildest of the Hebei Peng Family by blood, continued in a calm voice.

“The rumors coming from there are troubling.”

“They’re a vicious lot to the bone, but they’ve been quiet these past few years, haven’t they?”

The Thunderbolt Saber King was right. More precisely, peace and prosperity had begun to settle over the long-troubled grasslands about two years ago.

At the center of that change stood the Jin Family of Taiyuan, newly risen to power in the north.

“I heard there’s been no trouble since the Jin Family of Taiyuan formed that Seven-Route Army of theirs and swept through the place. Am I mistaken?”

“You’re exactly right. They went on a single campaign and pulled out the tooth that had been aching for ages.”

After taking control of the Shanxi Murim, the Jin Family of Taiyuan had moved with a speed and boldness that astonished even the Five Great Families and the Nine Sects and One Gang.

They absorbed sects that had once bared their teeth at them, along with Escort Bureaus and merchant houses. With that strength, they formed seven armed forces and swept across the grasslands.

The mounted bandits who regularly crossed the border to pillage and kill could not stand against the Seven-Route Army. Neither could the horse-riding tribes.

In fact, some of them had even rallied beneath the Jin Family of Taiyuan’s banner and reaped a handsome reward for their victories.

“Temur. Chinggen.”

At the foreign names that slipped from his son’s lips, the Thunderbolt Saber King narrowed his eyes.

He had devoted himself to martial arts since stepping back from the front lines, but he remained the Grand Family Head of the Hebei Peng Family in more than name. He remembered nearly everything discussed at the meetings he occasionally attended—even the names of barbarians whose faces he had never seen.

“Those two who sided with the Jin Family of Taiyuan and became Great Chieftains. Am I right?”

“Yes. I hear they’re called khans on the grasslands.”

“Khan or can, I don’t care. What matters is what those bastards are doing.”

The Thunderbolt Saber King tapped the table with fingers like iron rods, lost in thought.

Temur and Chinggen had risen to power on the grasslands thanks to their alliance with the Jin Family of Taiyuan. If they were behaving suspiciously, there were two possible reasons.

They had grown dissatisfied with what they possessed and wanted more.

Or…

“What are the chances they’ve joined hands with Dark Heaven? I could tear those bastards to pieces and still not be satisfied.”

“We don’t know for certain yet,” Peng Cheolyeong said quietly. “But the evidence suggests they’ve conspired with Dark Heaven.”

The Thunderbolt Saber King let out a low groan to himself.

Those bastards wouldn’t suddenly try this unless they’d lost their minds. Not when they know Fire King—that crazy old man—is standing right behind the Jin Family of Taiyuan.

Everyone knew of Jeok Cheongang’s ties to the Jin Family of Taiyuan. Rumor held that fear of the Fire King was why Temur and Chinggen had allied with the family, even betraying some of their own people to build the power they now held.

And now they’re going to stab him in the back like this? It makes no sense.

Jeok Cheongang was hellfire itself: a blaze that died down only after reducing everything to ash.

The Thunderbolt Saber King was prouder than anyone, but he hated even the thought of becoming the Fire King’s enemy in earnest.

Someone’s backing them. There has to be.

He studied his eldest son.

“You have a reason for thinking this. What’s your evidence?”

“About two years ago, we placed people we could trust on the grasslands.”

“Informants… You used your head.”

“The situation there was still unstable. We made our move when the new trade routes opened.”

Opening a route meant letting people in.

After the Seven-Route Army’s campaign, led by the Jin Family of Taiyuan, more than fine ceramics and jewelry passed along the grassland trade routes.

People.

New kinds of people the lawless grasslands had not seen for a long time.

Some of those who filled the vacuum there included informants from the Hebei Peng Family.

“Recently, a few of them sent word that the barbarians on the grasslands are gathering.”

“How many?”

“At least ten thousand.”

“…What? Ten thousand?”

“Father.”

Peng Cheolyeong struggled to speak at the sight of the Thunderbolt Saber King staring at him, eyes wide.

“That’s only the number of troops confirmed so far.”

“…!”

For a moment, the Thunderbolt Saber King doubted his ears.

Ten thousand. A full ten thousand.

Not a rabble, either, but warriors of a horse-riding people who had once thundered across the continent. Men born on the open plain who died in the saddle.

And that may not even be all of them…

He looked down at his fist. He had clenched it so tightly that his knuckles had gone white.

He could almost see the countless riders charging as one, reins in one hand, bows and lances in the other.

Then fury surged from deep in his chest and blotted out the vision.

“Enough!”

Whoom! Crash!

A powerful wave of qi swept through the room with a thunderous boom. The Thunderbolt Saber King smashed the huge iron table with one punch and rose, glaring at Peng Cheolyeong—no, at everyone in the conference room.

“Were you going to decide a matter this grave without me? Have you all lost your minds?”

Crrrreak.

The giant’s power pressed down from every side. The old Grand Family Head’s anger shook the conference room as though a typhoon had struck it.

Then Peng Cheolyeong spoke.

“I had to hear everyone’s opinions before I told you.”

“You fool! The family’s survival is at stake!”

His eldest son remained calm—the son he had trusted enough to make Family Head—but the Thunderbolt Saber King’s anger would not subside.

Ten thousand already confirmed. If the barbarian force grew to tens of thousands and entered Hebei in fifteen days—or even in a few days—there would be no containing it.

“How dare you…”

Betrayal and disappointment burned through him.

Then Peng Cheolyeong’s subdued voice reached his ears.

“Please forgive me. I couldn’t risk Hebei Peng Family blood being spilled over a hasty decision. That’s all.”

“What does that—”

His trembling body went still.

Only then did the Thunderbolt Saber King sense something was wrong. He slowly scanned the faces around him and realized what had struck him as familiar about Peng Cheolyeong’s words.

They aren’t after our family!

The realization flashed through him like lightning.

Of course. If the grassland forces were already marching south toward Hebei, no one would still be sitting in this conference room. They would be mobilizing the family’s forces and the entire Hebei Murim, preparing for battle as fast as they could.

Then… surely not?

His face went rigid.

“Shanxi. It’s Shanxi Province.”

He had spoken almost to himself, but Peng Cheolyeong quietly nodded.

“When will those goddamn bastards set foot in Shanxi Province?”

Someone answered in a grave voice.

“We expect them within seven days at the latest.”

“Do they—the Jin Family of Taiyuan—know?”

“Yes,” Peng Cheolyeong said quietly. “They’re already preparing for battle.”

The Thunderbolt Saber King groaned and raised his head. Beyond the window, dark clouds now filled what had been a blue sky.

Fewer than ten days remained until the Double Ninth Festival.²