Chapter 983

By the time the thousand Embroidered Uniform Guards led by Jeong Hogun crossed Hebei and reached Liaoning Province, everyone in the region knew the truth. Not just the martial artists—even the common people.

The nomads’ invasion. The Murong Family’s betrayal.

And, finally, Dark Heaven lurking behind it all.

Not even the most hot-blooded martial artist dared stand in the Embroidered Uniform Guard’s way. There were two main reasons.

First was the force and authority of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, among the Great Nation’s finest troops. Second was the banner flying beside the imperial flag.

The Murim Alliance.

Even a renowned veteran of the martial world who had loudly insisted that martial artists should handle Murim affairs themselves would have had no choice but to accept it quietly before the Murim Alliance’s towering banner.

The two great powers guiding the world had joined forces. All that remained was to punish the Murong Family.

Before long, everyone’s attention turned to one place.

Shenyang, Liaoning Province.

The Murong Family’s ancestral estate. They had once thundered across the continent with a charging spear and a composite bow and founded a nation.

Now they faced ruin.

“Surround it.”

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

Jeong Hogun’s terse command shook the earth.

There was no need for all thousand Embroidered Uniform Guards to take action.

The authority of the Marquis of Shangshan, personally appointed by the Son of Heaven not long ago, was vast enough to encompass the entire northern frontier. And when the Embroidered Uniform Guard—the force said to knock birds from the sky—arrived, Liaoning Province’s City Lord had rushed out to greet them and immediately surrendered all the military authority at his disposal.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The first thousand cavalrymen galloped out to surround the Murong Family estate. Heavily armored infantry filled every gap with shields, spears, and swords.

Finally, the archers took their positions. Everything was ready.

Like any Murim family on the frontier, the Murong Family estate was a fortress made by nature itself. And now it was sealed off without a single gap.

Grrrrrr.

With a heavy grinding sound, the iron gate slowly began to open.

A man dressed in white as snow appeared beyond it. Jeong Hogun spoke.

“Loose.”

There was not a moment’s hesitation in the order.

The archers were already in formation, ready to fire.

Fwoosh!

For an instant, part of the sky turned black. Hundreds of arrows tore through the air toward the man in white, and he hastily swung his sword.

Clang-clang-clang!

Steel struck steel, scattering sparks.

When the rain of arrows had swept past the gate, the man stood there looking shaken. From behind him came anguished cries.

“Young Master!”

“You mustn’t! Please, come back!”

“What are you doing? Bring the Young Master back—!”

Instead of answering, the man waved them back. He bit his lip, fixed his gaze on Jeong Hogun in the distance, and took a heavy step forward.

Step.

Jeong Hogun watched him in silence, then spoke again.

“Loose.”

Another rain of arrows fell. The sword flashed.

This time, blood spattered the ground.

Drip. Drip.

The shoulder pierced by an arrow twitched, but the man kept walking. He did not stop even when arrows from the third volley drove into him in several places.

Thwack!

At last, his knees buckled. His once-white clothes had long since turned red.

The family retainers could bear it no longer and rushed out through the gate. Yet there was not a trace of pain in his shout.

“Stop! Have you all forgotten my orders?”

“B-but—!”

“Don’t come any closer! Whatever happens, you must not act rashly!”

The family members who had started to run through the gate clenched their teeth and stopped.

The man gave a small nod, then leaned on his sword and staggered to his feet.

At last, he faced Jeong Hogun, who was riding slowly toward him.

“We finally meet. It seems risking my life was worth it.”

Jeong Hogun looked down at him quietly from the saddle.

Up close, he could see that the man was barely twenty.

“Are you of the Murong bloodline?”

“I am. My father committed an unforgivable wrong.”

They said blood could not lie.

Looking at the young man’s distinctly foreign features, Jeong Hogun suddenly recalled a face he had seen while collecting the dead, just after the fierce battle around Eight Spring Gorge had ended.

“Then you’re Murong Baek’s…?”

“His seventh son, born in his old age. The son of a father burdened with sin.”

The young man answered calmly and cupped his hands in greeting.

“I am Murong Su, the Murong Family’s Seventh Young Master. I greet you, Thousand Captain Jeong.”

“You know me.”

“I have eyes and ears. I’d heard you were coming.”

“Then why did you stay?”

“If I fled like my elder brothers, I would be admitting that I was a traitor and an enemy of Murim.”

“Staying changes nothing. But let’s hear your second reason.”

The young man, Murong Su, lowered his hands and lifted his head.

His gaze at Jeong Hogun was clear, and his voice was calm.

“Someone has to take responsibility, don’t they?”

“…Responsibility.”

“I’m the only direct descendant left at the estate. Everyone involved has either died or fled.”

Jeong Hogun studied him in silence beneath the brim of his helmet, then looked past his shoulder.

“Then who are those people who stayed with you?”

“I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but they, too, were betrayed by my father. And they aren’t people who could really be called members of the Murong bloodline.”

Jeong Hogun could guess who they were.

People so isolated within the family that they could never have learned the truth. Distant branches of distant branches, perhaps, or people who had never fit in. There would also be former guests who had become part of the Murong Family without sharing a drop of its blood.

All but one.

“Did you not know about your father’s crimes, either?”

“I can’t say I knew. Nor can I say I didn’t. I had only a vague feeling that something was wrong.”

“And?”

“I simply watched from a distance.”

“Was it your affection for your own blood?”

“I don’t know when I was ever considered part of the Murong Family. My mother was a barbarian, my birth lowly, and my martial talent nothing worth speaking of…”

Murong Su smiled bitterly.

“But one thing I do know. Saving those who remain is the best I can do.”

“So in the end, you’re the only one left. Murong Su, Murong Baek’s son. A traitor’s blood.”

“That’s right. So, the others—”

“Execute them on the spot.”

At Jeong Hogun’s firm interruption, all color drained from Murong Su’s face.

“What do you—”

“The Murong Family Head, Murong Baek, and his family colluded with foreign enemies, disrupted the order of the Great Nation, and caused immense harm throughout the northern frontier. This was clearly an act of treason. Not the slightest mercy can be shown in punishing it.”

“Thousand Captain!”

Blood mingled with the cry he forced out.

Crack. Murong Su snapped the arrows lodged in his body, his face contorted with anguish.

“I told you! They—they…!”

He coughed up blood and fell to his knees before he could finish.

The retainers, who had watched it all from a distance, could bear no more. They rushed out through the iron gate.

“Young Master!”

“No! The Young Master has done nothing wrong!”

As they ran toward him, crying out in desperation, Jeong Hogun slowly raised a hand.

In Murong Su’s wide eyes, hundreds of archers drew their bowstrings taut.

There was no choice left.

One small gesture. Or one short command.

That would end it. Everything.

“N-no! Please, stop!”

Murong Su’s desperate plea burst out with a spray of dark red blood.

And then, a hoarse old voice spoke from behind Jeong Hogun.

“People only show their true hearts when their lives are in danger. Don’t you agree, Thousand Captain of the Embroidered Uniform Guard?”

The speaker was a small old man with dark skin and distinctive features unlike those of a Han¹ man.

But what made him truly unusual was his mount. He rode neither a horse nor a mule, but a person.

A huge man who might have rivaled a bear.

“Taishan can’t understand what you’re saying. Has Namho gone senile?”

“Damn you. Not again.”

The old man, Namho, was unfazed.

As if he had been waiting for the moment, he pulled out a chunk of jerky and stuffed it into Taishan’s mouth. Then he nodded toward Jeong Hogun.

“Anyway. In this old man’s opinion, this is probably enough for now. What do you think?”

Jeong Hogun thought for a moment, then lowered his hand.

As his fingers slowly relaxed, hundreds of taut bowstrings lowered in silence.

“We’ll take them into custody and bring them to the government office first. Their fate will be decided after a thorough interrogation.”

“Do that. An old man like me couldn’t stop you from going that far. They should be grateful for even that much.”

Namho shrugged and patted the top of Taishan’s head.

The huge man crouched, bringing Namho roughly eye to eye with Murong Su. The young man could only blink, still unable to make sense of what was happening.

“You said your name was Murong Su?”

“Y-yes. But who are you, sir?”

“No need to know an old man’s name. Just know that I belong to the Murim Alliance.”

“The Murim Alliance…!”

“Oh, one more thing. Right now, I also represent the Blazing Flame Divine Dragon—no, the Marquis of Shangshan.”

Namho smiled bitterly at Murong Su’s face, which had gone stiff as stone.

“Don’t look so surprised. I’m only offering you a chance.”

“A chance…?”

“Yes. A chance for those who haven’t strayed from the orthodox path.”

Namho knew.

No—Jin Taekyung knew.

There was light even in deep darkness, and darkness even in the brightest light.

That was why Jin Taekyung had sent Namho here.

There was more than one way to eliminate a future threat. If what remained was not diseased plants but strong, green shoots, there was no reason to pull them up by the roots.

If we’re the orthodox faction, shouldn’t we at least live up to the name?

Remembering what Jin Taekyung had said before leaving the Jin Family of Taiyuan, Namho smiled faintly.

Then he addressed Murong Su and all the others who had come running, though barely a hundred of them remained.

“From this moment on, the Murong Family no longer exists.”

“…!”

“Those who abandoned benevolence and righteousness and strayed from the orthodox path can no longer belong to the Murim Alliance’s orthodox factions, nor can they be a great family.”

His voice carried a force that seemed impossible for someone so small. Though he had put not a trace of internal energy into it, every word reached their ears clearly.

“But if any among you still walk the right path, the Murim Alliance will not cast you aside. That is the right thing to do.”

Namho looked straight at Murong Su.

“As I said, the Murong Family no longer exists. The Murong household, however, is another matter.”

This was not his decision alone. Every sect in the north and the Murim Alliance had agreed to it.

“If your innocence is proven in the future, the Murong family will have another chance to prove itself under a new Family Head.”

“…!”

“…!”

At that moment, the hundred or so members of the family trembled.

They had thought everything was over. Now they had one last chance to clear their names and prove themselves—all because of the sacrifice and courage of the one man who had not abandoned them to the very end.

“Young Master!”

No longer retainers of the Murong Family but of the Murong household, they surrounded Murong Su with fervent voices and shining eyes.

The man they would soon call Family Head.

As Namho watched the scene with a calm gaze, he suddenly remembered something he had forgotten and smiled faintly.

The Five Great Families.

Together with the Nine Sects and One Gang, they were the fifteen pillars holding up the vast world of the Nine Provinces.

He already knew who would fill the vacant fifth seat left by the fall of the Murong name.

No—in fact, all the martial world knew.