Chapter 996

Sometimes, I wonder.

Maybe the real benefit of circulating your qi isn’t growing stronger by accumulating internal energy. Maybe it’s calming your mind.

Kwoooosh.

I had no idea how much time had passed.

I simply let myself be carried by the swift, powerful current.

At last, the wave of internal energy swept through the Eight Extraordinary Meridians and hundreds of acupoints. The moment I gathered it in, I opened my eyes to a breathless silence.

Ding.

A clear chime rang out right on cue.

As the alert confirmed that I’d successfully finished circulating my qi, I calmly examined the energy within me.

The very best.

The words came to mind without hesitation, and there wasn’t a shred of exaggeration in them.

That’s right.

I’m stronger now than I’ve ever been.

I’d fully absorbed the Heavenly Power Demon’s energy, which had remained inside me for quite some time without being completely assimilated, and the Thunderbolt Saber King’s as well.

Four jiazi¹.

An incredible amount of internal energy—especially considering my age and how long I’d been practicing martial arts.

A greenhorn just starting out in Murim might wonder why I’d gained only one jiazi¹ after receiving Transmitting Internal Energy Across the Body from two old masters. But martial artists who’d reached a certain realm knew better.

Martial arts weren’t as simple as one plus one.

No matter how much internal energy you possessed, if its essence was impure, you couldn’t draw out even half of it. You couldn’t control it properly, either.

In that sense, the four jiazi¹ of internal energy reborn through complete fusion was pure power I could control entirely.

If the Heavenly Power Demon and the Thunderbolt Saber King had been in their usual condition when they transferred their energy, I might’ve grown even stronger, but…

Wanting more would be greedy.

Even I, with the mysterious divine strength known as the System, had risked my life twice while undergoing Transmitting Internal Energy Across the Body.

And yet I couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. The reason was the reality I’d faced the moment I finished circulating my qi.

System

Quest

Desert Mirage

You have learned of troubling signs in Xinjiang, at the far western edge of your world.

A cursed land, long separated from the Central Plains.

A group is crossing the scorching desert, where nothing exists but hot sand and the blazing sun, and heading toward the center of the world. But their true nature remains hidden behind a dense mirage.

Please remember. Never forget.

The world—and the heavens—are changing.

Nothing is set in stone.

The countless enemies drawing near from far away, even now, may prove to be no more than a momentary spark.

Or they may become a hellfire that brings the world to ruin.

Grade: Supreme Peak

Restriction: Jin Taekyung

Mission: Head west (Incomplete)

Reward: A large amount of EXP and Fame

Follow-up Quests depending on your choice

Failure: ???

I’d read the Quest window dozens of times already, ever since sending the Fire Dragon Pavilion members away to prepare for the perilous journey ahead.

I gestured it away from the corner of my vision and remembered the conversation I’d had with Jin Wikyung two hours earlier.

“If Dark Heaven crosses Xinjiang and cuts through the desert, as the information from the Hidden Shadow Pavilion suggests, where would it focus its attack?”

“The Murim Alliance is considering three possibilities at once. They might advance through Tibet, which could be considered part of the Outer Lands. They might target Gansu Province, where the Kongtong Sect and Black Dragon Demon Gate are holding their ground. But the most dangerous place is probably…”

“Qinghai. The Kunlun Sect, then.”

“That’s right. Kunlun Mountain is a natural fortress, but for Dark Heaven, which has its sights on the Central Plains, it’s also the first obstacle they must overcome. They won’t leave Qinghai alone.”

Shanxi Province was a remote backwater, but it was nothing compared to Qinghai, at the westernmost edge of the Central Plains.

Its highlands included terrain so rugged it was downright forbidding, making it difficult to produce abundant supplies. Commerce and industry hadn’t developed much, either, thanks to the Demonic Cult’s long hold over the desert.

Merchants would risk their lives for profit, but even they couldn’t cross a desert knowing death awaited them.

But even setting all that aside, Qinghai was an indispensable strategic stronghold from a military standpoint.

One side had to defend it. The other had to trample it underfoot to get past.

Dark Heaven has the strength to do it. Besides, Qinghai has been overrun before.

Over fifty years ago, the hundred thousand demonic soldiers led by the Heavenly Demon defeated the Kunlun Sect and took Qinghai. That was the beginning of the Great Faction War.

And now, that brutal history of bloodshed was about to repeat itself after all these years.

Qinghai. Qinghai Province…

I stared out the window, my gaze heavy.

Beyond the latticed frame, hundreds of torches swayed in the darkness that had settled without my noticing.

Night had fallen, but everyone in the Jin Family of Taiyuan was still awake.

No, it wouldn’t be just the Jin Family.

I could picture the whole of Murim in the Central Plains—including the Nine Sects and One Gang and the Five Great Families—boiling like a cauldron over hot coals.

It’s coming. The all-out war we can’t avoid.

The drums of war had been pounding across the land for a long time. But the countless enemies even now crossing the desert toward somewhere in the west weighed on my heart more heavily than ever.

Those who meant to defend, and those who meant to take.

A battle unlike anything we’d faced so far awaited us all in the west. Each side would stake its fate on it.

The fate of this world might be decided by a single battle, soon to come.

Maybe that was why the System had suddenly malfunctioned. Why this absolute law, which had never strayed from its set path no matter what happened, had begun to waver.

Then what had caught me by the ankle when I tried to leave this place for a little while—just a little while?

The System? Or…

Dark Heaven. No—the Lord of Heaven, to be precise.

I couldn’t be sure yet, but I could guess one thing.

Far away in the west, somewhere hidden in that pitch-black darkness, an answer to this mystery was waiting.

Or perhaps death.

Damn it.

Nothing ever goes smoothly.

I gave a bitter smile to myself, then spoke to someone waiting beyond the firmly shut door.

“We leave in exactly fifteen minutes.”

“As you command.”

I heard Hyuk Mujin’s footsteps receding after his unusually forceful reply. As I stood, I suddenly sensed something strange and turned around.

Tap. Tap-tap.

Something damp and white drifted into the room on the wind.

I looked at the unwelcome visitor that had arrived months ahead of schedule—the snowflakes slowly piling up—and remembered a line from the Quest window.

The world—and the heavens—are being turned upside down.

I prayed silently that those words, at least, weren’t an error.

Because the world as I felt it now—and the sky spilling those white snowflakes—seemed to have finished changing already.

The light in the room was dim.

It was already pitch-black outside, and the wind seeping through the crack in the door made the candle flame flicker precariously.

Yet the man reading the letter in his hand didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow. Years of grueling training since childhood had honed his eyesight enough to distinguish its tiny writing even by a flame that looked ready to go out.

He stared at the letter he’d already read several times. In his eyes, the wavering candlelight reflected part of its message.

Return immediately.

The handwriting was sharp as a blade, and beside it was a familiar official seal.

Guessing who had sent the letter, he muttered softly.

“You haven’t changed, have you?”

His voice echoed hollowly, low and subdued.

The letter wasn’t a request or a favor. It was an order.

It had always been this way. Everyone took it for granted, but he had never grown used to it.

The person who’d written that dry, impersonal command, as though ordering a servant, was his own flesh and blood.

More precisely, the person who had given him that blood.

“…Father.”

The word came after a brief hesitation.

It still felt unfamiliar. As he murmured it, he remembered a rigid, cold childhood with no room for dreams, only purpose—and the stern pair of eyes that had watched him through it.

Creepy as it was, those eyes still seemed to be watching everything he did.

Perhaps that was why he failed to notice someone approaching outside the door.

Thump.

“Ugh!”

A sudden noise overlapped with a cry of pain. Then a sharp shout rang out, breaking the silence.

“You idiot! Height! I told you to mind your height!”

“Taishan not stupid. Namho stupid. You saw it. Why didn’t you dodge?”

“You little punk! Is this because I didn’t give you any sweets?”

The familiar voices reached his ears. Guessing the intruders’ identities, he tossed the letter in his hand into the lamp.

Fwoosh. Crackle.

The paper was less than half the size of his palm and had been treated with oil to keep it dry. It went up in flames at once.

At that moment, the firmly shut door flew open.

Or rather, it was smashed to pieces.

“My lord! Are you ready?”

Bam!

The booming shout came with a shower of splinters. But the man—Sama Pyo—didn’t look the least bit startled. He picked up the travel bag beside him and stood.

“Of course. What about you, Taishan?”

“Taishan ready! Perfect!”

Namho, perched on Taishan’s shoulders, spat out a few pieces of wood.

“Of course it’s perfect. Bring just the jerky he packed back to life and you’d have five cows.”

“That sounds like a reasonable amount to me. Not excessive.”

“…It’s a wonder the Black Dragon Demon Gate hasn’t gone bankrupt. He’s a gluttonous demon through and through.”

Sama Pyo gave a short laugh. He already knew that the old Hidden Shadow Pavilion agent, who hadn’t seemed all that pleasant at first, had a warm heart and a fair amount of affection for others.

“More importantly, what were you doing in here alone?”

“I stopped by for a moment. There was something I needed to take care of before we left.”

“Is that so?”

Namho glanced over Sama Pyo’s shoulder, but the letter, soaked through with oil, had already burned away without a trace.

“Then put that fire out before you come out. The weather’s shitty enough without you burning down someone else’s thatched cottage.”

“Oh, I almost forgot.”

Sama Pyo answered mildly and waved a hand, snuffing out the candle. Then, as though nothing had happened, he headed for the doorway.

“Let’s go. Everyone must be waiting.”

Namho watched Sama Pyo’s back with a curious look.

But only for a moment.

Thump.

“Ugh!”

Namho struck his forehead on the eaves again. With a cry, he grabbed Taishan by the hair and yanked.