Chapter 997

Fifteen minutes.

Too short to properly savor even a cup of tea, but plenty of time for the Fire Dragon Pavilion members, myself included, to finish our preparations.

And to prepare a send-off no one else had expected.

Whoooosh. Fwoosh.

Countless torches swayed.

Neither the early darkness nor the snowstorm now whipping fiercely through the air could put out that vast blaze.

Crunch.

Footprints marked the snow-covered ground.

Leaving behind hundreds of people standing like iron towers, each holding a torch in one hand, Jin Wikyung stepped forward alone. Then he suddenly spoke.

“The prodigal son finally came home, only to leave again.”

His voice was stern, as if he were passing judgment on a criminal, but prodigal son drew quiet laughter from here and there.

By now, everyone in the Jin Family of Taiyuan knew it. Not just them, but all of Shanxi Province—or rather, the whole world.

Jin Taekyung was no longer the Shame of the Family or a dissolute rogue.

Ever since the day, more than a year ago, when I defeated the traitors—including the Head Elder—and restored peace, I had been their pride and their symbol.

“I never wanted to send you away again.”

I shrugged at Jin Wikyung, who muttered the words with a bitter expression.

“What can I do? Guess it’s fate.”

“What came from the Murim Alliance was information, not an order. If you change your mind, even now, you can stay with the family and leave with everyone else.”

“That sounds nice. But I’ll go ahead and wait for you. I hate being late.”

Jin Wikyung let out a small groan at my polite refusal.

He was practically the Family Head of the Jin Family of Taiyuan, so he couldn’t simply leave. He had to keep not only the family members but countless martial artists from Shanxi under control as they moved—and the nomads they had subdued, too.

It was much the same for the Bow Saint and the Embroidered Uniform Guard, who still hadn’t returned after rooting out the Murong Family’s threat.

A massive army and a small advance unit.

It was obvious which would be slower and which would be faster. And that considerable gap in timing might become the flap of a butterfly’s wings somewhere far away and change a great many things.

Of course, knowing that did nothing to ease his worry for his own flesh and blood.

“It will be dangerous. More than ever before.”

At the sight of Jin Wikyung’s worried expression, my journey so far flashed before my eyes.

Dangerous, huh?

Yeah, of course it would be.

But…

“It always has been. Not once has it been any different, and it won’t be from here on out.”

Looking back, there had never been a time when I wasn’t in danger.

There had never been an easy moment, either.

When I first opened my eyes, I was a tadpole. I struggled to survive and became a frog.

I leaped and leaped with all my might until I escaped the well. Beyond it waited a world incomparably wider and more treacherous than the one I’d left behind.

And at every fork in the road that blocked my way, I had always made a choice.

“It’s the road I chose. I don’t know when I’ll be able to stop, but… I have to keep running. All the way to the end.”

Jin Wikyung was silent for a moment at my matter-of-fact answer. Then he let out a quiet laugh.

“You’ve grown up. Before I knew it, you’d grown so much I hardly recognized you.”

Looking at Jin Wikyung, whose imposing build was enough to make me wonder if he had Hebei Peng blood, I smiled back.

“I’m still not as big as you, hyung¹.”

“Hyung¹. That sounds especially good today. Maybe because it’s been so long since you called me that.”

It wasn’t just because I’d spent so long away. I’d simply needed a little more time to truly accept the new family I’d found in this unfamiliar world.

Even if this body’s true owner wasn’t me.

Right. The real owner—the Jin Family’s Third Young Master—is someone else.

The thought weighed on me, but the familiar face that appeared beside Jin Wikyung a moment later washed it away.

“Oh, would you look at that. Isn’t that our family’s second son?”

At my exaggeratedly wide-eyed look, Jin Mukyung shook his head.

“Here we go again.”

“What? Did I say anything wrong? You are the second son.”

“You conveniently left out the ‘hyung’¹ that’s supposed to come after it.”

“I’ll add it if you want. Beat me first.”

“…You shameless bastard.”

“What, you don’t think you can?”

Jin Mukyung stared at me in disbelief, then gave a short laugh.

“Of course I can. Just wait. I’ll catch up soon.”

“Confidence is good, but don’t expect it to be easy.”

“I know. But you’d better remember one thing, too.”

“What?”

“Until I catch up, don’t let anyone else take you down. Ever.”

“……!”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. Seeing me blink at him in silence, Jin Mukyung seemed to regret what he’d said. He hesitated, then suddenly extended his fist.

Tap.

His slow but solid punch landed against my chest.

Even with the snowstorm raging all around us, warmth spread through the spot where his fist had touched before drawing away.

“Go ahead. This time, I won’t be late. I promise.”

Maybe he was embarrassed to have shown a side of himself he usually kept hidden. Or maybe some emotion had welled up in him.

Whatever the reason, Jin Mukyung turned away after those words. In the direction he headed, more familiar faces were waiting for me.

Wipeng, who had come to see me off despite his grievous injuries.

Lee Seowol, forcing a smile despite the death of her uncle, Cheol Mubaek—the Tiger of Mount Heng—who had been her staunchest guardian and almost another father to her.

The Jin Family of Taiyuan’s senior members, who had served Jin Wikyung with unwavering loyalty and helped him raise the once-declining family into one of the Five Great Families.

The scouts who had once crossed life and death alongside me. The young brother and sister who had grown so much while I was away from the Jin Family of Taiyuan. And countless family retainers whose faces were more familiar than their names.

Every one of them was looking at me.

As I met each person’s eyes, they smiled brightly, nodded quietly, and stamped their feet with such overwhelming emotion that their hearts seemed ready to burst.

Hard and strong. Without anyone having to lead, they stamped the ground, now blanketed in white, and drew their weapons like lightning.

Clang-clang-clang-clang!

Amid hundreds of swaying torches, a dazzling wave of steel lit up everything around us, brighter than the snowstorm pouring down overhead. An aura like wildfire rose and heated the air.

Thud. Thud. Thoom!

The ground shook beneath their vigorous footfalls. My heart, which had gradually settled into a steady rhythm to match them, began to pound. Just then, Jin Wikyung’s quiet voice slipped into my ear.

“Do you see it?”

I didn’t answer.

No—I couldn’t.

I could only listen to Jin Wikyung’s voice echoing around me, my chest trembling deep inside.

“You are our pride.”

“……!”

“Go. Down the road you chose.”

Go forward without hesitation, with all your might.

Hearing the rest of his words swallowed by the fierce snowstorm, I finally moved my feet.

Crunch.

Beneath a roof of countless crossed blades, new footprints began to mark the white snow.

The untimely snowstorm wasn’t confined to Shanxi Province.

The young man had remained silent for a long time, even after his expected guest arrived. Watching the snow whip past the window, he suddenly spoke.

“Long ago—very long ago—someone said something like that to me.”

Across the rough table, the guest sat with perfect composure despite a full shichen—about two hours—of silence.

“You’ve made me curious already. Who was it?”

To anyone who didn’t know them, it would have seemed a strange sight.

The room’s owner was a young man, while his guest looked to be about eighty.

Yet the scar visible beneath the older man’s graying hair spoke of a life spent in secrecy. The same was true of the young man opposite him.

“You know the person, too. I can tell you now, if you want.”

The casual way he addressed the older man came as naturally as breathing.

The Thousand-Faced Fox, Song Ho, lightly declined the Sword Saint Mae Jonghak’s offer.

“I’ll try to guess after I hear what was said. I prefer figuring things out for myself to being given the answer.”

“Wouldn’t most people choose the former?”

“As Chief of the Hidden Shadow Pavilion, shouldn’t I be able to manage at least that much?”

“That’s a fair point.”

“So, what did this person say to you, Alliance Leader?”

Still gazing out the window, Mae Jonghak answered.

“He told me to protect it. The place where I stood, the convictions I held in my heart, and the world.”

“……!”

“I was told to remain here, unchanged, even if that person disappeared one day. Of course, at the time, it sounded like a passing remark, so I didn’t think much of it. That’s all.”

The Thousand-Faced Fox let out a breath he’d been holding.

“I think I know who it was.”

“You do?”

“Yes. As it happens, I believe I heard something similar myself.”

“That person would be pleased to know it. You didn’t take those words lightly. You’ve kept the Hidden Shadow Pavilion’s intelligence network going all this time.”

The Thousand-Faced Fox nodded without a word.

He certainly would have been pleased. Maybe he would even have clapped his hands and burst out laughing.

In Song Ho’s memories, the Martial God seemed to carry every worry in the world, yet at times he could be as innocent as a child.

“There’s something I’d like to ask you.”

“Go ahead, Alliance Leader.”

The Thousand-Faced Fox tensed without meaning to.

He feared that the Number One Sword Under Heaven, now the new symbol of the Central Plains Murim in the Martial God’s place, might waver at the most crucial moment.

But Mae Jonghak’s next words swept that fear away at once.

“When this war is over, what are you going to do?”

“Pardon?”

“No, I just started worrying about you. You hardly get paid for all the work you do. Should I give you a raise now? How about doubling your salary?”

“……!”

“Hmm. Or tripling it? Then you wouldn’t have to worry about retirement.”

The Thousand-Faced Fox stared blankly at Mae Jonghak, frozen like a statue. Then he suddenly burst into a hearty laugh.

When he stopped laughing, he answered.

“Don’t worry about my retirement. If I need to, I can always siphon some money off to the side.”

“Oh. So you already have a plan.”

“Of course.”

“But let’s keep this between the two of us. If our friends outside that door find out, we might get some dirty looks. Don’t you think?”

Mae Jonghak stood without waiting for an answer.

A gust of qi swept through the air and threw open the firmly shut door. Beyond it, dozens of people sat around a massive table.

“I’ll say this up front: as long as the amount is reasonable, I’m willing to turn a blind eye to whatever the Chief of the Hidden Shadow Pavilion does.”

At the first playful remark from a middle-aged man, Mae Jonghak nodded with satisfaction.

“Clever, as always. You know just what to say and when.”

“You’re too kind.”

“Now then, did you complete your mission safely, Family Head Zhuge?”

The middle-aged man, Zhuge Feng—the Crouching Dragon Guest—waved his tattered feather fan.

“Can you see it?”

“Quite clearly.”

“These are the marks of my suffering. I thought I was going to die.”

“Which means…”

“The Zhuge Clan has completed every task assigned to it.”

Exclamations rose from around the room. Everyone present knew what Zhuge Feng had been assigned to do, and how important it was.

And it meant one thing.

All preparations were complete. A new phase was beginning.

“Well, then. Everyone’s going to be busy from here on out.”

The opening act of an all-out war had begun.