Chapter 11
Lately, a strange current had been flowing through the Central Plains of the continent, centering around the regions of Shaanxi, Henan, and Hubei.
Villages were vanishing overnight, and underworld factions were on the rise—each sign unmistakably a harbinger of danger.
Even the escort bureau operated by the Namgoong Clan had suffered an attack while passing through Henan, ambushed by a group of black-path martial artists and incurring losses.
Namgoong Mucheon ordered the Secret Wind Sword Corps to investigate the incident. During their inquiry, they obtained intelligence regarding a secret deal between Shaolin and Mount Hua.
“We couldn’t determine why Mount Hua and Shaolin would conduct such a transaction, but...”
Seop Mugwang scratched the bridge of his nose and let out a low groan.
“This so-called ‘Black Cloud Sect’ turned out to be nothing special. A little runt was enough to throw them into chaos. For them to defeat Mount Hua’s elite and steal the goods... there must’ve been someone else involved—”
Seop Mugwang, in the middle of his report, abruptly stopped speaking.
Something was off.
Even though he was reporting a matter of significance, Namgoong Mucheon’s reaction was strangely indifferent.
“Clan Head?”
Seop Mugwang waved his hand in front of Namgoong Mucheon’s eyes.