Chapter 25
Chapter 25
‘Impressive.’
Youngho thought as he handed Tanyeong over to another martial artist of Hainan.
‘He took quite a lot.’
Youngho had bestowed instruction upon Tanyeong—instruction in the form known as the State of No-Self. Even so, one only gained as much as one could perceive.
Tanyeong had advanced deeper than the State of No-Self to which Youngho had originally guided him, attaining an even greater enlightenment.
He might end up becoming a little stronger than he had been in his days as the Sword King.
‘If things go well, he might even contend with Namgung Cheon of the future.’
Of course, that too would depend entirely on Tanyeong’s own mindset.
‘Once I get on the carriage, I should get some sleep.’
Youngho was not of the same sect as Tanyeong, yet he had been forced to stand guard—something he had not wanted to do—by Cheonung’s order, leaving him somewhat exhausted.
-You stand guard as well. Is Pungdeok all right?
-He’s perfectly fine.
At those few words, Youngho had ultimately ended up standing guard over Tanyeong together with the other disciples of the Hainan Sect.
‘I don’t know what he was thinking, but I probably scored some points, right?’
If not, then so be it.
It was just as Youngho was about to board the carriage to depart.
“Hey.”
A thoroughly unpleasant voice came from behind him. Knowing exactly who the owner of that voice was, Youngho could not help but deeply furrow his brow.
Seeing that expression, Baekcheong glared at Youngho with visible displeasure and spoke.
“Why was it you who got summoned by Master yesterday?”
At those words, Youngho curled his lips into a smile as if a good idea had occurred to him.
“Because I’m far better than you. If you really asked out of pure curiosity, that’s honestly disappointing.”
Grit.
Baekcheong ground his teeth fiercely as he spoke.
“Watch your arrogance.”
“If you’ve got nothing more to say, I’m leaving.”
“My question isn’t finished yet.”
“Oh, is that so? My answer is finished, so I’ll be going.”
Youngho quickly stepped into the carriage. At Youngho’s attitude—one that showed not the slightest shred of courtesy toward a senior brother—Baekcheong stared at the carriage with eyes filled with killing intent.
‘Why him!’
When Cheonung had introduced his disciple to the Sect Leader of Hainan, he had called only Youngho.
Leaving aside Baekcheong himself, the third disciple who had been accepted earlier.
‘Why was that bastard summoned by Master!’
It should have been him. And it should have been him who crossed hands with that fellow called Tanyeong.
Baekcheong had secretly watched the entire sparring match yesterday. That was why his anger burned all the more fiercely.
It was a fact he did not want to acknowledge, but Youngho possessed a vessel far more befitting of the Lord of the Unorthodox Alliance than he himself did.
But still!
‘I can’t accept it!’
As if he ever would!
Even if his own goal was not to become the Lord of the Unorthodox Alliance, it made no sense that he was inferior to Youngho.
Unable to restrain the thick killing intent boiling within him, Baekcheong trudged back toward his own carriage.
Having glimpsed that scene, Sopyung spoke to Youngho in a trembling voice.
“Y-Young Master, you’ll be all right, won’t you?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”
“No, not me. I mean you, Young Master. Is it really okay to provoke the Third Young Master like that?”
At those words, Horyeung let out a snort of laughter without realizing it. It was so quiet that Sopyung did not notice, but the others reacted much the same as Horyeung.
Sensing the strange atmosphere and glancing around, Sopyung prompted Youngho to give a bit of an explanation.
“Sopyung. Have you ever seen a tiger being attacked by a rabbit?”
“Huh? How could that even happen? Are there rabbit spirit beasts too?”
“There probably are… but that’s not the point. You’re worrying too much right now. Just think of it like this—I’m the tiger, and that Baekcheong guy is the rabbit.”
“Young Master, you’re stronger than the Third Young Master?!”
Sopyung exclaimed in shock, making Horyeung feel his mouth itch to speak. Youngho shot him a glance telling him not to say anything, then spoke to Sopyung.
“Even the First Senior Brother can’t beat me anymore.”
“Young Master, honestly! That can’t be right. I know you’re trying to ease my nerves, but you shouldn’t be so overconfident! For a martial artist, arrogance is a deadly poison—deadly poison!”
Those listening to Sopyung’s words looked at her with affectionate smiles.
“Don’t worry, Sopyung.”
“So… that means you’re already strong enough as you are, right, Young Master?”
“Of course.”
“That’s a relief, at least.”
“Your master is a monster, so instead of worrying about trivial things, think about what you want to do at the Dragon–Phoenix Gathering. There’ll be plenty to see.”
“Are you going too, Young Master?”
“Why would I bother?”
“What? You’re not going? Young Master, you need to make memories too!”
Youngho was about to retort that he wasn’t a child and what memories there were to make, when he suddenly realized he was eighteen years old.
“Oh right. I’m eighteen, aren’t I?”
“Did you think you were a sixty-year-old grandfather or something?”
“I’ve lived about that long.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing. I’m going to sleep, so wake me when we reach the inn.”
“Okay!”
With those words, Youngho fell asleep.
On a road swarming with people, numerous martial artists entered the inn.
Those inside the inn reacted in roughly two ways upon seeing them.
Common people who lowered their eyes, wanting nothing to do with it. And martial artists who, unable to restrain their hot blood, stared one another down.
In a situation where a fight could break out at any moment, the inn attendant forced himself to ignore his pounding heart as he served food to the guests.
Then, in an inn so quiet it could be called silent, an unpleasant voice rang out.
“Why are those filthy Iron Fist Sect dogs here?”
As someone openly picked a fight, the inn attendant involuntarily squeezed his eyes shut.
In the end, what should never have happened, happened.
The Iron Fist Sect.
Anyone with even a passing interest in Jianghu had a high chance of knowing that sect.
Under the patronage of the Unorthodox Alliance, the Iron Fist Sect had recently produced an Transcendent Peak Master and was boasting tremendous might.
But that was not the important part.
‘Why pick a fight! Why!’
The ones who provoked people quietly eating their meal were none other than the Azure Sword Sect of the Orthodox Sect.
The Azure Sword Sect was founded by a disciple from the secular lineage of Mount Hua, and rumors had recently spread that their Sect Leader had reached the Transcendent Peak Master.
Of course, unlike the Iron Fist Sect, this was nothing more than a rumor, but the fact that there were disciples bold enough to openly pick a fight with the Iron Fist Sect made it seem likely to be true.
The Azure Sword Sect was clearly of the Orthodox Sect, yet the inn attendant was cursing the Azure Sword Sect, which would recklessly start trouble without taking responsibility, rather than the Iron Fist Sect, which was an Unorthodox faction.
‘L-look at those eyes.’
Eyes desperate to become wandering heroes. Damn them.
It was something that happened every Dragon–Phoenix Gathering, but the saying “what if” did not exist for no reason.
The inn attendant was not a martial artist. If he were struck by a stray blade, he would die—without being able to defend himself, without being able to react.
At some point, the inn attendant had retreated into the kitchen, watching this hair-trigger situation unfold.
A disciple of the Iron Fist Sect slowly rose from his seat and spoke.
“So if it’s dirty, does that mean we’re not even allowed to eat at an inn? If that’s the case, then even the Murim Alliance Leader wouldn’t be welcome here.”
At those words, people began to panic. Even common people knew well the filthy hypocrisy of the Orthodox Sect.
No matter what, to bring up the Alliance Leader—touching the Murim Alliance Leader, the very core of the Orthodox Sect—could be seen as saying, ‘Do you want to start another Orthodox–Demonic War?’
Even the Azure Sword Sect disciple seemed not to have expected the Iron Fist Sect to say something like that, and could only gape repeatedly, unsure what to do.
But just as he realized that staying silent might be taken as agreement with the Iron Fist Sect’s words, and was about to shout—
“Could you step aside for a moment?”
Someone spoke to the Azure Sword Sect disciple.
“If you intend to go in, then go in. If not, it would be appreciated if you stepped aside.”
It was a calm, pleasant voice, like the sound of gentle waves.
At that, the Azure Sword Sect disciple reflexively turned around.
“Even after seeing this situation—!”
He froze in shock upon seeing the banner of the Unorthodox Alliance behind the man.
‘T-the Lord of the Unorthodox Alliance?’
No—on closer inspection, it did not seem to be that. The carriage of the Lord of the Unorthodox Alliance, while similar in scale, was somewhat more extravagant.
Momentarily intimidated by a carriage luxurious enough to be mistaken for that of the Lord of the Unorthodox Alliance, the Azure Sword Sect disciple soon straightened his shoulders again.
‘Still, the fact that they belong to the Unorthodox Alliance doesn’t change.’
A good idea struck him, and the Azure Sword Sect disciple puffed out his chest and spoke arrogantly.
“Are you a person of the Unorthodox Alliance?”
“Yes. At the very least, I belong to the Unorthodox Alliance.”
Seeing how unexpectedly polite the man was, the Azure Sword Sect disciple felt a flicker of confusion, but there was something more important at hand.
“The Iron Fist Sect insulted the Murim Alliance Leader, who has protected Jianghu for hundreds of years! If the Iron Fist Sect does not issue an official apology, the Azure Sword Sect will recognize the Iron Fist Sect as an enemy!”
This had been his intention from the start. The Sect Master himself had ordered him to provoke them.
At that moment, a chilling light flickered in the man’s—no, Youngho’s—eyes.
“Are you asking me to mediate?”
“That’s right! State the position of the Unorthodox Alliance!”
Faced with such an absurd situation, Youngho let out a hollow laugh.
“A mere disciple of a secular sect thinks he can issue commands to the Unorthodox Alliance?”
He said it quietly enough that no one else could hear, but Horyeung alone caught his voice.
“Young Master.”
“Horyeung, stay still. It looks like I’ll have to mediate.”
Shaking off Horyeung’s hand, Youngho spoke.
“So who started the trouble first?”
“We judged that it was improper for the filthy dogs of the Unorthodox Faction to be inside this inn.”
“So you started the trouble first?”
“Aren’t your words a bit too short?”
“Stop rambling and answer clearly. Who started the trouble?”
“We judged that the Iron Fist Sect being present here was improper—”
“Hah….”
A deep sigh from Youngho spread throughout the inn.
“So in short, you’re saying you started the trouble first, right?”
“That’s—!”
Just as the Azure Sword Sect disciple tried to argue, Youngho cut him off.
“And it makes sense for a mere secular sect to run its mouth at the Unorthodox Alliance?”
“What are you—!”
At that instant, a wine bottle from the Iron Fist Sect’s table flew into Youngho’s hand.
In a flash, Youngho gripped the bottle by the neck and smashed it straight down onto the man’s head.
Bang!
A dull sound rang out—so heavy that one might wonder whether such a noise could really come from a human head—making people flinch involuntarily.
“You bastard! You start the fight first and then pull this shit?!”
Youngho glared savagely at the Azure Sword Sect disciples as he spoke.
“If you can take responsibility, then pick fights all you want. But if you can’t, don’t start them in the first place. Got it?”
Overwhelmed by the scene, the Azure Sword Sect disciples nodded without realizing it.
“Hey, you Iron Fist Sect brat. Come here.”
The one Youngho pointed at hesitated for a moment with a ‘is this really okay?’ expression, then shuffled toward him.
“No matter how tense things have been between the Orthodox and Unorthodox factions lately, you can’t go dragging the Alliance Leader into it. Don’t do that next time. A real war could break out.”
“Y-Yes!”
Seeing how rigid with discipline the disciple had become, Youngho nodded and said,
“Go.”
“Yes! Thank you!”
There was a reason they took Youngho’s words so seriously.
‘Object Grasping Through the Void!’
‘At an age where he’s barely coming of age, and already Transcendent Peak?’
‘Just how incredible must his internal energy control be to perform Object Grasping Through the Void that fast!’
In Jianghu, strength was truth. Without strength, one lost the right to speak—and even basic human dignity.
And ever since arriving at the Dragon–Phoenix Gathering, Youngho had been experiencing situations like this repeatedly.
“Inn attendant.”
“Y-Yes, sir!”
Having witnessed Youngho’s martial might, the inn attendant rushed over to him like an arrow.
“Are there any rooms left?”
“I’m sorry. All the rooms here are fully occupied.”
“What about the annex?”
“Yes, those are full as well.”
“Got it. Here, the wine bottle.”
Youngho handed over the bottle he had just smashed against the Azure Sword Sect disciple.
“I protected it with internal energy, so it didn’t break.”
“Th-thank you.”
“I’m leaving.”
As Youngho exited the inn, he spoke.
“Hosan. How many times is this now?”
“Five times.”
“No, why are people so damn rude?”
Youngho had just experienced the same thing yet again—something he had already gone through at five other inns. This made it the sixth time, and his irritation was boiling over.
With an expression utterly fed up, Youngho deeply furrowed his brow and said,
“Forget it. Even if it’s expensive, let’s just quickly get a room anywhere.”
“Do you have the money?”
“Are you saying the Gold-Blood Hall doesn’t have money?”
“…….”
Do you have any conscience at all?
Kang Chowon forcibly swallowed the words she desperately wanted to say.