Chapter 189
Chapter 189
“Most of them were the ones the Orthodox Sect sent.”
Youngho’s indifferent voice reached Black Shadow’s ears. Youngho’s expression was dry, as if he could not feel anything.
As if he did not feel tension, his eyes were slack and unfocused like someone half-asleep, and he did not even think to wipe the blood off his face.
“Now it’s not just the Nine Sects and One Gang and the Five Great Families—now even the riffraff are laying hands on me…… What should I do?”
Since he was not asking anyone, Black Shadow only stood quietly at Youngho’s side.
As if he had finished thinking, Youngho threw his sword onto the ground, swept aside the torn blanket, and made himself a new place to sleep.
Lying down, Youngho spoke calmly.
“Black Shadow, pluck out these bastards’ eyes, crush them, stuff them into their mouths, then cut off their heads. I’ll handle the rest.”
‘If I put their heads by my bedding, that should count as a warning.’
What kind of reaction would they show? Would they rage? Or would they tremble with fear?
‘Nine in ten odds, they’ll rage.’
Those rotten Orthodox Sect bastards were mostly nothing but swollen pride. Still, once they cooled their heads, they would tremble with fear.
Thinking of the frightened looks that would turn toward him, a low chuckle slipped out of him without meaning to.
And time flowed on like running water.
In the seat that only the Supreme of the Unorthodox Faction and the Lord of the Unorthodox Alliance could sit upon, a man was seated.
And Cheonung, the current Lord, cheered with a delighted laugh.
“Right! That is a challenge to my authority! You are the first disciple I ever took in—now it’s time for you to inherit the Lord’s seat!”
At the sight of Cheonung being happy despite his position being threatened, Cheongsol let out a deep sigh.
For decades, he had served as Cheonung’s Chief Aide. Experience told him plainly: Jeonghyeon had no intention of becoming the Lord.
Instead, Cheongsol found himself thinking he would have to protect Cheonung’s dignity from here on out. Of course, he knew it was impossible, but if he did not even think such thoughts, he felt he would truly end up with pent-up rage.
“Lord, please, preserve your dignity.”
“Chief Aide, I think it’s remarkable enough that the Unorthodox Alliance has pressured the Orthodox Sect.”
“That achievement was not yours, my lord. It was the Fifth Young Master’s.”
“I never said I did it.”
The Hall Masters of each hall and other key figures of the Unorthodox Alliance watched the current situation from the side. Conscious of their gazes, Cheongsol did not speak further—he simply glared sharply at Cheonung.
Under Cheongsol’s stare, which radiated a presence far fiercer than most masters, Cheonung naturally turned his eyes back to Jeonghyeon.
“Jeonghyeon, I believe you are fit to lead the Unorthodox Alliance. So from now on…….”
“Master.”
Jeonghyeon cut him off before his words could go any longer. Resting his chin on his hand while seated in the Supreme’s seat, Jeonghyeon displayed a majesty comparable to the Emperor’s.
He let out no aura at all, yet the atmosphere of a born predator that had lived as one since birth suited the Supreme’s seat perfectly.
And to meet everyone’s expectations, Jeonghyeon spoke with an arrogant smile befitting the Supreme.
“I have grown for far too long under Master’s protection. At least once, I wanted to step outside that protection.”
“Become the Lord.”
“The Lord’s seat is the same. I am not someone who should sit so high that others’ necks grow sore from looking up.”
“Didn’t you say you would not become independent…!”
At Cheonung’s words, bordering on a plea, Jeonghyeon gave a gentle smile.
“Of course that was a lie. War was right in front of us—did I really need to listen to Master’s nagging, too?”
Cheonung’s mouth fell open from the sheer shock.
“……The First Young Master has been far too influenced by the Fifth Young Master.”
Cheongsol’s words from behind voiced what Cheonung felt.
“Th-then what will you do now? Will you truly become an unfilial disciple who leaves this master behind under a mountain of documents and goes?”
“The one buried under a mountain of documents will not be you, Master. It will be Chief Aide Cheongsol, so don’t worry.”
At Jeonghyeon’s words, Cheongsol’s icy stare naturally shot toward Cheonung. Cheonung forced himself to ignore the savage gaze behind him and spoke.
“Then leave everything of the Unorthodox Alliance behind. Only if you set down everything you have can you leave the Unorthodox Alliance.”
At Cheonung’s serious words, Jeonghyeon’s face began to harden. Cheongsol also stepped forward to block Cheonung and spoke.
“Lord.”
“Chief Aide Cheongsol, you had best not stop me.”
“That is not it. You are being far too unsightly.”
“…….”
“Must you cling like this? Rather, ask the Fifth Young Master.”
“Do you think that bastard would do it?”
“He won’t.”
BANG-!
Just as Cheonung was about to collapse in despair at Cheongsol’s words, Youngho slammed the door open and strode inside.
A thick stench of blood poured off Youngho’s body, yet everyone held their tongues. They knew well what kind of end an unorthodox hero faced after a war.
The only difference with Youngho compared to the heroes before him was the belief around him that, though he might be unhappy, he would never die.
Youngho moved with a heavy air of languid annoyance. When he saw Jeonghyeon seated in the Supreme’s seat, he furrowed his brow.
“Why is Senior Brother sitting there?”
“He was staging a protest to leave the Unorthodox Alliance.”
“I thought you became the Lord. But why protest? You can just leave.”
“I could not bring myself to be that rude to Master, who fed me and gave me a place to sleep.”
“Don’t tell me Master is being unsightly and telling you to give up everything you enjoyed in the Unorthodox Alliance before you leave?”
“…….”
“Judging by that reaction, he did. But Senior Brother already saved everyone, didn’t you? And it looked like you already laid all the groundwork for the business.”
“What?”
Cheonung reacted at the speed of light to Youngho’s words.
“You saved everyone? You laid the groundwork for a business?”
Seeing Cheonung’s trembling eyes, Youngho chuckled and said.
“Do you think Senior Brother wouldn’t know Master’s temperament? He already saw this coming and finished all the preparations. Senior Brother can just leave with only his body. The people under him are all packing to follow him too.”
“…….”
“Ah, and I’m leaving too. I’ve seen your face before I go, so I’ll be on my way. I’ll come again later, so stay healthy until then. Hyeon-gang, let’s say goodbye before I leave. Follow me.”
Youngho pulled Hyeon-gang out from the gathered Hall Masters. It was a shock as if a storm had crashed in.
Thanks to Youngho’s antics—something everyone had grown used to—Cheonung and Jeonghyeon, after a brief silence, began battling again to shove the Lord’s seat onto the other.
As Youngho quickly moved away from the noisy place, he clicked his tongue.
“Geez, why did you have to be there of all places.”
“Did you come to see me?”
“Of course. Before I leave, I should say goodbye, shouldn’t I?”
Hyeon-gang’s face twisted like an evil ghost.
“You know you’re not fully healed yet, right?”
“I was all healed. No matter how much it was the Heavenly Demon’s demonic energy, could it beat my refined internal energy?”
“Putting on airs at a time like this won’t—!”
“It’s true. If you want, take my pulse.”
When Youngho held out his arm, Hyeon-gang froze.
‘Why is he this confident?’
It was confident enough that it almost made him think Youngho truly was healed. But physicians were a breed that revisited even the smallest odds.
A physician down to the marrow, Hyeon-gang hid his fluster and took Youngho’s pulse, inspecting his body carefully.
After observing as if he meant to examine even the finest blood vessels, Hyeon-gang gave a weak laugh, released his grip, and let Youngho’s arm go.
“He really is fully healed? How did you do it? You barely had any time to recover.”
“Because I’m the Greatest Under Heaven.”
“……You’re insufferable.”
“Enough. Just walk.”
After walking for about Half a Dakyung, Youngho felt countless resentful eyes on him.
“Ahem!”
Giving a light fake cough, Youngho spoke with an expression that could not hide his awkwardness.
“I’m your master.”
“So you’re not beating us, are you?”
At Kang Hosan’s words, everyone nodded in agreement.
“I said I’ll come by every spring and autumn, didn’t I?”
“I’ll bet one nyang of gold that you come once a year.”
“I’ll bet two nyang of gold that you suddenly show up in five years.”
As the Asura Squad whispered among themselves, Youngho let out a disbelieving laugh.
“Do you guys have that much money?”
“Thanks to you, Young Master.”
At Kang Chowon’s teasing voice, Youngho smiled back.
“Your brother joined in too, and you can still smile?”
At that, Kang Chowon’s gaze immediately shifted to Kang Hosan. Not only Kang Hosan—Elder Hyeok and Horyeung had also joined the bet.
Muyeon, who had set up the pot, cackled with plans of making money. In the familiar atmosphere, Youngho let out a small laugh.
“I really will come twice a year. I’ll stay about a week, so don’t worry.”
“No, when are you going to become the Lord?!”
When Jongpal spoke from the side, Youngho asked with a fed-up face.
“How much did the Lord pay you?”
“Five nyang of gold.”
“Since you answered honestly, spar with Chowon once.”
“Thank you for your broad generosity.”
Having instantly caught the planted hype-man Cheonung had arranged, Youngho spoke as if everyone here was insane.
“Five years.”
At Youngho’s words, everyone’s movements stopped. Muyeon, whose eyes had been wide with thoughts of raking in money; Myeongnyang, who had been chuckling while holding his child; and the hundred-odd people including Kang Hosan, who had lost an eye and wore an eye patch—everyone turned their eyes to Youngho.
“I’ll come back within five years.”
“……Are you promising?”
At Hyeon-gang’s heavy question, Youngho matched him with a solemn expression.
“I will come back. There are people I need to find, and more than anything, for about the next year, I need to clean up the bastards who are targeting me.”
Reading the mood, Myeongnyang sent the child back to a room. Thanks to that, Youngho could speak comfortably.
“I don’t want petty gratitude and grudges to put me and those around me in danger. So I’m going to erase everything connected to the ones who came to kill me.”
It was chillingly cruel. By Youngho’s temperament, he would not lay a hand on women or children, but if needed, he would not hesitate to take lives.
Revenge.
Anyone in the martial world carried vengeance, and anyone could be struck by vengeance in turn.
And Youngho was saying he would remove the source completely.
“Of course, the Orthodox Sect will end with a warning. I’ll only touch the unorthodox side.”
“Ah, then that’s a relief.”
At Youngho’s declaration, everyone’s faces, which had been stiff, softened.
“Unorthodox bastards are the only ones who deserve to die anyway, so it’s fine.”
“From the start, there was no need to worry. You never cross the line, Young Master.”
At those trusting words, Youngho chuckled and said.
“Yeah. Then I’m off. What’s the point of dragging it out?”
“That’s true.”
“Let’s end it cleanly?”
At the words to end it as if it were nothing, no one objected. It was a little regretful, but that was all.
Because Youngho kept his promises. If he said he would return in five years, he would return.
It was only that the waiting would be longer than usual.
The trust Youngho had built persuaded them with a single sentence—and also gave them expectation.
The Youngho they knew, the more they missed him, the more he gave them something that was joyful and yet absurdly unbelievable.
Believing it would be the same this time, they held their ground. And time flowed on and on, until before they knew it, it had drawn close to the promised span of five years.
“Ghk! Ngh!”
A filthy child, so caked with grime that his face could not be recognized, was being beaten by several people.
He covered his head with his hands and curled up, trying to be hit as little as possible—pitiful beyond measure, yet that was all it was.
Those who struggled just to live each day were busy with their own work and could not afford the leeway to help someone else.
When it was hard enough just to look after one’s own body, who had the luxury to help another?
The ordinary yet wretched-looking slash-and-burn village did not hide its gloomy atmosphere.
“You animal! You stole and ate the acorns I gathered?!”
THUD!
The boy who had been stolen from kicked the filthy child in the abdomen and snapped.
“If you covet my things again, you’ll really die next time.”
Even at the savage voice, the filthy child only let out faint breaths.
The boy apparently had not expected an answer; he turned around and left with his friends.
Left alone, the filthy child steadied his breathing for a moment, then slowly stood up.
It hurt. His ankle throbbed, and the abdomen that had been kicked still held a sharp, tingling pain.
Enduring pain no child should have been able to bear, the child did not even think to brush the dust from his clothes, and wandered again in search of food.
He begged as much as he could, and if that did not work, he stole food. But with his weakened body, it was hard to flee while carrying food, so before it could be snatched from his hands, he crammed everything into his mouth.
Even as a man screamed at him to hand it over and kicked him, the child poured as much as he could into his stomach.
This was how the child spent a day—and the kind of day he would have to endure for his whole life.
One day, the child came down with a severe fever and chills so bad he could not move.
He was in no state to beg, let alone steal food, so he thought this would be the day his death arrived.
Sensing death, the child cried. As tears that had stopped coming out at some point began to flow, it felt as if the pain crushing his chest only worsened.
Then a young man handed the child a sweet confection and asked.
“Kid, what’s your name?”
Normally he would not have answered, but the child unknowingly tensed his belly and forced his voice up.
It was a small voice, yet the young man showed a satisfied smile and grinned.
Looking at that beautiful smile, the child thought: the reason he had answered was because the being before him looked too noble—because he had been overwhelmed by such beauty and replied without thinking.
“Kid—no.”
The beautiful young man, as if his throat had tightened for a moment, moved his lips, then spoke.
“Seojeong, won’t you follow me? If you follow me, I’ll give you food. I can also give you clean clothes. And I have a lot of money, and I’m good at fighting. I can protect you.”
The beautiful young man suddenly rambled as he tried to persuade the child. It was the warmth of care he had felt in a long time, so the child—who called himself Yoon Seojeong—asked.
“……Who… are you?”
“The ones who know me call me a devil. The ones who don’t call me this.”
For some reason, the young man looked at him with eyes sunk in sorrow and said.
“Martial God. My name is Youngho.”
By stopping the Heavenly Demon, Youngho had brought peace to the martial world. But the information he had gained through Regression / Time Regression was no longer useful, and he could not even guess what future would unfold.
He had always wanted peace, yet in a stabilized world, Youngho felt a sense of dissonance. And he realized: as long as he lived, there would be no more bloodshed in the martial world.
And so he was glad. Walking into a stable future looked far more enjoyable than he had thought.
Youngho would carve open this newly born future together with his lovely disciple, who could not take his eyes off the sweet confection in Youngho’s hand.
He would walk, and walk, and walk again. Youngho vowed he would walk a future that was never meant to exist.
The story of the regressed Sword Demon had ended, but Youngho’s story was set to continue a little longer.