Return of the Mount Hua

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The firmly shut door opened cautiously.

“Um……”

A child. The little attendant*, his rosy cheeks full of vitality, cautiously poked his head through the crack in the open door. His eyes shone with curiosity, a faint trace of fear, and a timid resolve.

But in the next instant, the attendant’s face twisted abruptly. The moment he stuck his head in, a pungent smell stabbed at his nose.

“Ugh, it reeks of alcohol!”

Clamping a hand over his nose, the boy hurriedly jerked his head back out the door and took several deep breaths. Then he threw the door wide open to let the harsh scent of liquor filling the room escape. Only after opening and closing the door for quite a while to air the smell out did he finally step cautiously inside.

“G-Great Uncle**…?”

Silence. In the dark room, several empty liquor bottles lay scattered about, and here and there were stains where spilled alcohol had dried up. 

‘…What a mess.’

And yet the bed, where a person ought to have been, was completely empty.

“Uh….”

Flustered, the boy scratched the back of his head.

‘I’m sure they said he would be here…!’

Tilting his head as he pondered, he suddenly caught a sound. It was the sound of loud snoring. Startled, he whipped his head around. Only when he looked closely did he finally see it. In one shadowed corner of the room where the bottles were strewn about, someone was sprawled out on the floor. Jus like spilled liquor.

Letting out a short exclamation of surprise, the attendant hurried over to the person lying there. But he had to clutch his little nose again.

“Ugh!”

This awful stench of alcohol was not coming from the floor, but from this person!

After shaking his head for a moment, the boy steeled his resolve and carefully opened his mouth.

“S-Sir.”

Snore – only the sound of snoring came back.

“You have to take your medicine. They said the time you promised has almost come. Great Uncle? Sir!”

Snore.

“Uh… He’s not waking up?”

The attendant did not know what to do. The elders had repeatedly urged him to wake his Great Uncle no matter what and bring him along.

“Um…”

After much deliberation, he cautiously reached out and tried shaking the man’s shoulder.

“Great Uncle? Sir?”

When there was no response, more and more strength went into the little hand shaking the shoulder. Still, no response came back. In the end, the attendant grabbed the man with both hands and shook him with all the strength he had.

“Sir! They said you have to get up! Sir……..”

Whoosh!

At that very moment, a large hand shot up violently in front of the boy’s face. Startled, the he froze stiff on the spot.

Thump!

The man’s large hand came to rest gently on the boy’s head.

“……Jopyeong, is that you?”

“Yes! Yes, Great Uncle!”

“Why did they send you?”

“The elders told me to escort you back!”

The attendant, Tang Jopyeong, answered bravely. A faint chuckle slipped from the mouth of the man lying sprawled there. Little Tang Jopyeong could not tell, but it was unmistakably scornful. The man muttered quietly.

“Pathetic bastards.”

Most likely, since they had not had the courage to wake him themselves, they had deliberately sent a child instead.

“Y-You have to get up……”

“Yes. I know.”

With a low groan, the man pushed himself upright. His whole body creaked, and the inside of his throat felt rough and parched. It seemed he had drunk more than he had thought the night before.

Tang Jopyeong merely looked at the man with eyes full of wonder. No matter how he looked at him, the man seemed only about his father’s age. And yet he was actually old enough to be called a grandfather.

‘Martial arts truly are remarkable.’

They said that martial artists who had reached a high realm looked younger than their true age, but even among the Tang Clan, where martial artists were everywhere, this man looked especially young for his years. Staring at him openly, Tang Jopyeong spoke with a slight air of caution. In contrast to that caution, his words were crisp and direct.

“They say drinking too much is bad for the body.”

“……Yes. I suppose it is.”

“And this liquor smells really awful. The kind my father drinks isn’t like this…”

Tang Jopyeong frowned, yet perhaps out of curiosity, picked up one of the liquor bottles rolling about on the floor. He tried to sniff it, but before it even reached his nose, the bottle slipped from his hand and was swiftly snatched into the man’s grasp.

“Don’t, little one. You’ll get addicted.”

“A-Addicted?”

“Yes.”

Not addicted to alcohol, but to poison. It was a poisoned liquor he had made himself by mixing toxins into a brew, because ordinary alcohol would never intoxicate him. A poison liquor [독주(毒酒)] in the most literal sense of the word. Since he already had the bottle in hand, the man tipped it back and gulped down the liquor.

“Y-You have to go.”

“Mmm.”

After washing down his parched throat with a mouthful of liquor, the man roughly swept his fallen bangs back. In the darkness, his strangely weary gaze revealed itself.

“Great Uncle……”

“All right, all right. Stop pestering me.”

The man let out a faint laugh. If some other fool had come to hurry him along, he would have smashed their chattering mouth to pieces, but this little brat was impossible to deal with. The Tang Clan bastards must have known that too and sent this child. Honestly, a pack of idiots who could not even act their age.

“Fine. Let’s go. Who was it you said was waiting?”

“Ah, but!”

When the man tilted his head in confusion and asked, ‘Huh?’ Tang Jopyeong pinched his nose and said.

“You have to wash up first. They told me I had to make sure you washed and then escort you back. I have to make sure!”

“…”

❀ ❀ ❀

The atmosphere was grim. Paeng Manwi’s [팽만위(彭滿威)] expression was so menacing that it seemed it could not grow any fiercer.

“Father, this is those bastards looking down on us.”

“That’s right, Brother! No matter what, how can this be acceptable? It has already been one sijin!”

Though angry voices rang out one after another from both sides, Paeng Manwi maintained his silence.

One sijin was not such a terribly long time. But it was excessive for making someone wait. And when the side that set the time was the other side, and those waiting for the person to appear numbered well over several hundred? In such a case, calling it merely ‘excessive’ would not be enough – ‘atrocious’ would be more fitting. And if one were to take into account the status of Paeng Manwi, who was being made to wait, then ‘atrocious’ would in turn have to be changed to ‘outrageous’ to do it justice.

As Paeng Manwi stood there in silence with a hardened face, sparks flared in his eyes. At last, his mouth opened.

“……I had heard that the prestige of the Ilsu Talmyeong [일수탈명(一手奪命) – One Strike – One life (taken)], was formidable, but I never realized he was so formidable that he would make the one he had an appointment with wait a full sijin.”

His voice, imbued with inner energy, resounded thunderously. It was both a warning and a protest. A few of those who had been fidgeting awkwardly with troubled expressions quietly averted their gazes. In the end, one of those standing across from him finally opened his mouth with a deeply embarrassed expression.

“If you would just wait a little longer…….”

“Should I take this as not only an insult to me, but to the Paeng Family as well?”

Several faces turned pale in an instant. But there was nothing they could properly say in response. After all, this was no one else but Bugsan Maengho Paeng Manwi, [북산맹호(北山猛虎) – Fierce Tiger of the Northern Mountain], and he was by no means a man who could be slighted like this.

He was a Dao [도(刀) – a heavy blade] master counted among the foremost even within the Hebei Paeng Family, who were said to wield the finest dao under heaven. To slight such a man was no different from disrespecting the entire Hebei Paeng Family. And to make matters worse, Paeng Manwi was also the younger brother of the current head of the Paeng Family, so what more was there to say?

“I want an answer. Does the Tang Clan truly wish to become irreconcilable enemies with the Paeng Family?”

The faces of those confronting him grew even paler.

“We came all the way here from Hebei! From Hebei, no less!”

“…”

“In the first place, this matter did not even arise from any fault of the Paeng Family! And yet, when it was proposed that the issue be settled through a duel with Ilsu Talmyeong, we came all the way here from distant Hebei – so just how lofty a place is the Sichuan Tang Clan, that they dare treat the Hebei Paeng Family with such discourtesy?”

Those who no longer had a word to say even if they had ten mouths lowered their heads deeply.

“If you have even the slightest sense of dignity and honor, should you not at least drag the man here at once! Or are you conspiring together now to humiliate us?”

“I-It is not like that, Paeng Daehyeop.”

“If not, then what is it supposed to be?!”

Even more enraged by the hasty denial, Paeng Manwi glared with the eyes of a beast. Startled, the others involuntarily let out anxious sighs one after another.

If they could have dragged him here, they would have done so long ago. But the person who was supposed to appear here now was not someone they could do anything about. Even within the Sichuan Tang Clan, which operated with strict family laws and iron discipline, he was the one and only existence ‘outside the rules.’

“He will be here very soon, so please just a little longer…”

“How long exactly are we expected to wait! I will no longer…”

It was right at that moment.

“H-He’s coming! He’s here!”

“The Elder is coming!”

At the cry that burst out from one side, several of the Tang Clan members who had gone deathly pale let out sighs of relief. A few of them even muttered curses under their breath. It was fortunate, at least, that even Paeng Manwi’s gaze had turned that way, so he did not hear them.

The gathered crowd parted to either side, opening a path. Along it, one man strolled forward at an unhurried pace. Soon, Paeng Manwi’s face began to twist.

His clothes had been thrown on carelessly, and his hair, perhaps washed only a moment ago, still dripped with water. On top of that, his gait was so leisurely that his reluctance was plain to see. No matter how one looked at him, this was not the appearance of a man coming to engage in an important duel.

Nor could it be taken for oversleeping. Because… if he was not mistaken, the smell now stabbing at his nose was the scent of liquor. A vile stench of alcohol, so strong that even after going into the bathing room he had not managed to wash it away. That man had spent the entire previous night pouring liquor down his throat, had only just now managed to get up, and appeared at last with obvious reluctance. And this, no less, on the eve of his duel with him. Enraged, Paeng Manwi bit down on his lower lip as if to tear it.

‘How dare he…!’

It felt as though his blood surged backward, his entire body burning hot. Even grinding his teeth, it was difficult to suppress his fury. In all his life, this was the first time he had ever been so slighted by someone.

His younger brother and son, who had accompanied him, kept watching him warily. But the very man who had provoked Paeng Manwi’s wrath showed not the slightest change in expression, even though he must surely have felt the surging force of his rage.

Thud, thud. 

The sound of footsteps rang out slowly. Only after what felt, to the others – and especially to Paeng Manwi – like an eternity long enough to stop one’s breath did the man finally come to a halt.

The man’s gaze, as though looking down on him, stirred even greater fury within him, but Paeng Manwi forced it down and spoke.

“Ilsu Talmyeong… or rather, these days I hear you are more often called by the title Bido Mujeok, [비도무적(飛刀無敵) – Unrivaled Flying Dagger]?”

The man gave no reply and merely stared at Paeng Manwi.

“I came rushing all the way to the distant Sichuan with a heart that held a certain admiration for you, and yet it seems that compared to your skill, your character falls short. You arrive more than one sijin late, and not even a single word of apology?”

Paeng Manwi revealed a killing intent that would not ordinarily be tolerated in a duel. But no one dared blame him for it. The pride of a powerful martial artist naturally ought to pierce the heavens. And yet he had been so openly disregarded. Even if this were to become a fight to the death, he had ample justification for it.

“Today, I will make it known clearly to all under heaven that your reputation is nothing but hollow fame [허명(虛名)]!”

Paeng Manwi spit out his words. It was a justified and truly menacing declaration, but the man’s response was brusque.

“Done talking?”

“……What?”

“Then stop flapping your mouth and come at me.”

“How dare you…!”

“How can you be this insolent!”

Paeng Manwi’s younger brother and son cried out in outrage. Unexpectedly, Paeng Manwi himself remained silent, but that was not because he had kept his composure. Rather, his fury had risen so high it left him momentarily speechless.

Staring fiercely at the man in front of him, Paeng Manwi silently gripped his dao. By now, enough justification had piled up that he could have broken off the duel itself and demanded accountability from the Tang Clan for letting matters deteriorate to this point. Perhaps that might even have been the far wiser course.

But Paeng Manwi had not the slightest intention of doing so. Unless he beat that insolent wretch down with his own blade, it felt as though his anger would not subside even in ten years. As if to harden that resolve, the man threw out yet another remark.

“Honor? A pack of fools too immature to act their age turned a children’s quarrel into a fight between adults, and now you talk about honor. What ridiculous nonsense.”

“…”

“I don’t feel like wasting time, so come at me. I’ll teach you your place.”

How could anyone be so arrogant? Paeng Manwi felt it keenly. In the man’s gaze, looking down at him with his chin slightly tipped up, there was blatant contempt. That bastard clearly had not the slightest thought that he himself might lose.

‘I’ll kill him.’

Paeng Manwi slowly drew his blade. A heavy sound rang out. Even within the Hebei Paeng Family, who used dadao [대도(大刀)], his was counted among the largest and heaviest. Drawing it with one hand, Paeng Manwi clenched the hilt tightly and at the same time flung the scabbard he had been holding in his other hand onto the ground.

Several people’s eyes widened in shock. For a swordsman to cast aside his scabbard carried an all too obvious meaning. It was something that could never happen in a mere duel.

But who would dare criticize Paeng Manwi’s actions? The man across from him had been just that rude.

Gripping the dao in both hands, Paeng Manwi glared with blazing eyes and roared.

“Ilsu Talmyeong…. Tang Bo [당보(當步)]!”

It was a roar akin to a beast’s howl.

“Today I will teach you what courtesy is!”

Kwaang! 

The moment he stamped down, a thunderous crash rang out. There was no opening stance, no customary exchange of names and origins. Which meant this duel was no different from real combat. Bugsan Maengho Paeng Manwi charged at the man like an enraged tiger living up to his title.

The ferocious tiger of the Northern Mountain. How many demonic foes had lost their lives beneath his blade, and how many wicked sapas of the Evil Sects had been cut clean through at the waist? When the name Ilsu Talmyeong had done no more than rampage through Sichuan – no, even before that – Bugsan Maengho had already made his name known throughout the Central Plains. By age and by fame alike, his defeat made no sense.

From the tip of Paeng Manwi’s dao, blazing balde energy burst forth like fire. The condensed energy surged wildly, carving five spiraling currents through the air.

“Huh! Th-That is…!”

Voices of shock rang out from the mouths of several Tang Clan elders.

Ohodan Mundo [오호단문도(五虎斷門刀)***]. It was the signature ultimate art of the Hebei Paeng Family, said that at its peak it took on the form of five tigers lunging at once. The blade energy before them proved beyond doubt that Paeng Manwi’s Ohodan Mundo had indeed reached its highest peak, and that his martial prowess far surpassed what the world knew of him.

“Haaahhh!”

The enormous blade energy came raging down as though it would tear Tang Bo’s entire body to shreds. He was, quite literally, like a fallen leaf before a typhoon!

But at that moment, one corner of Tang Bo’s mouth curled up slightly.

Kang! 

With a sharp metallic clash, Paeng Manwi’s dao, which had been flying in with unstoppable force, was suddenly knocked back as though it had collided with something. Paeng Manwi’s eyes flew wide open.

His dao was a havier weapon among the various heavy weapons [중병(重兵)], weighing no less than fifty geun by itself. If one had the strength to swing it, its weight alone was enough to crush solid iron as though it were tofu. And yet that heavy weapon had been forced back.

By a tiny flying dagger [비도(飛刀)] no longer than a woman’s palm!

‘H-How can this be….’

Kagagak!

Sparks flew as metal collided with metal. The flying dagger was spinning as it shoved Paeng Manwi’s dao aside. Even as he watched it happen, it was hard to believe that such a tiny blade could produce such terrifying force.

“Urgh, ugh!”

But this was no time to be shocked. Paeng Manwi could not afford to be pushed back like this. If that happened, not only he but the entire Paeng Family would be disgraced for generations.

Paeng Manwi pushed out every last bit of strength he possessed and unleashed his inner energy. No, he tried to.

Kaaaang!

But before Paeng Manwi’s inner energy could fully erupt, another flying dagger struck his blade.

“Ghk!”

In that instant, a ripping pain tore through his shoulder and wrist. Naturally, Paeng Manwi’s dao was knocked violently aside. Before he could even recover his stance, another sharp sound rang out. The moment yet another flying dagger struck the flat of his blade, his palm burst open, unable to withstand the pressure. The dao that had been with him all his life twisted as though it might break at any moment.

‘Th-This is impossi…’

Paeng Manwi was more shocked and flustered than he had ever been in his life. In that very moment, another flying dagger shot in again, mercilessly aiming at his heart.

“Kh-Kuaaah!”

With a savage cry, he knocked aside the incoming dagger. The instant the tiny flying dagger collided with his dao, the back of the hand gripping it split open, and bright red blood sprayed into the air. His wrist and shoulder screamed in pain. 

But whether it was fortunate or not, Paeng Manwi had no time to dwell on the pain. A different, far more real pain followed, piercing through his left shoulder. Before he knew it, another small flying dagger had surged in and buried itself deep in his flesh.

“Ugh!”

And that was not the end. The assault continued relentlessly. While he was striking aside another flying dagger, one of the daggers that had been knocked aside spun in the air as though in mockery. Then, this time, it drove deep into Paeng Manwi’s thigh, sinking in until only the handle remained visible.

He felt as though he had been possessed by a ghost. Just what kind of martial art was this…

At that moment, accompanied by a fierce sound, as if tearing through the air, three daggrs flew in at once. One aimed for his head, one for his chest, and one for his solar plexus. Moreover, the daggers spun violently, drawing in the surrounding air. He could feel the truly terrifying inner energy carried within them. If he were struck by that attack, it would not end with merely a bit of flesh being torn away.

With a wild cry, Paeng Manwi thrust out his dao. He had wrung out every last scrap of inner energy he could muster. At last, a sharp metallic sound rang out.

He succeeded in knocking the flying daggers away, but Paeng Manwi’s face stiffened. He realized immediately that something was wrong. Despite the fierce momentum with which they had been spinning, he felt no recoil at all.

‘I’ve been tricked…’

Paaaat!

In the instant he failed to recover the dao he had swung upward, a single dagger drove in sharply. It was fast – nothing more, nothing less, without any trickery to it. That tiny blade seemed to fold time and space as it flew straight for the center of Paeng Manwi’s brow. Realizing he could not evade it, Paeng Manwi squeezed his eyes shut.

“Father!”

“Brotheeeeeer!”

The members of the Paeng Family, who had likewise sensed his fate, cried out in despair.

After an instant that felt like eternity, silence fell.

To his astonishment, what Paeng Manwi had expected did not happen. When the anticipated pain never came, he slowly opened his eyes. What he saw was a flying dagger that had stopped barely a chi in front of his brow. The blade that had come hurtling towards him at terrifying speed had, as if by a lie, slowed and come to a complete stop in midair.

Paeng Manwi collapsed where he stood. His face was drenched in cold sweat. His eyes, as though bewitched, filled with shock, emptiness, and fear, followed Tang Bo standing across from him. Then he realized something even more shocking.

Tang Bo, standing opposite him, had not taken a single step from that spot from the beginning of the duel to the end. This entire duel had been nothing but Paeng Manwi rampaging on his own before being defeated.

“H-How……”

Paeng Manwi had opened his mouth with a trembling voice, but swallowed the question back. He had no idea where to begin asking. Tang Bo, standing there looking down at him arrogantly, now felt impossibly distant.

Tang Bo, who had been looking at Paeng Manwi as if he were not worth noticing, finally spoke.

“You, weakling. Now that you know your place, go back. You’re not even at the level to withstand my poison.”

Paeng Manwi’s face flushed beyond red, turning almost black. It was a terrible humiliation. But he could not refute it. Ilsu Talmyeong’s skill had reached a level beyond his grasp. There was no choice but to acknowledge it.

“…I have lost.”

Only after those words, spoken with the anguish of a torn heart, did the flying dagger aimed at Paeng Manwi’s brow finally withdraw. Tang Bo, having gathered all the daggers back into his sleeve, gave Paeng Manwi a passing glance and then turned away without the slightest hesitation. As silence engulfed the arena, someone spoke in a ringing voice.

“The duel is the Tang Clan’s victory!”

The faces of the Paeng Family’s men who had accompanied Paeng Manwi twisted with humiliation.

“As agreed before the duel between the Sichuan Tang Clan and the Hebei Paeng Family, neither side shall further contest right and wrong in this matter. However, the result of this duel shall not be spoken of outside, and anyone who carelessly reveals it beyond the clan shall be severely punished according to clan’s law!”

Paeng Manwi shut his eyes, feeling dizzy.

Severely punished according to clan’s law? What a joke. Human mouths could not be sealed with such things. No matter how much they tried to suppress it, the outcome of this fight would soon spread throughout the world. His own reputation would plummet, while the name of Ilsu Talmyeong would resound across all Central Plains, far beyond Sichuan.

The victor takes everything. Was that not the law of Gangho?

Even if those words were upheld, the superiority decided here between the Hebei Paeng Family and the Sichuan Tang Clan would not be reversed in his generation. Since he had suffered such a crushing defeat, no one in the Paeng Family would be able to defeat Ilsu Talmyeong.

‘It would have been better not to fight at all.’

He had never imagined that man’s skill would be of this caliber. But it was already too late for regret. A bitter taste lingered in his mouth, yet he pretended not to notice and watched Tang Bo’s retreating figure. Despite his victory, his steps carried no sense of triumph – only indifference.

❀ ❀ ❀

“You’ve done well.”

Doksim Jehu [독심제후(毒心諸侯) – Poison-Hearted Lord] Tang Cheolak [당철악(當鐵岳)], the Lord of the Sichuan Tang Clan, looked at Tang Bo with an expression of approval. Despite the clan head’s praise, Tang Bo only took another sip from the bottle in his hand, half reclining against the bed.

“Because of this, we’ve gained the upper hand in our relationship with the Paeng Family. From now on, even among the Five Great Families, the Paeng Family will have no choice but to yield a step to the Sichuan Tang Clan. It is thanks to you.”

Tang Bo’s indifferent gaze drifted out the window. Staring off at some faraway place, he tilted the bottle in his hand again. Tang Cheolak’s brow furrowed slightly.

“If you don’t drink that damned liquor, will you come down with some illness?”

Only then did Tang Bo’s eyes turn towards Tang Cheolak. Unlike the ambition burning in Tang Cheolak’s gaze, Tang Bo’s eyes seemed utterly hollow. Slowly swaying the bottle in his hand, Tang Bo spoke.

“The one who won wasn’t the Tang Clan, but me.”

At Tang Bo’s detached tone, a strange light flickered in Tang Cheolak’s eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“Is there anyone in the Tang Clan besides me who could beat that bastard?”

For a moment, Tang Cheolak’s face stiffened. Someone else? No one came to mind. Considering the martial prowess Paeng Manwi had shown today, even if Tang Cheolak himself had stepped forward, it would have been difficult for him to confidently promise victory. And not only that. Even if the elders of the previous generation in the Council of Elders had personally taken the field, it was certain that it would not have been an easy fight.

Tang Cheolak knew it as well. It was not that the Tang Clan had overwhelmed the Paeng Family, but simply that Tang Bo was exceptionally strong even among the Tang Clan.

“There are at least five in the Paeng Family comparable to that bastard. But who do we have? And yet you call this a victory for the Tang Clan?”

It was a painfully sharp rebuke. But Tang Cheolak suppressed the anger rising within him and answered calmly.

“Aren’t you also a member of the Tang Clan?”

Tang Bo openly sneered.

“Yes, yes. Of course. I, too, am someone who bears the Tang surname. Well… Even if not a single word I say ever gets through, and I’m treated as no more than a barking dog, still, in the end, am I not a member of the Tang Clan?”

“…”

“That’s the damned rotten nature of a dog, isn’t it? Even if it escapes after nearly being boiled alive in a pot, it still wags its tail at its master. Isn’t that what a dog is? Just like me – no matter how I’m disregarded within, when something happens, I still fight as I’m told.”

Tang Cheolak glared at Tang Bo with furious eyes. Tang Bo, too, did not avoid the clan head’s stare. In the moment their gazes clashed, the one who turned his head first was… Tang Cheolak. A brief silence passed between them.

“This matter……”

“It should have ended with an apology.”

Tang Cheolak opened his mouth as though trying to ease the awkward atmosphere, but Tang Bo cut him off and struck first.

“If that brat couldn’t win by skill and used poison on his opponent without so much as a warning, then all you had to do was apologize, say you were sorry, and beat the bastard who committed the wrong to a pulp. Did it really need to be blown up this far?”

“It concerns the clan’s honor.”

“Yes, I’m sure it does. No, rather, wasn’t that exactly what you welcomed? Thinking a fine opportunity had come your way.”

“Watch your tongue!”

Tang Cheolak snapped at him with a growl, but Tang Bo shot back without the slightest hesitation.

“This is what happens when you rely on nothing but poison.”

“…”

“When the clan tries to solve everything with poison alone, even little brats stop thinking about honing their actual skill and start using underhanded tricks like it’s only natural. And once that becomes the norm, then even when they do wrong, instead of apologizing, the clan starts trying to exploit it somehow at the clan level, doesn’t it?”

The latter might be called a stretch, but the former was not. Clearly, this incident had originated from the Tang Clan’s fault.

Tang Cheolak knew it as well. He knew that such a trend was beginning to form among the younger members of the clan. No… Perhaps it had already gone beyond something that could be dismissed as merely an issue among children.

“Against a true master, it would amount to nothing more than a way to stall for time.”

Poison was useful. It made it possible to bring down even someone stronger than oneself with ease.

However, there were also clear limitations. There was no way Tang Cheolak did not know that as well. No poison can instantly bring a person down on the spot. Even if only for a fleeting instant, ‘time’ is ultimately essential to poisoning. And once one crosses into the realm of peak masters, even that brief moment becomes more than enough to decide between life and death. Tang Cheolak knew well that this very limitation was the reason why the Tang Clan, despite its centuries of history, had never once produced the strongest under heaven.

But that did not mean everything Tang Bo said was right.

“That is something only you can say.”

At those words, Tang Bo’s eyes turned cold.

“Not everyone can become like you. I know your flying daggers are extraordinary, but not everyone is born with your talent. You know better than anyone that those who admired you and tried to learn the flying dagger techniques all changed direction before long and turned instead to the study of poison.”

There was no way there had been no one in the clan who admired his skill. But in the end, every one of them gave up that path as well. The reason was simple. Because it was difficult.

Among the countless martial disciplines, the art of flying daggers was especially difficult and demanding. Of course, at first glance that might seem hard to understand. One might think that for the Tang Clan, who handled hidden weapons smaller than a fingernail as though they were extensions of their own limbs, the art of flying daggers could not possibly be so difficult. But there was a difference as vast as heaven and earth between scattering countless hidden weapons and perfectly, precisely controlling a mere handful of daggers.

To challenge that difficulty, crash against it, push through it, and finally master it. That was martial learning.

But the children of the Tang Clan had no wish to do that. Because there was an easier path. Because if they put their minds to it, there was a simpler way to win. Without even realizing that such ease would in the end create the limits that bound them. Or rather… perhaps they knew it perfectly well and chose it anyway.

“All the more reason to do it, precisely because it is not easy. If you truly want to change the clan.”

“It is not as easy as you make it sound.”

“It is not that it is difficult, but simply that you want comfort, isn’t it?”

Tang Cheolak could no longer fully conceal his anger. He spoke in a cold voice.

“…You’ve grown arrogant beyond measure. Just because you have skill, do you think you can disregard even the clan head?”

“Do not change the subject, Lord Tang.”

“For hundreds of years, the Sichuan Tang Clan has studied poison. That is what the Sichuan Tang Clan is.”

“And so for hundreds of years, this is the pitiful level you have remained at.”

“Are you saying that you are better than all the clan’s ancestors? Are you alone that great?”

“What in the world does that have to do with this!”

When Tang Bo could no longer hold back his anger and raised his voice, Tang Cheolak let out a deep sigh.

“Let us end this.”

This argument had been repeated countless times. And the result was always the same.

“Do you not understand by now as well? Even if I wished to follow your words, I do not have the authority to do so. I have no confidence that I could persuade the Council of Elders.”

Tang Bo had once described the Council of Elders like this: “Old men so obsessed with preserving their obstinacy that they have rotted through.” Even after stepping back from the front lines, they still kept the clan firmly in their grasp. Believing that only what they had upheld was the truth, they forced that way upon later generations.

“Do you not have the courage to fight the Council of Elders?”

“…Do you truly think that is possible?”

“If you mean to do it, I will help.”

“It is not something you can do alone. Even if I stand with you, it will be the same. In the end, the Lord will simply be replaced by someone who obeys the elders’ words even better.”

Tang Bo’s eyes turned cold. Of course, there was nothing wrong in the clan head’s words, but in the end it was no more than an excuse to save his own skin. If Tang Cheolak truly had the will to change the clan, then what should have followed was that once he himself became head of the Council of Elders, he would try to bring about change then.

He spoke as he did, but in the end Tang Cheolak was afraid as well. Afraid of denying everything he himself had learned. Afraid that those who opened a better path would crush his authority to pieces.

After a brief silence, Tang Bo let out a faint scoff and poured the liquor back into his mouth. Perhaps if the haze of intoxication returned, this damned feeling would fade a little. Tang Cheolak did not rebuke him for it this time either. No, it was probably that he could not.

“More importantly, I have heard there are rumors that a Thousand-Year Poison Serpent [천년독망(千年毒蟒) – cheonnyeon-dogmang] has been see  in Yunnan.”

As Tang Cheolak smoothly changed the subject, Tang Bo narrowed his eyes in displeasure.

Tang Cheolak pretended not to notice.

“As you know, the inner core of a Thousand-Year Poison Serpent can be used as a material for making supreme poisons. It is a rare ingredient, one the clan has only obtained a few times in all its history. But there are not many masters capable of bringing down a Thousand-Year Poison Serpent. All the less so within the clan.”

Of course not. Poison had no effect on a Thousand-Year Poison Serpent. So trash like these bastards, who knew nothing except how to scatter the poisons they had so carefully made, would never be able to catch one. Was that not a truly laughable contradiction?

“Will you go?”

Tang Bo looked at Tang Cheolak with a faint laugh. A gentle smile bloomed at the corners of his mouth.

“Why won’t you just go to hell?”

❀ ❀ ❀

Clang! Clang!

The sound of hammers striking metal rang out without pause, and flames billowed from the red-hot furnace. Seated on a ledge in a corner of the smithy, Tang Bo stared blankly at the fire and the hammers. Whenever his mind was troubled, he often came here.

Because those flames soothed a person’s heart? Because he took a keen interest in the hidden weapons these people made? Neither answer was wholly wrong. But the true reason he felt at ease here was that, in this vast family, only the craftsmen here devoted themselves fully to their own path.

These men carried none of the foul stench of the Tang Clan bastards’ self-justifications. Even as sweat poured off them like rain and the fire scorched their skin, they gave themselves wholly to forging better weapons.

Perhaps the only reason this clan, rotten to the core, still managed to endure at all was because of these people and the hidden weapons they created.

“Elder, you’ve come?”

When those who had entered the smithy spotted him, they bowed in surprise. Tang Bo acknowledged them with a slight tilt of his chin.

‘I should go.’

As people began to gather one by one, there were always those who grew uncomfortable around him. Of course, he had never done anything to harm them, but the position of a clan elder itself was enough to make the household uneasy. Not that he had ever wanted this damned title in the first place.

“Great Uncle! Oh, you are here?”

Just as he was about to rise, someone came trotting over. Tang Bo narrowed his eyes slightly.

This child found Tang Bo intimidating, yet did not avoid him. Anyone with a bit of sense would have noticed the other craftsmen’s attitude and kept their distance from him, but this one showed no such hesitation.

‘Or maybe he’s just a bit slow?’

Not stupid, exactly. More so he was earnest and straightforward to an abnormal degree.

Tang Bo knew. A child like this would become a fine craftsman, and had he learned martial arts, he likely would have become a fine martial artist as well. The thought made his teeth grind with a new passion. A place that forced such promising talent to walk only a limited path for no reason other than being of a collateral line. That was the Tang Clan.

Tang Bo placed a hand lightly atop Tang Jopyeong’s head.

“Aren’t you too young to be coming in and out of the workshop?”

“I still can’t hold a real hammer.”

That was what he said, but in Tang Jopyeong’s hand was a small hammer, as though made especially for a child. It probably meant that he was not yet allowed to strike heated iron with it.

“Then what are you carrying that around for?”

“They said I have to get used to it. That’s how you become a good craftsman.”

Was he only seven by now? Young, but a child with a strong will. A smile rose on Tang Bo’s lips. Not the sneer he had shown the clan head, but a genuine smile.

‘Should I take him as a disciple?’

It was only a passing thought, but Tang Bo soon shook his head. The boy was still young, so his bones and frame had not yet set, and becoming Tang Bo’s disciple would mean being cast out by the family. It was obvious that it would become a path of thorns that most people could never endure, and he could not make a child who was bound to find happiness as a craftsman walk such a road. Besides, Tang Bo was already far too old to be taking on a disciple now. When Tang Jopyeong grew older, he might perhaps feel a bit bitter over it, but with the nature he was born with, he would be fine.

“Here, Elder.”

Just then, someone spotted Tang Jopyeong and Tang Bo and hurried over.

“My apologies. The child did not commit any discourtesy, did he…?”

“It is fine.”

It seemed to be the child’s father. Unlike the child, who was still so innocent, the boy’s father looked terrified that Tang Bo might take offense. Of course he did. Among the rumors about him that had spread through the clan, there was not a single good word.

“I caused you trouble earlier.”

“N-No, Elder.”

Even so, it seemed the rumor that he was fond of this child had spread quite a bit. That must be why those snake-like bastards had deliberately sent Jopyeong to wake him. And this man must have seen it happen from the side and yet been unable to stop it.

“Who was it? The clan head?”

“That…”

The child’s father could not bring himself to answer and only fumbled awkwardly. They had probably warned him well to keep his mouth shut. Knowing that pressing the man any further would amount to nothing more than taking out his anger on the wrong person, Tang Bo rose to his feet. Then he casually tossed a pouch of money to the craftsman.

“Buy the workshop people some drinks.”

“What? N-No, we cannot accept this. Elder, we…”

“Why? Are you saying you cannot take what I give?”

“It is not that…”

Tang Bo patted his shoulder lightly.

“Take it.”

“……Yes.”

It was just as Tang Bo was about to leave the workshop.

“Damn it all! How long has it been since I left it here for repairs, and you’re telling me it still isn’t done? Lazy bastards!”

“It’s not that – there were items that came in first…”

“First? Are you saying there is something more important than what I entrusted to you? Since when did some lowly craftsman think he had the right to say such a thing? Do you need a good beating before you come to your senses?”

“M-My apologies.”

It grew noisy outside. Clicking his tongue, Tang Bo quickened his steps as he headed out.

“There is no need to say another word. At once, your superior…”

“A superior what?”

“What? Which bastard dares…”

The elder who had been grabbing a craftsman and beating him into the ground saw Tang Bo step out of the workshop and instantly fell silent like a mute.

“B-Brother?”

“Go on. Keep barking.”

The elder’s eyes darted left and right. Tang Bo’s notorious reputation – of knocking people flat regardless of whether they were kin – was well known throughout the Tang Clan. If Tang Bo had been weaker, he might have tried something, but there was nothing he could do against Tang Bo, the foremost expert of the Tang Clan. 

Tang Bo’s gaze on him was as cold as though he were looking at an insect.

“Do you think this workshop is your personal quarters?”

“N-No, that is not… I left it for repairs already half a month ago…”

Tang Bo did not even bother listening further and jerked his chin towards the workshop.

“To your eyes, do these people look like they are idling around? The only ones who neglect what they are supposed to do and loaf about are bastards like you.”

The elder’s face flushed red. It was humiliating, but he did not dare summon the courage to refute Tang Bo’s words.

“If you keep loitering around here and I see you again, then next time it will not end with just a few words.”

“…”

“Get lost.”

The elder lowered his head deeply, then turned and hurried away as if fleeing.

“Elder…”

A small voice filled with gratitude came from behind. But Tang Bo did not respond, only gazing up at the sky. Sighs kept escaping him. Pathetic. All of it.

“If that bastard comes back and stirs up trouble again, do not endure it. Send someone to me.”

“…”

“You must.”

“…Yes. I will do so.”

Tang Bo continued walking in silence. Tang Jopyeong, who had been staring blankly at his retreating back, tilted his head and then looked at his father.

“Isn’t Great Uncle a good person?”

“….He is.”

Tang Jopyeong’s father answered with a bitter expression.

“Then why are there so many people who dislike him?”

It was far too difficult a matter to explain to little Tang Jopyeong. After hesitating for a moment, his father offered different words in place of a reason.

“But are there not also people who like him, like you do?”

“That’s true, but…”

Clutching his little hammer tightly, Tang Jopyeong stared quietly in the direction where Tang Bo had disappeared.

After leaving the workshop, Tang Bo walked along with a loose, aimless stride. Those who saw him from afar did not bow their heads, but instead cautiously watched him and slipped out of his way. Like commoners shrinking back from a murderous demonic cultivator. At some point, such a sight had become natural.

But today, more than usual, Tang Bo found the whole thing absurd.

‘I should go have a drink.’

He was tired of drinking in his room. He was thinking of going to an inn somewhere. Of course, that place too would empty out like the receding tide and turn desolate, but at least it would be better than that foul-smelling room. More than anything, the servants who had to clean up that room thick with the stench of strong liquor every time would suffer less, so it was not a bad choice. Still… Tang Bo’s gaze turned towards the distant sky.

‘I ought to leave on a journey soon.’

This time, he should stay away for a while. Whenever he remained inside the Tang Clan, it felt as though his insides were rotting away. Of course, it was obvious without even seeing it that the clan head would send people after him again to pester him. But this time, he had no intention of returning quickly.

Where should he go this time? Should he head to the Southern Sea? Or perhaps all the way to the distant eastern lands? It might not be bad to follow the tea traders and make his way to Tibet instead. At the very least, he could walk for a year without thinking of anything.

Tang Bo’s eyes once again grew dim and hollow. What a wretched weather. Oppressively clear skies.

❀ ❀ ❀

“Awake?”

Hearing a voice that seemed to echo faintly, Tang Bo clutched his head tightly. It felt as though a great bell were ringing inside his skull. His stomach churned, and nausea surged up in him. It felt as though he had been poisoned by some dreadful toxin.

By reflex, he reached out for water. Only after grabbing the bottle set by his bedside and gulping it down for a long while did he feel a little more alive. When he let his head fall weakly back against the wall, that same voice spoke again.

“Well done indeed.”

“…Who brought me here?”

“The inn sent word. They said morning had come and you were still pouring liquor down your throat. Said you looked ready to empty every last drop of liquor in the place. Is that true?”

“…”

“Fine. Let us say nothing of the fact that an elder of the Tang Clan caused a scene in an inn. But there should still be men of the Paeng Family in Chengdu, and yet you drank yourself senseless like this. What in the world were you thinking? If those bastards had laid eyes on you, do you think you would still be alive?”

Listening to the scolding, Tang Bo let out a snort.

“Why, do you think those bastards would resort to a sneak attack?”

The small laugh soon grew into a loud one. The more Tang Bo’s shoulders shook, the harder Tang Cheolak’s face became. Tang Bo sneered openly.

“You’ve lived your whole life hiding in the shadows, so I suppose you think everyone else is the same?”

“I’ve told you repeatedly – watch your tongue.”

“Why? Are you going to poison this water now?”

Their gazes collided in midair. Once again, it was Tang Cheolak who broke eye contact first, letting out a sigh heavy enough to make the ground sink.

‘Damn it.’

If only he were not a master! If only that bastard were not an irreplaceable master of the Tang Clan, he would already have had him quietly confined or thrown into the prison cells. A husk of a man who undermined the authority of the clan head at every turn and did nothing but wander outside the clan.

He looked down on the direct line and took the side branches under his wing simply because they made hidden weapons, then one day vanished without a word, only to reappear abruptly years later. In the Tang Clan, which ran on strict law, that man was, quite literally, like a venomous insect. Everyone found him dreadful, yet because he was of the Tang Clan, they could not cast him away.

Especially from Tang Cheolak’s position, regret weighed on him no less than resentment and anger. If only that bastard had been even a little more decent, he could have used him to raise the clan’s prestige twice as high. He spoke as if letting out a sigh.

“You kept talking about it, so I made the suggestion to the Council of Elders.”

“…About what?”

“Nothing excessive. I suggested choosing about ten of the clan’s children and placing them under your care. At the very least, we cannot let your hidden weapon arts to be lost.”

For a fleeting moment, a spark flashed through Tang Bo’s otherwise lifeless eyes.

A mere ten. But the meaning of that could not be dismissed as merely ten. If they were not disciples he had personally gathered, but children assigned to him by the order of the clan, then rather than being scorned by the other clan members, they would instead be looked upon with a certain pity.

And if, in such an environment, he managed to raise those ten properly, it might become the chance to change this suffocatingly closed-off clan. What one man could not do alone, ten might accomplish.

“And?”

“Denied.”

A heavy silence settled. Without realizing it, Tang Bo bit down on his lip.

Ten. Out of the countless useless brats in the clan, just ten – and yet the Council would not even grant him that.

Did a clan this rotten have any reason to continue existing? Would it not be better for it simply to collapse as it was?

“They said a single loach muddies the water, and that ten would be more than enough to bring ruin upon the clan.”

“Ha… Hahaha!”

A hollow laugh slipped out. A loach. In this clan, that was all he was. No matter that he had become the greatest expert of the Tang Clan, no matter that he had defeated Bugsan Maengho in a single strike, he was still nothing more than one who muddied the clan’s waters.

These people had no desire to become dragons. Rather, whenever someone tried to become one, they trampled him thoroughly so that he would live on as a mere loach. They had lived that way their entire lives. Because if they lived like that, they could at least reign as kings within their small stream.

Tang Bo’s hand moved reflexively in search of liquor. But with the room having been thoroughly cleared out in the meantime, there was no way any alcohol would still be left.

“I thought they might at least give you ten.”

“…I suppose you did.”

For Tang Cheolak, whose pride pierced the heavens, to go before the Council of Elders and bow his head must have taken resolve of his own. Yet even that had been rejected outright. The clan was even more rotten than they had thought. In the end, Tang Bo exploded in frustration.

“What is wrong with it? What more am I supposed to do? I am the master of flying daggers, damn it! I’m not spouting nonsense just to prove that I alone am superior!”

Tang Bo, who usually maintained a cynical demeanor, shouted harshly, and Tang Cheolak simply stared at him in silence. Then he spoke.

“One man may gamble, but a clan cannot.”

“A gamble? You called it a gamble?”

“The mainstream approach of this clan is poison. Flying daggers were enough as a supporting art. To change that trend would, in the end, mean changing the clan itself. To stake everything on you alone, on an uncertain gamble – the four characters of the Sichuan Tang Clan are far too heavy for that.”

Of course they were. A hollow laugh slipped from Tang Bo’s lips. He had heard those words so often they made him sick. No, by now they were nailed into his ears. And yet had they ever sounded this disgusting, this vile, as they did now? Even knowing it was not solely Tang Cheolak’s fault, he found it hard to endure.

Then, suddenly, Tang Cheolak said in a cold voice.

“And… you are certainly at fault here as well.”

“……What did you just say?”

“If you truly wanted this, you should have proven it. That your path of flying daggers is, without a doubt, the right one.”

“What more, exactly, do you expect me to prove?”

“Are your daggers the best under heaven?”

For a moment, Tang Bo was left speechless.

“The best of the Tang Clan? What does that prove? There has always been ‘the best’ in the Tang Clan in every era. The fact that you are the strongest within the clan is not a reason for the clan to change. Those called the best of the Tang Clan have always been ones who vied for the title of the best in Sichuan.”

As Tang Bo listened to every one of those words, his face twisted.

“Then what – are you telling me to go out and prove I’m the best under heaven? To wander Gangho and fight duels?”

“…”

“Do you think I stay like this because I do not want to prove it? How am I supposed to fight bastards who hide themselves inside their sects and never come out! Shall I go to Wudang and beg them? Ask them to let me fight the greatest sword of Wudang? Or should I camp out in front of the main gate of that damned Namgung Clan? Should I plead for just one match with Changcheon Geom-Wang [창천검왕(蒼天劍王) – Azure Sky Sword King], who does not even show his face at gatherings anymore?”

What kind of absurd, unreasonable nonsense was this? Just as Tang Bo was about to raise his voice again, Tang Cheolak lightly lifted his hand and said.

“That Azure Sky Sword King.”

“Yes! That Azure Sky Swo….”

“He lost, I hear.”

“…What? What did you just say?”

Startled for a moment, Tang Bo forgot what he had been about to say and stared with wide eyes.

“They say the Azure Sky Sword King has been defeated. And not only that – he could not even properly put up a fight before he was one-sidedly crushed.”

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

No matter how one looked at it, it was an outrageous claim. Who was the Azure Sky Sword King? The Grand Elder of the Namgung Clan, and together with Wudang’s Taiji Sword Sovereign [태극점제], one of the two contending for the title of Greatest Swordsman Under Heaven.

This was the age of swordsmen. If the greatest swordsman under heaven was effectively the greatest martial master under heaven, then the defeat of the Azure Sky Sword King meant little different from saying that the strongest man in the world had been decided.

“Is it true?”

“For now, it is only a secret, a quiet rumor. And it will likely remain nothing more than a rumor forever.”

At first glance it sounded like he was dismissing it as mere hearsay, but in truth it meant the rumor was real. If it were not true, Namgung Clan would already be foaming at the mouth, loudly denying it.

“…Who was it? The Taiji Sword Sovereign?”

“No.”

“Then…”

“Chung Myung.”

Tang Bo’s body shuddered briefly.

“Chung Myung? That… from Hwasan?”

Bewilderment spread across Tang Bo’s face.

“You are saying Chung Myung, Iljeol Maehwa [일절매화(一節梅花) – First Form of Plum Blossoms], was that great of a master?”

He had, of course, heard the rumors many times. Iljeol Maehwa Chung Myung. Hwasan’s greatest swordsman, and perhaps one worthy of being called the foremost sword in all Shaanxi.

But he was even more famous for his eccentric temperament than for his skill. He had heard that within Shaanxi, Chung Myung was known less by the refined title of Iljeol Maehwa than by the nickname the Vagabond of Xian [서안낭객(西岸浪客) – seoannang-gaeg]. A vagabond was, usually, a title given to some unruly wanderer with no fixed abode. For such a nickname to be attached to an elder of the illustrious Hwasan Sect – this alone made it plain as day what sort of man he was.

And yet that Chung Myung, had defeated none other than the Azure Sky Sword King?

“I know what you are thinking. But it seems to be true. His martial prowess must be greater than what is publicly known. In the Shaanxi region, they say he is no longer called Iljeol Maehwa Chung Myung, but sometimes Maehwa Geomjon.”

“Geomjon? How arrogant.”

“No, not arrogant. Not if the rumor is true. He may well be at the level where all would call him the greatest under heaven – no… If he defeated the Azure Sky Sword King, then there can be no doubt that he is the greatest martial master of this era.”

“……Who else knows?”

“It seems Gupailbang does not know yet. The Great Families appear to have learned of it first.”

Tang Bo nodded. Compared to Gupailbang, the Five Great Families interacted with one another far more actively. Most likely, word had slipped out in the course of exchanges among their subordinates. There was no such thing as an eternal secret in this world.

“The Namgung Clan will desperately try to keep the truth buried, so it is unlikely to become known to the public. And from the looks of it, Hwasan does not seem eager to spread it either.”

“Why not?”

From Namgung’s perspective, it was the deepest humiliation imaginable, but from Hwasan’s standpoint, it was an unprecedented triumph. Was there any reason to hide it?

“Well now. Since it concerns Daehyeongeom [대현검(大賢劍) – Great Virtuous Sword] Chung Mun, there must surely be a reason.”

The name Chung Mun, the Great Virtuous Sword, was enough to make others accept everything without question. People said it would not be an exaggeration to claim that more than eighty percent of the credit for raising Hwasan into the great sect it now was belonged to him. The Great Virtuous Sword was that extraordinary of a Sect Leader.

“And in truth, the reason is not what matters. What matters is that we know of it – and naturally, so does the Council of Elders.”

At the mention of the Council of Elders, Tang Bo’s gaze turned cold again. Only now did he clearly understand why Tang Cheolak had brought this up.

The Azure Sky Sword King and the Taiji Sword Sovereign were figures hidden deep within the walls of their clan and sect. To cross blades with them was something possible only in dreams. Issuing a challenge itself would be an act of insolence, and each sect guarded against any such possibility so thoroughly that, even if the individuals themselves were willing, a match could not happen. But…

“As you know, Iljeol Maehwa Chung Myung is…”

“Is a loafer who comes out to Xian every so often to drink himself senseless.”

“Indeed. Much like someone I know.”

“We cannot cross blades with the others, but…”

“But with him, we can.”

“And what are the chances that Hwasan will try to hide him away now?”

“None. From what I have heard, Hwasan cannot control him. And in truth, if they had been able to control him in the first place, then at the very least a Taoist would not have ended up with such a notorious reputation attached to his name.”

Tang Bo found himself agreeing, and let out a quiet laugh. A Taoist known for his infamy – what kind of absurd creature was that? He seemed more interesting than expected. Had he not been cornered by the state of his clan, he might have gone to seek him out at least once, if only for amusement.

‘But now it will be an ill-fated meeting.’

Tang Bo rose from his seat. The moment he noticed the emptiness inside his sleeve, he asked coldly.

“My daggers?”

“…You call yourself a martial artist.”

Tang Cheolak frowned and muttered a brief reproach, then added.

“I left them with the workshop. I told them to hone the edges as keenly as possible.”

“Was that really necessary?”

“The opponent is who he is. We have to do whatever can be done. I told them to put everything else aside and handle your matter first, so by now the work should already be finished.”

Tang Bo nodded. He still thought it was unnecessary, but if his opponent’s skill truly was enough to defeat the Azure Sky Sword King, then even this level of preparation was not excessive.

“Can you do it?”

“It is not a matter of whether I can. I have to.”

A sharp glint flashed through Tang Bo’s dark eyes. If there was any way to save a clan that was rotting and slowly sinking, then this was it. No – even if it wouldn’t change the clan entirely, at the very least, it might provide a thread to grasp onto.

To think that the hope he sought could only be gained by proving himself the best under heaven. It was truly an absurd condition, yet Tang Bo’s eyes were no longer clouded as they had been before. Now that a clear path lay before him, what lay ahead was his to carry.

“If you defeat him, then even the Council of Elders will have no grounds left to refuse you. Naturally, you will be able to obtain at least part of what you desire.”

“I suppose so.”

After all, no one would wish to bear the disgrace and ridicule of being a clan that failed to pass down the flying dagger arts of the best under heaven.

“I will be off.”

“Right away?”

“There’s nothing to be gained by dragging it out. I will go before that bastard hides himself away. If I wait for days, or even months, he is bound to show himself at least once. And that will be the moment I prove that I am the best under heaven.”

Tang Cheolak nodded heavily. This was Tang Bo, the man who had crushed Paeng Manwi without even moving from where he stood. No matter how strong Iljeol Maehwa Chung Myung might be, he could not possibly defeat him.

“Go, then.”

Without another word, Tang Bo left the room and headed for the workshop. His eyes shone with a chilling light.

‘Chung Myung……’

A faint smile curved at the corner of his mouth.

‘I suppose I should thank you.’

❀ ❀ ❀

The empty cup landed on the table with a sharp sound. The veins and tendons on the back of the hand gripping it stood out starkly.

“What kind of godforsaken situation is this?”

Even when he reclaimed his beloved weapons, freshly honed, from the workshop, Tang Bo’s heart had been full of resolve. No – right up until the moment he had raced like the wind from Chengdu in Sichuan all the way here to Xian, his spirits had been soaring. The thrill of finally having seized his chance had set his heart pounding.

And on top of that, there was the anticipation of being able to prove his martial art, and the joy of crossing skill with someone who was certain to be the finest under heaven. Tang Bo too was a martial artist, so there was no way this duel would not fill him with excitement and expectation. But…

“Locked up?!”

One day, two days, and then a whole month.

Tang Bo stayed and waited the entire time without leaving, but the man they called the Iljeol Maehwa, or the Vagabond of Xian, never showed so much as the tip of his nose. He appeared only now and then in the stories people whispered among themselves. In the meantime, Tang Bo picked up the utterly useless bit of information that, around here, the man wasn’t even called the Vagabond of Xian but something closer to ‘Hwasan’s Lost Cause,’ – but that hardly mattered [화산망종(華山亡種) – hwasan-mangjong – or hwasan’s perishing lineage]. 

In Xian, Hwasan’s disciples were common enough that one or two would show up whenever one looked. But among them, Iljeol Maehwa Chung Myung was nowhere to be seen. No matter how long he strained his eyes waiting, not only did he not appear, not even anyone resembling him showed up. At last, unable to bear it any longer, he had tailed Hwasan’s bastards and gathered what information he could about the situation, and…

“You’re telling me he’s locked up? How does that make any sense!”

Yes, fine, someone could be locked up. If he committed some wrongdoing, he could be thrown into the Repentance Chamber. There was nothing strange about that.

“But the reason is that he beat the Azure Sky Sword King?”

Even a dog would hear that and call it nonsense. A master of the sect defeats one counted among the greatest swordsmen under heaven, and instead of rewarding him, they punish him? Had Hwasan’s Sect Leader gone mad?

“Ugh…….”

Tang Bo raked his fingers through his hair. There was no way Great Virtuous Sword Chung Mun had gone mad, so there must be some complicated reason beyond his understanding – but as an outsider, he had no way of uncovering it. All he could do was suffer in frustration.

What was more, from what he had heard, even Hwasan’s own disciples did not seem to know when Chung Myung would be released. So Tang Bo had no choice but to helplessly wait, soothing his smoldering impatience with liquor.

“I knew things were going too smoothly.”

Muttering to himself, he dropped his head heavily onto the table.

Everything had become unbearable. The endless waiting, the bland food of Shaanxi. He had been away from Sichuan for only a month, yet he missed its fiery dishes so much he felt he might fall ill from it. But he could not even leave this place, in case Iljeol Maehwa happened to come through Xian while he was gone.

Having stayed put there for over a month without properly speaking to anyone, he felt as though he were slowly going mad. Even his habit of talking to himself had grown alarmingly worse. Tang Bo, who had been sitting there with his head buried as if dead, suddenly jerked it up.

“No, but does this really make any sense?”

Locked up? Hwasan’s greatest expert? The greatest master of the age, no less, the man who had defeated the Azure Sky Sword King?

No matter how lofty the authority of a sect leader might be, Gangho was still the world of martial artists. It was only natural that the strong held more power. No matter how much authority a sect leader held, he could not push around the strongest expert in his sect however he pleased. Was the Tang Clan itself not proof enough? Even the Tang Clan, which could rival Shaolin for the strictness of its laws, had been unable to do anything with Tang Bo.

“And he just obediently let himself be locked up?”

How could something like that possibly happen? Was it actually Chung Mun, who was the strongest man under heaven? Was that why he could beat down Chung Myung and toss him into Repentance Chamber without even letting him squeak? As if that made any sense!

‘What kind of sect is Hwasan, exactly?’

What sort of sect was it, for such absurd things to happen in plain sight? And how were those disciples of Hwasan walking around Xian so calmly, without a care in the world, after something so ridiculous had taken place?

“…I have no idea.”

Tang Bo slumped down again. The more he thought about it, the more it only added to his misery. Better to forget thinking altogether and simply surrender himself to the passing of time…

“Ugh! I thought I screwed up big time! Damn, what a mess!”

At that moment, a loud voice rang out. It was loud and unbearably frivolous. It sounded like some degenerate had just barged in.

‘You’ve got a death wish.’

He was already in a foul mood – if that bastard so much as caused a slightest disturbance, he’d snap his neck on the spot. Tang Bo ground his teeth at the thought.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the man who had come in did not actually cause any trouble.

“Server! Bring me kung pao chicken and red-braised pork [홍소육]! And a bowl of wontons too! Ah, and hwaju [화주(花酒) – flower wine – osmanthus wine tastes…]! Ten bottles of hwaju! No, twenty! Right now!”

“Yes, Sir! I’ll have it prepared at once!”

The booming voice, together with the sound of the server scurrying about, only agitated Tang Bo further.

“H-Here, the hwaju first!”

“That’s right, you know what you’re doing! Hand it over!”

“Yes, Sir. The food will be ready in just a mo…”

“Kraaaaaaah! Ugh! This is the taste! This is it!”

The corner of Tang Bo’s eye twitched.

‘Loud as hell.’

Under normal circumstances, he might have thought, ‘What a boisterous fellow,’ and let it pass, but right now his state of mind was in such chaos that nothing looked agreeable to him. Still, he could not afford to cause trouble before meeting Iljeol Maehwa. If his identity were exposed for no reason, he might hear the rumors and go into hiding.

Forcing down his anger, Tang Bo sank deep into thought. Should he just go to Hwasan and ask for a duel? No. No, that would be absurd. There was no way they would agree to such a match.

“Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp!!!”

Then should he first stop by the Beggars Sect and gather informati…

“Slurp, slurp, slurp, slurp!!! Kheeeeuuuuuuuh! I’ve absolutely annihilated today’s wontons! Bring me another bowl!”

“Yes, Sir!”

A vein bulged on Tang Bo’s forehead. Did that bastard realize it? That while he was busy ‘annihilating’ his wontons, he himself was on the verge of being annihilated? Even in the middle of all this, the sound of him gulping down liquor continued refreshingly – gulgulgulgul.

“Kraaaah! Ten more bottles of hwaju! No, forget it, that’s a hassle. Just bring me everything that’s left!”

“S-Sir. The money…”

“Oh, what, you think I don’t have the money?”

“…..Yes.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it.”

Even as he spoke, the sound of that reckless bastard chugging liquor never ceased. It sounded as though he were pouring entire bottles straight down his throat, and he drank with such vigor that Tang Bo, who had been lying there listlessly, found his mouth watering.

“Ahh! Now I finally feel a bit more alive. Damn it, why is it always me? Hell. What was so wrong about beating up some old man?”

Still sprawled over the table, Tang Bo thought to himself, ‘Well, you really shouldn’t beat up old men. You deserved to get scolded for that one.’

“And instead of praising me, they – ah, for heaven’s sake.”

Tsk, tsk. That one really was hopeless.

“H-Here, I’ve brought more liquor.”

“And another plate of red-braised pork.”

“S-Sir, do you really have the mon…”

“I told you, I do. And besides, you can just put it on my tab!”

“The last time we put it on your tab, an elder came and paid it off for you…”

“He’ll pay it off this time too, so stop worrying and just bring it!”

“……Yes, Sir.”

A faint grin tugged at the corner of Tang Bo’s mouth. There was no delinquent quite like that bastard. If that bastard had pulled a stunt like this in Sichuan instead of Xian, by now he would have already…

‘Huh? Wait a second.’

A delinquent? In an inn like this, crawling with disciples of Jongnam, and with even people from Hwasan showing up from time to time, a man openly making such a scene?

Tang Bo jerked upright and snapped his gaze towards the source of the commotion. And then he saw it: Hwasan’s eye-catching white martial robe, and a long ponytail that almost reached the man’s waist.

Tang Bo’s eyes widened.

“Kraaaaaaah! This is it! This is the stuff! How’s anyone supposed to live without this!”

His mouth slowly fell open. Right. That was him. That had to be him. With his heart trembling slightly, Tang Bo rose and walked towards the bizarre Taoist bastard who was demolishing the food.

“Excuse me……”

“Hm?”

The Taoist turned sharply, a liquor bottle still stuck in his mouth. His gaze was so outlandish that even Tang Bo, of all people, nearly found himself instinctively turning around with, ‘Ah, my mistake. I’ll be going now.’

“What?!”

“Could it be that you are…. Iljeol Maehwa…. no, Maehwa Geomjon, Chung Myung Dojang?”

“Huh?”

The Taoist tilted his head and looked Tang Bo up and down, his gaze clearly saying, ‘Who the hell is this bastard?’

“No idea about this ‘Maehwa Geomjon’ nonsense, but I am Chung Myung. Why?”

“Ah, is that so?”

A faint smile spread at the corner of Tang Bo’s mouth.

It had been a long time. A very long time, but… at last, the moment had come!

“I am Tang Bo of the Sichuan Tang Clan. The world calls me Ilsu Talmyeong.”

“So?”

Tang Bo started to bring his hands together in a formal martial salute, then stopped. With this bastard, this way would work better than that sort of formality.

“I hear you’re pretty good.”

“…Huh?”

“Let’s have a match.”

Tang Bo jerked his chin towards the outside. The Taoist was silent for a moment, then popped the liquor bottle from his mouth and grinned crookedly.

❀ ❀ ❀

Thud.

“Urgh….”

Something black wavered before his eyes. It was still hard to comprehend, but that black thing was dirt. And what his cheek was pressed against was the ground.

‘T-There’s no way….’

He lost. No, that was too refined a way to put it. He got utterly crushed. To spell it out more clearly: he had been beaten one-sidedly without even managing to do anything, and ended up collapsing.

The flying dagger he had been so proud of, the one that had pierced Paeng Manwi in a single strike, had been knocked away like a grasshopper struck by a flail, accompanied by an indifferent voice saying, ‘What is this?’ Even the poison he had flung in desperation after being driven into a corner was scattered far away with just a few flicks of the hand.

A person can lose. No one can win every time. If two people facing each other are of similar skill, there will be times one wins and times one loses. Tang Bo, too, had never been certain of absolute victory either. He had thought it would be enough to merely prove that the gap between him and the Greatest Sword Under Heaven was not so large. But…

‘The difference is this big?’

This was not something that could be expressed by just saying Chung Myung was stronger. They were simply on different levels. Not ten times, but even if he challenged him a hundred times, he would not win even once. The gap was that enormous, that despairingly vast.

Then what had all his effort been for? What had all the agonizing deliberation he had gone through until now been for?

What was even more dreadful was the fact that, in the final moment, he had pulled out poison. Because he was of the Tang Clan, he had carried it on him, but he had never once used it. And yet the moment he felt that hopeless difference, instead of thinking of striving to overcome it, he had wound up scattering poison just like the other bastards of the Tang Clan he had mocked and cursed all this time. That fact made Tang Bo feel indescribably pathetic.

‘Though I pretended otherwise, I too am just someone with the Tang Clan’s nature soaked into my very bones.’

So of course he could never win. That man had clung to a single sword and built up that level of skill. And he did not even boast of what he had achieved. How much of grueling training must that man have endured? While Tang Bo had wasted his time drinking and lamenting his fate.

Lying collapsed, Tang Bo inwardly pointed at himself with harsh contempt, calling himself worthless. That, from the very beginning, he had not even been worthy of winning…

Thud!

But at that moment, something fell and stuck into the ground beside his head. It was a flying dagger. His cherished blade had been retrieved by someone else’s hand and returned to him.

“Hey, you.”

At the voice falling from above, Tang Bo struggled to lift his head. The damned Taoist was grinning crookedly with an infuriating expression.

“You were using some interesting tricks.”

Tang Bo bit his lip hard. Mocking the loser was the winner’s right. If the outcome had been reversed and he had lost, then he would have had to endure the mockery as his due. Just as Bugsan Maengho Paeng Manwi had been unable to say a word when he sneered at him.

But then, rubbing at his chin, the Taoist went on and on.

“Switching the flow of your inner energy the moment we made contact to throw me off – that was pretty interesting. If you pull that off well, it’d feel like your dagger suddenly carries tremendous force. When really all that’s happened is that the point of contact has shifted.”

For a moment, Tang Bo could only stare blankly at his face. The Taoist paid no heed and spoke seriously.

“But if you’re going to do that, wouldn’t it be better to turn the center downward instead of lifting it upward? It’s only natural that more force gets loaded below the tip of the blade. That’d be more effective. Then the flow would go like this? Hmm, no. Like this?”

Before he knew it, Tang Bo had begun picturing it in his head just as the man said, and a short exclamation slipped from him.

“Ah.”

Chung Myung, who had been idly mimicking the motion of twisting the direction of a flying dagger with his hand, shrugged.

“Well, anyway, that was fun. You’re stronger than I expected, you know? I thought all the bastards of the Tang Clan were idiots, but turns out there’s one like you too. If there had been just two or three more like you, the Tang Clan wouldn’t be living cowed by the likes of the Namgung Clan. Why didn’t they raise you properly? The Tang Clan really is full of idiots… Ah, right. I said earlier all the bastards of the Tang Clan were idiots. Well then, I guess that makes sense.”

Tang Bo felt as though his soul were about to leave his body. Just what in the world was this man…

“That Namgung… What was his name again? Azure Sky Sword… Uh… anyway, compared to that stiff scarecrow who only knows how to act important, you were a bit more interesting. Next time you come up with something more entertaining, come find me. I’ll play with you again.”

Just as he was about to nod blankly, Chung Myung stepped a little closer and crouched down in front of him. Then, with quick hands, he started gathering something from Tang Bo’s waist.

“Ah, here it is. Pretty heavy, huh?”

Chung Myung rose to his feet, then tossed something in his hand like a toy and caught it again. A pouch with gold. It was Tang Bo’s money pouch.

“Since I played with you, I’ll be taking my liquor money. If I run up another tab, Sect Leader Sahyeong will foam at the mouth and raise hell, obvious as day. Next time you come, make sure you stuff plenty of money into your pouch too. I’m off.”

Chung Myung spun around sharply. He must have opened the pouch, because Tang Bo heard him let out a delighted, ‘Oh!’ to himself. Feeling the sound of his snickering gradually recede into the distance, Tang Bo slowly rolled onto his back.

Above him stretched an endlessly clear sky. It was so impossibly high. And yet he had lived without ever knowing the sky was that high. He had been nothing more than a fool who looked only down, complaining that the patch of ground beneath his feet was too narrow.

A small laugh escaped him. The quiet laugh gradually swelled into roaring laughter.

“Hahaha! Ha ha…… Cough! Hahahahaha!”

For some reason, he simply could not hold back the laughter. The places where he had been struck throbbed with terrible pain, but the laughter kept bursting out of him. Enough to make tears bead at the corners of his eyes.

“Hahahahahahahahaha!”

He laughed for a long while. It didn’t matter whether people were watching or whether his dignity was ruined. In all his life, there had never been a day more exhilarating than this.

“Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

His laughter rang through Xian for quite some time.

❀ ❀ ❀

A month passed after that.

“…..Ah, damn it!”

“Why are you throwing a fit again?”

Chung Jin let out a sigh as he poured liquor into Chung Myung’s cup.

“No, seriously, why do they keep giving me a hard time? Why! What did I do wrong?”

“…Sahyeong. There is such a thing in this world as generally accepted common sense.”

“Yeah, common sense! Hey, well said. From a ‘common sense’ perspective, if your junior goes out and beats some guy who calls himself the greatest under heaven, shouldn’t you normally welcome him back with open arms? Isn’t that the natural thing for the Sect Leader to do?”

“…That’s true.”

“Then why is he acting like this?!”

“If that so-called ‘best under heaven’ got beaten up in his own backyard, and the one who beat him up was someone who barged into another person’s residence without a word, then of course it becomes a problem.”

“They wouldn’t meet me!”

“If they wouldn’t meet with you, then you should have left it at that.”

“No, what were you even listening to when I was talking? I said those Namgung bastards were looking down on Sahyeong! Those bastards must have a death wish.”

It was impossible to reason with him. Feeling utterly at a loss, Chung Jin squeezed his eyes shut.

The whole story of the incident was this.

Gupailbang and the Five Great Families had held a gathering, and the head of the Namgung Clan had made a remark that rubbed Chung Mun the wrong way. You know the sort, don’t you? On the surface it was not particularly rude, but somehow it left the listener with an unpleasant taste. The kind of small slip of the tongue that can naturally come from people intoxicated by the hollow shell of being a prestigious household. It was no more than that.

But that depends on who hears it. The problem was that, of all people, the one who heard it was Chung Mun, and of all people, the one who heard about it was Chung Myung.

After hearing the story from the disciples who had been present, Chung Myung flew into a rage, shouting that he would rip off the Namgung patriarch’s head. The alarmed Chung Mun snapped at him that if he so much as touched a single hair on Namgung patriarch’s head, he would be excommunicated from the sect on the spot and locked away in the Repentance Chamber for life.

‘In that sense, he really does listen well.’

Chung Myung follows exactly what he is told. The problem is that anything he is not told, he absolutely does not follow.

The method Chung Myung chose, having listened so well, was to beat up someone other than the patriarch. And by sheer coincidence, that ‘someone else’ happened to be the Azure Sky Sword King, whom the Namgung Clan revered as if he were a sacred relic. 

At least in his heart, Chung Jin offered the Azure Sky Sword King his condolences once again. From that man’s point of view, it truly must have been a bolt of lightning out of the blue. A creature no different from a living calamity had charged at him with eyes blazing, and the reason for it was, of all things, someone else’s mistake.

“…How badly did you say you beat him?”

“He’ll be up in a month or two.”

“Considering he’s a master, that means about half a month left.”

“Huh? That already includes that. Two months.”

Wouldn’t it have been better to just kill him?

If someone whose martial attainment had reached the Sublime Realm [화경(化境)], a master said to contend for the title of greatest under heaven, had been bedridden for two whole months, then just how thoroughly had he been smashed to pieces? Even if he managed to get up, he probably wouldn’t be able to walk properly for quite a while. Poor man…

“Sahyeong. Do not, truly, blame Sect Leader Sahyeong for this. The Namgung Clan is currently foaming at the mouth in protest.”

“Hmm, really?”

“…And let me say this in advance: do not even dream of going there again. If that happens, there truly will be no turning back.”

“If there’s no turning back, then they’re the only ones who’ll die.”

“Yes. And you’ll die too, Sahyeong. Sect Leader Sahyeong will draw his sword.”

“…For an old man, he’s got plenty of spirit. And anyway, why do you keep nagging? Did I say I was going?”

“Didn’t you?”

Chung Myung grinned.

“Just tell them I might go.”

“…What?”

“Just drop the hint. Tell them that if they keep this up, I’m going to keep getting scolded, and if that keeps happening, then at some point I might just snap and show up in Anhui before anyone knows it. Then they’ll quiet down.”

With a pained expression, Chung Jin looked out the window. It was such a ridiculous threat it was almost laughable, but honestly, it was not wrong either. If he casually let that slip, the Namgung Clan would fall silent at once. Others might not, but the Azure Sky Sword King would definitely lose his mind and clamp the patriarch’s mouth shut himself. Because to anyone who had experienced Chung Myung once, the most terrifying thing in the world was seeing Chung Myung again.

In that sense, perhaps the true hell on earth was Hwasan. What sin had he committed to deserve living while seeing this man’s face every single day?

“Got it?”

“Yes, yes, I understand. I’ll make them quiet down.”

“You should’ve done that from the start. There, now that it’s settled, let’s drink.”

What exactly did you settle? I’m the one doing all the work.

“If those bastards quiet down, then Sect Leader Sahyeong will probably calm down too.”

“So you do know he’s angry?”

“He’s always angry.”

“And whose fault is that.”

“Keep it down, you brat. You get uppity the moment you’re bored, talking back to your Sahyeong.”

“I’m actually older than you…”

“This bastard is subtly ignoring seniority again, huh? Should I tell Sect Leader Sahyeong?”

“You only call him Sect Leader Sahyeong at times like this, honestly!”

As Chung Jin’s face twisted, Chung Myung cackled and raised his cup. He was just about to tip it back.

“Hey, over there!”

“Huh?”

Chung Myung turned around. A tall, handsome man in a green robe was walking into the inn.

“Chung Myung Dojang!”

Chung Myung brightened and spoke as he looked at the man.

“Oh! Who are you?”

“…”

“Have I seen you somewhere before? Hey, do you know him?”

“I don’t.”

The man in the green robe – Tang Bo – ground his teeth. What kind of person is this…

“Well, whatever. Did you need something from me?”

“……You told me to come find you if I finished making something more interesting, didn’t you?”

It would be faster to show him than explain it with words. Tang Bo pulled a flying dagger from his sleeve and held it up. Only then did Chung Myung’s eyes light up, as though he had finally remembered.

“Ah, it’s you!”

“……Don’t remember people by their weapons!”

“Wow, it was you. Huh… Hmm?”

Mid-sentence, Chung Myung tilted his head as if he could not make sense of it.

“I figured I’d beaten you badly enough to put you down for at least half a month back then. It’s only been two months.”

“It’s been one month.”

“Huh? Then that makes even less sense. You already finished a new martial art in that time?”

Chung Myung stared blankly for a moment, then grinned.

“Looks like you worked hard?”

Tang Bo glared at him, his insides boiling. Easy for him to say. The past month had truly been the hardest period of his life. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he had ground himself to the bone. In order to restore his shattered pride, he had corrected every flaw this bastard had pointed out, and on top of that had poured new insights into each of his eleven flying daggers.

“Let’s fight.”

“Ha! You’re an interesting one. Did you bring a nice fat money pouch?”

“You bandit bastard! I did!”

“Good, good. Then we should fight. Let’s go.”

Grinning, Chung Myung rose from his seat and headed outside. Tang Bo ground his teeth so hard they nearly creaked and followed after him.

“Put the liquor bottle down!”

“If it will be necessary.”

“You really are going to die like that.”

“Feel free to try.”

Left behind alone, Chung Jin stared blankly at the backs of the two men as they headed outside.

‘He came looking for Sahyeong of his own accord?’

And that only a month after getting beaten up? A hollow laugh slipped out.

“I’ll kill you for sure this time.”

“Sure, sure.”

“I told you to put the liquor bottle down.”

“I said I’ll put it down if I need to. Just hurry up and start already.”

“Diiiiiieeeeeeeeee!”

Listening to the rough voices drifting in from outside the inn, Chung Jin let out a small chuckle.

‘I’d better put out one more cup.’

❀ ❀ ❀

Click

With that sound, the wooden case has been opened. Tang Gunak carefully took out the flying daggers. The hands that wiped the blades with a piece of cloth were delicate. Countless scars were etched into the old daggers. At a glance, they looked like objects hardly fit for the patriarch of the Tang Clan to be using. Yet Tang Gunak’s touch was reverent beyond measure.

Just then, he heard someone outside.

“Father, it is Pae.”

“Come in.”

Tang Pae, who opened the door and stepped inside, paused slightly when he saw Tang Gunak tending to the flying daggers.

“…Are those Amjon’s [암존(暗尊) – Dark Sovereign] daggers?”

Tang Gunak nodded. His eyes still did not leave the daggers.

“Yes. Amjon’s flying daggers, and the soul of the Tang Clan.”

The reason the Tang Clan uses poison is not because it is tradition. Poison is a means for the weak. When a family continues on through the generations, there are times when it encounters an enemy it cannot overcome with its own strength. An enemy so strong it cannot be resisted, yet also cannot be avoided.

Then what should one do? Bow one’s head and beg to be spared? Or silently accept destruction?

That cannot be allowed. One may be defeated, and one may be destroyed. But one must never give up fighting. The poison of the Tang Clan is not merely poison. It is the Tang Clan’s will to never cease resisting, to use whatever means necessary no matter the circumstances.

But once, the Tang Clan forgot that truth. They forgot why they had taken up poison, and instead became obsessed with poison itself. It were these flying daggers that shattered that stubborn delusion.

“You must remember. That the flying dagger arts you now learn as naturally as breathing was not something simply handed to you. That there was once a time when even the direct line of the Tang Clan did not hold flying daggers in their hands.”

“I remember.”

“Good.”

Tang Gunak nodded heavily. Amjon, who fought against Demonic Cult. He saved a family that had been on the brink of destruction. He saved lives, and he saved the future of the Tang Clan. With these very daggers, he personally carved out and opened the path the stagnant Tang Clan would walk. And…

Having finished the maintenance, Tang Gunak carefully arranged the daggers back inside the wooden case. The worn old daggers, which had now become heirlooms, were placed in a luxurious display cabinet in the green wooden case that symbolized the Tang Clan. It was the most visible place in this room.

Tang Gunak, who had closed his eyes for a moment and paid his respects, only then looked properly at Tang Pae.

“Well then, what is it?”

“The case commissioned by Hwasan has been completed.”

“…..I see?”

Tang Gunak’s eyebrow twitched slightly. To the Tang Clan, Hwasan was their most important client. No, rather than a client, it was their most important ally. From Tang Gunak’s point of view, they were people he could privately call ‘close friends.’ Since it was a request from such people, not even the slightest negligence could be permitted.

“Bring it here.”

“Yes.”

Receiving the brand-new white wooden case made from precious whitewood [백목(白木)], Tang Gunak turned it over this way and that, inspecting the craftsmanship.

“It’s been made well.”

“So it seems. I am told the craftsmen put a great deal of effort into it.”

“Hmm.”

A satisfied smile settled at the corner of Tang Gunak’s mouth. The craftsmen of the Tang Clan were particularly fond of Hwasan. Well, having gone through what they had together, that was only natural.

“Good. Take it away.”

But Tang Pae did not leave, and instead conveyed the rest of his errand. A faint smile hung at the corner of his lips.

“Ah. And… Hwasan sent a gift.”

“A gift?”

“Yes. It is called Jasodan. It seems to be an elixir made by Hwasan. They said they wished to place that elixir in the whitewood case we made and present it to you as a gift, Father.”

At that unexpected gift, Tang Gunak fell silent for a moment, then let out a small laugh. A case like this was originally used either to store precious things or to hold a gift meant for someone important. Thus, this case itself was also meant as a gift to Tang Gunak.

When he opened the case, a clear, elegant fragrance spilled out, and a single pill came into view.

“Well, of course… since they did not send any silk to line the inside, I prepared that separately.”

“That does sound like Hwasan.”

“Doesn’t it?”

The gentle smile spreading across Tang Gunak’s lips remained bright for a long while. Tang Pae thought that ever since they had begun interacting with Hwasan, Tang Gunak had been smiling more often.

“Isn’t it interesting?”

“Yes?”

“Your ancestor once opened the blocked path for this clan in ages past. And now, more than a hundred years later, Hwasan came here and resolved the troubles of a household that had begun to stagnate once more.”

“…That is true.”

“He would have been pleased.”

Tang Gunak placed the newly received wooden case in the most visible spot in the display cabinet. By coincidence, that place was right beside the case containing the flying daggers. The green wooden case engraved with the emblem of the Tang Clan and the white wooden case engraved with red plum blossoms stood side by side. As though showing the relationship between the Tang Clan and Hwasan as it was now.

“Come to think of it, who made this wooden case?”

“Elder…”

“Great Uncle?”

“Yes.”

Tang Gunak looked at Tang Pae as though dumbfounded and said.

“Even if it was something for Hwasan, it was only a wooden case. Are you saying you actually asked Great Uncle to make it?”

“It was not that I asked him. No matter how out of my mind I might be, even I would not dare do that.”

“Then?”

“They say that when Elder saw the other craftsmen carving plum blossom patterns into the case, he smashed everything they had been making and then made it himself. And the remaining ones are all being made by his own hand as well.”

“Huh-huh… Well, he was the one who made the clan’s wooden cases in the first place.”

Tang Pae scratched his head awkwardly.

“He keeps saying that if he does not personally handle something Geomjon asked for, his Great Uncle will skin him alive, but I have no idea what he means…”

“……Well, his mind is not wholly sound.”

Muttering bitterly, Tang Gunak asked casually.

“Did he look pleased?”

“Yes. That much is certain. I have never before seen Great Uncle so delighted in recent times.”

Tang Gunak nodded. So long as it was not a burden, it would surely be a good thing for Tang Jopyeong as well.

“Good, then that settles it. Let us go.”

“Yes? You mean to go in person?”

“In any case, I’ve ended up placing another task on Great Uncle, so I should go and see him.”

“Yes. Then I shall lead the way.”

As Tang Gunak followed Tang Pae out, he stopped at the door and suddenly turned to look back. The two cases standing side by side were a pleasing sight.

‘They suit each other well. As if they had been one from the beginning.’

A contented smile rose naturally to his lips. But just as he was leaving the patriarch’s chamber and about to close the door, Tang Gunak hesitated for a moment. A sudden question had crossed his mind.

‘Even in Amjon’s time, flying daggers were certainly not treated within the clan as a proper martial art… So how in the world had Amjon managed to change the clan’s traditions?’

It was true that Amjon’s fame had spread far and wide across the world, but before the Great Demonic War, that fame had not been all that great. In such circumstances, it should have been even harder to change the clan’s strict laws by one man’s strength alone.

Through the door, still not fully shut, Tang Gunak looked once more at the two cases standing side by side. Watching how oddly harmonious they appeared together, he finally let out a hollow laugh.

“I’m overthinking it.”

❀ ❀ ❀

“So what exactly are you dissatisfied with?”

“…No, it’s those blockheaded fools in the clan!”

Dead drunk, Tang Bo pointed across the table at Chung Myung as he spoke.

“Talk all you want, but watch where you point that finger before I cut it off.”

Tang Bo quietly folded his finger back in and resumed lamenting his situation.

“I’m telling you, those idiots just can’t understand what people say, can’t understand a single thing! I keep telling them poison has its limits, over and over!”

“Hmmm.”

“And no matter how much I talk, they won’t bloody listen! All it does is make my insides boil, damn it…”

“Hmmm.”

Chung Myung, who had been listening quietly as if thinking something over, suddenly had both his eyes light up. The grin spreading across his face looked ominous somehow.

“Hey. That… want me to solve it for you?”

“……What?”

Chung Myung’s face twisted with a mischievous expression.

“From the sound of it, it’s hardly a problem at all. Though there’s something you’ll have to do for me in return.”

“What in the world are you talking about?”

“As it happens, things have been pretty damned awkward for me at Hwasan too. These days, our Sect Leader gets pissed off every time he sees me.”

“That’s only natural.”

“What did you just say, you punk?”

“Ah, no, that’s not what I meant. Anyway, what do I have to do for you?”

“You go to our Sect Leader and tell him he ought to let me go with you. Say it’s a request from the Tang Clan. That’s all you have to do. Then I’ll go and solve everything for you. Got it?”

Tang Bo was struck speechless. But Chung Myung paid not the slightest attention to his reaction and only grinned in smug satisfaction.

“Well then, let’s go.”

“Go? Go where! No, I need time to think about this…”

“Ah, the sooner the better. Let’s go! To Hwasan.”

“I said I need to think about it, you lunatic!”

“You look too stupid to be doing so much thinking. Does thinking ever get you an answer? Stop yapping and follow me.”

“…I can’t even kill you, damn it.”

As the two men walked side by side, bickering boisterously, bright moonlight poured down between them.

One year passed, then two… And so even after ten years, dozens of years, a hundred years had gone by, it was moonlight that would remain unchanged.

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*소동(小童) – can have two meanings. A small child below 10 years old or, in the context of historical stuff/wuxia novels – a young child serving in a sect, household or a temple. Meaning this child is doing small errands for his/hers elders ‘attendant/errand boy’ etc. 

**숙조부님 – literal translation of this is 叔祖父 – paternal great-uncle’s younger brother ㅠㅠ. 

***’Fiver Tigers and a Dao Breaking through the Gate’. 문(門) – gate – here is a metaphor, breaking one’s limits, to breakthrough etc, not smashing physical wooden gates. 

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