Chapter 73

Laying the Stones

Qingjin of Wudang.

Though still grouped among the younger generation, his name carried a different weight even among his peers.

The trajectory of the path he walked was different.

The others were likewise cornerstones of their respective sects or clans, yet Qingjin alone seemed uninterested in such things.

『What could be more glorious than attaining immortality through the sword? In that case, the title of Sword Dragon suits you better. You should become the king.』

At the Yongbong Assembly before last, Qingjin had shattered Namgung Sang-hyeok's sword and spoken thus.

And so, although the title of Sword Dragon still adorned Namgung Sang-hyeok, those who knew, knew.

『The sword of the Sword King's House has yet to reach the peaks of the Nine Sects.』

Such rumors circulated quietly, and Namgung Sang-hyeok ground his teeth and devoted himself to honing his blade.

However, at the most recent Yongbong Assembly, neither Qingjin nor Wudang had participated at all.

As a result, Namgung Sang-hyeok's revenge came to nothing.

And to the assessment—

『He keeps strutting about, maintaining the Sword Dragon's seat only because Daoist Qingjin yielded.』

Namgung Sang-hyeok fell into inner demons.

Then he witnessed Namgung Seohee in full bloom, and his inferiority toward Qingjin turned into something directed at her as well.

"Qingjin..."

In the past, Namgung Sang-hyeok had poured every sword technique he knew into his strikes, yet still failed to pierce that mysterious circle of Qingjin's.

With that memory resurfacing, he clenched his teeth and watched the clash between Qingjin and Cheon Muyang.

The first exchange of swords.

At a glance, Cheon Muyang's blade also seemed unable to break through Qingjin's circle.

"Hmph. Of course."

Namgung Sang-hyeok sneered.

Though he had lost to Cheon Muyang, he had long dismissed it as mere coincidence.

Even though Paeng Do-hyeok had been trampled mercilessly.

'There's no way that executioner bastard can pierce Qingjin's sword.'

But what was blocked was not truly blocked.

As he watched Cheon Muyang's blade descend like a thunderbolt, Namgung Sang-hyeok clenched his fist tight.

'If it were me....'

The question arose—could he have stopped that sword?

Namgung Sang-hyeok forced himself to deny reality.

'I can do it too.'

He told himself that he could block a mere executioner's blade just the same.

But what shocked him even more came next.

Kwaaaang!

With a thunderous roar, Qingjin blocked that lightning-like sword.

"...!"

In the end, Qingjin's circle had not been broken.

That fact sent a shiver through Namgung Sang-hyeok.

'I thought I could do it now....'

He had believed that with the newly refined sword he had honed in desperation, he could pierce it.

'Am I still that far behind?'

Yet as much as he had improved—

No, even more so, Qingjin's realm had advanced beyond recognition.

There was now a gap so vast it didn't need words to be felt.

And so, Namgung Sang-hyeok felt hollow.

It was as though he had admitted defeat without even swinging his sword.

That alone was enough to make his resentment boil over, but Qingjin's subsequent attitude only provoked him further.

'But why is he like that with that executioner....'

Qingjin was someone who, while part of the younger generation, had already transcended it.

Moreover, like a lofty crane, Qingjin had shown little interest in socializing—the supposed main purpose of attending the Yongbong Assembly.

Rather, the last image Namgung Sang-hyeok remembered of Qingjin was of him leaving the Assembly with eyes full of disappointment.

'And yet Qingjin is acting so friendly.'

Seeing Qingjin smiling brightly, as though genuinely enjoying himself, felt utterly unfamiliar.

Crrrk!

At that sight, Namgung Sang-hyeok's twisted inferiority toward Cheon Muyang reared its head once more.

'If it weren't for that damned executioner....'

That place would have been his.

Chill.

At that moment—

Namgung Sang-hyeok realized something as he looked at where Qingjin and Cheon Muyang stood.

'Has Qingjin ever stepped back that much before?'

At the Assembly before last, Qingjin had been like an iron wall.

From beginning to end, he had never yielded an inch from where he stood.

'Only Hougae of the Beggars' Sect ever managed to force him back a single step.'

At the time, neither Shaolin nor Mount Hua had attended.

There were even rumors that their absence was because of Qingjin's participation.

'Even Hougae only managed one step… and neither I nor Paeng Do-hyeok could make him retreat.'

But what about Cheon Muyang?

Judging by their positions, Cheon Muyang stood at the very center of the training grounds, while Qingjin had been pushed toward the edge.

'Cheon Muyang....'

Namgung Sang-hyeok's eyes sank deeply.

Flinch!

Someone nearby felt a chill run through them.

'The future will be my era. Wudang, the Cheon Clan, the Paeng Clan of Hebei—none of them will have room to interfere!'

It all had to belong to him alone.

Who was destined to become the head of the Namgung Clan and be called the Sword Emperor of later generations?

There was only one answer—himself.

'If anyone stands in my way....'

His eyes grew cold.

Namgung Sang-hyeok's gaze drifted, briefly—toward the Tang Clan.

And came to rest on Tang So-hye, who happened to be looking at him.

Snap!

Only for a moment.

She turned her head away.

Toward Cheon Muyang and Qingjin at the center of the training grounds.

"...."

Envy and jealousy surged together.

Shff.

Namgung Sang-hyeok rose from his seat, intending to leave.

"Hey."

Paeng Do-hyeok noticed and approached him.

He likely meant to discuss what to do next.

Though they constantly clashed, banding together at times like this was an unspoken rule among the clans.

"Going forward, we sh—…!"

But even Paeng Do-hyeok, who had been brimming with momentum, was struck momentarily speechless by the killing intent that radiated out.

Step, step.

Namgung Sang-hyeok left.

Left alone, Paeng Do-hyeok let out a small snort of laughter.

"No need to ask what he plans to do."

***

With Namgung Sang-hyeok gone, and Qingjin stepping forward in Cheon Muyang's defense, the atmosphere of the Yongbong Assembly completely changed.

The meaning of the invitations had been rendered meaningless.

"This must have been the Yongbong Assembly's original form."

A banquet where people mingled without regard for color or rank.

This was likely what the Assembly had looked like when it first began.

"I see."

Cheon Muyang chuckled softly as he watched the lively banquet.

It was unexpected how much the Dragons and Phoenixes of the Nine Sects were steering the mood.

Watching that scene, Cheon Muyang asked Qingjin and Hougae beside him.

"So—what's the plan, then?"

Freeze.

At Cheon Muyang's words, Qingjin and Hougae—

Both of their movements halted for an instant.

Of course, even that pause looked natural on Qingjin.

"..."

"Tell me your scheme."

"You knew?"

"The Hougae I know is far too busy to move without reason. That means you wanted something, doesn't it?"

In other words, there had to be some scheme for him to attend this Yongbong Assembly.

'And that scheme probably began the moment I said I would attend the Assembly.'

That was the kind of man Hougae was.

In Cheon Muyang's judgment—

'After the annihilation of the Cheon Clan, the one who would truly rise and become a focal point capable of opposing the Demon Cult.'

The one who would become the axis of the martial world.

That person was Hougae.

Hougae was the only one who had truly perceived the threat of the Demon Cult.

Wasn't it Hougae who uncovered the Demon Cult's spies, who had seeped silently into the Central Plains martial world like Cheon Jungho?

'Of course, that's a future matter—but also an inevitable one.'

That was why Cheon Muyang trusted Hougae.

Even if Hougae had used him, Cheon Muyang felt he could grasp the intent behind it.

"Don't worry. I already have a rough idea what that scheme is."

"I had no intention of using you. Still, I apologize for harboring an intention without telling you."

Hougae dipped his head slightly.

Just as Cheon Muyang said, Hougae had used Cheon Muyang to bring about this very scene.

"I thought it was a time when harmony was needed. The current martial world is overheated—far too much so."

"Overheated, huh...."

Cheon Muyang nodded.

Hougae was right.

The current martial world would trample others without hesitation if it meant achieving one's goals.

"Well, I'm sure the elders have their own circumstances, but... what deep grudges could we possibly have?"

"So you're saying new wine should be poured into a new vessel?"

"Yes. Something like that. There's no reason for us to stay bound by stale grudges of the past, is there?"

"...."

"I agree as well. When I first came down from Wudang, the martial world I encountered was more disappointing than I expected."

That was precisely why Qingjin had been disappointed when he attended the Yongbong Assembly.

People with not even a trace of chivalry.

People drunk on a sense of superiority, dividing themselves and others into ranks.

Seeing the caliber of those who were supposed to lead the next generation, Qingjin could not hide his disappointment.

"Of course, not everyone was like that."

Namgung Sang-hyeok was wrong.

Qingjin had not avoided forming ties with others—he had simply chosen to align himself with those worthy of shaping the future.

Namgung Sang-hyeok just wasn't among them.

"So that's why you joined in?"

"That's right."

"Funny. You didn't seem like someone who would move just because of Hougae's words."

"Ah, if Young Master Cheon's sword had fallen short of my expectations..."

Qingjin smiled innocently.

"I would have done just that."

"I see."

"So, at least here at the Yongbong Assembly, I wanted to ease that overheating."

"For what purpose?"

"You already know. The Demon Cult."

"...."

Both Qingjin and Cheon Muyang's expressions stiffened instantly.

"Very few people are aware of how dangerous they truly are."

It was an intentional concealment.

At the level of the younger generation, there were almost none who knew anything about the Demon Cult.

"However, a handful do know of their threat."

Swish.

Hougae gestured lightly.

At that, several people approached.

Most of them were disciples of the Nine Sects.

"The purpose of this Yongbong Assembly is to gather those few, but awakened ones—to stand together with them. And..."

"...!"

Cheon Muyang shuddered.

Because at that moment, he could vaguely see Hougae's ultimate goal.

"Don't tell me...."

Hougae nodded.

Then he continued.

"When the Demon Cult eventually rises again."

"Today's harmony will shine."

"Yes. Today's harmony will greatly influence the creation of an ultimate form of unity—something the previous generation could never achieve."

"Are you talking about the Martial Alliance?"

Hougae smiled.

It was a playful smile.

"This Yongbong Assembly is also a stone laid for that purpose."

"Impressive."

The Martial Alliance—an idea that had existed for ages only as legend and discussion.

In other words, something believed to be impossible to realize.

'So he believes it's possible in the next generation?'

Hougae was an exceedingly realistic man.

If it were impossible, he wouldn't even have attempted it.

Which meant—he had seen a possibility.

"Do you agree?"

"Yes, to an extent. That alone shows how fierce the Demon Cult's threat truly is."

"That's a relief."

"Those old fossils are complacent. Probably because in all of history, the righteous martial world has never been defeated."

Not once had the righteous factions been destroyed by demonic or heretical paths.

That spoke to their tremendous foundation—but over such long years, that strength had grown dull.

"Like a frog that doesn't even realize the water it's soaking in is about to boil, right?"

As he had once said.

The Central Plains martial world was that frog.

A foolish frog sitting idly in a cauldron soon to boil over.

Hougae was the savior trying to rescue that witless frog.

"But listen."

"Yes. Go on."

"There's something you're overlooking."

"...?"

"You can't take everyone with you."

Swish.

Cheon Muyang's gaze landed on the Tang Clan.

"A tumor has to be cut out, doesn't it?"

"A tumor...."

"If you don't, everything rots away."

Cheon Muyang's eyes, fixed on the mass of tumors, were cold beyond measure.