Chapter 207: The False King (1)

The quarters the four of them were led into were too comfortable to be mistaken for a room set inside an underground cavern.

It wasn’t particularly lavish or antique, but it was spacious, and there were beds and a table. Just like the open area, luminous pearls were embedded here as well, making it brilliantly bright.

“Oh?”

Ga Deoksang let out an admiring sound as he stroked a small bead set into the wall.

“To think I’d see one of these here.”

Pae Yul tilted his head.

“What is it?”

“It’s a Moisture-Avoidance Pearl.”

“A Moisture-Avoidance Pearl?”

“Yes. A mysterious object that removes humidity within a set area. It’s a treasure worth three or four times as much as a luminous pearl of the same size.”

Pae Yul looked at the Moisture-Avoidance Pearl with fresh eyes. From the outside, it didn’t look any different from an ordinary bead.

Ga Deoksang’s gaze deepened.

“And it’s not just any Moisture-Avoidance Pearl. It doesn’t merely remove humidity—it regulates the humidity level itself.”

“Then it’s even more expensive?”

“Just like luminous pearls, the price varies wildly depending on quality. This one isn’t the absolute top grade, but it’s still a high-grade item most wealthy men can’t easily get their hands on.”

Pae Yul smacked his lips.

“You know a lot.”

“I’ve seen a lot of things. And I’ve had to learn a lot.”

Just then, Je Gal Ahyeon knit her brows.

“Something’s off.”

“Hm?”

“An item’s value is set by supply and demand. In that sense, a Moisture-Avoidance Pearl can’t help but be expensive. It isn’t something produced in the Central Plains to begin with.”

Ga Deoksang nodded.

“That’s right. I’ve heard Moisture-Avoidance Pearls come from the Western Regions.”

“Exactly. The problem is how many of these pearls are scattered throughout this enormous underground cavern.”

“Hm....”

“Even if this is a place only honored guests can enter, the breadth of this cavern is beyond imagination. There have to be dozens of these pearls, at minimum.”

“I see.”

A serious light settled over Je Gal Ahyeon’s face.

“I’m genuinely curious. It’s strange. Just how much money does Yangcheon have, that he can plaster the place with rare treasures like these?”

Pae Yul said, “Or he might be getting support from someone.”

“Even so...”

“Why? Too far outside the norm?”

“Yes. That’s what I think.”

“I don’t think it’s that strange. It’s shocking, sure, but I don’t think it’s so impossible.”

The three of them looked at Pae Yul with puzzled eyes.

Pae Yul tapped his scabbard with his fingers.

“In the martial world, martial strength is power, epithets are value, and achievements are proof, aren’t they?”

“...!”

“The Thirteen Seats of the Sacred Heavens are said to be absolute masters comparable to—if not greater than—the supreme masters from three hundred years ago, the era when the martial world was at its peak. It means they’re monsters born human, who stepped beyond the human domain.”

Tang Sang-a, who had been silent until now, spoke up.

“So you mean... Yangcheon is at a level where he can easily receive support on this scale?”

“That’s what I believe. To speak plainly, there are countless ways to make money—but becoming as strong as Yangcheon is damn near impossible.”

Pae Yul looked at Tang Sang-a.

“You’d know that better than anyone.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Every one of the Thirteen Seats of the Sacred Heavens was called a god of martial arts. Even the “Three Lords,” said to be a step below the ten Immortal Sovereign Kings, were described as men who—if they’d simply been born in the right era—would have been more than enough to become the strongest under heaven.

In other words, their existence itself was priceless. Regardless of each one’s ideology, they stood in a position worthy of support on this scale.

“Then only one question remains,” Je Gal Ahyeon said.

“Hm?”

Je Gal Ahyeon’s eyes glittered like the morning star.

“If there’s someone—or some group—supporting him... what do they want from Yangcheon, that they’d give him support like this?”

*****

“Here.”

The old man who had taken Yeon Hojeong stopped before a pitch-black stone wall. The wall, darker than the surrounding stone, was massive enough to resemble a fortress gate.

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes narrowed.

Black Rock Gate.

The independent space at the deepest part of the Blood Dragon Vein—no, of Ink Dragon Manor.

The terrain there was higher overall, and the air flowed best. Once you opened the gate and entered, a staircase rose straight upward, and the number of steps was ninety-nine.

Because of that peculiar feature, the place had stuck in his memory.

And the way to open this gate was—

“Lord of Ink Dragon Manor.”

The old man bowed his waist and spoke in a respectful voice.

“I have brought the representative of the Martial Ancestor Sect.”

That was when—

KUUUURRRRMMMM.

With a heavy sound, Black Rock Gate shifted inward by about six inches.

KRAAASH!

The gate slid inward and then slowly vanished to the left. It was a sliding door.

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes sharpened.

Different.

Originally, there had been a large protrusion on the right side of Black Rock Gate, around chest height.

It had been so heavy you couldn’t depress it without using Inner Qi. And only when it was pressed did Black Rock Gate open.

Now it was different.

Where the protrusion had been was hollowed out. That section had been removed and remade into a new kind of mechanism formation.

This isn’t ordinary.

They hadn’t crafted it from tiny parts upward—they had taken an already-complete mechanism formation of divine craftsmanship and remodeled it at will.

That was extraordinary engineering.

In this place that had become Ink Dragon Manor—no, the Blood Dragon Vein—it seemed countless mechanism experts had been deployed as well.

The more he saw, the more he thought—

Yeon Hojeong could feel it. This was a realm Yangcheon could never have built alone.

Yangcheon.

Yeon Hojeong reined in the rising questions and killing intent.

Do those bastards really stand behind you?

He still didn’t know. There was no reason to jump to conclusions.

He drew a long breath.

Calm down.

For this mission, Yeon Hojeong swore he wouldn’t make a single reckless assumption. He meant to set even his instincts aside for the moment.

Transparent and certain.

Unless reasonable inference and confirmable facts supported it, he wouldn’t leap to conclusions.

THUNK.

At last, Black Rock Gate opened wide.

A staircase leading straight up came into view. The angle was gentle enough that it didn’t look difficult to climb.

The old man said, “Go in.”

Without a word, Yeon Hojeong stepped forward.

Then the old man added, “One word, out of needless worry.”

“...”

“Do not commit any disrespect toward him.”

Yeon Hojeong glanced at the old man.

This was someone he’d never seen when he’d fought Yangcheon in the past. The same was true of Blue Tiger.

But he was strong.

Amazingly, the old man’s strength was enough to remind Yeon Hojeong of his father. With that explosive power perfectly contained, even Yeon Hojeong couldn’t easily discern the source of his Inner Qi.

Yeon Hojeong spoke.

“I want to ask you one thing, too.”

“...”

“Are you a man of the Central Plains?”

The old man gave no answer.

After staring at him for a moment, Yeon Hojeong started up the stairs.

KUUUURRRRMMMM.

The instant he stepped onto them, Black Rock Gate shut. Even Yeon Hojeong couldn’t tell what principle it operated on.

And so he climbed, one step at a time.

Yangcheon.

A man who had stepped into the world with terrifying desire burning in his eyes.

A black lion who had wandered in a world unlike the Orthodox Path, searching for the road to stand at the top.

What a cruel twist of fate. To meet you again—here, where I buried you.

Before the bold challenge of a young Dark Path master, Yangcheon had looked pleased rather than angry.

Maybe he’d been writhing in the loneliness of a strong man with no equal. Or maybe he’d been thrilled at the thought of taking that challenger under his wing.

Either way, Yangcheon’s capacity had been extraordinary.

Even though I killed you with my own hands... I never hated you.

A man with tremendous drive, but lacking in many ways to truly fulfill his ideals—yet a powerhouse who could have carved his name into history if he had simply existed as the Fighting King.

That was the Yangcheon Yeon Hojeong remembered.

That was why he wished—

So many things changed when the world returned... but I don’t want to force myself to hate you now, when you remain one of my not-bad memories.

WOOOOONG.

With each step upward, Yeon Hojeong could feel it.

The other man’s presence pressing down on his entire body. A massive power seeping out, slowly conquering the entire space.

CRACK.

The end of a step chipped. Without meaning to, Yeon Hojeong had put strength into his foot to endure the crushing pressure.

So I pray you didn’t join hands with those damned bastards.

WHOOOOM.

A hot wind blew in.

FLAP-FLAP-FLAP.

It was a wind of considerable force, slamming into Yeon Hojeong’s clothes and whipping them in loud ripples.

His body grew heavier by degrees.

The higher he climbed, the closer he got to “him,” the more the burden on his flesh increased exponentially.

You old bastard.

A bitter smile touched Yeon Hojeong’s lips.

What are you so curious about, and what are you so bored about, that you’re testing me like this?

He’d decided to set instinct aside for a moment, but even so, he couldn’t ignore the reality his instincts were screaming.

Yangcheon hadn’t been this sort of man. He’d been broader, heavier—someone with a certain gravitas. He’d been closer to a predatory hero than a treacherous schemer.

He wasn’t someone who, like this, wasted his true power simply to “test” a rampaging young master.

Are you already drunk on the taste of the throne?

Yeon Hojeong closed his eyes.

CRACK.

He stepped on the ninety-seventh stair. The edge broke again.

CRUNCH.

He stepped on the ninety-eighth. The entire sole of his foot sank into the stone by about an inch.

And then the ninety-ninth stair at last.

WOOOOONG!!

The air convulsed.

TSSSSSSSSS.

A faint blue-green radiance rose from Yeon Hojeong’s body.

It was the manifestation of Azure Dragon Qi.

The Azure Dragon was a dragon wave—skilled in evasion and counterattack. That wasn’t merely true of its techniques; the nature of its True Qi was similar as well.

WHOOOOM.

A large portion of the crushing pressure was released. Azure Dragon Qi spread through his whole body and guided him through the gaps in the pressure.

THUNK.

Yeon Hojeong’s left foot stepped onto the final stair.

Shhh.

The heavy wave of qi that had produced a weight like a thousand pounds vanished as if washed away.

At the same time, a low voice cut through the air.

“Impressive.”

Yeon Hojeong opened the eyes he’d kept closed.

At last, in his sight, he saw the black lion—mane faded with age, whipping in the air.

“Blue Tiger needs more tempering. ‘Peer’? Nonsense. Even if he unleashes Tiger Dance, I doubt he could endure twenty exchanges. And yet it ended with a single line saying he was ‘usable’?”

Surprise rose on the face of the man seated on the Grand Preceptor Chair—Yangcheon.

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes deepened.

Yangcheon.

A distant, distant tie—finally met again.

“Youth carries fatal flaws as surely as it carries countless strengths. You may deny it yourself, but you can’t help reacting to others’ evaluations.”

“...”

“Even knowing that, I can’t help saying it.”

Yangcheon admired him without pretense.

“Truly, you are an extraordinary young man. It has been a long time since I’ve been this surprised by anyone.”

A faint smile settled over Yeon Hojeong’s face.

The smile’s meaning was hard to read, and Yangcheon’s eyebrow twitched.

Yeon Hojeong brought his fists together in a crisp cupped-fist salute.

“I greet Lord Yang. I am Jeong of the Martial Ancestor Sect.”