Chapter 571

I rose to my feet and headed toward the main gate of Wudang.

As I approached, a few people noticed me and greeted me warmly.

“Ah, Young Master Gu!”

Yeongpung and Gu Ryeonghwa, along with the Sword Queen, stood there holding some luggage.

“You arrived early, it seems.”

“Yes.”

Apparently, as soon as Ubong Chwigye finished his interrogation,

the Sword Queen and the Wudang Sword Saint had concluded their private conversation and wrapped up the situation.

The Wudang Sword Saint had to move quickly to address the chaos that had unfolded within the sect,

and as a result, it was no longer appropriate for guests to linger. We had to leave Wudang promptly.

My gaze shifted.

The Sword Queen was standing a bit further away, speaking with some members of Wudang.

Judging by their demeanor—

‘They must be elders as well.’

They appeared to be elders who had come on behalf of the Wudang Sword Saint.

I made a mental note of them. They seemed like people I might have to meet again someday.

At that moment—

“Brother.”

Gu Ryeonghwa, who had been standing beside me, called out.

“Hmm?”

“…We’ll be okay, right?”

Her expression, tinged with worry, was amusing. She wanted to appear confident, but she was still young.

Noticing this, I tousled her hair lightly.

“What are you so scared of? Just act like you always do.”

“…”

Normally, she would have shrieked and pulled away,

but she must have been startled enough to remain still.

“Wudang said there’s no problem. And didn’t your master say everything’s fine too?”

“…Yes.”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about.”

There absolutely shouldn’t be.

If there were any issues, I would burn the problem to ashes.

After all, I couldn’t stand seeing this fool cry.

“…So, where are you going now, Brother?”

“Me?”

I paused for a moment to think.

Could I leave immediately? And if so, where should I go?

‘According to the current schedule….’

Originally, I was supposed to return briefly to my clan.

But given the circumstances, there was only one path forward.

“I’ll probably head to Hannan.”

“Hannan?”

Gu Ryeonghwa’s eyes widened in surprise at my answer.

And then—

“Young Master Gu, does that mean…?”

Yeongpung, overhearing my words, approached with a gleam in his eyes.

“Are you planning to participate in the Martial Arts Festival?”

The Shinyong Martial Arts Festival, held in the summer.

He was asking if I intended to join it, and I responded with a smile.

“Yes, I thought it might be fun.”

“Ah!”

Yeongpung’s expression lit up with excitement upon hearing my answer.

“Then I’ll see you in Hannan later!”

“Hmm?”

I tilted my head at his comment.

“Are you going too?”

“Yes. I’ve already received permission from the Sect Leader.”

So he was heading to Hannan as well, it seemed.

“However, I’ll have to go to Sichuan first to prepare for it.”

“Ah.”

In Yeongpung’s arms was a relic,

the treasured

Gui Jeong

of Mount Hua, also known as the cherished sword of the Plum Blossom Sword Art.

It seemed he had obtained it after concluding discussions with Wudang.

‘I see.’

After glancing briefly at the relic, I looked back at Yeongpung.

“Then I’ll see you later.”

There were plenty of things I wanted to say, but I refrained.

Maybe it was just my imagination, but my left arm felt slightly warm.

I ignored the sensation as best I could.

Instead, I simply tightened the hand that had been ruffling Gu Ryeonghwa’s hair.

“You too. Let’s meet again.”

“So soon…?”

As if saying goodbye, Gu Ryeonghwa spoke in a surprised tone.

I replied with a hint of exasperation.

“Do you expect me to follow you all the way to Sichuan?”

“W-Well… it’s only been a few days….”

“Then will you come with me?”

“…”

“Or will you just follow your master quietly?”

At my remark, Gu Ryeonghwa suddenly grabbed the hem of my robe.

I glanced down at her, wondering what she was up to.

“…Then, this time… take my letter.”

“Ah….”

Her voice trembled, her eyes glistening with tears.

I scratched my head awkwardly and nodded.

“I’ll try.”

Though I probably wouldn’t, I still gave her a reassuring answer.

As I calmed Gu Ryeonghwa down, the Sword Queen approached.

“It’s time to leave.”

Her expression didn’t look particularly pleasant.

‘Understandable.’

After all, nothing good had come of this situation, and she hadn’t been treated particularly well either.

I shifted my gaze to the martial artists accompanying the Sword Queen.

They were disciples of Wudang.

Judging by their condition, I realized their purpose.

‘Ah, an escort.’

It seemed excessive to escort the Sword Queen, but

since she was carrying a relic returned by Wudang, it made sense for them to provide protection for part of the journey.

A few disciples were likely accompanying her as escorts,

though they would probably return partway and not continue to the final destination.

Even so, it served its purpose.

If anything happened along the way,

Wudang could claim they had done their best to protect the relic.

It was a symbolic gesture, nothing more.

‘A clear show of appearances.’

That might have been another reason for the Sword Queen’s sour mood.

Having pieced everything together, I approached the Sword Queen and spoke.

“Well then, I’ll be leaving first.”

I said casually that I would be departing.

The Sword Queen looked at me and replied.

“Leaving so soon?”

“Yes, I’m a bit busy.”

“You don’t have to leave immediately. Why not join us for a meal first?”

Her offer was kind, but I had to decline with a smile.

“Ryeonghwa is… sorry, I have urgent matters to attend to. Next time, perhaps.”

There was no hidden meaning in my refusal.

I was genuinely busy.

Time was far too tight to linger.

Perhaps my tone was a bit firm, as the Sword Queen gave a faint, bitter smile.

“I see… I suppose there’s no helping it.”

She seemed disappointed, but she understood that I was in a hurry.

Meanwhile, Gu Ryeonghwa still clung to my robe, refusing to let go.

“I’ll visit you next time.”

Carefully, I removed her hands and turned away.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—there were no calls for me to stop.

Or perhaps, I was just trying hard not to hear them.

I tried to focus on moving forward, pretending everything was fine.

But for some reason, my steps felt unusually heavy.

******************

After leaving Wudang, some time had passed.

I was walking through a cave.

The collapsed ceiling allowed faint light to seep through—it was moonlight.

Splash.

I continued walking, stepping through water that had pooled on the ground.

The dampness must have been the cause of the moss covering the walls. When I touched the surface with my fingers, I could feel the moisture clinging to it, an unpleasant sensation that made me click my tongue in irritation.

“Tch, of all places, why did it have to be somewhere like this?”

Geographically, it was somewhere between Hubei and Hannan, not too far from Wudang.

When I told them to pick a secluded spot, they’d clearly taken it to heart, choosing a place where not a single soul could be found.

Splash.

Ignoring the irritating sound of my steps, I kept moving forward.

It was impossible to know how long this cave had been here.

There were countless places like this, none of them particularly remarkable.

Yet every time I found myself in such caves, useless memories resurfaced.

Memories of a day when the rain poured relentlessly,

when I carried a bleeding woman on my back, running until my legs felt like they’d tear apart.

Recalling that day, I found myself smirking unconsciously.

Considering how far I had come since then, should I call it a moment of reflection?

The thought made me let out a hollow laugh.

‘Too peaceful a word for this kind of situation.’

I knew better than anyone that this wasn’t the time for such sentiments.

“Hey.”

A voice called out from behind me.

I turned my head, and the first thing I saw was Seong Yul’s characteristic pale face.

He hadn’t said a word the entire time we were moving, and now, he finally spoke.

“What?”

“What exactly are we here for?”

Hearing his question, I allowed myself a small smile.

It must have looked odd to him as well.

“To meet someone.”

“…Here?”

Seong Yul’s expression twisted slightly at my answer.

It was a natural reaction—this wasn’t a place where anyone would expect to meet someone.

“Exactly.”

I didn’t want to meet anyone here either, but there wasn’t much I could do about it.

“They said they’d all be gathered here.”

The others were already assembled. That much was certain.

With those words, I began walking again.

I clenched my fist slightly.

Wooong—!

The flow of my energy stirred, sweeping through my body before settling again.

It was a precaution to check my condition.

Tch.

Unsurprisingly, I wasn’t in great shape.

A single day wasn’t nearly enough for my body to recover, but I needed to confirm where I stood.

It was necessary to calculate my remaining time.

‘At most, two months.’

In my possession was a letter.

It detailed the purpose of diverting the Wudang Sword Saint’s focus and establishing a new Shinyong Corps through the Shinyong Martial Arts Festival.

There were only two months left until the festival began.

Which meant—

‘I’m about a month short.’

If it would take three months for my body to fully recover,

then I was a month behind schedule.

‘Two months might bring partial recovery, but…’

That wouldn’t be enough.

This period was critical, the true beginning of my plans.

I had to create the best possible conditions.

Tch.

If only I’d managed things a little better earlier.

‘The visit to Wudang disrupted everything.’

Visiting Wudang hadn’t been part of the original plan.

It was supposed to happen in the winter, at the earliest.

‘But it overlapped with Shin Noya’s matters, so I tried to combine them. That was a mistake.’

Had Yeongpung not suddenly claimed to be the successor of the Plum Blossom Sacred Sword,

I wouldn’t have diverted my course to Wudang so abruptly.

And I wouldn’t have ended up with these internal injuries.

‘It can’t be helped.’

This was something I had to address.

That’s why I’d made the decision to adjust my plans, even at the cost of some strain.

Fortunately, there had been gains.

‘First, confirmation that Yeongpung’s energy and the

Gui Jeong

held by Wudang are genuine.’

I didn’t know why

Gui Jeong

was in their possession in the first place,

but it was undeniably real.

If that was true—

‘Then what about this thing?’

What was this one tied to my left arm?

If their

Gui Jeong

was genuine, this one must be fake.

But if this one were fake, Shin Noya would have recognized it immediately.

Another possibility came to mind.

‘If there were originally two.’

Perhaps there had always been two

Gui Jeongs

.

After all, Shin Noya had never explicitly stated there was only one.

It was entirely plausible.

But—

‘Something still doesn’t add up.’

There were too many inconsistencies.

‘Yeongpung said he heard a voice.’

He claimed to have heard the voice of Shin Noya’s lingering thoughts.

‘Shin Noya left behind a fragment of his will?’

In the past, Shin Noya’s lingering will had resided within me.

Even Shin Noya hadn’t known why his will had been dormant.

So how could he have left a fragment of it elsewhere as a warning?

‘The pieces don’t fit.’

Clearly, something was twisted.

The presence of two

Gui Jeongs

, the vision Yeongpung experienced,

even the energy radiating from him now—

Everything pointed to a distortion.

‘I should have investigated further.’

Perhaps I should have held onto Yeongpung longer instead of sending him back to Mount Hua so quickly.

But I’d had my reasons for letting him go despite knowing better.

‘He’ll be at Hannan for the festival anyway.’

And there was another reason.

Something about Yeongpung’s reaction when Wudang’s

Gui Jeong

had rushed toward me…

‘And that faint energy within him.’

A subtle, acrid sensation that emanated from Yeongpung.

It was both familiar and unpleasant.

Normally, I would have kept him nearby for closer inspection.

But—

‘I couldn’t stay near him right now.’

Something in my instincts warned me against it.

Being around Yeongpung at this moment didn’t feel right.

Since he’d be at the festival soon enough, and my schedule was tight,

I’d made the unavoidable decision to send him off.

‘If only Shin Noya were here, this would’ve been resolved easily.’

Having that stubborn old man around would have made things simpler.

But I could only lament his absence.

‘Who can I blame?’

It wasn’t as if I could pretend otherwise.

After all, the reason Shin Noya’s will had vanished…

It was my doing.

Yes, Shin Noya was no longer here.

Shin Noya, his lingering will—

‘He’s gone to the afterlife.’

That was the pact we’d made.

Clunk.

Lost in thought, I eventually found myself facing a wall.

It looked like I’d need to change directions,

but instead, I reached out without hesitation.

Wooong—!

As if by magic, my hand passed through the wall.

The wall itself was an illusion.

Seeing this, I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“They really went all out.”

It was a barrier technique.

Even though it had only been a few days since they’d arrived,

they’d already set up such an elaborate barrier.

They really didn’t listen to reason.

I stepped forward without hesitation.

Wooong—!

My body passed through the wall.

The inside wasn’t much different from the outside.

The only notable change—

It was deathly quiet.

No sound of wind, no droplets falling from the walls—

just an eerie, bone-chilling silence.

I glanced around.

The broken ceiling allowed moonlight to filter through, creating an ethereal atmosphere.

The moss from the entrance had spread even further,

and jagged rocks protruded from all around.

And atop those rocks—

I felt the presence of ten gazes silently watching me.

Three pairs of ordinary eyes.

The rest shone in a brilliant violet hue, dazzlingly bright.

Seeing this, I opened my mouth.

“There’s no need for formalities.”

I skipped the pleasantries.

“Let’s get straight to the point.”

At my words, the cave trembled.

It felt like a mixture of killing intent and raw energy swirling together.

Violent energy coalesced in the air.

“In three months, we…”

I spoke, my voice calm but dripping with weariness.

The words that followed—

“…will attack Hannan.”

—were anything but light.