Chapter 687

‘This is something.’

The sunlight streaming through the iron bars evoked a strange emotion.

The air felt slightly damp.

Despite the incoming light, the space was curiously dark.

Though somewhat maintained, there were still oddly worn items around.

Looking at these things, I couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

‘So this is how it turned out.’

This was an interrogation room, a space furnished with a chair and a desk.

It was located in the underground level of the Alliance, a place that, given time, would be used for a different purpose.

‘I never thought I’d return here.’

What I was looking at now was an intact wall, but in the future, this wall would be demolished, and iron bars would be installed.

Currently, it was an interrogation room, but by then, it would be called a prison.

Yes, this place was identical to the underground prison where I had died in my past life.

The only difference now was that it was being used as an interrogation room.

Realizing this, I gazed around, and a peculiar sentiment crept in.

A mixture of unease from returning to the place where I had died in my previous life, and a sense of dissonance from the fact that I had arrived here in a slightly different context.

As I was immersed in these thoughts, turning my gaze elsewhere—

Click.

Clatter.

A sound came from the front.

It was the noise of something being poured into a teacup.

I looked at the old man pouring tea into the cup in front of me.

The robe he wore symbolized his affiliation with the Alliance.

Beneath it, the insignia of Wudang could be seen faintly.

The room was filled with a subtle but profound aura of martial energy, the kind that could only belong to a true martial artist, not an amateur.

The presence it exuded made my skin crawl, reminiscent of the sensation I felt when I first encountered the Sword Emperor.

The old man before me evoked a similar feeling, no less intense.

‘Well, of course.’

Just as the Sword Emperor was among the top ten masters,

this old man was no different. It was only natural.

As the tea finished pouring, the old man’s sharp gaze turned toward me.

“It’s been a while.”

At the elder’s greeting, I took a moment to steady my breath.

“Yes, it has been a while, Sect Leader… No, I suppose I should address you as the Alliance Leader now.”

Before me sat the Wudang Sect’s leader, the Wudang Sword Saint,

the one currently in charge of the Martial Alliance.

At my words, the Sword Saint’s lips curved into a slight smile.

“Call me whatever you wish. Being the Wudang Sect Leader is still a name I must bear.”

I nodded slightly at his words.

‘Still the Wudang Sect Leader, huh.’

Something about the order of priorities felt off.

‘It sounds like the title of Alliance Leader takes precedence.’

It’s true that the Sword Saint’s involvement with Wudang had been gradually decreasing.

I’d heard he had even appointed a deputy Sect Leader to reduce his responsibilities there.

Hearing him speak this way confirmed the feeling.

‘This must mean the Martial Alliance is more important to him now.’

From the Alliance’s perspective, this would be seen as a favorable development.

‘There’s a reason no Sect Leaders have been appointed as Alliance Leaders for centuries.’

Thinking back on the history of Alliance Leaders, there were a few family heads among them, but the Sword Saint was the first Sect Leader to hold the position.

The reason wasn’t complicated.

‘Most Sect Leaders value their sects above all else.’

As was typical of those affiliated with sects, many prioritized their sects over their own lives.

And being the Sect Leader, the most important figure in the sect, made it even less likely for people to entrust them with the Alliance.

Moreover, with their nature as Daoists, who pursued enlightenment above all, the idea of them engaging in politics was inherently mistrusted.

‘But this old man is something else.’

The Sword Saint—this elder—seemed, for better or worse, perfectly suited to the title of Alliance Leader.

He’d always shown an unusual attachment to worldly matters, even for a Daoist.

As I met his gaze, the Sword Saint spoke to me.

“I heard there was an incident involving someone precious, so I decided to come see for myself.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m particularly precious….”

“Ha ha. Of course, you are. Late bloomers like you are the future of the orthodox factions. How could you not be precious?”

“Well, thank you for saying so.”

Though I didn’t feel grateful in the least, I put on a sweet smile.

There was no point in being blunt here.

“So, I heard there was an incident with a senior martial artist.”

“It was just a minor misunderstanding that led to a scuffle.”

“A scuffle over a misunderstanding, hmm….”

Hearing this, the Alliance Leader’s smile deepened.

Seeing it, I had to suppress the unease rising within me.

‘I didn’t think this man would come in person.’

I’d expected to face a simple investigation, not a personal visit from the Alliance Leader himself.

If anyone, I thought the Sword Emperor might show up.

‘What’s going on?’

Why would this elder come to see me? I racked my brain.

It couldn’t be that he truly came because a mere late-stage cultivator like me got into a fight.

I already knew that wasn’t his way.

“For something minor, it seems the matter unfolded quite peculiarly.”

“...”

“They said you fought the Oil Sword to a draw. Is that true?”

That idiot.

With so many openings, how could I not strike?

I’d intended to keep things moderate, but the guy was so weak that I ended up crushing him harder than expected.

‘I can’t exactly admit to that….’

I carefully chose my words.

“It was a mix of chance and a miracle. Senior Oil Sword was very lenient with me.”

“A miracle, you say….”

The Sword Saint’s expression grew peculiar.

Seeing it, I narrowed my eyes slightly.

“No matter how miraculous, your potential is undeniable. Truly impressive.”

“It’s not as much as you say. As I mentioned, Senior Oil Sword was very lenient.”

“The Sword Emperor told me himself—he couldn’t gauge the extent of your abilities.”

“...”

I tried to remain humble, but the words that followed made me fall silent.

This was unexpected.

If what the Sword Saint said was true, then this was a mistake.

‘…Damn, I should’ve suppressed it more.’

I had deliberately revealed some of my abilities when facing the Sword Emperor, but apparently, even that wasn’t enough.

A clear oversight.

‘I underestimated my own level.’

I thought I’d concealed myself to a level the Sword Emperor could easily discern.

I should have gone lower.

“Perhaps the Sword Emperor was just tired that day.”

“The Sword Emperor? Ha ha.”

The Sword Saint laughed.

Of course.

That cold, calculating man wouldn’t make mistakes because he was tired.

Though referred to as the Alliance Leader’s bodyguard,

he was, in essence, the guardian of the Martial Alliance itself.

The Iron-Blooded Sword Emperor.

That was his epithet.

The Sword Saint knew this well, hence his laughter, while I inwardly sighed.

“At first, I thought you’d mastered an unusual martial art. But seeing you in person, I realize it’s something else entirely.”

As the Sword Saint continued, his intentions became clearer.

“You’re strong. Much stronger than the world realizes.”

“Well, I don’t get called weak wherever I go.”

I shifted my expression. I tried to keep it neutral, but it was pointless now.

I threw out a casual remark, but the Sword Saint’s expression remained unchanged.

Though he smiled, his gaze carried a profound dryness, rare even for a Daoist.

“It seems Zhongyuan has been blessed with something extraordinary.”

“Alliance Leader.”

I interrupted him and spoke directly.

“It seems you have something to say. This humble junior will listen attentively.”

Stop beating around the bush and get to the point.

That was the intent behind my words. The Sword Saint’s smile faltered slightly.

‘I’m getting tired of the guessing game.’

It was becoming clear why the Alliance Leader had come to see me.

The duel with Oil Sword seemed to be an issue, but there was more to it.

‘It’s my strength that seems to be the problem.’

Strength far exceeding expectations.

It seemed that my possession of such power was causing some kind of issue.

“I hear you plan to participate in the Bi-mu-je. Is that true?”

“Yes. Since it’s an event directly organized by the Martial Alliance, I thought it was only proper for a member of the orthodox factions to participate.”

I veiled my true intentions in my words.

I made it sound like I was simply participating in the Alliance’s tournament out of obligation.

“As someone inexperienced, I thought it would be a valuable learning opportunity.”

“Yes, it will undoubtedly be a precious experience for all martial artists.”

“Yes, I’m looking forward to it greatly.”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but there’s something you should know.”

“I’m listening.”

I focused my gaze on the Sword Saint.

“Given the internal conflict within the Alliance, there’s a possibility that your participation rights in the Bi-mu-je could be revoked.”

The Sword Saint’s words made my eyes widen immediately.

“What…! Is that true?”

Feigning shock, I covered my mouth with my hand.

“I had no idea…! I didn’t realize such a serious matter was at stake!”

“Depending on the circumstances, you may not be able to participate.”

“I see….”

Lowering my eyes, I put on a look of regret.

Then, I continued speaking.

“If that’s the Alliance’s law, I will comply with your decision. After all, it is my fault.”

I smiled as I spoke.

If they wanted to exclude me, I was fine with it.

This was genuine.

‘Judging by his demeanor, there’s something going on.’

If the Alliance Leader himself had come to observe me, there had to be some underlying issue.

I intended to see if they could really exclude me.

When I first entered, I already had a plan in mind.

They couldn’t remove me.

‘To be precise, they can’t remove someone connected to Oil Sword.’

While it was true that a conflict occurred, the involvement of someone from the Hundred Grandmasters of Zhongyuan made this a different matter altogether.

A member of the Hundred Grandmasters participating in the Bi-mu-je would bring immense value to the tournament’s reputation.

Would the Martial Alliance really exclude such a figure over a minor incident? That would be a significant loss for them.

Hence, they would try to smooth things over no matter what.

By now, rumors about me must have already spread.

‘A young man who stood against a Grandmaster… That sort of talk.’

It would pique interest.

The Martial Alliance wouldn’t discard that so easily.

Especially in times when they needed attention, even more so.

Soon enough, I would likely be let off the hook.

‘That’s what I assumed coming in.’

But the Sword Saint’s reaction made me realize there was something different.

‘If they were to exclude me, it would mean there’s a significant reason behind it.’

Normally, breaking the rules would naturally lead to disqualification, but the Martial Alliance didn’t handle matters that way.

‘This was a kind of trust in its own way.’

The belief that they absolutely wouldn’t act in such a way.

Because I understood this, if they were to exclude me even in this situation—

‘It would mean they’re undoubtedly orchestrating something behind the scenes.’

And it would be proof that I was an obstacle to their plans.

If I had that proof, all I’d need to do was adjust my plans accordingly.

‘The Bi-mu-je? Screw it, I can just skip it.’

The plan involving Bong Soon was currently on the back burner,

but if things went awry, I could immediately make use of it without any issues.

With that conclusion, I turned my gaze toward the Sword Saint.

“...”

Silence lingered.

After hearing my words, the Sword Saint was now staring at me.

I didn’t avert my gaze and met his eyes directly.

What choice would he make?

What would he say?

Curiosity filled me as I kept watching him.

“Haha.”

The Sword Saint chuckled again.

“There’s no need to worry so much. Today… I simply came to see you out of curiosity.”

“Ah, I see.”

“The interrogation is already over, so you’ll likely be released soon. This meeting was arranged on my whim, so I apologize if I wasted your time.”

“That’s very reassuring to hear.”

It seemed, as expected, that nothing major was happening.

“I’ll have to verify things internally, but there probably won’t be any further issues.”

The Alliance Leader’s words sounded almost like a confirmation.

“We can’t let a rising star of Zhongyuan be held back by such trivial matters, can we?”

“…A rising star, you say. That’s an embarrassing description.”

As if I had any intention of being just a “star.”

Clatter.

The Sword Saint spoke as he stood up from his seat.

“Sorry for taking up your time. I hope we meet again under different circumstances.”

It seemed our conversation had come to an end.

Even though we didn’t talk much, had the Sword Saint achieved his objective?

‘Or maybe he judged that it wasn’t worth pursuing further right now.’

Whatever the case, the Sword Saint had come to me with a purpose.

Just knowing that was enough for now.

Still smiling, the Sword Saint turned to me and said,

“I hope you achieve great results in the Bi-mu-je.”

“Thank you for your kind words. I’ll do my best.”

“Oh, by the way, I heard you’re a friend of our child.”

Naturally, the child he referred to was Woo Hyuk.

“Yes, we’re as close as can be.”

“He’s always been a source of worry for me, but it seems he’s made an exceptional friend. I hope you’ll continue to get along with him.”

“Haha…”

I chuckled at his words.

Though honestly, it wasn’t funny at all.

In my past life, this man had told Woo Hyuk to his face not to associate with someone like me.

Now he was saying things like this?

And what’s more—

‘A source of worry, huh?’

What utter nonsense.

The man who threw Woo Hyuk away like garbage in my past life now claimed to have been worried about him?

‘Why did Woo Hyuk die, then?’

Wudang’s actions were partly to blame for that, and yet here he was, acting like a virtuous Sect Leader. It was enough to make me nauseous.

But I held it in. I had to hold it in.

“Yes. I’ll make sure to take good care of him.”

“Good, good. Thank you.”

Clack.

The Sword Saint finally left, closing the door behind him.

Only after the door shut did I let the smile fade from my face.

‘This isn’t easy.’

It truly wasn’t easy.

There were far too many people in this world deserving of retribution.

I knew this better than anyone.

Which is why…

It really wasn’t easy.

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

Not even half a shichen (roughly one hour) had passed after the Sword Saint left, and I was finally allowed to leave the Alliance headquarters.

As I followed the Alliance members escorting me outside, something suddenly popped into my face.

“…What is this?”

“It’s tofu,” Tang So-yeol replied cheerfully.

“This is ridiculous.”

Tang So-yeol handed me a piece of tofu with a bright smile.

I cautiously took it and bit into it.

It tasted good… really well-made.

“You must have had a hard time. Are you okay?”

“What’s there to be not okay about? I just sat around and came out.”

It wasn’t difficult at all.

The so-called ‘interrogation’ was mostly them tiptoeing around and asking me a few questions.

Oil Sword probably didn’t say much, either.

‘He wouldn’t dare talk about it out of sheer embarrassment.’

Martial artists are like that.

They love boasting about their victories, but they’ll keep their mouths shut about their defeats.

Especially when it comes to a senior martial artist who nearly got his groin shattered while hitting on a woman. How could he possibly talk about that?

‘Honestly, I should’ve broken it for good.’

If I had kicked a little harder, it would have been done for. But I controlled myself; breaking it might’ve caused too many issues.

Let’s say I left him at a level where treatment was possible.

‘That’s my specialty, after all.’

It’s a sophisticated form of torture, something only someone experienced can pull off.

And that someone is me.

While chewing on the tofu in my hand, I asked Tang So-yeol, “Where’s that guy?”

I was referring to Oil Sword.

He must have left before me. Hopefully, nothing happened.

“Oh… he did leave earlier, but he glared at us for a bit and then disappeared.”

“Is that so?”

It seemed there were no further confrontations.

“Why were you guys waiting here? I told you to go ahead earlier.”

Before entering the Alliance headquarters, I had told Wi Seol-ah and Tang So-yeol they could leave, but it seemed they’d waited for me to come out.

Bong Soon and Seong Yul, on the other hand, seemed to have disappeared quietly.

Good. If those two had stayed and waited, it would’ve been more of a hassle, so it was better they weren’t around.

“How could we leave first? You were taken in because of me.”

Tang So-yeol looked glum as she spoke, and I burst out laughing.

“Did it look like I was being dragged off?”

“Whether you went willingly or not, it’s still true that you went because of me… If only I’d held back a little more.”

“Nothing happened, so what’s the big deal? And held back from what?”

I patted Tang So-yeol on the head as I spoke.

“If you hadn’t held back, I’d have made a bigger mess. That’s what it means.”

If anything, the situation was resolved because Tang So-yeol had gotten angry.

I still didn’t know what exactly she said to make Oil Sword that furious, but it wasn’t a big problem.

‘It did draw some extra attention, but that’s no big deal.’

People paying more attention to me? That wasn’t something I particularly cared about.

“So, stop making that face and let’s go eat something.”

I spoke casually and was about to lead Wi Seol-ah and Tang So-yeol away when—

“Ah, Young Master…”

Tang So-yeol avoided my hand and said, “I’ve seen you come out now, so I’ll head off first.”

“Where are you going?”

Where could she be going without even eating?

At my question, Tang So-yeol smiled and replied, “I have something to take care of. I’ll be back before it gets too late.”

“…Alright. Take care.”

She said she had business to attend to, so I didn’t press further.

Lately, Tang So-yeol had been disappearing often, but I trusted she’d handle things well.

After Tang So-yeol left for somewhere—

“What should we eat? Dumplings again?”

Recalling the dumplings I had last time, I asked, and Wi Seol-ah smiled brightly.

“I’m fine with anything.”

“Alright, let’s go then.”

I brushed Wi Seol-ah’s hair gently and started walking slowly.

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

As predicted by both the Sword Saint and Gu Yangcheon, rumors began to spread quietly through Hanam.

A young martial artist had fought the Hundred Grandmaster Oil Sword, and the match ended without a clear winner.

These accounts came from those who had witnessed the confrontation firsthand, spreading the tale through words and whispers.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“If you’re going to make up a story, at least make it believable.”

Naturally, most dismissed the story as nonsense.

But—

“I’m telling you, it’s true! I saw it myself!”

“I swear, I saw it too!”

The sheer number of witnesses and the speed at which the story was shared ensured the rumor spread quickly.

A young martial artist.

Not just any martial artist, but one of the

late-bloomer elite

clashing evenly with a member of the Hundred Grandmasters.

That alone was enough to set the surrounding area abuzz.

“Oil Sword is one of the absolute masters, but who is this person who fought him?”

“I heard his name is So Yeomra.”

“So Yeomra…? Could it be someone from the Celestial Dragon Pavilion…?”

Even news of the man whom the Beggar’s Sect and the Alliance had deliberately silenced began to resurface.

“They called him a new hero back then, but it’s only been a few years… How could that even be possible, no matter how much of a genius he is?”

“Oil Sword is surely a Hwagyeong-level martial artist. If someone fought him on equal footing, does that mean So Yeomra has also reached Hwagyeong?”

“That’s absurd. So Yeomra just recently came of age! How could he possibly reach Hwagyeong? It’s not some random dog’s name!”

“Why is that so hard to believe? Didn’t the Celestial Dragon reach Hwagyeong?”

“Well, that’s because he’s the Celestial Dragon!”

“Did you forget that So Yeomra was also called a True Dragon? Back then, there were rumors about him being the youngest to reach Hwagyeong!”

“But the Martial Alliance officially recognized the Celestial Dragon as the True Dragon…”

The debates were endless.

That one brief fight had sparked a heated atmosphere, something Gu Yangcheon had not anticipated.

Or rather, it was far greater than he had expected.

Was the rumor true?

Had So Yeomra truly reached Hwagyeong?

If so, when did he achieve it, and what did it mean for the earlier rumors?

And if the rumors were true—

What would it mean for the value of the Celestial Dragon, who had been officially recognized by the Alliance?

This swirling speculation turned into a small whirlwind of gossip in Hanam.

“Here you go.”

“So So Yeomra is… here…?”

“And Oil Sword, apparently…”

The surrounding chatter was constant.

Hearing this, a young man with jet-black hair wore an expression of faint disbelief.

It was as if he was suppressing a sigh of exasperation.

“What kind of trouble has he gotten himself into this time? Tsk tsk…”

He had been away for a short time due to some matters, but it seemed chaos had ensued in his absence.

‘This is the same guy who said he was embarrassed to stand out. Why even bother holding back if this is how it’s going to be?’

What a ridiculous fool.

And yet, raising such a fool himself was equally absurd.

The young man handed another letter to the martial artist at the desk.

“Hmm?”

The receptionist’s eyes widened slightly as they read the letter.

“So-Seoanbi Family’s Biyo-jin… Young Master. Your identity has been confirmed.”

The young man, Biyo-jin, smiled faintly at the receptionist’s words.

As the receptionist carefully prepared an identification token, Biyo-jin handed over yet another letter.

“Oh, and this is something my master asked me to deliver.”

“Pardon?”

“My master regrets that he is too busy to attend personally and wanted me to pass on his apologies.”

“What does that…”

Without another word, Biyo-jin handed over the letter.

The receptionist opened it and—

“Wha…!”

Their expression turned to sheer shock, and their body began trembling uncontrollably.

And with good reason—

“P-Pa… Paejon…!”

The letter was from none other than Paejon Bijoo, the Warlord of the Martial Alliance, and one of the Three Supreme Elders of the orthodox factions.

As the receptionist stood frozen, trembling with the letter in hand, Biyo-jin casually grabbed his identification token and walked away.

“I’ve delivered everything, so I’ll be on my way.”

“W-Wait—!! Young Master Biyo-jin…!”

The receptionist called out urgently, but Biyo-jin had already disappeared.

On the second day of Bi-mu-je registration, Toulong ("Fighting Dragon") Biyo-jin submitted Paejon’s letter along with his application to participate in the Bi-mu-je.

This effectively confirmed one thing: Toulong was officially recognized as Paejon’s direct disciple.

It wasn’t long before Hanam was filled with yet another wave of rumors.