Chapter 944

“....”

“....”

For a moment, silence passed between us. Under the gradually setting sun, I locked eyes with Mongmong.

Crack.

The pressure on my neck seemed to intensify, but there was hesitation in his grip.

[Not true…? Really, not true?]

Mongmong asked again, his voice carrying the same strange sensation as before.

My heart tingled slightly at his words.

“Yes. It’s not true.”

I repeated my answer, just as easily as the first time.

It came out without the slightest resistance.

What was this?

Wasn’t this supposed to be like Dragon Speech?

The sensation reminded me of the power Blood Demon had once used on me, but the results were entirely different.

It barely grazed me and didn’t have any significant effect.

“Are you really not lying?”

He asked again, his tone growing more insistent.

What was I supposed to say?

“I said I’m not,” I replied, letting a hint of irritation creep into my voice.

His expression shifted. His eyes held a strange confusion, as if the situation didn’t make sense to him.

He fell silent again.

What’s he going to do now?

The pressure on my neck remained, unrelenting.

Should I just push him off and counterattack?

It was a tough decision.

I glanced at Cheonma.

Her eyes showed a faint determination, as if she were debating whether to step in.

If this kept up, things would go from bad to worse.

Voom.

I tensed my chest, preparing to break free of Mongmong’s grip when—

Srrrk.

The hand around my neck loosened and pulled away.

His beastly arm shrank back, returning to the slender, pale limb it had been before.

Rustle.

The debris from the shattered wall scattered to the ground, and I found my feet back on solid earth.

Rubbing my sore neck, I brushed the dust off my clothes.

“This is strange… why isn’t it true?”

Mongmong muttered, seemingly to himself.

“What isn’t true?” I asked, frowning.

“Well… uh…”

“You said you’d guide me, but was this your real purpose all along?”

“No, no, that’s not it…”

Mongmong waved his hands as if to dismiss the notion, then held his chin in thought.

“What is this? What’s really going on? There’s no way I’m wrong….”

I sighed, exhaling in disbelief.

“What exactly do you want from me?”

Mongmong’s gaze swept over me from head to toe, his pale green eyes moving quickly.

He seemed at a loss, wrapping one hand around his neck before finally speaking.

“Well… uh… sorry. Really, I’m sorry.”

He smiled sheepishly, patting my shoulder lightly.

The casualness of his tone was irritating, but I let it slide.

"This guy’s hiding something," I thought.

It was clear now—whatever Mongmong was, he wasn’t normal.

“Looks like I got the wrong idea. Haha, sorry about that.”

“You got the wrong idea and decided to choke me out?”

I began to question him further, but—

Whoosh!

A gust of wind swept by, followed by—

BOOOOM!!!

A thunderous explosion erupted to my left.

When I turned to look, I saw a massive hole punched clean through the wall.

“...”

The aftermath of Mongmong’s punch.

"This bastard," I thought, narrowing my eyes.

His once-muted presence now felt entirely different.

“Unstable.”

His forcibly compressed energy was fluctuating erratically.

By releasing some of the power he had been suppressing, his presence had surged dramatically.

“He’s strong.”

That much was undeniable.

I had suspected he was comparable to the ox-like chief I had faced before, and now I was certain.

“How strong?”

Even by Zhongyuan’s standards, he was at least among the top ten masters—

Maybe even comparable to those who had clashed with the Sword Emperor.

“Can I win?”

I quickly ran the calculations.

It was a habit of mine whenever I encountered a formidable or uncertain opponent.

Would I stand a chance against him in a fight?

Clench.

I lightly clenched my fist and rotated my energy briefly, assessing my condition.

"Hmm."

I wasn’t at my best. My left palm was still a wreck, and the aftereffects of using the Cheonma Divine Art had left my body shaken.

In my current state, the odds weren’t good.

Especially—

"That punch just now."

His fist had moved so fast I could barely see it, even without heightening my senses.

He wasn’t someone to take lightly.

"This won’t do."

Even with Cheonma on my side, it wasn’t a guarantee.

But relying on her felt wrong.

She was still, fundamentally, an enemy.

No matter how oddly cooperative she seemed now, I had to keep that in mind.

Which meant—

"I can’t fight him."

I made my decision.

A fight here would be a mistake.

Just then—

"If you follow this path, you’ll reach the Black Clan," Mongmong said, awkwardly laughing as he pointed beyond the hole he’d made.

Through the rubble, I could see the Black Clan’s mansion in the distance.

"Did he clear the way for me?" I thought.

He had demolished the walls just to let me through?

"What a reckless bastard."

I frowned.

“Sorry about earlier. I really didn’t know. Haha, what a mess,” Mongmong said, still smiling sheepishly.

“What exactly are you?” I asked, my voice tinged with suspicion.

At my question, Mongmong paused, his eyes widening slightly.

“Well, knowing might not be good for you. Are you sure you want to know?”

“In that case, I’ll just pretend I don’t.”

“Quick thinker, huh?”

“I try to avoid unnecessary trouble.”

Of course, trouble seemed to follow me everywhere, no matter what I did.

“Hmm, fair enough,” Mongmong said, nodding repeatedly.

“That’s probably for the best.”

Then, with the same grin as before, he added:

“If you’re really curious, you can ask the black kid over there.”

“...”

The black kid.

I immediately understood who he meant. The issue was—

"He referred to the clan leader as a kid."

I still didn’t fully understand how things worked here, but nobles clearly held significant authority.

For Mongmong to casually refer to a clan leader as a “kid”…

As I processed this, Mongmong clasped his hands together and bowed slightly.

“It was fun. I’m really, really sorry.”

He smiled and waved as if to dismiss me.

After causing all this chaos, he was now sending me on my way.

What an absurd guy.

It was absurd, yet—

"He’s really just letting me go."

At least we wouldn’t have to fight right now, which was a relief.

Without changing my expression, I turned to walk away.

“Oh, by the way…”

Mongmong called out one more time.

“You said you’re from Mount Hua, and your name is Cheol Ji-seon, right?”

“…Ah, yes.”

Mount Hua.

He must’ve figured it out from my attire. I was wearing the uniform they had provided.

“Got it. I’ll remember that. See you next time?”

“...”

I’d rather not see him again if I could help it.

I wanted to say as much, but—

"…This isn’t good."

My instincts told me otherwise—that I’d be running into him again sooner than I’d like.

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

Breaking through the ruined street, I headed toward the Black Clan.

It hadn’t been my original destination, but somehow, I’d ended up here anyway.

“Who…?”

The guard at the mansion’s entrance raised his weapon aggressively, much like the one at the main gate of the fortress.

However, the moment he saw the token in my hand, he froze.

After that, everything went smoothly.

With just the token, I bypassed all the formalities and entered without issue.

I was glad I had accepted the token. It had proven more useful than I expected.

Inside, I made my way to a large door.

As the guide leading me hesitated, his trembling hand poised to knock—

[Come in.]

A voice echoed from inside.

Creak.

The door opened on its own, and I stepped in naturally.

The interior was as dark as it had been during my last visit.

A single table sat in the middle of the pitch-black room, and behind it, a man with jet-black hair was seated.

“We meet again.”

“A pleasure to see you.”

“This time, your companion seems different.”

The Black Clan’s leader glanced at Cheonma.

“Yes. Your son was a bit preoccupied.”

Of course, he wasn’t busy at all—I just hadn’t bothered to bring him.

Not that the leader seemed to care.

It was clear that this family was as dysfunctional as my own.

“Well then, what brings you here again…?”

As he moved straight to the point, I raised a hand to stop him.

“Ah, I need to ask something first.”

This matter was more urgent.

“…?”

The leader gave me a curious look.

I explained, “I ran into someone on my way here.”

I described my encounter with Mongmong in detail.

The more I spoke, the more the leader’s expression soured.

Judging by his reaction, he knew who Mongmong was.

By the time I mentioned how Mongmong had punched a hole through the wall for me to walk through, the leader sighed.

“…I see.”

His tone was troubled.

“So, the General came to find you.”

Hearing that, I narrowed my eyes.

Just as I thought.

"So, it was him."

Someone who could casually dismiss the clan leader as a child and treat the fortress like his personal playground.

One of the four rulers under my mother’s command.

Mongmong wasn’t just anyone—

He was the true ruler of Yahwol Palace.

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

"So, like I was saying last time..."

"No, listen. At the weapons shop this time..."

Above the noisy street filled with overlapping conversations stood a young man with green hair, perched atop the roof of a building.

The building wasn’t particularly tall, nor particularly low—just enough to give him a view of the street below.

Though he appeared to be a young man, his features were youthful enough to be mistaken for a boy.

“Hmmm…”

He rolled his eyes in thought, as though grappling with a troublesome puzzle.

“This is strange.”

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t make sense of it.

He recalled the pair he had just encountered.

The sharp-eyed young man dressed in white robes with black hair, and the beautiful woman at his side.

Of the two, it was the man who occupied his mind.

“What is he?”

What could he possibly be?

“There was definitely something off…”

Even now, the memory unsettled him. His intuition had never been wrong before, and he didn’t believe it was wrong this time either.

When he had spotted the man from his vantage point overlooking Yahwol—

An unexplainable vibration had coursed through his back.

An overwhelming sensation that screamed at him:

"Go. Go now and catch him. Find out what he is."

The feeling was so overpowering that he had acted immediately, approaching the man to confirm his suspicions.

But then—

“He said it wasn’t him?”

The man had denied it.

“Hmmm…?”

That response didn’t make sense.

“Was he really not lying?”

It wasn’t as though he’d simply said no—anyone could do that.

“I used Myeong (鳴), and he still said no.”

The question he had posed wasn’t a simple one.

Anyone within the realm of Mangye bore its indelible imprint.

The Master of Mangye stood above all, and just beneath them were the generals.

The generals wielded the power to embed their souls into their words, issuing absolute commands to those of lower rank.

If they said to crawl, one had to crawl.

If they commanded death, one had to die.

Such was the immutable law etched into the very foundation of Mangye.

"He really said no?"

When the young man had spoken with the full force of his authority, the response he received was outright denial.

“That’s… bizarre.”

How could this happen?

His instincts told him the man was guilty, yet the response contradicted it.

This was the first time anything like this had occurred since he had become a general.

It shouldn’t have been possible.

For his intuition to be wrong would be unthinkable—his power was intrinsically tied to the laws of Mangye itself.

“Hmmm…”

Was he truly mistaken?

It was hard to believe, but reality seemed to suggest otherwise.

There was no other explanation.

If Myeong had been invoked, it was impossible to lie.

This was an absolute law of the world, incapable of change.

And yet—

"There’s just one possibility."

There was one scenario in which someone could lie under the command of a general.

And that was—

"If he’s a being higher than a general."

A presence greater than a general of Mangye, second only to its Master.

In such a case, Myeong would have no effect.

“Hahaha! Ridiculous.”

The young man dismissed the thought immediately.

Above him was only the Master of Mangye.

There was no way that boy could outrank him.

"My intuition must’ve been wrong this time."

He nodded to himself, convincing himself it had been a mistake.

Such a thing could never happen—of that, he was certain.

“If necessary, I’ll confirm it next time.”

He was sure they would meet again soon. His instincts told him so.

And his instincts, he believed, were never wrong.