Chapter 21

Cheon Eujin’s identity known, there was one question that had always nagged at me.

Why on earth had he come here? For what reason? I hadn’t been able to understand it until now.

Of course. The Blue Moon Sect is based in Henan and wields tremendous influence.

The monster who ended the blood war—Yoo Cheongil—was one of theirs, and a large share of past Martial Alliance Leaders came out of the Blue Moon Sect.

That’s how colossal their footing is.

Cheon Eujin is from that very place.

The current Sect Master’s son, no less.

Even the people of the Five Great Clans or the Ten Great Sects can’t treat him lightly; Cheon Eujin is precisely the sort of person you don’t handle carelessly.

‘So why in the world did he come all the way to Anhui?’

I couldn’t tell. Why pick Anhui of all places? And to come to the Martial Alliance’s Anhui Branch with his identity hidden.

It makes no sense unless there’s a purpose.

‘So this was the reason.’

Only now could I see it.

The great saber before my eyes—rusted, time-worn, and even broken.

If this really is, as the old man says, the Sword Saint’s beloved blade, that’s reason enough.

On top of that—

‘Judging by his reaction, most people don’t know he has it.’

If you pressed the point, the Namgung side likely doesn’t know either. If they did, Namgung Seong wouldn’t have treated Cheon Eujin like that.

‘Granted, that’s purely my guess.’

Even if they knew, his attitude might not change.

Because—

‘Someone’s already backing Namgung Seong.’

He’s had someone at his back for a while. Someone big enough that Cheon Eujin doesn’t measure up.

‘And in that situation, Cheon Eujin came to Anhui.’

If his objective is this great saber... then the clearer reason is—

‘The need for symbolism.’

The meaning this great saber carries—that itself is what he needed.

‘If it’s the Sword Saint’s beloved blade, there’s nothing more to say.’

Then why is that symbolism necessary here?

Once you get this far, you don’t need to agonize long.

‘...Obviously, for a fight over the seat.’

This ties into Namgung Seong’s backer. From the looks of it, the Blue Moon Sect is in the middle of a scramble over positions.

Namgung Seong’s reaction alone says as much, and if that weren’t the case, Cheon Eujin wouldn’t have brought up the Young Lord.

From this you can read the Blue Moon Sect’s condition to a degree.

‘Looks like it’s drifting toward a bit of a mess...’

In that situation, Cheon Eujin securing a symbol is no small advantage.

I hate to admit it, but the Sword Saint carries grave meaning not only for the Blue Moon Sect, but for the entire Central Plains.

‘Only, the problem is...’

In Cheon Eujin’s view, I am now...

‘Someone who seems to have come to Anhui seeking this symbol.’

And the one he wants to hand that hard-won symbol to is me.

So what should I do?

What do you think.

“...That’s right.”

With things like this, my answer was set.

“As you expected, Young Master Cheon, I also came to Anhui to find the great Sword Saint’s beloved blade.”

[Great?]

I chose to ignore the sly, smirking voice in the middle.

“...I knew it...”

At my words, Cheon Eujin nodded again and again, as if impressed.

As expected, my guess had been right.

“I wondered why Young Master Bang would be in Anhui rather than Henan... so it was for the same reason as me.”

“Th... at’s right.”

Not really. I just came hoping life might open up a little. How was I supposed to know—

—that my life would twist into this kind of shit.

That thought was so bitter a sigh almost slipped out.

“In that case...”

Cheon Eujin rose quietly and offered me a bow.

Seeing that, I reacted as if startled.

“Young Master Cheon. What are you doing?”

“...It seems I’ve snatched away the precious item you were searching for. I’m sorry.”

At that I narrowed my eyes a touch. What was he getting at—

‘He thinks he swooped in and grabbed it first.’

I’d worked the Martial Alliance grind for a year; he’d only just arrived. From where he’s standing, that’s how it looks.

‘I’ve thought this for a while—he’s more naive than he looks.’

And if so, apologizing like this is odd.

If it were me, I wouldn’t apologize; I’d just gulp it down and play dumb.

[Bravo.]

...What the hell? I didn’t say that out loud, did I?

“There’s no need. I couldn’t find it, and thanks to you, Young Master Cheon, I did.”

“...But—”

“As I said, there’s no need to worry about it. I truly don’t mind.”

“...”

Putting real sincerity into it, I told him I was fine, and Cheon Eujin bit his lip with a complicated look.

“...Then, Young Master Bang.”

“Yes.”

“If it’s possible... would you accept this relic?”

“...”

This time it was my turn to fall silent at Cheon Eujin’s words.

For the record, intentional silence. I’d already expected he would bring this up.

“...What do you mean? You’re the one who found this blade, Young Master Cheon. Why give it to me...?”

I asked, feigning innocence.

“...This is none other than the Sword Saint’s beloved blade. Shouldn’t it go to his inheritor?”

Cheon Eujin said it with a wry smile.

I could tell there was at least a thin thread of regret woven into that smile.

“Young Master Cheon.”

“Just one promise, please.”

With a grave expression, Cheon Eujin added:

“...In exchange for receiving this, please become the Blue Moon Sect’s Young Lord.”

“...”

At that, I knit my brows.

“...Young Lord. I wondered this before as well—why do you want me to become Young Lord so badly?”

“...”

“If you want it, you could do it yourself.”

Isn’t that why you came all this way? You even got what you wanted—so you could just take the position yourself...

‘Why keep pressing me to do it?’

I couldn’t understand, so I asked.

But—

“...”

Cheon Eujin only held a set face and gave no particular answer.

That stance meant only one thing.

Will you do it or not—that was what he was asking.

“Hm...”

In truth, I had only one choice.

I reached out toward the blade. Just as my hand moved to close around the hilt—

“Ah, Young Master Cheon.”

I called to him.

“...Yes?”

“It’s not really an exchange, but... may I ask one favor as well?”

“What...?”

“Ah, don’t worry.”

I tightened my grip on the hilt as I spoke.

“It won’t be a difficult favor.”

****

I stepped outside carrying the wooden case. It was still dawn.

“...Urgh...”

I groaned as I walked. The case was heavier than I’d expected; it was a real strain.

[Tsk, tsk... A grown man can’t even carry that?]

“...This is... heavier... than I thought...”

He’d lifted it so easily I assumed it was light, but it was beyond anything I’d imagined.

Why is a beat-up old blade this heavy?

A wooden case isn’t all that heavy; something was off.

“This is killing me...”

Sweat streamed down. I gritted through it and kept moving, and the old man kept clicking his tongue.

[Good grief, what a weakling.]

“No, I’m telling you—it’s really heavy...?”

[If you can’t carry a blade forged of cold iron, what are you even doing?]

“Cold iron or whatever, I’m telling you it’s really—”

The words died and my body went stiff. Did I hear that wrong...?

“...Old man.”

[What is it.]

“What did you just say it was forged from...?”

[Hm?]

The old man wore a look of not knowing what I meant.

[Cold iron, I said.]

“...Cold iron? This ugly, beat-up antique...?”

[Yes. Forged from ten-thousand-year cold iron brought straight from the North Sea.]

“This ugly, beat-up antique...?”

[...Why say it twice?]

Why? Because it’s absurd.

‘Cold iron? Ten-thousand-year cold iron?’

Cold iron isn’t even comparable to ordinary steel. It’s rare, and artisans who can forge weapons from it are limited; for a swordsman, a blade of cold iron is the lifelong dream.

‘...And ten-thousand-year cold iron at that.’

A sword forged from the most prized cold iron?

‘...Should I just sell it and run?’

Sell this one thing and I could live easy for life...

Knowing that, greed flared ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) up for a heartbeat.

[Stop the useless thoughts and keep moving.]

As if he’d already read my mind, the old man doused me.

[You know perfectly well you can’t sell it, so quit the nonsense.]

“...”

At that, I had to scowl hard.

Right. I can’t sell this sword. Not only is it ten-thousand-year cold iron...

‘If it goes on the market, it won’t be long before it’s revealed as Yoo Cheongil’s relic.’

Then things snarl violently.

It’s not some common blade; trouble will explode from every direction.

‘And I’ll get dragged in fast.’

Even as the seller, I wouldn’t escape the blowback.

Now that I’ve accepted it, selling isn’t an option.

“...Damn it.”

What a waste. Such a waste. I felt like I could cry.

[...Sigh.]

The old man watched me and let out a long breath, and I, with tears in my voice, hefted the case and kept moving.

I was trudging on in silence when—

[By the way.]

The old man spoke behind me.

[Why aren’t you asking?]

“...”

His voice was sly and full of mischief. I ignored him and walked.

Then—

[Someone like you would’ve already noticed what’s odd. Why aren’t you asking?]

He popped up right in front of me now and asked.

Damn it... I’d hoped to just skate past, but he clearly wasn’t going to let me.

‘Rot.’

Cursing inside, I spoke to him.

“...Ask what? I don’t know anything.”

[Do you? I doubt that...]

“I don’t know how highly you think of me, old man, but...”

[If you guess what I’m asking, I’ll give you my beloved blade forged from black iron. A clean one.]

“...Why is this sword in Anhui?”

[Heh heh heh.]

Damn it. I couldn’t help myself and asked. I’d wanted to play dumb as long as possible...

‘You bait me with black iron, you cheat?’

Too much money to refuse.

“...Hoo.”

A different sort of sigh slipped out. I set the case down for a moment and looked at the old man.

Fine. Since it’s come to this, I might as well ask everything.

“Old man.”

[Yes.]

“That antique you call your beloved blade.”

[Its name is Full Moon.]

For an antique, the name was stylish.

“Fine. Full Moon. Why was it stuck in Anhui?”

More precisely, in a corner of a cave no one would ever find. Why there?

He’d been waiting for me to ask this since earlier.

And—

‘Please, no.’

I prayed as I braced for his answer.

‘...Please, please, not that one.’

I begged with everything I had. Of the six answers I’d predicted, any one but that would do.

But—

[The thing is.]

As if he even knew my reaction, Yoo Cheongil answered in a breezy tone:

[I don’t know either.]

“Ah, fuck.”

I swore the instant I heard it. The old man burst out laughing.

[Ku-hahaha!]

He clutched his belly like it was the funniest thing in the world.

I ignored him and pressed my palm to my forehead.

‘I begged that hard and you don’t help me once? Are you insane?’

I said any one of the six—any but one—and he hit the one dead on like a ghost.

He doesn’t know why his beloved blade is in Anhui.

‘That was the one thing I didn’t want to hear.’

He’d told me he doesn’t know exactly how he died.

And it wasn’t a natural death like people say—it was at someone else’s hand.

His beloved blade being stashed in Anhui without his knowledge means—

‘...someone tied to the old man’s death did it.’

In plain terms: we’re screwed.