Chapter 139

If you want information, go to the Beggar Clan.

That’s an old saying everyone in the Central Plains knows.

Beggars are everywhere. And because they’re everywhere, they can hear a lot.

Most of those beggars belong to the ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) Beggar Clan. And all the information that gathers like that stacks up, bit by bit, inside the Beggar Clan.

So it wasn’t an exaggeration to say that if there was something you wanted to know, you could go to the Beggar Clan and ask.

The only problem was that you didn’t get information—

you bought it.

For people who live day to day by holding out a bowl, the Beggar Clan’s prices are especially steep.

Unless it was something you truly needed to hear, people didn’t use the Beggar Clan all that often.

So then, if not the Beggar Clan, where was the second-biggest place information flowed?

Ask that, and nine out of ten people would answer the same thing, like they’d rehearsed it.

A tavern.

“Brother Jang, did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“The Little Sword Saint. The Little Sword Saint.”

It’s only natural for loose tongues to get looser once the liquor goes down.

It’s also only natural for words to go from one mouth to another.

A tavern was where those two things met, so it was only natural that information flowed thick and fast here.

And right now, there was one topic burning hotter than anything else inside the tavern.

“Little Sword Saint? Who’s that?”

It was the Little Sword Saint.

At the words from the man—Mr. Jang—the face of the one who’d been talking went pale with shock.

“No, Brother Jang. Even if you’re slow on the news, this is too much. You run a merchant outfit—how do you not know about the Little Sword Saint? This is why you got skinned like a sucker last time.”

“...Save the painful truth for later. Explain it properly.”

“You know. The Sword Saint’s successor. It was noisy for a while.”

“Ah.”

Mr. Jang nodded at the reminder. That was true.

It had been quite a while since the former Alliance Leader, the Sword Saint, passed away.

And in the middle of all that, there’d been a brief uproar when word spread that the Sword Saint’s successor had suddenly appeared.

“What was it again? They said he beat the Little Azure Sword?”

“The Little Azure Sword, my ass. They say he even killed the Mountain-Spirit Fiend.”

The Sword Saint’s successor had been living as a nobody inside the Martial Alliance while hiding who he was.

Then he discovered a demonic-path master who’d formed a grudge with the Namgung Clan—the Mountain-Spirit Fiend.

With no choice, he revealed the identity he’d been keeping buried and saved his comrades from a demonic-path villain.

And after that, they said that even in a match against the Little Azure Sword, he defeated him with a single sword—

“The Little Azure Sword is supposed to be a genius who’s nearly on the level of the Seven Prodigies. If he beat him... I thought that was incredible. But what does that have to do with the Little Sword Saint— huh?”

Mid-sentence, Mr. Jang let out a dumb breath, like something clicked.

“The Little Sword Saint is the Sword Saint’s successor?”

“...Brother Jang, you always catch on late. That’s why your business always—”

“Hey. Cut the useless talk.”

“That’s right. The Little Sword Saint is him.”

“...Hah.”

Mr. Jang laughed under his breath.

“I heard he hasn’t even turned twenty yet. And he already has an epithet.”

It hadn’t even been a year since he’d shown himself.

And they said he was a young man who hadn’t even turned twenty.

But—

“Little Sword Saint....”

It felt like a name that was too heavy for someone that young.

Even if he was the Sword Saint’s successor—wasn’t it too much?

While Mr. Jang was thinking that—

“It’s not ‘already.’ It’s a name that was bound to rise.”

“Hm?”

“Do you know what the Little Sword Saint did?”

“...No?”

He’d only just heard the epithet. How would he know?

“You’re saying you haven’t heard what happened in Sichuan?”

“Sichuan... did something happen at the Tang Clan again? What, did another special-grade weapon come out of Iron River?”

Whenever word got out that a special-grade weapon appeared at Iron River, the world would stir. Mr. Jang figured it was something like that—

But the man shook his head.

“No. Not that. This time, the Tang Clan got attacked.”

“What?”

What kind of lunatic attacks one of the Five Great Clans?

Mr. Jang jolted.

“Because of that, they say even the Poison King was in danger.”

“...Huh. That Poison King?”

The Tang Clan being attacked was already insane—

but the Poison King being in danger too?

It was hard to believe.

If one of the Five Kings Under Heaven was in danger, what kind of attack was it?

As Mr. Jang swallowed, stunned—

“But do you know who stopped it?”

The man leaned in with an excited face.

“The Little Sword Saint.”

“What?”

“They say the Little Sword Saint crushed every last attacker and saved the Poison King.”

“Hah! What kind of nonsense is that?”

Mr. Jang frowned like it was impossible. The other man clicked his tongue.

“I’m telling you it’s true. That’s why the Tang Clan treats the Little Sword Saint like their benefactor, and they even handed over several swords.”

“What kind of—”

“And even the Poison Dragon—one of the Seven Prodigies, a Tang Clan kid—treats him like a benefactor and follows him around. They say he’s so devoted, anyone would think he was a servant—”

CLANG—!!

A loud crash sounded from behind.

“What was that?”

Every head in the tavern snapped that way.

Someone had shattered a cup on a tabletop.

It didn’t look like it had been dropped. From the way it broke—and the wetness on the hand—it looked like someone crushed it while holding it.

And as everyone looked—

there was a young man trembling, his whole body shaking.

“Ghk...!”

“Th-that... that....”

A few people recognized him and recoiled hard. Even the man who’d been talking just now did.

“...Brother Baek. What’s wrong?”

Mr. Jang didn’t understand and asked the man beside him.

“...Poison....”

Baek stuttered, staring like he’d seen a nightmare.

“Poison Dragon... it’s Poison Dragon.”

“Huh?”

Mr. Jang looked over too.

The young man wore clothes of green silk threaded with white patterns, with sharp, vicious features.

And the crest stamped on his chest—

Seeing it, Mr. Jang froze.

“...Wait.”

No one in the Central Plains could fail to recognize that.

It was the Tang Clan’s symbol—the very one they’d been talking about.

“That’s Poison Dragon.”

“Poison Dragon...?”

“One of the Seven Prodigies is here...?”

The Seven Prodigies—the title given to the seven unparalleled geniuses under heaven.

They called them monsters who might one day carry on the peace the current Sword Saint had built.

And among them, the one produced by the Tang Clan—famous for poison arts—

was Poison Dragon.

His appearance slammed the entire tavern into silence.

But the real problem was—

“If Poison Dragon is here...”

“Don’t tell me.”

This tension wasn’t just because Poison Dragon had shown up.

It was because if Poison Dragon was here, there might be someone nearby—someone everyone wanted to see.

That was what the rumors said.

A young man who’d done the Tang Clan such a favor that they treated him as a benefactor.

Poison Dragon respected him so much that he followed him across long distances—standing at his side like a servant.

So if Poison Dragon was here—

“Is the Little Sword Saint too?”

“Which one is he...? Who’s the Little Sword Saint?”

“You’re saying he came back to Henan?”

The most famous younger-generation prodigy in the Central Plains.

The fact that Little Sword Saint Bang Sungyeon might be here.

That was why every gaze in the room turned toward the table where Poison Dragon sat.

Then—

“Over here!”

Someone sitting at that table raised a hand in a hurry.

“Check, please! Hurry!”

It was a very handsome young man with a thoroughly urgent expression.

*****

A bright day, the sun high in the sky.

A county seat in Henan.

I walked the street with a deeply irritated face.

“Bastard.”

I spit it out and looked to the side.

The vicious-looking bastard, Tang Cheonil, flinched and avoided my eyes.

“You couldn’t hold it in and you had to shatter a cup? We didn’t even finish eating.”

“...I’m sorry....”

“That’s why I told you to wear something else.”

“.......”

Tang Cheonil bowed his head with his face twisted up.

“Look at you. Fix your expression.”

“.......”

“Because of you, we had to leave without even finishing our food. I’m gonna gouge your eyes o—”

Haa.

I cut myself off with a sigh.

‘Damn it....’

It just came out on its own.

Tang Cheonil was Tang Cheonil, but the situation was what really did it.

‘How the hell did it end up like this?’

Everything had gotten strange.

The moment I arrived in this Henan county seat, changes started pouring down on me so fast my head felt foggy.

“Heh.”

A laugh came from the side.

I turned my head, and Murong Yeongsun—wearing her veil—was quietly laughing.

“...Is it funny?”

“Yes. Isn’t it funny to you, Young Master?”

Murong Yeongsun spoke while walking with her usual light steps.

“The whole world is full of talk about you. Doesn’t it feel good?”

“Do I look like I feel good right now?”

“No.”

As she said it, Murong Yeongsun poked my brow with a finger.

“Stop wrinkling your handsome forehead. It won’t change anything.”

“.......”

I swatted her hand away with the back of mine.

“...Tsk.”

I clicked my tongue.

Half of what she said was true.

This wouldn’t change anything.

‘I thought it’d be a rumor that just passed by.’

Little Sword Saint, whatever.

I thought it would stay a rumor that was only famous in Sichuan.

‘I didn’t think it spread like this.’

But the moment I got to Henan, I realized I was wrong.

Like Murong Yeongsun said, the whole world was talking about me.

Even the tavern we stopped at to fill our stomachs.

‘Hearing my name come up—my god.’

I was just sitting there eating noodles, and they were talking about me right in front of me.

But—

“Me? Saving the Poison King and becoming the Tang Clan’s benefactor?”

The rumor itself had spread in a weird way.

‘Saved my ass.’

When did I ever save the Poison King and the Tang Clan?

Sure, I did something kind of like that—

but it had gotten exaggerated and ballooned out of control.

‘This is why rumors—’

It was the same in my previous life.

Rumors weren’t worth trusting.

Looks like this life was no different.

“This is all because of you.”

I snapped at Tang Cheonil.

Tang Cheonil made a confused face.

“Why is it because of me—?”

“Because you’re stuck to me, that’s why everyone notices! Either cover your clothes or cover your face—pick one!”

“.......”

Everyone knew Poison Dragon’s look.

And on the road, there were times people recognized Tang Cheonil.

On top of that, he was wearing the Tang Clan’s martial uniform. How could anyone miss it?

It was common sense that you couldn’t wear a crested uniform like that unless you were direct blood.

“I’m losing my mind.”

How did it spread like this?

I frowned, running it over in my head—

[ Stop grinding your teeth and enjoy it. It was always going to happen sooner or later. ]

Yoo Cheongil spoke in an exasperated voice.

[ From the moment my successor’s name spread, it was already something you expected. ]

Yeah. I knew.

I became the Sword Saint’s successor.

From the moment I revealed myself inside the Martial Alliance, I’d expected that someday, my name would spread through the Central Plains like this.

‘That’s true, but that isn’t why I’m like this.’

The problem isn’t that.

‘It’s weird.’

The way it spread was weird. That’s what bothers me.

‘It was quiet, and then suddenly—?’

If it spread everywhere as “the Sword Saint’s successor,” that would’ve been fine.

But—

‘Back then it was quiet.’

Back then, it was like someone was blocking it. The rumor didn’t spread well.

‘And now it’s the opposite.’

Now it was spreading fast—like someone was deliberately pushing it.

Both of them felt artificial.

So of course I was suspicious.

‘Who moved?’

Someone moved to block my rumors, and now someone moved to spread them.

And if I’m right—

‘The one who blocked it and the one who spread it aren’t the same.’

Different people.

Different intentions.

‘Tsk.’

It felt like I’d gotten tangled up in something unpleasant.

And the rumor going around right now was—

—The Little Sword Saint killed demonic-path masters and saved the Tang Clan.

—The Little Sword Saint became the Tang Clan’s benefactor, and Poison Dragon respects him and follows him.

—Poison Dragon follows him because the Little Sword Saint overwhelmingly defeated him in a match.

—The Little Sword Saint is a heaven-sent martial genius who looks down even on the Seven Prodigies.

And more, and more.

It didn’t even feel like three-tenths of it was true, and yet it kept getting padded—layer after layer.

‘...It’s professional.’

If you want a lie to harden, you mix truth into it.

You mix truth and lies, swell it up, then send it out into the world as rumor.

This stank of a professional.

‘Tsk.’

So who was it?

The problem wasn’t that I had no suspects.

‘It’s that I have too many.’

Too many candidates.

Even if I narrowed it down, it would be hard to point to one clearly.

“...Tsk.”

So I clicked my tongue and changed the direction of my thoughts.

This sudden fame didn’t feel good.

But—

‘Still... it’s not only bad.’

It wasn’t pure negatives.

‘It’s useful right now.’

Even if it was built on lies, it was still reputation.

And it absolutely helped me get what I needed.

‘Think of it positively.’

There were more things I could do now.

I tried to think like that.

I glanced around.

I could feel eyes on me.

Some of it was because of Tang Cheonil, but some of it was because of what we were wearing.

Cheon Eujin wore the Blue Moon Sect’s uniform.

Do Hyeong and I wore the Small Moon Unit’s uniform.

So the stares poured in.

And since this was a county seat under the Blue Moon Sect’s control, it was even worse.

‘We’re here, at least.’

A long journey ended.

Henan.

Back where the Blue Moon Sect was.

‘Hoo.’

I exhaled, then looked ahead.

On a hill, I could see a massive, towering structure.

The Blue Moon Sect.

I’d returned to the place where I had a lot of work to do.

I could feel how much had changed since I left.

My realm.

My position.

And if that was the case, then maybe the sect had changed how it treated me, too.

With that in mind, I stepped forward—

...and that “change” showed itself faster than I expected.

*****

“...You want me to go out there?”

I asked with a blank, stunned face, and Moon-Thread Sword repeated it.

“As the Blue Moon Sect’s representative, go to the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering.”

“...What kind of insane bullshit is that?”

The moment I came back, disaster dropped on my head.