Chapter 170

Jeok Homyeong.

A one-eyed man with an eyepatch over his left eye—an enormous frame nearly eight feet tall, thick through the torso.

A figure with lush white hair and eyes so low-set they felt chilling.

A hero who, together with Sword Saint Yoo Cheongil, built staggering merit during the Orthodox-Demonic War.

And the current Alliance Leader of the Martial Alliance.

His defining trait was that, true to his alias, he used a spear longer than his own body.

And he was known to fight in a tyrannical, overbearing way, using terrifying grip strength.

“And on top of that.”

Overwhelming martial power.

Along with the support that came from being called a hero.

“After Yoo Cheongil passed.”

He was also known as the person closest to being the strongest under heaven.

If you called those who were active during the Orthodox-Demonic War the Heaven-Beyond-Heaven—

then among them, he was almost the only one still active on the front lines.

Of course, the current Wudang Sect Leader and the current Mount Hua Sect Leader hadn’t retired either, but—

“...Even so, it’s hard to call them ‘active duty.’”

As far as actually showing up in front of people and moving around?

Only the Divine Spear did that.

That was why people said he was the closest to being the strongest under heaven.

“Normally, the Sword Emperor would’ve come up too, but...”

The Sword Emperor had vanished right after the war and it’d been a long time.

I knew he was living as “Chudong,” but only a tiny handful of people knew that, so it didn’t matter.

The man closest to being the strongest under heaven.

The Heaven-Beyond-Heaven of the Central Plains.

Divine Spear Jeok Homyeong.

Just looking at him made cold sweat spill down my back.

“That’s not a maybe.”

His one and only eye was on me.

There was no way to mistake it.

And calling it a mistake—

BZZZT.

“...Goddamn it.”

—was impossible, because every drop of the savage killing intent pouring off him was focused on me.

My body locked up. To be honest, it wasn’t even something you could call “energy.” We were just making eye contact, but my body was already scared stiff.

Yeah. Not my mind—my body.

Like I’d run into a predator I could never beat, purely on instinct.

“...Or is it both? Feels like my head’s scared too.”

It wasn’t enough that he was a monster people put in the top three strongest in the Central Plains.

“That goddamn old bastard.”

I’d also heard about the trouble Yoo Cheongil caused, so it was worse.

What did he say again?

“Yoo Cheongil was the one who tore that eye out.”

Why the Divine Spear wore an eyepatch.

People said it was aftereffects from the war, or a glorious wound from fighting some Unorthodox archfiend in the past.

But I knew the truth.

A woman who’d been the Divine Spear’s fiancée fell for Yoo Cheongil, they got into a brawl—

and Yoo Cheongil tore the Divine Spear’s eye out.

“...Fuck.”

What kind of ridiculous story was that?

“He’s definitely still pissed.”

How could he forget? It wasn’t enough to lose his fiancée—his eye got gouged out too.

If it were me, I’d never forget it until I died.

“That’s why he called me.”

The Blue Moon Sect can’t attend festivals hosted by the Martial Alliance.

Because it’s a direct subordinate sect and has a tight relationship with the Martial Alliance, that’s how it ended up.

The Beggar Clan and Shaolin are the same for the same reasons.

The Beggar Clan is a place that shares certain information through an agreement with the Martial Alliance.

And Shaolin has its main temple in Henan, so from the start, it’s in a state where attending the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering isn’t possible.

“And he broke the rules anyway, just to call me.”

As the Alliance Leader of the Martial Alliance, the Divine Spear overturned those rules and made the Blue Moon Sect attend the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering.

And he even went as far as—

“Because I’m here.”

—issuing an order that wasn’t quite an order: that I, the Sword Saint’s successor, had to participate.

“...This is fucking terrifying.”

I didn’t even want to imagine what he was thinking when he called me.

“At this rate, am I gonna eat a spear?”

Now that Yoo Cheongil was dead, the target for venting could be me—the one people called his disciple.

No, from the start, the decision [N O V E L I G H T] to let the Blue Moon Sect attend made no sense.

“The people up top let that slide?”

No matter how high the Divine Spear’s approval was, it wasn’t like there were only one or two Martial Alliance executives, and there was no way they’d lightly let “special treatment” for the Blue Moon Sect pass.

“If they let this go—”

It meant the Divine Spear offered something big enough that they had to.

Or else—

“He sacrificed something.”

He must’ve sacrificed something to force it through.

“Damn it.”

Did he really want something from me that badly?

As my anxiety started climbing to its limit—

“The Divine Spear came in person...!”

“What in the—?”

The junior generation just stared wide-eyed at the Divine Spear’s appearance that wasn’t even on the schedule.

It looked like none of them even understood what was happening.

Normally, he was the kind of man who wouldn’t show his face until near the end of the banquet, so him appearing now was strange, but—

“Don’t tell me this too...”

Is it because of me?

I wanted to believe it wasn’t, but—

“He’s staring at me too hard.”

The Divine Spear’s rough gaze was aimed only at me.

The problem was—

“The person the Divine Spear is looking at is...”

“Isn’t that the direction where the Seven Prodigies are gathered?”

“The Seven Prodigies? Huh? But...”

Because the Divine Spear’s gaze was so blatantly pointed, the discomfort wasn’t mine alone.

“Little Sword Saint...? The Divine Spear is looking at the Little Sword Saint.”

“What? That person is the Little Sword Saint...?”

“He looks younger than I expected.”

“That young man is really the Sword Saint’s...”

Naturally, the room’s gaze piled onto me.

And then—

“But why is the Divine Spear staring at that young man?”

People started to wonder why the Divine Spear was drilling holes through me with his eyes.

That was when—

“...Wait.”

Someone spoke like they’d realized something.

“Didn’t the Divine Spear grasp some outstanding something about the Little Sword Saint?”

“...Huh? Among the Seven Prodigies?”

“If not... there’s no way. I’ve never seen the Alliance Leader come out like that.”

“As expected... they said he’s a genius sent down by the heavens...”

No.

That’s not it.

Hearing those murmurs, I had to knit my brow.

“You lunatics. Please stop.”

The misunderstanding was swelling—straight in a really bad direction.

I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut on the spot, and I was forcing myself not to when—

SWISH.

Only then did the Divine Spear finally turn his gaze away from me and walk toward the platform.

[That bastard. Still scary as ever, just looking at him.]

Yoo Cheongil said that while picking his nose as he watched the Divine Spear.

I wasn’t sure who was calling who scary, but looking at the Divine Spear’s face, I could see why he’d say it.

He really did look terrifying.

THUD.

The Divine Spear climbed onto the platform with his massive body and swept the junior generation with a heavy stare.

Every time his gaze passed over someone, you could feel them flinch.

“Ah.”

FWOOOOOOOM—!!

The moment the Divine Spear let out a single syllable, the air rang heavy.

The fine hairs on my skin stood straight up.

“What the—”

Why did his voice carry inner power like this?

I stared at him with suspicious eyes, and—

“Stay strong.”

“...Huh?”

The Divine Spear spat out just those four words, stepped down, and went back the way he came—vanishing.

“...What?”

I frowned at the sight.

Did he seriously just leave?

“After saying that one line?”

What is this? I couldn’t even react, I was so dumbfounded—

[HAHAHAHAHAHAHA—!!!!]

The instant he saw it, Yoo Cheongil burst into explosive laughter.

[That— that crazy bastard!! HAHAHAHAHA—!!! Still the same!!! HAHAHAHA—!!!]

“...”

My head throbbed. He was laughing so loudly it made my skull ache.

“Still....”

The Divine Spear really didn’t show up again after that.

And after, the Martial Alliance guide who’d been left behind just stood there, blank and panicked, before hurriedly climbing onto the platform.

“Ahem. Th- the Alliance Leader seems to have come to thank you for your attendance and offer congratulations, so... please enjoy the banquet comfortably and at ease.”

Where was the “thanks” and where were the “congratulations”...?

No matter how hard I looked, it hadn’t been there.

But the meeting with the Divine Spear really ended like that.

And in the awkward atmosphere that formed—

the first day of the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, and the banquet, began.

*****

A banquet isn’t anything special.

Like always, it’s just eating food, drinking tea, chatting, and building connections.

The Dragon-Phoenix Gathering is the most valuable of those connection-building banquets.

Obviously.

Because the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering is made up of people the Martial Alliance carefully selects, sending recommendations to prestigious families and famous lineages to bring them here.

Which means it’s a gathering of the successors who will lead the future of the Central Plains’ Orthodox faction.

It’s not just some casual networking between clans.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Jin Yuyong of the Henan Jin Clan.”

“...Ah. Yes.”

“This is... it’s an honor beyond words to meet the Sword Saint’s famous successor.”

“It’s nothing.”

Thanks to that, I was running a schedule so busy it was insane.

Goddamn it—once the banquet started, the one who drew the most attention was me.

The Little Sword Saint’s successor, with rumors spread across the land.

And with the nonsense foam still thick—people even dragging the Seven Prodigies into it—of course the junior generation would be drooling.

Someone they had to get familiar with, no matter what.

That was who I was to them.

“Ah, I’m—”

And watching them—

“Ah, you’re Young Lord Jeong Seokyul of the Hubei Jeong Clan. It’s an honor to meet you.”

“...Huh?”

“Your Clan Head is doing well, I assume?”

“Uh... you know our Clan Head?”

“Of course. How could I not know the great hero known as the Overlord-Fording Martial-Nurturing Sword? I’ve never met him in person, but I’ve heard the stories plenty.”

“Ah... ah, yes.”

“Ah, and you, Young Lord, are from the Shaanxi Yoo Clan...”

As they came up one after another, I pretended to know them—one, two, three.

And because I did, everyone reacted like they’d just been hit in the head.

Of course they would. They’d be thinking, how the hell does some guy who’s never met us know this much about us?

“Like hell I know.”

I don’t know.

I’m just pretending as hard as I can.

[...]

Yoo Cheongil looked at me like he was disgusted and muttered.

Naturally, I ignored him.

“This is called having a social life.”

Before coming, I gathered background information on the people I expected to attend.

Not just the Seven Prodigies—everyone I could.

I’d only have a few days at best to move around with them, but that was more than enough time to memorize.

Of course, there were plenty whose faces and builds were vague, so I didn’t hit every single one perfectly, but—

“Even so, pretending to know people is what matters.”

What matters is how I end up looking in their eyes, and using that is important too.

Do what you can do.

I was confident in this kind of thing.

“I’ve been through the grinder in my past life.”

You think I can’t handle socializing with junior generation kids?

As long as the information’s solid, it’s like spitting while lying down.

If anything, it was the Seven Prodigies around me, or my own side, who kept looking at me weird.

“How does that guy know stuff like that?”

That was the clear look on their faces.

Or else—

“Why is he even doing that?”

—those kinds of eyes.

“You don’t need it.”

With the label “Seven Prodigies,” people would come crawling up on their own.

Why would they bother with this?

“But I have to.”

Unlike them, I needed it.

If I wanted to keep up the outside with fake talent—

I had to pack the bottom tight with things like this.

“Neatly tied long hair. Drooping eye corners. Slightly dark skin. Green martial uniform. Jewelry at the neck.”

I kept talking with the junior generation like that, and then—

“Ah. Young lady, you’re from Henan’s Medical Canon Lineage—”

“Pathetic.”

A sharp voice cut in.

I dropped my smile and turned around.

A handsome bastard was standing there with Wudang’s symbol on his chest.

Wudang Cloud Dragon Seo Pyeong.

He stared at me with a deeply displeased look and spoke.

“To do something so shameless. The Sword Saint’s name will weep.”

He snarled it out.

And hearing that, I thought—

“What did you just say?”

“What’s with this fucking idiot? Ah.”

Shit.

“What?”

“...I misspoke.”

I messed up.