Chapter 16
An Unexpected Connection (1)
A messenger bird descended upon the Martial Alliance.
Its ankle carried a red tag, and even the paper inside was red. The warrior who discovered it turned pale with shock.
“H–Hah! A red urgent message?!”
For the red slip meant only one thing: an invasion against the Martial Alliance.
“Lord of the Hall—!”
The guard of the messenger hall poured his internal energy into his voice, shouting as he rushed outside.
Moments later—
The red-lettered missive that could shake the entire Alliance sped toward the Chief’s Hall at frightening speed.
And soon after—
“What did you say?!”
The Alliance Chief, Golden Sword Overlord Kwak Jin, widened his eyes. His grip tightened unconsciously, crushing the hilt of his tea cup into powder.
“The Black Lotus has made a move?!”
Such was the shocking news that had just arrived.
“Yes, Chief,” the Alliance’s General Administrator reported, rushing in with the sealed letter. “Their subordinate faction, the Jeho Clan, has broken the accord and entered Hubei Province, clashing with one of our affiliated sects—the High Sword Gate.”
They called it a “clash.”
But the meaning was obvious: a violent confrontation.
“The letter—!”
“Here it is, Chief.”
Kwak Jin scanned the missive. His lips trembled before a sigh escaped.
“Hah—!”
For a moment he was struck dumb, then his eyes hardened, turning sharp as blades.
His voice was cold and commanding.
“Summon the Grand Strategist and every leader of the Alliance command to the council chamber—at once.”
“At your command!”
The winds of war began to stir through the Martial Alliance.
A council was swiftly convened.
All of the Alliance’s leadership gathered, led by the Grand Strategist. The meeting began with the Chief’s briefing.
“…Such is the grave situation we face. And it may yet grow worse. I want to hear the thoughts of everyone here. Grand Strategist, let us begin with you.”
The Grand Strategist, Zegall Seonhu, accepted the letter and studied it in silence before speaking.
“First, we must determine whether this was an act carried out solely by the Jeho Clan—or whether the Black Lotus Lord, the Red Dragon King himself, sanctioned it as a vanguard operation. There was no declaration of war, and the move feels reckless, as if done without proper planning.”
In short, there was too little information.
He advised caution.
But—
“What use is that, Grand Strategist? The ones who crossed the line first were the Black Lotus!”
“At the very time when all eyes are turned upon us because of the Heroes’ Tournament, they dare reveal their fangs. Does this not show how little they respect us?!”
“This cannot stand. No—it must never be tolerated!”
“Agreed! Let us strike them now.”
“Yes! We must show them the justice of the martial world still lives.”
Was it blood boiling?
Or old grudges flaring up?
The leaders’ responses were heated.
‘Tsk, tsk… with the world’s eyes on us and so much power gathered here for the tournament, they want to unleash it in one blow, eh?’
Zegall Seonhu read their minds exactly, though he didn’t voice it.
‘But that’s no good. They want to crush the Black Lotus while they can, but it’ll only give the Demonic Sect—or the Blood Sect beyond the borders—an excuse to sink their teeth in.’
Frustrated, but accustomed to such debates, Seonhu calmly presented his reasoning.
“…That is why I urge caution. If we do not want to hand an advantage to the Demonic Sect or Blood Sect, we must first ascertain the situation clearly before we act.”
Some leaders smirked, deflecting.
“Ahem. Who’s saying otherwise, Grand Strategist?”
“Yes, yes, we know. We were only voicing an opinion. Ha ha.”
They were slippery snakes—testing the waters, then withdrawing once they sensed danger.
Seonhu pressed on to resolve the matter.
“First, we should request help from the Beggar’s Sect and the Hao Clan to investigate. At the same time, I suggest we dispatch a small vanguard of our own forces.”
“A prudent measure,” Kwak Jin rumbled. “We don’t know how far this conflict will spread. Send a vanguard, and prepare ourselves as well.”
“Just so, Chief. Then the question remains—who shall form the vanguard?”
No sooner had Seonhu asked than—
“The Azure Dragon Division will take it!”
“What?! Send the White Tiger Division instead, Grand Strategist.”
“Why always Azure Dragon or White Tiger whenever trouble arises?!”
“Exactly! This time the Black Tortoise Division shall move. Leave it to us!”
“Hah! Then let the Vermilion Bird Division step forward this time!”
The leaders of the four great divisions—Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise—all spoke at once.
Seonhu sighed inwardly.
‘Again, the same squabble for dominance…’
The divisions each had their bases: Azure Dragon with the Seven Great Outlaw Gangs, White Tiger with the Five Aristocratic Families, Black Tortoise with the mid-tier sects, and Vermilion Bird with unaffiliated sects and wandering masters. Of them, Vermilion Bird was always the most sensitive in times like these, for they were desperate for recognition.
‘No choice. They must all be excluded.’
If one of the great four divisions were sent, the Black Lotus might view it as a declaration of all-out war. Until matters grew clearer, they needed only to appear prepared.
And so, Seonhu thought of the perfect choice.
‘The Wind and Cloud Division—!’
It was the training ground every warrior had to pass through before joining the great divisions, where three years of service were required. Even the ten heroes chosen in the tournament were first stationed there before being assigned elsewhere.
‘That will do nicely.’
He immediately gave his recommendation to the Chief.
“Good,” Kwak Jin said, curling his lips into a satisfied smile. He nodded firmly.
The leaders of the four great divisions voiced no complaint. The Chief’s decision was final, and they knew it.
The Chief added:
“Still, to ascertain the situation properly, let one strategist from the War Office accompany them.”
“As expected of the Chief.”
“You were planning it anyway, were you not? Hah! Very well. But send someone with sharp eyes.”
“Rest assured, Chief.”
Seonhu’s answer was firm. In his mind, one face appeared.
His deputy strategist—Zegall Heryeong.
‘This task falls to you, Heryeong.’
He himself had to remain at headquarters, so he would send the one he trusted most.
Three days later, southernmost Hubei, at Hongho County.
Kang Yongun disembarked at the pier, a change from his original plan.
‘No need to rush ahead. It’s not as if I have a perfect strategy yet. Better to steady myself.’
He meant to use this time to put into practice the advice he had received over the past three days from the presences of the Heavenly Vault.
[You’ve taken one step with sword energy manifestation—now take another, child. Heh heh.]
[Tell me, child: what do you think makes a true master?]
[Suppose you can unleash sword force, but only for one strike before your energy is spent. What then?]
[Yet if another, though only at sword intent level, can fight at full strength for half an hour without exhausting his energy—who will win?]
Yongun pictured himself in such a battle.
‘If an opponent releases sword force, why must I meet it head-on?’
Clashing directly would mean destruction. Unless—
‘If I must protect someone, I may have no choice.’
But otherwise, there was no need.
‘The answer’s clear: avoid clashing, defend and evade, let the enemy exhaust themselves.’
One devastating strike of sword force would fade with time. Survive it, and victory would be his.
[Indeed, but what if that sword force is not just one or two strikes, but continues endlessly—for half an hour?]
[Not from inner energy alone, but by drawing upon the power of nature itself?]
[That is what makes a true master: one who can wield not only the qi of his dantian, but the boundless force of heaven and earth as well.]
[This is Dynamic Cultivation (Donggong).]
[It means cultivating while in motion: not only when sitting in meditation, but even while walking, eating, meeting people, drinking tea.]
[The secret lies in matching your cultivation mantra to daily life—making every breath itself a cycle of qi.]
[Do this, child. You can. Heaven and earth will become one with you.]
It was astounding advice.
‘Even if less efficient than seated meditation, if I can cultivate throughout all twelve hours of the day?!’
How could he not try? That was why he had disembarked at Hongho. The swaying of the boat made practice harder, so he would train while walking instead.
‘Match the mantra to life, make breathing itself the dantian’s work…’
He tried to shift his breathing to abdominal style while walking.
It was not easy. His normal breathing was shallow and chest-driven.
‘No reason it should work perfectly at first.’
But Yongun did not despair. Persistence was his gift. He continued tirelessly, step after step, day after day.
One day. Two. Three…
Southern Hubei, the vast Zhanghan Plain.
Here the mighty Yangtze River paused, swelling into Lake Hongho.
Though Dongting Lake is famed, how can it compare to the beauty of Hongho?
So went the old verse, and indeed the lake glowed golden in the light of the setting sun.
A peaceful sight.
But that tranquility was suddenly torn apart.
With a deafening roar, a figure split the sunset skies.
A man clad in blazing red.
Around him coiled a radiant golden dragon woven from killing intent.
The Red Dragon King, Yeom Hwi.
“Rat bastard…”
His voice trembled with murderous rage.
“You dared abduct my grandson?!”
The killing aura that poured from him was monstrous, the kind that could not be quenched even if he slaughtered ten thousand foes.
“Hiding is useless. Your vaunted arrays? Your illusions? I’ll smash them all!”
His eyes locked on a mountain ridge beside the lake. From within one peak surged a power he could not ignore.
A formation laced with illusion.
The very one that had mocked him and stalled him all this time. His grandson was inside.
“You die here—!”
With that roar, his body shot forward like lightning, a thunderbolt aimed straight at the formation.
