Chapter 63
Now that Sheolrin had been saved, there was no reason to get further involved in the beggars’ quarrel.
She had never been the sort to sacrifice herself for righteousness or loyalty, back then or now; joining in the Kaebang household’s infighting would only be a waste of time.
“Hey, beggar.”
At Yeil’s call, the brazen old man turned his flushed face.
“I’ll ask you just one thing. You’ve lived long enough—shouldn’t you be getting ready to die quietly…? Why, after all this time, do you suddenly follow Cheonmuju?”
“……”
“Cheonmuju” was the slang used in the killing clan to refer to the “greatest evil,” Cheonmuryŏng.
The old man’s expression shifted subtly as if he’d recognized the slang immediately.
“……Woman. Where on earth did you fall from? How do you even know that name?”
“If you answer my question honestly, I’ll call off my vengeance and won’t interfere any further. I’ve already achieved my goal anyway.”
“Little hero!”
Gaechŏl urgently called to Yeil.
“That scoundrel killed our Kaebang sub-leader and ran off! How can you pretend you don’t know?”
Yeil showed no particular reaction and waited for the brazen man’s answer. When the old man kept silent, Jin Cheongak, who was beginning to feel bored, prodded Yeil.
“Don’t stall, old bastard. Even if our lady is despicably mean, she keeps her word.”
“……Ha ha!”
The old man suddenly burst into laughter. After a long, crazy guffaw, his tone grew ominous.
“Now I understand.”
His eyes swung toward Yeil’s sword.
“Chuhyeol Geomgwi… So you were the one who killed that foul creature. Yes. I thought I’d seen that sword somewhere. It belonged to that old wrinklepuss…”
Yeil answered his implication with silence. Gaechŏl looked at her in disbelief.
“Chuhyeol Geomgwi… You mean that dreadful enemy? How could a young woman have defeated that old monster…?”
“Young? Fool—she only looks young! Damnation. I’ve been so unlucky. Just when I thought my world was finally coming to me, I got tangled up with this thing!”
Muttering to himself and scoffing, the brazen man suddenly threw down his hostage.
“S-sir! Please spare me!”
The cook and the shop boy scrambled behind Yeil. The brazen man dragged his sword across his fingertips and spat.
“Ptooey! …You ask why I follow Cheonmuju now? Ha! What nonsense! We have never once followed Cheonmuju…”
Yeil’s face crumpled in visible disgust.
‘We never followed Cheonmuryŏng?’
Those words meant—
“Does that mean you’re unrelated to Yeonghwangyuse and the like?”
The old man grabbed a bottle of liquor rolling on the floor and poured it into his mouth.
“We can’t be unrelated. We can’t… But since ‘that person’ follows the Greatest Evil, we simply further ‘that person’s’ will!”
“‘That person,’” someone repeated—introducing a new figure.
If a fighter of the caliber of Palgwi (the Eight Ghosts) followed him, then he must be someone already known in the world.
“Who is this person you speak of?”
The old man, pouring more liquor into his mouth, shrugged his shoulders in excitement.
“I’ll bet… if we revealed that person’s name—woman, I don’t know about you, but those beggar bastards would run for the hills! Small-minded, petty little things that they are!”
“Shut your mouth!”
Gaechŏl’s outraged retort was barely glanced at by Jin Cheongak, who tapped his chin with a face full of interest.
“This is getting genuinely curious. A fugitive of the Kaebang clan not only trusts but reveres someone. So who is this great person?”
The brazen man smirked, gulped repeatedly, then threw down the bottle.
“Puhaha!”
Then, after a long pause, he spat out a name.
“Wolgeom Ilsal.”
A heavy rain began to fall.
As if on cue, a heavy silence settled into the ruined inn. The drenched old man wiped his front and his neck with a satisfied look, drew his sword, and said,
“Well then—like we agreed… If your business is done, get out of here!”
Just as the rush of the enemy’s new formation skimmed past them—
Yeil moved in an instant, grabbed the old man by the collar, and yanked him roughly.
“Guh.”
“Who did you say that person was?”
The old man’s eyes were half-muddled as if drunk, his gaze blurred when he answered.
“…Wolgeom.”
Wolgeom Ilsal.
No one else.
It was Yeil herself.
“Wolgeom Ilsal.”
Yeil set her teacup down and looked up.
It was the night a winter blizzard howled outside.
The wind was so fierce that the residence of the Mount Hwa Sect’s elder—normally otherwise empty save for three people—was rattling with drafts.
“Excuse me?”
Seon-hye, one of the Hwa Sect’s three senior disciples who sat beside Yeil, asked with puzzlement.
On this night just before the New Year, Hwa Sect’s elder, Baek Chung, who had called Yeil and Seon-hye in secret, finally spoke.
“Wolgeom Ilsal. Jeokryong Heukdo. Cheonmyeon Magwi.”
Just hearing those names sounded unpleasant. Seon-hye’s expression hardened.
“Aren’t those all criminal names in the martial world? And they belong to the killing clan…”
“You’re right, Seon-hye. These are evils whose names are known everywhere. They are elusive to such an extent that even the top righteous sects’ masters fail to catch them. They are the chief culprits who spread the killing clan’s infamy throughout the world.”
Perhaps because such figures were being mentioned by the Hwa Sect elder himself, tension filled the room. Seon-hye glanced at Yeil with a worried face and asked him quietly.
“Does this have something to do with why you called me and Yeil here?”
“They are coming for our Hwa Sect.”
Seon-hye’s eyes widened in shock.
“What? That…!”
“You’ll come to know soon enough. For years now a bloody wind has been blowing. The Nine Ancient Houses and the Five Great Families have been shaken.”
“…….”
“The Jegal family, the Jongnam faction, the Kunlun sect—those three are only the known ones. If you include the cases hushed up internally, it’s safe to say four or five have been hit.”
“Hit.”
Seon-hye didn’t ask for clarification on the term. Many sects and clans, including those named by the elder, had suffered the same common harms from the killing clan.
Potions and treasures, their manuals of martial arts—these weren’t trivial items. They were heirlooms passed down through generations, treasures that carried a sect’s history.
They used infiltration, surprise attacks, theft, and blackmail. Their methods varied so widely that responding was difficult. With traitors running rampant, rot spread from within; people called the current martial world a time of chaos.
“This time, it will be our Hwa Sect’s turn.”
“Master, have you found any proof?”
“…So I have a request for both of you.”
The elder stooped, fetched a jar that looked very old from beneath the bed, and placed it on the table with a strange aura about it.
“This contains the secret manual of the Hwa Sect’s ancient inner-body technique.”
“A secret manual?”
“Ja-ha Shin-gong.”
“Ja-ha Shin-gong! My goodness—this is the thing we’ve only heard about…!”
Startled, Seon-hye nearly fell out of her chair.
“Why are you showing such a precious thing to us?”
“I plan to hide it in a deep place within the Hwa Mountain, just in case. I’d like one of you to take that responsibility.”
Seon-hye looked helplessly between Yeil and the elder.
“How could I possibly take on such a grave responsibility…?”
“There is one unwritten rule you must follow without fail.”
“What is it?”
“Whoever you encounter while transporting this manual—without exception—must be killed.”
“……What?”
Seon-hye’s face drained with shock. It took her a long moment to process whether what she’d heard was real.
