Chapter 200

Chapter 200: The Bandit and the Prostitute (3)

The opposite edge of the Training Ground.

The moment their martial practice concluded, Jeon Rahwa brought the youths together to begin a literacy class.

Obliging her request, the youngsters clustered into a tight circle.

A few slouched their shoulders while others stifled yawns, yet each eventually retrieved a text and focused intently on her instruction.

“Alright, let us go over our previous study. Heaven is dark, and Earth is amber.”

“Oh, auntie. Must we really review from the very beginning?”

“Within this space, you do not call me auntie. You call me Master.”

“Understood, Auntie-Teacher.”

“……Keep this up, Jiho, and you will certainly face a reprimand.”

“Understood, Teach-auntie.”

“Get over here! I am going to freeze you solid and deliver a proper thrashing this instant!”

“W-w-wait! Master! Master!”

Dong Bongsu observed the display without uttering a word.

Amusingly, even while instructing children in literacy, a faint trace of Cold Qi continuously drifted from Jeon Rahwa’s form.

This phenomenon became even more pronounced when she moved dynamically, striving to embody the dignity expected of a martial instructor.

She was executing the Qi Circulation method he had previously demonstrated with absolute fidelity to his teachings.

It was remarkable that she could replicate the process so flawlessly after a solitary demonstration, but her unrelenting commitment to refining her martial foundation without a single moment of rest truly bordered on genius.

Dong Bongsu could not entirely comprehend the precise internal motivation driving her so fiercely.

He could only perceive the mechanics.

The systemic pressure exerted by the What is Hero’s Faith system.

And the subsequent Faith she directed toward him.

While additional elements surely existed, deciphering every minor variable was unnecessary.

Jeon Rahwa represented an intricate puzzle, but it remained solvable as long as he maintained dominion over the primary catalyst.

Specifically, her connection to the Sect Leader, ‘Kim Rae-won’.

Nurturing and managing this single pivotal relationship was more than sufficient.

“Mmph, mmph!”

Beside him, Dongmun Mutoe was persistently generating noise.

Forbidden from opening his mouth, he was forcefully signaling his presence by exhaling sharply through his nostrils.

Nevertheless, Dong Bongsu had no intention of granting the man permission to speak just yet.

He simply kept his eyes fixed on Jeon Rahwa.

Swoosh-.

A chilling current coiled around her frame as she chanted the passages, mimicking an invisible cord wrapping tightly around her.

Even so, the ambient temperature of the Training Ground remained unaltered.

Condensation merely materialized where her hands and feet made contact before pulling away—frosting the blue stone floor of the Training Ground, the scattered stones, the patches of turf, and the edges of the text pages.

It was nothing more than a basic physical reaction triggered by the thermal variance of heat absorption and release.

“Mmph! Mmph, mmph!”

This time, Dongmun Mutoe stamped his foot against the earth.

He did so with greater urgency than before, resembling a toddler desperate for the latrine.

At last, he reached into a leather pouch secured at his hip and extracted something.

Peculiarly, a stack of paper far exceeding the physical dimensions of the container emerged into view.

Dung-.

[A new item has been detected.]

『Small Grotto-Heaven Pouch』

◆ Grade: Legendary

◆ Category: Other

◆ Description: A portable storage vessel crafted by the Whiskered God Small Clan

◆ Special Effect: Capable of holding a modest quantity of objects.

‘So that is the gear I observed within the Guild Window moments ago.’

▸ Main Equipment: (Possesses Inventory)

The revelation did not startle him.

After all, artifacts of this nature were vividly preserved within Kim Rae-won’s recollections.

Granted, he could not confirm if this exact item was the one from those memories.

Dongmun Mutoe rapidly traced his finger across the paper.

Moments later, he extended the sheet, displaying it directly in front of Dong Bongsu’s face.

— That woman.

Deprived of speech, he was relying on written text to communicate.

The fellow was absolutely bursting with a desire to converse.

Swish, swish.

While continuing to emit muffled grunts, Dongmun Mutoe swiftly extended an index finger in Jeon Rahwa’s direction.

He then immediately scrawled fresh characters onto a blank page and thrust it forward.

— Concerning that martial style.

Dongmun Mutoe shifted to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Dong Bongsu, tracking Jeon Rahwa’s movements alongside him.

— The manner in which she manipulates that Yin-Cold Qi.

With the hand not occupied by the note, Dongmun Mutoe traced a circular path through the air.

The gesture was deliberate and meticulously precise.

— Normally, such energy is discharged outward. Freezing solid like ice or scattering violently like a snowstorm.

The perimeter of the circle closed.

His finger came to rest at the absolute center of the shape.

— But this follows a different path. Contraction and discharge are occurring simultaneously.

Dong Bongsu merely watched without offering a reply.

— It forms a framework where the frigid energy cycles through the pathways of the flesh while concurrently bleeding into the surroundings.

Dongmun Mutoe tilted his head to the side, utilizing the same finger to scratch his temple.

— Intitially, I assumed it was a style completely unknown to me.

Dong Bongsu maintained his silence.

— Heavenly Yin…….

A gust of wind swept past, agitating his hair.

— Am I correct? I recall their martial arts utilizing that exact mechanism.

In fairness, despite his incessant need to chatter, the fellow possessed an incredibly analytical mind.

Perhaps such insight was entirely expected from a Trigram Master belonging to the Heavenly Formation Dao Alliance.

In many respects, the study of Formations could be likened to the natural sciences and engineering of this realm.

‘Twin Snow Yin Cold Art.’

This was a martial technique he had retrieved from the remains of an expert discovered near the territory of the Eight-Tailed Fox. He had instructed Jeon Rahwa to master it simply because it aligned flawlessly with her innate physical constitution.

Yet, following his engagement with Cheol So-ah, a realization had dawned upon him.

The core characteristics of the Twin Snow Yin Cold Art bore a striking resemblance to the techniques practiced by the Heavenly Yin Sect.

At that juncture, he could not determine if the styles originated from a singular source or if it was merely a bizarre fluke, prompting him to withhold his final conclusion…

Now, any lingering doubt vanished.

That technique belonged exclusively to the organization known as the Heavenly Yin Sect.

Furthermore, it represented a far more advanced iteration than the martial arts utilized by Cheol So-ah.

— The jade ornament gracing her throat also appears to originate from the Heavenly Yin… from their collective.

Precisely as Dongmun Mutoe indicated, the『Jade Pendant of the Heavenly Yin Sect’s Maiden』 remained suspended around Jeon Rahwa’s neck, emitting a subtle glow.

※Features an integrated locator mechanism, operational between individuals sharing identical Mana.

‘A locator mechanism.’

Up to this point, the Heavenly Yin Sect had made no overt movements.

At least, nothing observable from the outside.

Nonetheless, it was certain…

‘The moment approaches.’

It would not be long before circumstances shifted.

Whether they arrived to reclaim the artifact, or to seek out Jeon Rahwa directly.

He could only hope their approach would not be a peaceful one.

Swish, swish-.

Dongmun Mutoe hurriedly channeled Fire Qi onto a fresh sheet, searing dark lines into the surface to compose a message.

— I possess a fair amount of knowledge regarding the Heavenly Yin…

Dong Bongsu turned his composed gaze fully toward Dongmun Mutoe’s countenance.

— So, if your curiosity is piqued, you need only ask.

Dongmun Mutoe grinned broadly.

His teeth, stained with grime from his recent bouts of rolling across the dirt, became visible.

— In return, you must provide thorough answers to every inquiry I make.

Dong Bongsu merely redirected his attention toward Jeon Rahwa.

The literacy instruction was still underway.

The icy current weaving around Jeon Rahwa’s form momentarily surged outward, lightly brushing against the children.

Jeon Rahwa immediately pulled the freezing energy back inside herself.

“Ah, forgive me, little ones.”

“It is perfectly fine, Master.”

“It felt refreshing, I enjoyed it.”

“Even so, I must remain vigilant. I cannot have any of you falling ill.”

As a warm smile graced her face, a wave of chatter instantly erupted among the youths.

“Why is that? Will the Sect Leader reprimand you?”

“Don’t be silly. Why would the Sect Leader deliver a scolding to auntie over something like this?”

“The Sect Leader would never find fault with that. He constantly assures Aunt… Master that she is doing a wonderful job.”

Jeon Rahwa’s cheeks deepened into a soft crimson tint.

“That is… quite enough! Moving on! The subsequent verse. The sun reaches its peak, and the moon diminishes. Recite it after me.”

“The sun reaches its peak, and the moon diminishes-.”

A collective, energetic response.

The echoes of merry laughter drifted across the Training Ground.

By all metrics, it was an entirely serene tableau.

Dong Bongsu observed the display for a brief interval before pivoting away.

— Where do you think you are going? I explicitly offered to resolve the matters you are curious about!

Thwack-.

The imprint of Dong Bongsu’s boot struck the man’s face once more.

He snatched a loose sheet of paper from the grasp of the collapsing Dongmun Mutoe and carved fresh characters into the parchment.

— You would do well to remain silent.

Leaving the message jammed firmly into Dongmun Mutoe’s mouth, Dong Bongsu walked away without looking back.

From this point forward, even if left completely unattended, Jeon Rahwa would manage affairs here independently.

● ● ●

The All-Knowing House.

Beams of sunlight filtered through the window panes, casting several illuminated squares across the surface of a chair.

Specks of dust floated lazily within the light, but Dong Bongsu ignored them entirely as he settled into the seat.

The wood gave way with a familiar, low groan.

“The matter regarding the Bandit Alliance has been thoroughly verified.”

Bae Dal-pae sat at the opposite side of the table, tipping a teapot to fill two small vessels.

“They have been utterly broken apart. While a few isolated survivors might persist, there is no longer any unified faction within the territory of this River Capital that could be classified as bandits.”

Dong Bongsu routinely lifted his cup to take a drink.

“The vast majority of organizations hostile to the Hero’s Sect have either been annihilated or have retreated to neighboring Walled Cities. A few seem to have abandoned the martial world altogether, opting for a quiet existence. I am confident that the likelihood of them organizing a counterattack is practically nonexistent.”

The outcome aligned with his calculations, yet it could not be deemed a desirable conclusion.

Tranquility was never the ultimate destination a true champion should strive to reach.

“Proceed.”

Bae Dal-pae went on.

“This pertains to the currents flowing beyond the borders of the River Capital.”

Dong Bongsu lowered his cup back down to the wood.

The contact produced a minimal sound, yet for some reason, Bae Dal-pae found his concentration locking onto Dong Bongsu with greater intensity.

“It appears the profile of the Hero’s Sect has been deeply etched into the consciousness of the surrounding territories.”

Dong Bongsu’s expression remained entirely flat.

“While no major factions have initiated physical movements just yet, the accounts have already circulated, and their influence is spreading with immense speed.”

“What sort of accounts?”

“That a fresh power has risen within the River Capital. That they eradicated the entire Bandit Alliance over the course of a single night. That the individual leading them is a mere youth. Essentially, reports of that nature.”

Bae Dal-pae checked off the points using his digits.

“Certain details have been blown out of proportion, while others have been minimized. For the most part, the world is maintaining a watchful stance.”

Dong Bongsu began striking the wood with his fingertip.

Tap, tap, tap.

An unvarying cadence.

“Even so, certain factions are displaying a profound interest. Whether motivated by goodwill or malice.”

Dong Bongsu offered a slight nod and folded his arms.

He concluded that this specific pattern of calculated restraint perfectly matched the public persona he had forged for Kim Rae-won.

“Keep going.”

Bae Dal-pae drew a deep breath before speaking again.

The weight behind his expression intensified.

“Next, we arrive at the most critical piece of intelligence.”

Rather than breaking his posture, Dong Bongsu leaned his chin against his hand.

“The entirety of the Central Plains is experiencing a massive upheaval.”

The edge of Dong Bongsu’s eyelid twitched imperceptibly.

Bae Dal-pae noted the tiny reaction instantly.

“An upheaval?”

“It concerns the Vast Heaven Infinite Sword Sect and the Dark Rakshasa Way.”

The room fell into absolute stillness.

Yet, within that silence, Dong Bongsu was rapidly extracting data from the depths of Kim Rae-won’s accumulated knowledge.

The Vast Heaven Infinite Sword Sect.

One of the prominent Ten Great Sects.

A colossal pillar representing the Orthodox Murim.

An illustrious lineage dedicated to the blade, whose prestige had remained untarnished for twelve centuries since its creation upon Vast Heaven Mountain at the southern boundary of the Yunling Mountain Range by the renowned Infinite Sword Saint, Vast Heaven True Person.

A massive entity boasting three thousand sworn members at its primary seat, swelling to fifteen thousand when accounting for external affiliates and secular followers.

The reigning leader, known as the Vast Heaven Sword Venerate, possesses combat prowess matching a Sword Emperor, while beneath his rank, the Infinite Sword Elder and the Three Swords of Vast Heaven uphold the clan’s authority.

Most notably, they are renowned throughout the Orthodox camp for their uncompromising ethics.

Reaching an accord with the Unorthodox faction? Such a concept is entirely foreign to their worldview.

The Dark Rakshasa Way.

One of the notorious Seven Great Demonic Sects.

The embodiment of insanity within the Unorthodox Murim.

For eight centuries following its establishment by the Rakshasa Demonic Sovereign—a figure who abandoned the path of Buddhism—it has spilled oceans of blood guided by the corrupted tenet that ‘Slaughter is Liberation.’ The one who inflicts death and the one who suffers it are both granted salvation.

They maintain that through the act of killing and being killed, a soul can ultimately sever all earthly attachments to ascend as an Immortal or a Buddha.

That fanatic conviction converted its adherents into the most remorseless executioners across the land.

A core contingent of two thousand zealots, expanding to ten thousand when factoring in external branches and subservient groups.

Yet, far more sinister than their sheer numbers is the intensity of their devotion.

The reigning ruler, the Dark Rakshasa Great Venerate, has maintained his iron rule for half a century and is widely considered to have virtually no rivals across the mortal landscape of the Central Plains.

Operating beneath his direct authority are the Left Guardian Blood Rakshasa, the Right Guardian White Bone Rakshasa, and the organization’s premier Twelve Rakshasas.

Icons painted in crimson fluid, ritual instruments fashioned from skeletal remains.

Even standard Unorthodox groups choose to distance themselves from such erratic behavior.

Two entities comparable to fire and water.

In truth, forces far more incompatible than fire and water.

“Reports indicate that an all-out conflict between the two factions is looming on the horizon.”

Bae Dal-pae’s tone dropped to a near whisper.

“In a month at the earliest. In three months at the absolute latest.”

Dong Bongsu’s finger resumed its rhythmic contact with the table.

This time, the tempo quickened slightly.

“It promises to be the grandest mobilization of forces since the Great Blood Heaven Turmoil that occurred a century ago.”

The Great Blood Heaven Turmoil.

Kim Rae-won’s cognitive library immediately pulled up the corresponding data for the term.

A century prior, a cataclysmic collision between the Orthodox and Unorthodox factions had dyed the very skies in shades of crimson.

An epoch that witnessed the greatest loss of life in the documented history of the Jianghu.

The total casualties from that era have yet to be definitively calculated.

The sole absolute truth, however, is that following that devastation, both the Orthodox and Unorthodox camps carefully avoided triggering large-scale warfare.

“What sparked this development?”

Dong Bongsu inquired.

Bae Dal-pae inclined his head respectfully.

“The Dark Rakshasa Way launched an assault against a subordinate outpost of the Vast Heaven Infinite Sword Sect. Roughly fifty practitioners were butchered, and reports state that an occult ceremony was performed utilizing their remains.”

“A ceremony?”

“By their definition, it was executed to claim a consecrated sacrifice.”

A consecrated sacrifice.

Dong Bongsu offered no spoken reaction.

He shifted his gaze out toward the window frame.

He observed a pristine sky.

An unblemished expanse.

Far past that horizon, in some distant place, a malignant storm was gathering strength.

“For what reason are you smiling?”

Spurred by Bae Dal-pae’s inquiry, Dong Bongsu snapped his head back around.

“Ah, did a smile slip out?”

“Indeed. It appeared that way.”

Dong Bongsu lifted his right hand, tracing the edges of his lips, the contour of his nose, and the margins of his eyes.

It was essential for him to commit this joyful expression to memory, utilizing the physical feedback of his fingertips to lock it away.

He would need to deploy and adjust this specific look in future scenarios.

Regardless, looking at the situation from his standpoint, preventing a smile was an impossibility.

Warfare.

The mere concept forced his lips to curve upward.

“Because this presents itself as the ideal origin point to enact the grand design.”

How could he suppress a smile when the scent of impending slaughter was already permeating the air?

What could possibly be more exquisite than the targets volunteering to assemble in one location?

How could he expected to restrain his joy when the flawless setting for his grand introduction to the Jianghu had been meticulously arranged?

In moments like these, the persona of a ‘hero’ proved to be incredibly advantageous.

For it granted him the liberty to smile as broadly as he wished.

Even if the onlookers chose to interpret that smile in their own way.