Chapter 212

Chapter 212: The Eight Trigrams Hall (1)

“By this point, those three must have crossed paths, surely?”

A soft chuckle slipped past his lips.

Strolling along the quiet mountain trail that wound toward the Formation Tower, Dongmun Mutoe laughed quietly to himself.

Down in the River Capital, the individual they were meant to encounter was not him, but Kim Rae-won—the most fascinating and perilous figure currently active in the Jianghu, as far as his own knowledge went.

‘If my junior sister and Trigram Master Myo come face-to-face with Sect Leader Kim…’

The grin on Dongmun Mutoe’s face widened significantly.

What typically occurred when one blazing fire encountered another?

An even grander inferno was destined to break out.

“Kekeke.”

Ah, what a pity I cannot witness it with my own eyes.

Right at that moment.

Thump.

A sudden tug reverberated through one side of his chest.

He didn’t need to pause to ponder or calculate its origin.

The sensation pointed directly toward the territory of the Hero’s Sect.

‘Could this be yet another consequence of the Oath?’

This peculiar restraint always left behind a distinct feeling, as though a physical cord were pulling him toward Kim Rae-won.

Naturally, he had not yet unlocked the underlying mechanics of how it operated.

Even so, this persistent yank did not trouble him.

Quite the opposite, in fact.

‘How fascinating.’

To a true intellectual, the uncharted and unexplained was rarely a cause for dread; rather, it sparked pure exhilaration.

“Hah. How much further must I trek? Oh?”

It was precisely around the time he completed his third full day of walking.

“At long last. Whew. I can finally give my feet a rest.”

Thick concentrations of Formation Qi, a signature characteristic exclusive to the Heavenly Formation Dao Alliance, began to tingle against his skin.

Once he moved past the Liaison Office situated on the fringes of the Formation Tower and stepped into the primary Headquarters, an entranceway heavily fortified by successive spiritual barriers from the Layered Formations came into view.

Any ordinary traveler would find themselves trapped inside a Bewilderment Formation the very instant they set foot into this territory, left to wander aimlessly in endless loops. To a seasoned Trigram Master, however, navigating this place was no more difficult than stepping through their own front door.

It was simply a well-trodden path through a highly familiar atmosphere.

A place to call home.

‘Though, perhaps I ought to view it as my former home by now?’

The moment he crossed the threshold into the Headquarters of the Formation Tower, he detected an ambiance that deviated sharply from the norm.

The Low-rank Formation Masters were darting around with immense haste, and the countenances of the individuals rushing through the hallways were tightly drawn with anxiety.

Dongmun Mutoe reached out and halted a passing Formation Master mid-stride.

“What is the cause of all this commotion?”

“Who goes there?”

His deeply isolated lifestyle meant that the vast majority of personnel failed to identify his face. While this anonymity usually served as a benefit, it proved rather troublesome during instances like this.

“A Trigram Master.”

“Pardon? The Trigram Masters are currently convened within the Eight Trigrams Hall as we speak…”

“The Eight Trigrams Hall?”

The Eight Trigrams Hall.

A grand council chamber positioned at the absolute summit of the Formation Tower.

The layout featured an eight-sided chamber containing a circular table carved with the sacred Eight Trigrams emblem at its center, enveloped by eight dedicated seats for the Trigram Masters.

For every single Trigram Master to be called together in that chamber could only mean…

“Ah, it sounds as though they remain locked in a fierce dispute. Am I correct?”

“Yes… That is true, but who exactly are you?”

“I already told you, I am a Trigram Master, you little brat.”

Dongmun Mutoe completely disregarded the bewildered expression of the puzzled Low-rank Formation Master and pivoted toward the staircase.

As his boots ascended the winding, spiral steps.

[So, you have finally arrived.]

Out of nowhere, a voice resonated clearly inside his mind.

To be perfectly accurate, it wasn’t a physical sound at all.

It felt much more akin to a foreign intent, or perhaps a projected thought.

Yet, he recognized without a shadow of a doubt exactly who was responsible for sending it.

“It seems you truly do possess the qualities of a deity, considering you can execute a feat of this magnitude.”

A Mind-Connecting Art transmitted across a distance of hundreds of li… Furthermore, it had flawlessly detected the exact second he set foot inside the Formation Tower.

Could this truly be a being who had transcended mortal limits?

Tossing yet another unresolved query onto his growing mental list, Dongmun Mutoe pressed forward, a faint smile gracing his features.

He directed his steps toward the Eight Trigrams Hall, where the remaining Trigram Masters were undoubtedly still bickering and quarreling over the ongoing crisis involving the Vast Heaven Infinite Sword Sect and the Dark Rakshasa Way.

● ● ●

Inside the walls of the Eight Trigrams Hall.

Three of the eight prestigious Trigram Master chairs sat completely unoccupied.

The Fire Formation Division (Li).

The Mountain Formation Division (Gen).

The Thunder Formation Division (Zhen).

With Dongmun Mutoe, Yan Bilyeong, and Myo Jinheo all missing from the chamber, the gathering had stretched into its second consecutive day. The remaining five Trigram Masters, alongside the Yin-Yang Guard, sat in a tight circle around the octagonal table.

The most thunderous voice in the room belonged to Baek Jang-gyeong, the leader representing the Heaven Formation Division of the Qian Trigram.

“Allow me to state this once more.”

A broad-shouldered man in his late fifties boasting meticulously bound snowy hair slammed his palm flat against the wood.

With a sharp cracking noise, every single teacup resting on the surface rattled violently.

“What this Formation Tower has preserved over the course of three centuries is not mere neutrality, but absolute dignity. If we permit our dignity to be compromised, our neutrality will inevitably disintegrate along with it.”

The collective attention of the remaining Trigram Masters focused entirely on Baek Jang-gyeong.

“The Vast Heaven Infinite Sword Sect stands as a colossal pillar of the Orthodox Faction. Among the esteemed Ten Great Sects, they are widely hailed as the Number One Sword. To align our interests with an institution of that caliber means solidifying the structural dignity of the Formation Tower.”

The tone of his voice was as deep and resonant as a thunderclap.

A suffocating aura of authority, entirely appropriate for the longest-serving member among the Trigram Masters, blanketed the entirety of the Eight Trigrams Hall.

“On the flip side, what happens if we form an alliance with the Dark Rakshasa Way? With a pack of lunatics whose primary doctrine proclaims ‘Slaughter is Liberation’? Doing so would be equivalent to announcing to the entire realm that the Formation Tower functions as a mere tool for the Unorthodox and Demonic Paths.”

His stance was utterly unyielding.

“The exact moment we choose to link hands with the Unorthodox and Demonic Paths, the entirety of the Orthodox Faction will sever the quiet, unwritten partnerships they have maintained with us. If that scenario comes to pass, what value will all that wealth hold?”

As Baek Jang-gyeong’s declaration drew to a close, a heavy, brief hush settled over the room.

The person who eventually shattered the quietude was a woman seated directly across from him.

Ga Myo-ryeon, the representative of the Lake Formation Division of the Dui Trigram.

A woman who appeared to be in her early thirties.

Possessing a slender frame, she spent nearly every waking moment sliding the beads of a wooden abacus back and forth.

Her eyes were constantly narrowed to such an extent that her pupils only became visible whenever she flashed a smile, imparting a profoundly unreadable quality to her demeanor.

Click, click, click.

After intentionally shifting the wooden counters three separate times, Ga Myo-ryeon finally spoke.

“Dignity, you call it?”

A soft, amused smile played on her lips.

“Can you purchase raw Formation Stones utilizing nothing but dignity?”

“What insolence are you spouting?”

“I am inquiring as to whether you can fund our extensive research overhead with mere dignity. Can you fulfill the financial contracts of our Low-rank Formation Masters using dignity as currency?”

Click, click.

“The upfront payment provided by the Dark Rakshasa Way vastly exceeds the entirety of the compensation put forward by Vast Heaven. To be precise, it is threefold higher. What is more, Dark Rakshasa delivered their funds ahead of schedule, whereas Vast Heaven stubbornly demands that we accept payment only after the task is completed.”

Ga Myo-ryeon’s fingers kept the abacus moving rhythmically.

“If your plan is to disregard basic arithmetic, then you might as well personally restructure the entire financial plan for the Research Pavilion. If Trigram Master Baek can successfully barter for Formation Stones using his precious dignity, I will happily throw my full support behind your proposal.”

“Is this what we have come to! Is the Eight Trigrams Hall nothing more than a forum for you to whine about finances!”

Baek Jang-gyeong’s heavy fist hammered against the tabletop a second time.

“Do you happen to recall the primary Creed of the Formation Tower, Trigram Master Baek?”

Ga Myo-ryeon’s delivery remained completely unruffled.

“’Wealth constitutes Orthodoxy, while a lack of wealth constitutes Unorthodoxy.’ Was it not our revered Founding Ancestor himself who established the rule that where riches flow, righteousness resides, and where riches are absent, wickedness dwells?”

“That foundational Creed was never intended to be interpreted in such a vulgar manner!”

“Then pray tell, what exactly does it mean?”

“It signifies that the Formation Tower possesses the liberty to welcome any commission without harboring personal bias, not that we ought to join forces with absolute lunacy!”

“Lunacy, is it.”

Ga Myo-ryeon tilted her head to one side in a subtle gesture.

Her slit-like eyes peeled open halfway.

“Tell me, is there a single faction involved in this grand conflict that cannot be described as mad?”

“…”

“Consider the Vast Heaven Infinite Sword Sect’s stubborn refusal to descend from their primary peak even after one of their auxiliary branches was utterly wiped off the map—do you label that as honorable pride? Or is it merely foolish arrogance? If a titan of the Orthodox Faction lacks the resolve to seek retribution for its own fallen subordinates, then where exactly does this grand dignity you speak of hide?”

Click.

The abacus let out a lone, crisp snap.

“The specific dignity that Trigram Master Baek holds in such high regard is a dignity that I believe Vast Heaven has already shattered into pieces through their own inaction.”

“…!”

Baek Jang-gyeong’s eyes expanded in sheer indignation.

Right at that explosive juncture, the Trigram Master representing the Water Formation Division of the Kan Trigram sought to mediate.

He was a man in his late thirties who carried a naturally mild and pleasant disposition.

“Surely both perspectives carry valid merits, do they not? Why don’t we consider partitioning our available personnel into smaller detachments and sending aid to both factions simultaneously…”

“An incredibly spineless proposition.”

Baek Jang-gyeong shut down the idea without a moment’s hesitation.

“It is not merely spineless, but also foolish.”

Ga Myo-ryeon chimed in immediately after, her expression still wearing that characteristic, narrow-eyed grin.

“Attempting to straddle the fence is the absolute fastest method to transform both factions into mortal enemies.”

Staring down a ferocious verbal clash that felt precisely like a duel to the death waged with twin blades crafted from pure rhetoric, the Trigram Master of the Water Formation Division promptly fell quiet.

The Trigram Master representing the Wind Formation Division of the Xun Trigram folded his arms across his chest and offered his own thoughts.

“And that is the exact reason this debate has dragged on for two whole days. What worth is there in forcing a resolution when three of our Trigram Masters are missing from the table? It would be far wiser to postpone our final judgment until Trigram Master Dongmun, Trigram Master Yan, and Trigram Master Myo manage to return…”

“Continue the discussion.”

A solitary, brief command instantly silenced the entire expanse of the Eight Trigrams Hall.

Seated at the primary position of the octagonal table.

A withered, diminutive old man occupied the most unpretentious seat in the room, elevated just a step higher than the chairs designated for the eight Trigram Masters.

He appeared to be well into his sixties.

He possessed a remarkably frail, slight physique.

His physical stature didn’t even amount to half of Baek Jang-gyeong’s imposing frame, and he was noticeably smaller than Ga Myo-ryeon as well.

He easily looked like the least physically imposing figure among all the masters gathered.

Be that as it may, the ceremonial garment draped over this elderly man’s shoulders was not the standard eight-hued attire worn by the Trigram Masters.

He wore a pristine, snow-white Yin-Yang Robe, beautifully decorated with the intricate Eight Trigrams emblem that the original Yin-Yang Guard was rumored to have embroidered with his own hands three centuries ago.

It stood as the sole garment of its kind in existence under the heavens.

Furthermore.

The spiritual pressure radiating from beneath that fabric was far too peaceful and ordered to be categorized as standard Formation Qi.

It felt as though the entire Eight Trigrams Hall itself was merely an extension of the old man’s active Formation.

No, to state it more accurately, that was the literal reality.

The entire movement of Formation Qi inside the Eight Trigrams Hall was revolving around that tiny, elderly man as its central pivot point.

A master who was actively maintaining a grand spiritual array simply by occupying a seat in the room.

The legendary figure rumored to be capable of manifesting five distinct Formations with every single stride he took, and generating seven intricate variations with every breath he drew.

Five Formations with Every Step, Seven Variations with Every Breath.

This individual was none other than the reigning Yin-Yang Guard, Jin Mugeuk.

The intensely sharp eyes set deep within his weathered face held a depth greater than any illumination reflecting off the table, and a keenness that surpassed any forged steel.

After raising his cup to take a slow sip of tea, his gaze drifted unhurriedly across the assembled masters.

That simple action proved entirely sufficient.

The Trigram Master of the Wind Formation Division instantly held his tongue, while both Baek Jang-gyeong and Ga Myo-ryeon forced themselves to swallow whatever words they had been preparing to speak next.

The consultation pressed onward.

Yet, it remained entirely deadlocked.

Vast Heaven or Dark Rakshasa.

Moral justification or pragmatic utility.

Dignity or financial gain.

Trapped between these two opposing pillars, the remaining Trigram Masters could do nothing more than endlessly balance the scales, utterly incapable of delivering a definitive resolution.

The Trigram Master representing the Earth Formation Division of the Kun Trigram was a profoundly quiet man in his forties who had chosen to communicate his perspective throughout the two-day gathering solely via minor nods or subtle shakes of his head.

He had not voiced a single spoken syllable.

Baek Jang-gyeong’s passionate plea for structural dignity, Ga Myo-ryeon’s cold calculation of practical numbers, the Water Formation Division’s attempt at a middle ground, and the Wind Formation Division’s strict adherence to proper procedural protocol.

And underlying it all, the heavy silence maintained by the Yin-Yang Guard.

With the debate completely stalled in this manner well into its second afternoon, both factions had thoroughly exhausted every argument available to them.

It had degraded into a repetitive cycle that could never be broken without the introduction of an entirely new element.

“My stance on this matter remains completely unaltered. The dignity of our institution…”

Just as the endless dispute between Baek Jang-gyeong and Ga Myo-ryeon threatened to flare up for the umpteenth time.

Creeak—.

The heavily secured entrance doors of the Eight Trigrams Hall swung wide open.

And then.

“My, how could all of you possibly hold a debate on such a gripping subject without inviting me to the table?”

A relaxed, drawn-out voice instantly filled the silence.

He possessed a sickly, pale visage completely lacking in healthy color, a remarkably slender build, and gave off the distinct impression of someone who might easily topple over from a stiff breeze.

Even so, his lips were turned upward in an undeniably playful, mischievous grin.

Dongmun Mutoe stepped across the threshold into the Eight Trigrams Hall.

The moment he crossed into the room, he gave his robes a firm shake.

A three-day collection of highway dust cascaded down to the floor.

“Dongmun Mutoe? Where under the sun have you been idling away your time, only choosing to grace us with your presence at this hour?!”

Baek Jang-gyeong shifted his massive torso around and roared.

His tone was a mixture of stern reprimand and genuine relief.

Ga Myo-ryeon’s busy fingers also came to a halt on her abacus.

Her heavily narrowed eyes swept across Dongmun Mutoe’s figure once.

“…So, you have returned.”

The Trigram Master of the Earth Formation Division offered a minuscule nod of recognition, his features remaining entirely blank.

The Trigram Master of the Water Formation Division let out a long, quiet sigh of immense relief.

And finally.

The Yin-Yang Guard.

He raised his ceramic cup back up to his lips and took another slow sip of the steaming brew.

“You have arrived.”

The collective response from the room was overwhelmingly positive, leaning heavily toward a warm reception.

This reaction was entirely logical, considering that Dongmun Mutoe was widely celebrated as the most brilliant prodigy to ever emerge from the Formation Tower.

His sudden reentry was bound to inject a massive wave of motion into the completely stagnant gathering.

Swoosh.

After casting his eyes over every face present, Dongmun Mutoe flashed a bright grin and strolled directly toward the vacant seat designated for the leader of the Fire Formation Division, lowering himself into it with complete ease.

He acted precisely as though he had been occupying that very chair since the meeting commenced two days prior.

“I managed to pick up a few scraps of information on my journey back. I believe I have a firm grasp on the overall circumstances, so please, do not let me interrupt your discussion.”

“Before we proceed with that.”

The Trigram Master of the Wind Formation Division scanned the chamber and voiced a question.

“What has become of Trigram Master Yan and Trigram Master Myo? Did the two of them not journey back alongside you?”

“Ah, those two stumbled upon some rather pressing matters that required their immediate attention.”

Dongmun Mutoe provided a breezy, casual reply.

“They should be making their way back to us shortly.”

Dongmun Mutoe tugged the corners of his mouth higher and smoothly steered the conversation in an entirely new direction.

“Vast Heaven or Dark Rakshasa. You all must be thoroughly sick to death of spinning this same wheel after two straight days. Would anyone object if I introduced a slightly fresh angle to the table?”

Baek Jang-gyeong narrowed his gaze suspiciously.

“A fresh angle, you say?”

“Indeed. The core assumption upon which this entire argument rests is fundamentally flawed.”

Ga Myo-ryeon’s fingers set the wooden abacus beads into motion once more.

Dongmun Mutoe propped his elbow onto the wood and leaned the weight of his chin against his palm.

Right at that exact instant.

Thump.

The sensation struck him yet again.

That powerful intent, effortlessly cutting through immense physical distance, echoed clearly inside his mind.

Dongmun Mutoe’s grin stretched even wider at that exact moment.

“Tell me, have any of you by chance caught wind of a brand-new organization calling themselves the Hero’s Sect?”