Chapter 328

Chapter 328
Chapter 328
Assembly of the Martial World (2)

A sense of discord lingered in the air.

Hugo weighed the circumstances, a solemn look anchoring his features.

‘Let us look at this neutrally. Evaluating myself, Ha Seung-hoon.’

At present, he was staying with the Zhuge Clan as their visitor, holding enough of their confidence to be brought along on this vital undertaking.

‘The lower tier of the Master Realm. An exceptional achievement for an individual barely past twenty.’

The vast majority of martial practitioners failed to reach such heights until their third decade of life, and a significant portion never achieved it whatsoever.

Could that account for how everyone was acting around him?

‘…That hardly seems sufficient.’

Though uncommon, the land was not entirely devoid of other extraordinary talents.

Namgung Hwang, the youthful heir of the Southern Palace Clan, had attained that very same rank, even if he possessed a slight advantage in years.

Furthermore, Hugo had been covertly administering aid to Zhuge Hyemi and the royal bloodline, but his actions had been masked with extreme discretion, meaning those deeds should still be cloaked in secrecy.

Therefore, the underlying cause for their behavior…

‘…They are aware.’

As their steps brought them closer to the grand pavilion designated for the welcoming rituals, Hugo shifted his eyes away, a faint, self-deprecating smirk tugging at his lips. He could feel the inquisitive gazes of the crowd, their eyes gleaming with intense curiosity.

This went beyond mere respect for a gifted young martial artist.

Had it been nothing more than that, he could have easily shrugged it off as standard inquisitiveness…

‘But the way they are reacting… ’

Namgung So-ran, her eyes reflecting a peculiar blend of thrill and fascination, remained practically tethered to his side. Her brother, Namgung Hwang, was straining to hold her back.

The young heir, behaving precisely as the future leader of his house should, maintained a perfectly tranquil and poised exterior… yet he could not deceive Hugo’s heightened perceptions, which vastly outmatched the senses of a standard Master Realm practitioner.

‘He is keeping guard against me. Immoderately so.’

This was not born of envy or a desire to compete.

It was the specific brand of alertness one reserves for an inherently perilous and volatile threat.

His posture was rigid, prepared to counter any abrupt gesture or strike.

They had uncovered something.

‘…I have a suspicion… ’

Hugo let out a soft breath, his mind drifting back to an earlier meeting.

Namgung Woo, the former Grand Elder of the Southern Palace Clan, stood as one of the titanic figures from the generation of the past.

Hugo had perceived a peculiar, scrutinizing stare from the old man, as though his very essence was being pulled apart and inspected.

He had not detected any strange fluctuations of inner force during that encounter, as deploying one’s spiritual pressure upon a first introduction would be highly discourteous… but given the immense chasm between their respective boundaries, it was entirely plausible for a master of the Mysterious Realm to possess a specialized technique for uncovering his hidden nature.

‘I exercised caution, but it fell short against an adept of the Mysterious Realm.’

Harley had previously unmasked a awakened soul through nothing more than a simple clasp of hands. Hugo had always kept the threat of exposure in the back of his mind.

He merely had not anticipated it unraveling in quite this fashion.

“Young Master Ha, is everything well? Do you have something on your mind?”

“Ah, forgive me. I was merely drifting through my own reflections.”

“If you are feeling unwell, you are entirely welcome to rest within your assigned chambers.”

“Haha, I could hardly justify resting on our very first day. Besides, when else will the opportunity arise to encounter so many distinguished figures of the realm?”

“…The days ahead are plenty…”

“Even so, the introductory rituals carry great weight.”

Hugo offered a light laugh, gently brushing aside the anxieties of Zhuge Junghyeok.

This gathering was neither a massive congress nor a grand feast. For the most part, it consisted of casual dialogues and the sharing of intelligence among the envoys of the various sects.

It functioned primarily as an arena for forging alliances and social bonds.

‘Naturally, being an occasion hosted by the Shaolin Temple, a raucous celebration would be entirely out of place.’

The welcoming ritual was a mere formality, yet it remained an ancestral custom, meaning it could not be cast aside.

Because it marked the opening day, every single individual taking part in the summit would be assembled in a solitary location. It offered the ultimate window to judge the shifting tides of the martial world.

‘I shall dedicate my attention to this for the time being. It appears the Southern Palace Clan has no intentions of unmasking me to the public… Though in truth, it matters very little if they choose to.’

The Zhuge Clan was already privy to the truth, meaning the veil of secrecy had already vanished.

Furthermore, the monks of the Shaolin Temple had likely deduced a portion of the truth following his intervention with the royal bloodline.

Had absolute concealment been his primary directive, he would have ensured that Harris and Harley traveled under far more rigorous deceptions.

He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders, finding himself a bit more at ease, and shifted his gaze… only to find his eyes locking with those of Zhuge Junghyeok.

The young heir of the Zhuge Clan appeared rather unsettled, covertly watching him with a peculiar look.

“Is there a matter you wish to raise?”

Hugo inquired, experiencing a touch of awkwardness, which caused Zhuge Junghyeok to waver momentarily before speaking with immense care.

“…Well, at what point did you establish such familiarity with the Young Mistress of the Namgung family?”

“…”

“What I mean is… I was under the impression that you two had rarely crossed paths before today. Yet you appear remarkably close since our arrival… Ahem, I imply nothing untoward by this. It was merely a passing thought.”

Hugo’s gaze sharpened slightly as he listened to the clumsy explanation.

‘I am entirely in the dark myself.’

He was genuinely beginning to question the fundamental capabilities of Zhuge Junghyeok.

—

Just as anticipated, the welcoming ritual proved to be a brief and unremarkable event.

The authorities and envoys of the distinct factions traded formal courtesies and promptly went their separate ways, scattering into the diverse sectors of the monastery.

The remaining attendees were granted the freedom to explore the sanctuary grounds, mingle, and engage with one another.

They were permitted to converse, engage in friendly combat within the designated courtyards, or simply retire to their rooms for relaxation.

It was an easygoing assembly, designed to foster unity and mutual respect through unforced socialization.

Naturally, when bringing together such a varied assortment of individuals—spanning different generations, temperaments, aspirations, and martial doctrines—the potential for disagreements and friction was ever-present…

However, the enduring legacy of this recurring summit served as proof that the advantages far eclipsed the hazards.

Foremost among those advantages was the chance for the youth, the destined rulers of their respective organizations, to weave networks of alliance.

“Amitabha. My name is Gongjin. I wish to extend my deepest appreciation to each of you for undertaking such an arduous journey to be here.”

“Think nothing of it. It is a rare privilege to be granted entry into the Shaolin Temple, one of the true pillars governing the martial world.”

“Quite true. Stepping out into the grand stage of the world has made me recognize the limitations of my own perspective. I now truly comprehend why the patriarchs insisted so heavily on traveling to widen one’s views.”

“Hahaha! My sentiments exactly. I held the belief that my own brother stood as the unrivaled genius of the Central Plains, but now… my perspective has shifted completely! On another note, I am Peng Yuanshao of the Peng Clan! It is a distinct honor to make your acquaintance!”

The younger martial practitioners formed a small minority amidst the predominantly seasoned and older attendees.

As a consequence, they naturally clustered together, trading titles and establishing initial rapport.

“It appears the Murong Clan and the Kunlun Sect have not arrived. It is quite a pity not to have them among us.”

“Ah, I possess some insight regarding the circumstances of the Murong Clan. My own Peng Clan resides within reasonable proximity to them, allowing us to receive periodic updates. They are currently occupied with repelling a massive coalition of outlaws within Liaoning. The region of Hebei is similarly strained, reinforcing their lines against impending incursions.”

“The sheer distance prevents us from rendering any meaningful aid. We can do little more than offer invocations for their triumph.”

A few among the group shared prior relationships due to neighboring boundaries, but the vast majority were interacting for the first time, rendering their dialogues courteous and measured.

The Grand Summit of the Martial World convened once every four or five cycles.

It stood as a precious window for individuals separated by vast provinces to gather and converse, prompting them all to be highly motivated to cultivate fresh ties.

Yet, exceptions to this harmony were inevitable.

“It seems the uncivilized factions along the frontiers are far too preoccupied slaughtering one another. I can only hope they remain isolated there and refrain from bothering us.”

A sudden, mocking pronouncement cut through the chatter, bringing silence to the space.

The speaker, Dang Hagi of the Sichuan Tang Clan, merely wore a disdainful smirk as his eyes swept over the gathering, his head tilted back arrogantly as if daring anyone to voice an objection.

“…Additionally, the Beggars’ Sect has failed to appear. I recall their chosen heir attended the previous gathering in person.”

“It is entirely reasonable, given the current turmoil they face.”

“…Quite so.”

The remaining youth chose to pay him no heed, acting as though the words had never been spoken.

They had received strict mandates to steer clear of pointless disputes, and they refused to provide him with the slightest pretext to initiate a brawl.

“A fortunate absence, if you ask me. Those paupers would do nothing but foul the air of this sanctuary. The streets are already teeming with vagrants, so what drives them to master the martial paths anyway… Tsk.”

Yet the reckless youth, who had been dragged to this gathering entirely against his own wishes, paid no heed to decorum.

His crude utterances and demeanor delivered a direct insult to the reputation of his own house, which had sent him here in the hopes that he might gain civility and expand his understanding through this gathering.

He had maintained a façade of proper behavior while under the watchful eyes of the traveling protectors…

‘A textbook archetype. This brand of individual is practically guaranteed to trigger a crisis down the line.’

Hugo, taking in the display from a distance, brushed his hand against his chin in contemplation, his features tightening with gravity.

His internal warning system for narrative tropes was ringing loudly.

It bore all the markings of an impending disaster.

‘This breeds discomfort. A dark intuition is settling over me.’

His primary mandate for this excursion consisted of gathering intelligence and evaluating the shifting landscape of the martial realm.

Simultaneously, he aimed to forge bridges with the distinct factions to broaden his own reach.

Yet an abrupt flash of foresight, a freezing wave of dread, caused him to pause.

His physical capabilities were not his most striking trait, but his internal resolve, forged through endless trials, stood leagues above the norm. He could not dismiss what his instincts were whispering…

“Young Master Ha! For what reason are you lingering here in isolation?”

The moment that thought crystallized,

His underlying dread shifted into immediate reality as Namgung So-ran, a radiant grin illuminating her features, stepped into his path.

Every gaze in the pavilion shifted squarely onto them the moment she opened her mouth.

A striking woman naturally commanded the absolute focus of any gathering of young swordsmen, and the men throughout the hall had been surreptitiously watching her movements.

Women were a rare sight in this assembly, and she occupied the absolute center of their social circle.

The men had been biding their time for a chance to speak with her, yet none had possessed the nerve to disrupt the exclusively female circle… and now, she had taken the initiative to approach him.

‘This is problematic.’

Among the watching eyes was Dang Hagi, the antagonistic youth representing the Sichuan Tang Clan.

Hugo offered a silent, internal lament and momentarily lowered his eyelids.

“Oh, you have yet to be introduced to the rest of the company, correct? This is Lady Hwangbo Yoon of the Hwangbo Clan, and beside her is…”

“I-it is an honor to make your acquaintance, Young Hero.”

“Amitabha.”

She proceeded to introduce him to the other young ladies she had been conversing with.

While he recognized the kindness behind the act, he deeply wished she had selected a far less public setting… He offered a constrained smile, and then his gaze locked onto hers.

‘Ah, this was an intentional maneuver.’

Her eyes, gleaming with twisted delight, were locked squarely upon his form.

Those striking, midnight-dark eyes mirrored an odd combination of friendliness mixed with… a playful malice, an unspoken pledge of impending… chaos.

‘Though in truth, this serves my purposes well.’

As a mere tag-along of the Zhuge Clan, engaging with these powerful lineages on an equal platform presented a significant challenge.

Yet by drawing him into her circle, she was bridging that gap and pulling the spotlight directly toward him…

‘Indeed, this accelerates the process.’

Managing an unpolished brat from the Tang Clan posed no true difficulty.

Hugo offered a warm smile to the surrounding youth, his presentation shifting to one of openness and warmth.

“And who might you be…?”

Before Dang Hagi could conclude his inquiry, his voice dripping with unmistakable malice,

Whisper—

…a sudden wave of shouting rippled from the exterior grounds.

Directly following the noise, an astonishing proclamation cut through the air.

“The Kunlun Sect has reached the gates!”

The focus of the entire gathering, extending far beyond the youthful martial artists, pivoted instantly toward the main courtyard doors.

“Kunlun?”

“By what means did they manage to arrive?”

“They must have navigated perilous paths to complete such a journey. What could possibly compel them to endure such extreme hazards?”

The collective astonishment was entirely justified.

The Kunlun Sect held a seat among the Nine Sects and One Gang, yet their sanctuary lay within Qinghai, an isolated territory far removed from the core of the Central Plains.

Weighing the brutal geography, the path connecting Kunlun to Shaolin stretched greater than tenfold the distance separating the Zhuge Clan’s lands from this temple.

Furthermore, Qinghai served as the violent boundary line separating them from the Demonic Cult, remaining an active zone of warfare.

‘Hold on.’

Upon receiving the intelligence, the persistent dread that had been troubling his thoughts flared with sudden violence.

In that instant, he perceived where his calculations had erred.

‘What drove me to believe this unease stemmed merely from petty squabbles?’

Their envy held zero significance to him. They represented no genuine threat to his safety.

There existed no logical basis for him to experience such deep anxiety.

‘Therefore, the cause must be… ’

The true origin of his dark premonition lay elsewhere.

An event resembling…

[“Steel yourselves for combat! All Arhats, deploy to your designated defensive lines!”]

A commanding voice, infused with immense inner force, thundered across the entire temple complex.

In that exact split second,

Rumble—!

…A shattering explosion tore through the atmosphere, and an overwhelming, malevolent energy akin to a boundless blaze erupted into existence, sending a piercing shiver straight down Hugo’s spine.