Chapter 127

Chapter 127
## Chapter 127: Black Wolf (1)

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As the night deepened and the day’s labors concluded, Sima Geon and his kin assembled for a modest drink.

“Are we headed for financial ruin at this rate?”

Cheol Woo, dissatisfied with the small cups Sima Hyeon had set out, transferred his spirits into an expansive bowl and let out a heavy breath.

“Is the situation truly that dire?”

Sima Hyeon inquired.

“We aren’t even pulling in half of our previous earnings. Our absence wasn’t that lengthy, yet it appears every client has moved on to other merchants.”

Cheol Woo drained the entire bowl in a single gulp and let out a thunderous burp.

“Damn it, I feel completely forsaken.”

“It has only been a few days. It is illogical to expect the same volume of trade immediately. Persistent effort will eventually fix our standing.”

Sima Geon offered Cheol Woo some light food as he spoke.

“I am aware. It just grates on my nerves.”

“What about the rest of you? It has been some time—are you coping well?”

“My limbs are heavy, but my spirit is at peace, so it is fine. Idleness makes the frame comfortable, but the soul feels…”

Sima Ho offered a strained grin, hinting at the stifling nature of his time spent at the Ha Hu family estate.

“And your status?”

Sima Geon directed his attention to Gwa Yu.

“I am doing well. My injuries have knitted together significantly.”

“It seems so. Your body mends with impressive speed.”

Despite his words, Sima Geon’s expression remained dark.

Gwa Yu had sustained a devastating wound to his right eye during the previous assault by the Heavenly Demon Cult. While he hadn’t been blinded entirely, his sight in that eye was nearly extinguished. Furthermore, the area around his other eye had been gashed. Fortunately, that vision remained intact, but the jagged scar running from his brow to the edge of his cheekbone was a grim sight.

“Would you care for a drink?”

Sima Geon held out a cup.

“No, my thanks. The healer warned that spirits are detrimental to healing flesh.”

Gwa Yu declined with a polite gesture, causing Cheol Woo to snort in disbelief.

“What does that charlatan know? For the majority of ailments, there is no finer cure than strong liquor. Put aside your worries—drink. Believe your elder brother.”

Cheol Woo pushed a bowl toward him, but Gwa Yu looked hesitant and sought Sima Geon’s reaction.

“Cease this. That logic might apply to you or Manchu, who have wine flowing through your arteries instead of blood, but ordinary people should refrain.”

Cheol Woo muttered under his breath as Sima Geon pulled the bowl away from Gwa Yu and finished it himself.

“What can I provide for you?”

Sima Geon asked with an air of nonchalance.

“I beg your pardon?”

Gwa Yu’s eyes widened with a start.

“Blood Lion—what is it you wish for me to do on your behalf?”

Gwa Yu did not offer a prompt reply.

As Gwa Yu sank into contemplation, the boisterous atmosphere of the gathering grew quiet.

Cheol Woo was frantically making signs at Gwa Yu.

The gestures clearly signaled for him to demand vengeance immediately. However, Gwa Yu remained tight-lipped despite the encouragement.

“Do you require more time to decide?”

Sima Geon asked, a slight smile touching his lips.

“Yes.”

“Very well. Do not overthink the matter. We are able to share this laughter and conversation because of your actions. Everyone here recognizes that. Whatever you seek—actually, ‘seek’ is too formal. Whatever you request, we shall not deny you, so speak without reservation.”

“I understand.”

Gwa Yu gave a radiant smile, though he soon tilted his head downward.

Sima Geon saw the moisture hitting the floorboards but chose to act as though he hadn’t noticed.

“Are you weeping?”

Cheol Woo leaned in close to Gwa Yu’s lowered face.

“A full-grown warrior shedding tears over simple words.”

“Who is weeping?”

Gwa Yu wiped his face swiftly and raised his voice in protest.

“Kekeke! Then what is that puddle on the planks—mucus?”

Cheol Woo pointed at the teardrop on the wood, mocking him, just as the entrance swung open. Manchu, who had ventured into the village briefly, stepped inside.

“I knew it. I told you I would return shortly, and you begin the festivities without me?”

Manchu, who took his drinking quite seriously, sat down with a huff. He seized Cheol Woo’s bowl and swallowed the contents greedily.

“Mm, even if I am not bothered, he is correct, chief. Why is a person of your stature drinking like there’s no tomorrow?”

“I am irritated, that is why.”

“What has occurred?”

Detecting the tension in Manchu’s grumbling, Cheol Woo quietly refilled the cup and questioned him.

“The Heavenly Demon Cult.”

“Ah!”

Cheol Woo let out a low sound of realization.

He understood Manchu’s implication instantly.

“Is it that catastrophic?”

“Yes. It is even grimmer than I imagined.”

Unable to suppress his agitation, Manchu consumed more liquor before speaking again.

“Even after the Golden Sword Sect and the assembled warriors were slaughtered, skirmishes continue to erupt—and they are failing every encounter. Just yesterday…”

Manchu let out a sigh and took another drink.

“What happened yesterday? Was there a specific clash?”

Cheol Woo leaned in, his curiosity piqued.

“The Phoenix Sect was utterly decimated. Completely broken.”

“Pfft, and? They were bound to lose regardless.”

“The Phoenix Sect is a different matter. This wasn’t merely a loss.”

Manchu’s voice grew louder.

“The Phoenix Sect stands as a pillar of Jiangnan Murim alongside the Nangong family. A multitude of smaller factions and warriors gathered to back them. However, the Nangong, who understood the true power of the Cult, likely intended to unite their forces before a major confrontation.”

“So, they advised them to merge with the Nangong rather than engage?”

“Precisely.”

“Those fellows have too much pride for their own good. The Phoenix Sect views themselves as equals to the Nangong, yes? Ego plays a part. I wouldn’t have listened either. It’s better to provide reinforcements than to give orders.”

At Cheol Woo’s biting remark, Manchu stood up abruptly, grabbed a brush and some paper, and sketched a long oval.

“Observe. If this represents Gangseo Province, the Nangong are stationed here, and the Phoenix Sect is over there. Do you see the distance between them?”

The sketch placed them at opposite poles.

“Indeed, they are quite far apart.”

“The Nangong had already dispatched reinforcements in three directions to monitor the Cult. However, on the left wing—the Golden Sword Sect was annihilated before the help could arrive. The sects on the right wing followed instructions and retreated with few casualties. The issue lies in the center: the Phoenix Sect disregarded the warnings, remained obstinate, and fell apart entirely. Even a minor retreat could have connected them with the Nangong combatants. It wouldn’t have been such a bloodbath. Damn it, when the Nangong invokes the Azure Sword Command, you are supposed to obey without question!”

Manchu’s temper flared, mindful of the many Beggar Clan members who were allied with the Phoenix Sect.

“So they were overconfident and got crushed—by whom? If it was the center, was it the Cult Leader himself?”

Sima Geon looked down at the sketch.

“No. The Cult Leader has yet to engage—he is following at a distance from the rear. It wasn’t even the primary force. The attackers at the Phoenix Sect were led by the North Heaven Sword Demon, or someone of that rank.”

“Who… did you name?”

Cheol Woo’s mouth twisted into a snarl.

“The North Heaven Sword Demon. Though it isn’t confirmed.”

“Ha! That withered wretch! I heard he had crawled to Gwan Woong, but he’s still breathing. If he’s acting with such arrogance, he must have recovered his strength.”

Cheol Woo, harboring a deep-seated grudge against the North Heaven Sword Demon, was openly hostile.

“So now it’s that old man against the Nangong?”

“No. Those who destroyed the Golden Sword Sect have unified with them, increasing their ranks several times over. Furthermore, the main Cult contingent is trailing behind—even the Nangong are pulling back.”

Manchu let out an annoyed sigh.

“Whew. The leaders claim the Phoenix Sect’s fall has cost the Jiangnan Murim forty percent of its strength. When you add the Golden Sword Sect, half of their power has vanished in two engagements. And the Cult’s losses? Negligible. How? They were fighting with everything they had.”

Manchu’s face was etched with profound sorrow and pity.

Sima Geon placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“Following the Great Heavenly Demon War, the splintered Demon Realm suffered through vicious internal conflicts until very recently. One can’t even count the groups that were erased or born from that chaos. The Divine Demon Clan, the survivors of that carnage—and the origin of past Heavenly Demons—finally consolidated the Demon Realm into the Heavenly Demon Cult.”

Sima Geon’s tone was steady and resolute.

“The core of the Cult was forged in that fire. Can those who have only known tournaments and structured training hope to compete?”

“…”

“I do not mean to insult the people of the Golden Sword Sect or the Phoenix Sect. It is simply a matter of those who have survived the brink of death versus those who have not.”

“I see your point.”

Manchu nodded, though he couldn’t mask the growing sense of futility and anger within him.

“Do you want to hear something of real importance?”

Cheol Woo nudged Manchu in the ribs.

Manchu turned his head, and Cheol Woo gave a wide smirk.

“We were the ones who truly shone in that conflict.”

Thunderclap moved closer to Cheol Woo, nodding with an air of superiority.

Manchu stared at them for a moment, then uttered a phrase filled with a simmering rage from deep within.

“Big deal.”

Cheol Woo and Thunderclap both went still at the dismissal.

Of the two stunned men, Cheol Woo was the first to find his voice.

“Has our sweet Manchu found some bravery? Or has the shock muddled his senses?”

Thunderclap shook his head.

“It seems his liver has swollen so much it’s invisible. Shall we perform an inspection?”

“Ah, no, I only meant…”

Manchu, realizing he had overstepped, began to stammer—

Woooooo!

The cry of a predator resonated from the distance.

“Eh? What was that noise?”

Sima Ho, who had been chuckling at Manchu’s embarrassed excuses, straightened his back.

Working with livestock had made him keenly aware of mountain hunters.

“What noise? Do you not recognize the cry of a wolf?”

Thunderclap barked, and Sima Ho gave a knowing smile.

“I do. I’ve dealt with wolves stalking the ranch animals. But I’ve never heard one this close. Do they really venture this low for the village herds?”

“Yes. That’s the first howl I’ve heard since we arrived in Uga Village.”

Sima Hyeon looked out the window with a look of intrigue.

The cries intensified as they spoke.

“Haha! That creature has some lungs. It sounds a ways off, but it’s clear as a bell in here.”

Paying the wolf no mind, Cheol Woo—having already delivered a painful knock to Manchu’s forehead—laughed toward the opening.

“Indeed. Our Black Wolf possessed a legendary voice as well. A single cry from him made even the tigers tremble.”

“Hey, a wolf that intimidates tigers isn’t a normal wolf. That’s the Black Wolf—a completely different creature from the rest.”

“Black Wolf.”

Sima Geon stood up abruptly.

“What did you say…?”

Cheol Woo looked up at him, bewildered.

“Black Wolf.”

Listening with renewed focus, Cheol Woo and Thunderclap both surged to their feet.

“It is the Black Wolf.”

“Without a doubt, it is the Black Wolf.”

“Why is he in this place? How could he have known our location?”

Cheol Woo and Thunderclap traded a quick look before sprinting out the door together.