Chapter 232

Chapter 232
The Murim Alliance had held sway over the Murim for half a millennium, growing increasingly swollen with pride. The Blood Cult was well-acquainted with that vanity. This awareness was why, during the initial phase of the Sichuan Incident, they managed to land heavy, disorienting blows on the Elder Council and the Academy Students, following up with a brutal strike to their flank. However, they had failed to account for the fact that the Murim Alliance’s arrogance was built upon a foundation of genuine power. The Alliance, having been struck in the head and side, was never going to just remain passive.

With a series of sharp, resounding cracks from stretching its limbs, the Murim Alliance gripped the Blood Cult by the throat with its massive, crushing power. The tide of the conflict shifted instantly. Most of the Blood Cult’s martial artists and Spell Practitioners who had been causing chaos in Sichuan were either slaughtered by the Alliance’s blades or forced into retreat, and even their ultimate weapon, the Iron Corpse Puppet, was reduced to a puddle of toxic sludge by the Poison King. Since those early days, the Blood Cult had suffered nothing but defeat, forced back further and further. It was evident that the Blood Cult would no longer be seen rampaging through Sichuan. Yet, the war dragged on. Consequently, Maeng Ju-won, who had endured daily misery at the Murim Alliance’s Mantongbu, found himself suffering the same fate in the town of Badang, Sichuan.

“Where am I? Who am I?”

Though only the most skilled individuals had been selected for this urgent deployment, their total strength reached several thousand. Then there were the massive logistical requirements: three meals daily for everyone, the replacement of damaged armaments, and the needs of horses, support staff, and laborers. Over ten thousand people were constantly wailing about hunger and cold. Usually, when the Murim Alliance mobilized troops, they utilized local branches for procurement, but that model only functioned for small, individual detachments. Administrators accustomed only to routine branch management were fundamentally unequipped for the logistics of an unpredictable war. Even though they worked themselves to the bone, the supply chain remained broken, fueling the soldiers’ rage. Eventually, when a starving warrior grabbed an administrator by the collar and tossed him through the air, the situation reached a breaking point.

“We are all going to die at this rate…!”

The administrators, who had once viewed their positions as secure, lifelong careers, fled in the dead of night, leaving the logistical framework in total ruins. To alleviate the plight of the warriors in Sichuan, the Grand Strategist Jegal finally intervened.

“You are going to Badang.”

“…”

Am I just a puppet meant to do whatever is requested? Is my own suffering not worthy of pity? But when he opened his eyes, he was already standing in Badang. That was the chain of events that brought Maeng Ju-won to this remote place. Suppressing his frustration, he surveyed the scene. He despised three things above all: overtime caused by excessive tasks, heavier workloads due to staffing shortages, and being sent on emergency assignments. Based on those criteria, it wouldn’t have been out of place for him to submit his resignation on the spot. After pining day and night for the recruitment of new staff to lighten his burden, he had been rewarded with an even more grueling task. Instead of the “letting go” philosophy preached by the Orthodox Path, Maeng Ju-won tapped into the raw, aggressive “rage” often found in the Black Path. He became relentlessly efficient, cleaning up the mess in Sichuan without hesitation.

“Who produced this report? The supply chain is in shambles because of this paperwork! No, wait—judging by this deliberate waste of resources, it looks like a conspiracy to undermine the Murim Alliance’s strength. I am having you sent to the Execution Pavilion for interrogation!”

“Find people! What do you mean there are no people? If you cannot find them, draft them! The Murim Alliance will handle the fallout later. Whether they are Confucian Scholars or local shopkeepers, bring them here and put them to work. Filling the roster is the priority!”

“Supplies! I ordered you to prioritize the food lines! A fed warrior won’t lose his temper over trifles!”

By expertly managing the food distribution—a task no one in the Murim Alliance had successfully handled for nearly thirty years—Maeng Ju-won unwittingly proved himself the Grand Strategist’s most valuable tool.

“They said he was the premier talent of Mantongbu, the one the Grand Strategist holds in highest regard, and it seems that wasn’t just an idle rumor!”

“Indeed!”

Because of his efforts, the supply lines, which had been as blocked as the energy channels of a sedentary, indulgent martial artist, slowly began to function. After arriving in Sichuan and ensuring the warriors received three hot meals, Maeng Ju-won was about to catch his breath when he found himself sweating profusely once again.

“Has there still been no solution?”

Although he didn’t view it as his primary role, his official duty was that of a strategist. He was meant to formulate plans and offer counsel to ensure the campaign went smoothly. The problem was that even a mind as celebrated as Maeng Ju-won’s could not solve the current stalemate. After being thoroughly beaten in Sichuan, the Blood Cult had staggered back to Changdu, the border where Sichuan met Qinghai. Now that the Heavenly Eye Pavilion had confirmed their headquarters were in Qinghai, the Murim Alliance was eager to finish them off. However, these deranged individuals had surrounded their base with bizarre, lethal traps.

‘As expected of the spawn of those wretches.’

They had deployed everything from Illusion Formations that left lingering mental damage to untreatable poisons and animal-based Jiangshi created through forbidden occult arts. As a result, not even the mighty Murim Alliance could charge in blindly. To make matters worse, misfortune began to compound.

“The Black Path bastards are beginning to stir as well…!”

During the Sichuan conflict, those who had kept their heads down in fear of being caught in the crossfire were now cautiously testing the waters. The Black Path members who had skipped the Black Thought Alliance Founding Ceremony—the biggest event in their world—were gathering in clusters, and intelligence indicated they were preparing for combat. The Murim Alliance now faced the terrifying prospect of having to expose their backs to the Black Path while fighting the Blood Cult. They were stuck in a position where they could neither advance to strike the Cult nor withdraw without consequences.

“Ha…”

As Maeng Ju-won massaged his throbbing temples, a sharp voice pierced the air.

“Why has that small-minded idiot still not provided answers?”

“Th-that… the Grand Strategist is doing everything he can to track the movements of the Black Thought Alliance.”

“And when will those results be ready?!”

The speaker stood only as tall as Maeng Ju-won’s shoulders, his body as rigid as flint. Despite his advanced age, he possessed long black hair and had been hounding Maeng Ju-won since dawn. Yet, Maeng Ju-won could not talk back to this man with the same defiance he used in Mantongbu. There, he could challenge Jegal So-myeong because he knew exactly where the line was. Here in Badang, events were moving too fast to gauge this old man’s boundaries. Furthermore, Jegal So-myeong’s temper only led to bruises, but there was no such guarantee of mercy from the Poison King. Maeng Ju-won struggled to soothe Dam Ak’s impatience.

“S-so, for the moment, all intelligence is cut off…”

Beyond the failure of the Heavenly Eye Pavilion, even the Beggars’ Sect members in Shanxi Province were silent. He did not know what directives the Black Thought Alliance had issued to make the Black Path warriors in Sichuan start testing their weapons, but he couldn’t form a strategy without data.

“Hmm…”

When the Poison King’s eyes narrowed, Maeng Ju-won began to hiccup. Am I going to end up as a puddle of poison right here? Suddenly, a biting, condescending voice cut through his thoughts.

“Why was an incompetent fool like you sent here?”

“Pardon?”

Wait, that’s crossing the line, isn’t it? Hadn’t he personally unblocked the supply lines, a feat equivalent to opening one’s Three Qi Centers and achieving the pinnacle of internal cultivation? No one else in the Alliance could have done it. Incompetent? Was this elderly man’s strange manner of speaking always this brutal?

“Jin So-un.”

At the mention of that name, Maeng Ju-won fell silent.

“Why didn’t that boy come? I specifically asked for him.”

“Ah…”

For some reason, Maeng Ju-won accepted this immediately. True, if that guy were here, there would have been no need for his own presence.

“That friend is currently serving as an envoy to the Black Thought Alliance.”

“Hmm… is that so?”

“Yes. That is the situation.”

The Poison King clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“Neither you nor that narrow-minded strategist does work that pleases me.”

“I apologize.”

“You better bring me a decision quickly. Otherwise, know that we will advance within seven days and nights.”

“…Yes.”

He couldn’t bring himself to object. If they delayed any longer, supply issues would become irrelevant, and they might be forced into a retreat that would see them annihilated between the Blood Cult and the Black Path.

‘Grand Strategist…’

He could only pray that the Black Thought Alliance’s movements would be clarified and that Mantongbu would issue a directive soon.

“It is time to keep your promise.”

Blood Battle still looked as if he couldn’t stomach his defeat.

“Just one more round, for the final time…”

I firmly shook my head.

“Please honor your agreement first. We can play again after that.”

Naturally, even if we played ten, or even a hundred more games, there was no chance I would lose to Blood Battle. Go was a game of calculation and pattern recognition. What was the point of challenging someone who kept tens of thousands of classic game records indexed in his mind? Furthermore, among those records were games played by Blood Battle’s secondary persona, the Imperial Go Master “Doa.” Unless he experienced a fundamental evolution in his playstyle, he could never defeat me. Eventually, Blood Battle stepped back.

“I will see to it that you meet him tonight.”

Scanning the room, I saw looks of genuine awe on the faces of Il-myeong, Dang Seo-hui, and even the Flame Ghost Consort. Honestly, why were they so stunned by such a trivial thing? The critical part was that this was only the beginning. When night arrived, Blood Battle attempted to use a Concealment Art to slip out the door. I stared at him, bewildered.

“Why are we sneaking around?”

“You want me to walk you in to see the Alliance Leader while everyone is desperate for your head?”

Setting that aside, what if I hadn’t been capable of using a Concealment Art myself?

“That would have been your problem. Shall we play another game? If you win, I’ll let you leave through the front door.”

Truly, he was an obstinate old man who refused to accept loss.

“No need. Let’s go.”

I activated the Ghost-Breathing Step and followed him. Though he said nothing, after noticing that my presence had vanished, he looked at me as if questioning what kind of monster I was. A moment later, his voice reached me via Sound Transmission.

[What technique is that?]

[If you share the secrets of your own martial arts, Elder, I’ll tell you.]

[…]

Blood Battle glared at me for a beat before turning to lead the way. What a cunning, inquisitive old man. The Black Thought Alliance’s headquarters were under heavy guard as always, but neither of us was detected. I had assumed we were headed for the Alliance Leader’s office, but Blood Battle guided me somewhere unusual. Are we headed for a torture chamber? Finally, we reached a dead end. Blood Battle pressed a section of the wall, which slid silently away to reveal a passage.

“It’s in here.”

After navigating a long, pitch-black corridor, we reached a room illuminated by a faint light. Inside, the Black Thought Alliance Leader Cha Seok-du and Dam Ak were waiting.

“Welcome, Black Flame Dragon!”

Cha Seok-du, his face flushed, surged forward and embraced me, clapping my back with startling force. What is this? Has he been drinking? He held himself with an air of normalcy, but the sharp scent of alcohol radiated from him.

“It’s a pity we must meet in such secrecy. You are essentially a founding member of the Black Thought Alliance. I had hoped to hold a massive banquet in your honor.”

This man was saying something dangerous with a disturbingly calm expression. It would be less damaging if the Alliance had simply sent assassins to my quarters. If he publicly declared me a founding contributor, I would be permanently branded as a rising star of the Black Path. I managed to extract myself from his grip.

“Have you been well?”

“Enough of that. Between us, forget the formalities, ha ha!”

Cha Seok-du poured a cup of wine and held it out. Given that every other member of his organization wanted us dead, this was an intimidating gesture. Dang Seo-hui hadn’t accompanied me, and I hesitated. I debated the risk, then drained the cup in one motion. If I was doomed to die, poison felt like a mercy compared to the alternative. Cha Seok-du roared with laughter.

“Uha ha ha! As expected, you have more courage than most men of the Black Path. Are you truly not going to join our Alliance?”

“Not a chance.”

“What a shame. What a pity.”

Cha Seok-du refilled the cup. As I watched his hand, I steered the conversation to the main issue.

“The reason I requested this meeting…”

“I know. It concerns Ak Byeong-bi.”

His hand froze.

“I apologize, but I cannot assist with this matter.”

I held his gaze.

“The Delegation Leader claims he is innocent.”

After a long pause, Cha Seok-du stared at his wine cup, drained it, and wiped his mouth.

“Do you believe him?”

“I intend to.”

“Not that he didn’t do it, but that you *intend* to… I share that sentiment. But I am powerless.”

“Why?”

Dam Ak provided the answer.

“Because everyone is thirsty for blood.”

Dam Ak stared at me, his eyes sharp enough to cut.

“Do you believe bloodshed is necessary, Strategist Dam?”

“I believe it is unavoidable.”

Wow. Those eyes look as though he’s staring at an enemy. What exactly happened to change this man?

“Even if it means the Black Thought Alliance collapses before it can even truly establish itself?”

“We will only know that after we try.”

As the tension between us spiked, Cha Seok-du intervened.

“Enough, both of you. We didn’t meet to declare war.”

After shaking his head at Dam Ak, he turned back to me.

“What do you perceive as the main problem facing our Alliance right now?”

The issues facing them mirrored the failures of the Black Path Alliance the Sword Demon had created in my previous life. The reason for their inevitable collapse was clear.

“You lack the power to command.”

“Correct.”

It wasn’t a lack of physical strength; they had gathered almost all the martial might of the Black Path. The issue was that the central leadership lacked the authority to enforce their orders upon the entire body. Cha Seok-du offered a bitter smile.

“We lack the established hierarchy of the Murim Alliance. We’ve placed leaders from Four Emperors Peak in key positions, but if the majority decides otherwise, we have no choice but to follow.”

He stopped using the cup and began drinking directly from the bottle. The strain on his face wasn’t dampened by the alcohol. He slammed the bottle down.

“Here is what we will do. Ak Byeong-bi will be locked away in the Black Thought Alliance’s prison. He likely won’t see the light of day for a long time. In exchange, I will buy you and your friends enough time to escape.”

“Will that appease the pro-war faction?”

“It is a temporary fix. Ultimately, the Alliance will likely wage war if the majority demands it.”

Even though he held the title of Alliance Leader, he was little more than a figurehead. I leaned in.

“Are you intending to use a war to consolidate your power?”

Cha Seok-du went still, and Dam Ak’s expression flickered. Once blood was spilled, there would be internal cries for the command to seize absolute authority to manage the fallout. Power would naturally centralize. That was likely what Dam Ak was calculating. But…

“If you do that, the Murim Alliance will only harbor deeper hatred.”

If this cycle continued, it would mirror the tragedy of my past life, and I had no intention of allowing that to repeat. Seeing my firm expression, Dam Ak spoke softly.

“There is another method.”

“What is it?”

“We punish every member of the Envoy Delegation. Once they satisfy their anger, it should stabilize.”

Hell, he says such a horrific thing with such indifference. Is it because he is detached from it? Unshaken by his provocation, I shrugged.

“I would prefer to avoid such an outcome.”

“Nothing will be solved by inaction.”

“…”

He had a point. I let my guard down slightly and spoke.

“Does it not seem a bit… too perfect?”

“What does?”

“Is it not too convenient?”

Cha Seok-du tilted his head, and I continued.

“The Delegation Leader, a man with a vendetta, killed Gu Gye-ak. Doesn’t that strike you as far too obvious?”

Dam Ak’s eyes narrowed.

“What are you implying?”

Am I the only one who sees this? In the middle of the pro-war faction’s rise, their primary champion is ambushed and killed. And by the infamous Execution Pavilion Master of the Orthodox Path, no less. It felt like a scene lifted directly from a tragedy, with the context fitting a little too perfectly. It was as if everything were being stage-managed to lead to war. Moreover, Ak Byeong-bi hadn’t even attempted to hide his martial arts signatures. As someone who had lived through a generational conflict, I knew history rarely flowed with such precise narrative cohesion. Often, wars started over petty slights, or perfect plans fell apart due to minor, human mistakes. History usually provided a plausible explanation only *after* the chaos had subsided. Right now, the situation felt unnatural precisely because it was *too* natural.

“In my view, someone is deliberately orchestrating this war between the Black Thought Alliance and the Murim Alliance.”

Dam Ak seemed to grasp my point, as he flinched. He shook his head slowly.

“…There are already many in the Black Path who harbor deep grudges against the Alliance.”

“Of course. But the problem is that the narrative fits so cleanly that it feels manufactured.”

Dam Ak’s face turned stony, but I pressed on.

“If that is the case, if we are being puppeted by an unknown intent…” I drew a breath, turning to both of them. “Are we supposed to simply accept this?”

Cha Seok-du frowned, confused. Dam Ak, however, rested his chin on his hand, sinking deep into thought. They exchanged a look before Dam Ak spoke.

“Theoretically, it is a sound argument, but isn’t this just a way to deflect responsibility?”

I shook my head immediately.

“No. I am certain of it.”

“Certain? Do you possess proof?”

This was perhaps the final opportunity to prevent a catastrophic war. It was time for a decisive move.

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

Dam Ak’s gaze remained suspicious, pinning me in place.

“I will disclose that at the appropriate moment. For now, I have one request.”

“What is it?”

“Permit me to investigate this incident myself.”

Disbelief crossed their faces.

“What do you mean?”

“If I prod the right places, the person behind this incident will reveal their hand.”

Dam Ak leaned forward, seemingly grasping my intent.

“You are volunteering to be bait?”

“Yes.”

They exchanged another glance, and Cha Seok-du let out a small chuckle.

“That will be incredibly dangerous. Will you survive?”

Since I had already staked my grandfather’s honor on this path, there was no turning back.

“I will resolve this.”

The only way to survive was to drive straight into the eye of the storm.