Chapter 369

Chapter 369
## Chapter 369. The Fluctuating Currents (1)

—

The Murim-maeng put forward a strategy to bypass the individual sects entirely, ensuring that rewards for those who achieved great honor would be given straight to their closest relatives.

A handful of factions pushed back, demanding, “Are you implying we cannot be trusted?” Yet, as their protests grew more intense, they only succeeded in drawing heavier skepticism upon themselves, forcing their complaints to die down abruptly.

Furthermore, to guarantee that the Alliance Leader’s Order was being strictly carried out, an assortment of sects underwent sudden audits.

The Sect Leader of the Ilhak Sect, who had spent the last several weeks lingering around the Murim-maeng, suddenly gathered his followers and bolted back to the Ilhak Sect as if fleeing gunfire.

Because of his sudden flight, the remaining relatives of Geum Tae-jong were abandoned entirely, left vulnerable like solitary duck eggs floating on the Yangtze River.

Believing it would be inappropriate to confront Geum Tae-jong’s relatives face-to-face under such conditions, I chose to dispatch intermediaries to look after them instead.

From what was reported back to me, the family had spent several weeks occupying makeshift tents inside the Murim-maeng grounds, likely just to maintain appearances for onlookers.

While silently cursing Song Ju-saeng of the Ilhak Sect for his cowardice, I arranged for them to stay at the most extravagant tavern available. After giving them a few days to recover their strength, I put them in contact with a reliable courier guild tasked with protecting them on their journey home.

Yet, somehow, upon learning that I was the anonymous benefactor orchestrating their care, they sent a message requesting a personal audience.

I had no way of anticipating what they wanted to say, but feeling an obligation to honor their wishes, I walked over to their tavern the evening before they were set to depart.

Geum Tae-seon was nowhere to be seen, likely resting in another room, leaving only a middle-aged husband and wife—clearly the parents—to welcome me.

They had traded the elaborate but ragged garments they wore previously for modest, spotless robes; their current presence was so orderly and composed that it completely erased the wretched image I had previously witnessed.

“I am Jin So-woon… a companion of Geum Tae-jong, and the person who commanded the Sahwal-dan during our time in Muk-rim.”

Despite their cleaner appearance, their underlying anxiety around a trained warrior remained fully evident.

Even though I had deliberately chosen not to bring my weapon, a subtle shadow of dread was still visible in their expressions.

“…….”

It was a deeply heartbreaking sight.

Within the Jianghu, those without power lacked even the luxury of showing their true feelings openly.

Much like the experiences of my past life, it was painfully clear that even if they held deep reservations regarding how their child perished, they lacked the freedom to safely express their rage or doubt.

I chose to lower my head in apology before they could say anything.

“Please speak whatever is on your mind without reservation. I carry the full weight of my errors.”

Hearing this, the middle-aged woman waved her hands frantically in denial and reached out to hold my shoulders.

“Oh, please do not say that. Not at all, Young Master.”

Young Master, Young Master…

If Geum Tae-jong were currently standing here, wouldn’t he have grumbled at hearing such an elevated title used for me?

Standing beside his visibly anxious wife, the father spoke up with great care.

“We did not seek an audience with you to voice grievances.”

Despite the fact that I held the exact same rank of an academy student as their late son, they treated me with an immense level of caution and formality.

“Our original intent was simply to express our appreciation to whoever was providing us aid… but upon discovering it was Young Master Jin, we knew we had to meet you face-to-face, no matter what.”

“Me?”

I tilted my head slightly, confused by the implication that my name was already familiar to them.

“Tae-jong spoke of you quite often in his letters.”

“…….”

As far as my own recollections went, Geum Tae-jong and I had shared almost no meaningful connection.

What could he possibly have told his family about me?

“Our boy struggled immensely after entering the Academy. As his mother and father, it broke our hearts to watch him endure such hardship, so we begged him to abandon it all and return to the village… but the weight of expectation on his shoulders was far too great, and he refused to give up.”

Though he had successfully gained entry into the prestigious Murim Academy, a lack of deep martial heritage or affluent backing would have made his daily survival there incredibly exhausting.

Yet, like a proverbial dragon clawing its way out of a shallow ditch, individuals who carry the hopes of an entire community rarely find it easy to cast aside such a monumental opportunity and walk away.

“However, after a certain point, his letters began to feature stories about Young Master Jin. He wrote that there was… an eccentric student. He claimed that merely observing this person gave him the strength to push through his training for just a little while longer.”

What could the Geum Tae-jong I barely knew have observed in me to draw such a conclusion?

“During his final visit home, he remarked that his time at the academy had actually become delightful. He expressed a wish that it could continue for another full year.”

What specific occurrences had brought such genuine happiness to his heart?

“We came to understand… that Young Master Jin faced terrible trials in Muk-rim. We also know that the survival of the remaining academy students is entirely due to the actions of Young Master Jin.”

“……I am deeply sorry.”

My words grew quiet, losing their strength.

Yet, the middle-aged parents merely shook their heads to dismiss my apology.

Before long, the soft, weeping voice of the mother broke the quiet room.

“From the moment our boy dedicated himself to the path of the blade… we understood that a day like this could arrive at any moment.”

Her tone reflected the quiet resignation of a parent who had accepted the brutal realities governing a martial artist’s existence.

“Regardless of the outcome, Young Master Jin fought with everything you had, did you not?”

She reached forward and clasped my hand tightly.

I could feel the rough, weathered callouses marking her palm, yet a profound warmth—more intense than any physical heat—flowed directly into me.

“We thank you.”

“…….”

It was an expression of gratitude I had absolutely never anticipated receiving.

I raised my eyes once more to gaze upon the middle-aged couple.

Despite their profound exhaustion, a gentle, subtle smile rested on their faces.

“The fact that our Tae-jong experienced genuine happiness during his final days at the academy was entirely because of Young Master Jin. Thank you truly.”

“…….”

Finding absolutely nothing appropriate to say even within the vast repository of my lifetimes, I offered nothing but a quiet nod in return.

A full year slipped away, and a fresh annual cycle commenced.

In a season where the biting winter chill refused to yield, the Murim Academy was in the midst of winding down its operations as graduation loomed ahead.

Once this specific class completed their journey, a prolonged two-year vacancy would follow before the formal academy entrance trials would once again select a new crop of trainees.

The hallways were filled with chaotic movement as students desperately scrambled to offer their respects and curry favor with influential upper-class figures.

Available officer roles within the various Martial Pavilions were highly competitive, meaning only a select few graduates could hope to secure these prestigious placements.

If a student failed to lock down an appointment before the final commencement ceremony concluded, they risked being exiled to a remote provincial outpost or assigned to the dreaded White Wolf Pavilion, a place universally shunned; consequently, panic filled the air.

As for my own situation…

“Have you completely lost your mind?! Where is your sanity?!”

Once again, my decision-making skills were being vehemently targeted.

“It is a prestigious assignment that every single graduate is desperate to claim! Furthermore, looking at it from the perspective of the Tae-eul Sect, wouldn’t it bring immense honor to have a prominent disciple representing them inside the Dragon and Phoenix Association?”

Seong Mo-ran was rapidly ticking off over a dozen distinct justifications for why I belonged in the Dragon and Phoenix Association.

“To put it simply, the operational stipends provided are equal to what an entire mid-tier Hall receives. You get to travel the length of the Jianghu, receiving elite hospitality wherever your boots touch the ground. Young Master Jin, you are absolutely obsessed with coin… ahem, I mean, you deeply appreciate wealth, do you not? I am telling you this is your chance to travel, cement your legacy across the land, and amass an absolute fortune!”

“My current wealth is perfectly adequate. As for my reputation, I believe it would be wiser not to elevate it any further at this juncture…”

“Aaargh!”

Seong Mo-ran grabbed chunks of her own hair in pure frustration.

I failed to see why she was reacting with such theatrical despair when I, the actual person affected, was the one choosing to decline it.

“Aaargh!! I always suspected your mind operated differently, but I never imagined you were this utterly unhinged!”

“…….”

Seong Mo-ran persisted in lecturing me on the grand advantages of joining the Dragon and Phoenix Association, but her words entirely failed to move me.

During my youthful first life, I used to view that organization with romanticized longing, considering the Dragon and Phoenix Association to be the absolute pinnacle of what a true ‘righteous hero’ should be.

However, having survived through two full lifetimes, I now recognized that their highly publicized endeavors were, in truth, nothing more than a structured playground for the elite.

To put it bluntly, the theatrical missions of the Dragon and Phoenix Association would offer absolutely zero strategic benefit in the cataclysmic War between Orthodox and Unorthodox factions looming on the horizon.

Additionally, if I allowed myself to be tied up with them, by the time I completed my tenure and received a permanent command, there would simply not be enough time left to properly forge and deploy an effective fighting force.

Meanwhile, a ceaseless tide of chaotic events would be breaking out within the Murim-maeng and across the wider Jianghu.

If every elite martial artist chooses to spend their days feasting, playing, and wandering aimlessly, who will remain to hold the line for justice and honor in the martial world? Is that not common sense?

“So… you are genuinely telling me you intend to throw yourself into the White Wolf Pavilion?!”

In all honesty, I found Seong Mo-ran’s dramatic outrage somewhat baffling.

“……Setting that aside, Lady Seong, do your personal marks not already guarantee you entry into the Dragon and Phoenix Association regardless? What difference does my absence make to your own future?”

“That is because if Young Master Jin is not present…”

“……If I am not present?”

Seong Mo-ran froze mid-sentence, looking as though she had suddenly blurted out something she shouldn’t have.

When she finally spoke again, her voice had dropped to a muffled whisper.

“……B-because, if you are not around… if you are not there, the whole endeavor will be completely tedious…”

As I suspected, was that her true grievance?

Sigh. I, Jin So-woon, have apparently transformed into an individual who brings entertainment to others simply by existing in their vicinity.

Nevertheless, despite Seong Mo-ran’s passionate arguments, I had no intention of wavering from my path.

“While enjoying one’s youth certainly holds merit, I have an overarching objective that commands my absolute focus.”

“……So you are telling me it must be the White Wolf Pavilion, even if it kills you?”

“Precisely.”

“No, I am begging you to use your intellect before you speak! Your academic marks and ours are exemplary. So… why! Why are you actively volunteering for the White Wolf Pavilion, a place that would happily take any bottom-tier applicant without a second thought… Why on earth… Why would you do this?!”

Cutting her own tirade short, Seong Mo-ran abruptly pivoted, planting her hands firmly onto the shoulders of Namgung Seon-hwa—who was quietly sipping her tea nearby—and began shaking her vigorously.

“If the God of Swords discovers that the treasured daughter of the Namgung Clan is voluntarily entering the White Wolf Pavilion, try to imagine the fury that will erupt!”

“…….”

I failed to see why she was taking her grievances out on me regarding Namgung Seon-hwa’s independent decision to choose the White Wolf Pavilion.

I harbored a strong urge to point out the flaw in her logic, but sensing that initiating an argument here would completely shatter any hope of a peaceful resolution, I opted to keep my mouth firmly shut.

At that moment, Namgung Seon-hwa gently lowered her porcelain cup and spoke with total composure.

“I find the arrangement perfectly acceptable. Rather than leaving him unattended and allowing some wretched bit—*cough*! I mean, allowing shameless opportunists to swarm around him, I would much prefer to simply endure a harsh lecture from my grandfather.”

Despite the serene, melodic quality of her speaking voice…

*Snap.*

The delicate teacup resting within Namgung Seon-hwa’s fingers suddenly developed a web of fractures.

“Seon-hwa…!”

“Oh dear. It seems this porcelain was far too brittle.”

……I was reasonably certain she had purchased that specific set just yesterday.

Meeting Namgung Seon-hwa’s unyielding, piercing gaze, Seong Mo-ran finally deflated, letting out a massive, defeated sigh.

“Haa… Fine. If that is how it is, then I shall submit my own paperwork for the White Wolf Pavilion as well.”

What kind of absurd domino effect was I witnessing right now?

“……For what possible reason would you do that?”

I was genuinely perplexed by her behavior.

In my case, I possessed a highly specific agenda, and utilizing the White Wolf Pavilion would make it remarkably straightforward to absorb followers from the Tae-eul Sect down the road.

However, someone of Seong Mo-ran’s or Namgung Seon-hwa’s caliber could easily command entry into any premier Martial Pavilion they desired, even if they skipped the Dragon and Phoenix Association entirely.

So why throw their careers away…

“That is exactly my point! Why on earth am I reducing myself to this?!”

“……Perhaps… for the sake of rapid career advancement?”

A palpable wave of pure, unadulterated bloodlust began radiating outward from Seong Mo-ran.

“Hahaha, it was merely a lighthearted jest. Hmmm! Could it simply be that my companionship brings you immense joy? There is no need to hide it—”

For reasons beyond my comprehension, the murderous aura in the room amplified tenfold.

“A-ah, was I mistaken?”

At this point, she was glaring directly into my soul with eyes that were noticeably bloodshot from sheer irritation.

“…….”

Despite the fact that this was my second lifetime navigating the human experience, the inner workings of a woman’s mind remained an entirely impenetrable mystery to me.

The Jaein-dang.

Operating under the jurisdiction of the Mantong-bu, the Jaein-dang functions as the bureaucratic nerve center tasked with overseeing personnel deployments across the entire Murim-maeng and its countless satellite stations throughout the Jianghu.

Many outsiders openly scoffed at the idea that a mere ‘Hall’ could effectively manage the logistics of such an overwhelming population, but the reality was that they did not micro-manage every singular position.

Once the primary leadership roles for provincial outposts and regional administrative heads were secured, those designated leaders would independently recruit subordinates that aligned with their preferences and submit the roster.

Following that, the staff at the Jaein-dang would merely verify that no glaring disciplinary infractions existed before stamping the official seals of approval.

Because the internal placement systems for the various Martial Pavilions and specialized factions within the Murim-maeng operated on this automated framework, the Jaein-dang maintained its modest administrative status as a standard ‘Hall.’

In recent weeks, their workload had spiked dramatically due to coordinating financial restitution for the casualties suffered in Muk-rim, but with that grueling task finally nearing its conclusion, the staff was eagerly anticipating a massive, well-deserved furlough once the graduation assignments for the current academy class were processed.

Because of this impending respite, the entire office was buzzing with positive energy.

However…

“Hall Master, we have a highly bizarre situation on our hands.”

“Yaaawn… what is it now?”

“……The application metrics are heavily skewed toward a singular destination.”

The Hall Master, currently in the middle of an exhaustive yawn, casually waved a dismissive hand.

“It is always the same. Even the graduates who lack any pre-arranged placements will blindly submit to top-tier units just to see if fortune favors them. Filter them out according to standard protocol and re-route them to the standard Pavilions. Discard the rest into the regional outposts.”

While the official doctrine stated that every Martial Pavilion within the Murim-maeng offered equal prestige and prestige, the reality was that the specific units martial artists actually coveted were set in stone.

Candidates routinely engaged in vicious political maneuvering behind closed doors to claim the few available slots, meaning the roster of individuals guaranteed a position was remarkably tiny.

Those who lost out in these political games would inevitably launch high-risk applications toward elite posts as a desperate gamble; since this occurred with every single graduating class, it had long ceased to be remarkable.

“Ahhh. Their egos are always bloated beyond proportion simply because they are walking out of the Academy… but those arrogant brats only find their humility once reality hits them upside the head a few times.”

The Hall Master, pulling a comfortable quilt all the way up to his chin, hoisted his boots onto the surface of his wooden desk and allowed his eyes to drift shut.

“Sir, you do not understand, it is not an elite unit…”

“If you encounter any stubborn fools who declare they will refuse any alternative assignment, simply threaten to dump them directly into the White Wolf Pavilion. They will immediately change their tune, thank you profusely, and scurry off to whatever standard branch we offer them.”

“……Hall Master, that is precisely the issue…”

“Look, I am telling you it is a non-issue. Hwaaa-am—I am taking a brief nap, so do not disturb me unless the building is on fire.”

The leader of the Jaein-dang began relaxing his muscles, fully prepared to sink into a deep slumber.

“Hall Master, look at this…”

However, the words that followed forced his eyes to snap wide open in pure shock.

“In total contrast to normal years, we have a massive deluge of elite applicants begging to be placed into the White Wolf Pavilion. Should we automatically approve them? If we do… how are we supposed to resolve the catastrophic staffing deficits threatening the remaining Pavilions?”

What kind of preposterous nonsense was this staff member spouting, sounding as if the Hall Master’s own skull had been cracked open?

“What… what gibberish are you muttering?”

“The White Wolf Pavilion does not possess a strict enrollment cap, correct?”

That was explicitly because, under normal circumstances, they could never find enough desperate souls to fill those miserable seats.

“But if we actually process these specific forms… there will be an absolute vacuum of talent across the standard Pavilions. Do you wish for us to execute the approvals regardless?”

“…….”

Why had this idiot been speaking in riddles for the past several minutes?

The Hall Master irritably kicked his blanket away and tore the parchment documents directly out of his subordinate’s hands.

“What kind of absolute lunacy…”

Predictably, just like every prior year, a massive mountain of applications sat stacked under the label of the Blue Dragon Pavilion.

And trailing beneath that were the standard requests for the Red Dragon Pavilion, the White Tiger Pavilion, and the Black Martial Pavilion…

“Hall Master, look closer at the actual text. That is not the character for the Blue Dragon Pavilion; it reads White Wolf Pavilion.”

“…….”

The Hall Master rubbed his eyelids so violently it felt as though his eyes might pop clean out of their sockets.

He blinked repeatedly, completely distrusting his own vision.

But.

“…… shreds of doubt.”

Exactly as the clerk had reported, in the precise ledger location where ‘Blue Dragon Pavilion’ traditionally dominated, the words ‘White Wolf Pavilion’ were clearly and boldly written.

“What on earth is this… Is there a second White Wolf Pavilion operating within this alliance that I am unaware of?”

“It is the exact same run-down compound located in the isolated corner of the Murim-maeng compound, sir.”

“……Namgung Seon-hwa? The Namgung Seon-hwa I am thinking of…?”

“It is indeed the premier daughter of the Namgung Clan.”

“……And Cheol Sun-jik is here too?”

“Correct, Cheol Sun of the Jukhyeon-bang…”

“I can read, you absolute moron! I was intending to ask a completely different question!”

“…… shreds of dignity.”

A profoundly uncomfortable silence descended upon the interior of the Jaein-dang office.

“Cheol Sun-jik is the designated commander of the Academy’s 12 Phoenix Stars, is he not? By all rights and logic, his trajectory should lead him directly into the Red Phoenix Pavilion. Why in the world is he requesting the White Wolf Pavilion?”

“The anomaly is far wider than that single case, sir. Moyong Jae-hwa of the Moyong Clan, Dang Gi-han of the Dang Clan, alongside Gwak Su-san and Jang Gwang-bo of the Jongnam Sect have all turned in matching requests for the White Wolf Pavilion. Furthermore, the vast majority of graduates finishing within the upper thirty percent of the Academy’s final rankings have formally requested placement within the White Wolf Pavilion.”

“…….”

The leader of the Jaein-dang sat completely frozen, looking as if he had been struck by a paralysis technique.

Thirty percent?

Not the top three percent, but an entire thirty percent of the class?

“Did some monumental event occur inside the White Wolf Pavilion without my knowledge? Did they unearth a hidden cache of rare Spirit Milk beneath the floorboards or something?”

“Our intelligence suggests absolutely nothing has changed there, sir.”

“Then why are these premier talents losing their minds and clamoring like feral beasts to be sent to a dump?”

“The reason for that is…”

The Hall Master instinctively held his breath, leaning forward in desperate anticipation of the answer.

“I have absolutely no idea.”

“You useless fool! Lead with that next time!”

No matter how many decades of administrative experience an official possesses, their brain will completely stall out when confronted with a scenario that defies all rational logic.

The emotional state of the Jaein-dang Hall Master perfectly mirrored that exact paralysis.

The absolute dread of encountering a problem with no visible solution.

At that moment, the anxious staff member chose to prod him:

“So, how do we proceed with the routing?”

Are we seriously going to dump the entire cream of the crop into the White Wolf Pavilion like some sort of joke?

And we are talking about the highest-graded martial artists of the generation, to boot?

*Gulp.*

If he dared to authorize this madness, the commanders of the other primary Martial Pavilions would immediately march down here and turn the Jaein-dang into a smoking crater while screaming about their stolen personnel.

That catastrophic outcome… had to be avoided at all costs.

“Proceed with what, you suicidal idiot?!”

“……Then what is our alternative course of action?”

“What do you mean, alternative! We do what any sensible bureaucrat does—we declare a state of absolute emergency!”

“An emergency?”

“Yes, a state of emergency!!”

The Hall Master of the Jaein-dang immediately convened an emergency strategy session, desperate to compile theories regarding what was driving this madness and how to mitigate it.

“Could a rumor have circulated suggesting that the operational conditions in the primary Martial Pavilions have suddenly deteriorated?”

“The absolute worst operational conditions in the entire alliance belong exclusively to the White Wolf Pavilion. Most candidates would happily accept a demotion to a border outpost before setting foot inside that place.”

Yet, despite their brainstorming, not a soul in the room could offer a logical explanation for the reality before them.

“If I may speak, sir… it is a known fact that the student Jin So-woon has been openly stating his intent to join the White Wolf Pavilion for a very long time.”

“……And your point is?”

“Is it not highly probable that they are simply trailing behind him? Given that the number-one ranked student and class representative is heading there, the rest might assume it is a brilliant strategic move…”

“You brainless fools…… Do you honestly believe the elite graduates of the Academy are a pack of mindless sheep? Why on earth would generational talents derail their entire careers just because one specific individual chose to throw his away in the White Wolf Pavilion?”

“…… shreds of logic.”

Following a grueling, hours-long debate, the Jaein-dang Hall Master, having completely exhausted his mental and physical fortitude, finally arrived at a definitive resolution.

“Since the situation has degraded to this level, we have only one remaining option.”

“……!”

“We pass the buck upward.”

“Are you certain that is wise, sir?”

“In the grand scheme of things…… we are not the ones who will suffer the consequences of this delay.”

Deflecting an impossible crisis that defied their pay grade and dumping it onto the shoulders of superior departments.

It was an tactical maneuver that represented the absolute pinnacle of high-level bureaucratic self-preservation.

Though the impending temper tantrums from the various affected Martial Pavilion commanders were terrifying to contemplate, the staff of the Jaein-dang—already pushed to the absolute brink of collapse from endless mandatory overtime—happily shifted accountability in accordance with their chief’s directive and sent notice of the crisis to every major combat division.

And with that…

A state of critical emergency was simultaneously declared across every single Martial Pavilion within the Murim-maeng.