Chapter 489

Chapter 489
## Chapter 489. Shadow of the Setting Sun (2)

—

When you engage in ceaseless, brutal combat on the front lines, slaughtering whatever appears before your eyes without sustenance, there comes a moment when your physical vessel simply ceases to function. It is a condition brought on by the utter depletion of your bodily stamina through prolonged strife, coupled with the complete erosion of your sanity from the sheer madness of it all.

Strangely, once you descend into that state, the terror of perishing vanishes. You realize that adversaries will keep swarming without end, and even if you manage to see the end of this day, you could easily be a cold corpse on the dirt by tomorrow. At such a juncture, if a companion does not pull you from the brink, your demise is absolutely guaranteed.

The individual who pulled me from the jaws of death more times than anyone else was not the other fools of the **So-jeong-dae**, but **Moyong Seol**. Time and again, she intervened, saving my life repeatedly and ensuring I kept breathing.

[*Halt! Halt! I beg you, just stop!*]

Yet, every time that salvation was granted, a bitter resentment festered within me, causing me to hurl curses and vent my fury at her. I cannot comprehend my own reasoning back then. She was someone who protected me. A person of such high standing that I shouldn’t have even presumed to draw near had dedicated herself to keeping me alive above all others, yet I directed an uncontainable rage toward her.

[*Shi-bal! You ought to have guarded the kinsmen of your ruined clan with that same devotion!*]

I have no idea what possessed me. To her, who bore the exact same psychological scars as I did after my **Tae-eul Sect** was wiped out, I spat out venomous words born of a fractured mind. I fully anticipated a violent retaliation. After all, the annihilation of the **Moyong Clan** was her ultimate, untouchable grievance. I braced myself for my head to roll or to be pierced by a single strike of her blade. In truth, I felt that dying wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

Instead, **Moyong Seol** addressed me with absolute serenity.

[***Gong-ja Jin** has simply succumbed to the ridiculousness of reality.*]

She explained that existence possesses no inherent purpose, and when you are constantly forced to view the demise of others, you eventually internalize that stark reality, growing to crave the peace of death rather than the burden of living.

[*Existence is inherently absurd. Yet, that is no justification for surrendering to death so readily. On the contrary, because it lacks reason, it becomes paramount to forge your own path and live with intent.*]

Back then, the depth of her statement eluded me. Why are the recollections of that particular day abruptly resurfacing now?

“**Jin Si-ju**.”

**Il-gak** stepped closer.

“Were you not planning to travel alongside **Sunbae Yong So-ah**?”

“For what reason would I do that?”

**Yong So-ah** had already departed.

“He mentioned there was an issue of utmost gravity, did he not?”

**Myeo-in Satae** holds the position of leader within the **Jwa-bul-hoe**, an organization that spearheads major Buddhist endeavors. Boasting nearly ten thousand followers across the land, the **Jwa-bul-hoe** served as one of the three cornerstone spiritual foundations for the disciples of Buddhist martial traditions, standing alongside the Shaolin Temple and the Emei Sect.

Thus, **Yong So-ah** dashing off like a panicked colt makes a certain amount of sense.

*‘Through this turn of events, that woman **Myeo-in Satae** has become allied with **Yong So-ah**.’*

To be sure, she is an indispensable asset to the righteous factions at this very moment. But that applies only to the present. When I first learned that **Yong So-ah** was rushing to rescue **Myeo-in Satae**, I was thoroughly disgusted. For it was that very individual who swallowed the bait of the Demonic Cult, mastered unholy techniques, transformed into the **Bloody Demon Buddha of the Mara Abyss**, and subsequently slaughtered the Emei Sect.

Given that I am already pushed to my limit, why on earth should I accompany that bastard **Yong So-ah** while he engages in such a wretched task?

“Are you genuinely still displeased with **Sunbae Yong So-ah**?”

**Il-gak** inquired further, carefully assessing my demeanor.

“However, was it not a situation where **Sunbae Yong So-ah** had no alternative?”

“Whose alliance are you honoring, bald monk?”

“…Sigh, I am not taking sides, but did **Jin Si-ju** not desire to avoid death?”

“……”

I am well aware that **Song Ye-seol** did not perish because of **Yong So-ah**. Exactly as that wretched fellow claimed, had a viable option existed, he would have preserved her life. What drives me to absolute distraction is the infuriating pointlessness of **Song Ye-seol**’s demise.

For what purpose was she turned into a **Bokma-gwangin** and unleashed upon the martial world? Why did she harbor such deep affection for Hwapoong Manor despite being a **Bokma-gwangin**? Why did she allow herself to dream of a brighter tomorrow when she was merely a pawn of the Demonic Cult—a tool destined to trigger a bloodbath and be cast aside once her utility expired?

“What was the actual significance of **So-jeo Song**’s existence?”

“Pardon?”

“I am asking you what sort of purpose **So-jeo Song**’s life actually held.”

“……”

I genuinely wanted to know if there was some hidden meaning behind the life of a woman who perished after being exploited as a mere instrument by the Demonic Cult.

“Is there not some profound wisdom within the scriptures of the Buddha? Some teaching that explains the value of an existence that ends after being utilized in such a manner.”

Her futile passing continuously forces me to examine the worth of my own journey. I have stood at the precipice of death multiple times to forge a destiny distinct from my previous existence, yet when it truly mattered, I couldn’t even preserve the life of a single person like **Song Ye-seol**. I have looked upon countless casualties until now. Far more than could ever be equated to the solitary passing of **Song Ye-seol**. And I continually reassured myself that it was acceptable, that things would turn out fine. That the culmination of this current life would yield a different path—

“But it was an illusion.”

“What are you implying, **Jin Si-ju**…?”

It wasn’t merely about the loss of one individual, **Song Ye-seol**—

*‘The utter helplessness of failing to properly safeguard even a single **Song Ye-seol**.’*

The destiny that **Yong So-ah** intends to forge is steeped in bleakness. Meanwhile, the destiny I am striving to construct remains frustratingly out of reach. If the future envisioned by **Yong So-ah** unfolds precisely as it did in my prior life, then is there any authentic purpose to my endeavors? The sharp recollections of that previous existence, which proved so utterly pointless despite my living through it once before, are eroding my sanity.

[***Gong-ja Jin** has simply succumbed to the ridiculousness of reality.*]

Perhaps, just as she declared… I have been defeated by the pointlessness of it all. I might be completely drained, a state where all purpose is lost, rendering everything unappealing and stripping away the dread of dying. To make matters worse, the monk **Il-gak** was entirely unequipped to provide an answer to my inquiry.

“In the grand scheme of things, it implies that living holds no purpose.”

“……”

Right then, **Gwak Su-san** walked over.

“**Dan-ju**, you appear exhausted, so let us secure a campsite a bit sooner than usual today.”

I gave a firm shake of my head.

“If we push forward for one more *shijin*, we will reach the **Sol-hong Inn**.”

“…Is that truly required?”

“Word has it that the **Sol-hong** vintage is exceptionally potent. I intend to sample it.”

Nothing matters anyway.

The review conducted by the **Yongbong-jihoe** drew to a close. Very few organizations remained to be evaluated, and none displayed any treacherous indicators. Towards the conclusion of their journey, they repeatedly attempted to consult with **Jin So-un**, but **Jin So-un** consistently remained secluded within his quarters in a state of inebriation.

Though the final determinations regarding the review would require time to materialize, the debut undertaking of the **Yongbong-jihoe** was an undeniable triumph. They had secured real results and established a formidable reputation.

“*Aaaaah*… this is killing me.”

**Dan-mok Gyo-ryeon** let her stiffness fade as she extended her arms and legs.

“Whew… it has finally concluded.”

“Everyone performed admirably.”

“I harbored anxieties about what we would do if they persisted in dragging us across the entire Jianghu.”

The return journey of the **Yongbong-jihoe** was a course of action that had already been settled upon.

“Judging by the current climate, continuing wouldn’t have been feasible anyway.”

Now that word had spread regarding the **Yongbong-jihoe**’s investigative mandate, it was certain that executing further unscheduled inspections would only heighten the anxiety of the remaining sects.

“Setting that aside, is the rumor accurate? The one concerning the **Sword Tomb**.”

Though its origin remained a mystery, tidings of the **Sword Tomb** were throwing the entire martial world into a frenzy. The rumors were circulating with such velocity that even the exploits of the **Yongbong-jihoe** and the discovery of the gold mine were being completely overshadowed.

“Does it not strike you as entirely far-fetched? To begin with, we are talking about the final resting place of the **Sword Zenith** and the **Black King**.”

The **Sword Zenith** and the **Black King** were peerless masters of the Orthodox and Unorthodox factions who held sway over the Jianghu two centuries ago. This abrupt, bizarre rumor claiming that the remains of both legendary figures occupied a single location was causing an absolute uproar throughout the land.

“Then again, it is not entirely outside the realm of possibility, considering those two shared a bond that eclipsed even the legendary companionship of **Guan and Bao**.”

Those with a fondness for tales grew ecstatic over the whispers surrounding the **Sword Tomb**, passing the narrative from one person to the next. Furthermore, the reason this account inevitably captured everyone’s focus was due to the fact that the inheritances of both figures had failed to endure properly. Each had established powerful factions known as the **Divine Sword Palace** and the **Black King Fort**, yet within a decade of their founders’ vanishing, those martial institutions dissolved without a trace.

“Should this prove authentic, an absolute cataclysm will shake the Jianghu.”

**Dan-mok Gyo-ryeon** dismissed the thought with a shake of her head, finding it absurd.

“Are you oblivious to how many fabricated tales circulate in any given year!”

“……”

“In any case, where has our wretched **Dan-ju** vanished to this time? Is he not off instigating chaos somewhere yet again?”

**Dan-mok Gyo-ryeon** scanned the tavern’s interior meticulously, looking thoroughly perturbed.

“He departed after mentioning a renowned establishment that crafts **Oryang-ju**.”

“Unbelievable! Why does that man only show signs of life when alcohol is involved!”

**Il-gak**, who had been taking in the conversation silently, offered his perspective.

“Given that the tempest within **Jin Si-ju**’s soul has yet to settle, let us grant him a bit more time.”

“…*Ugh*.”

Despite her exasperated sigh, she refrained from further complaints. Though he frequently cut a disheveled figure, **Jin So-un** was nonetheless fulfilling his designated responsibilities effectively. Moreover, of late, his tendency to deliberately provoke altercations had noticeably diminished.

Right at that moment, an uproar erupted near the threshold, and with a deafening crash, both the entrance barrier and the guard stationed there were sent flying inward simultaneously.

*Boom!*

The ordinary patrons inside the tavern instantly leapt from their benches, scrambling toward the far corners, while the martial artists present instinctively shifted their grips to their hilts.

*Slide—*

Individuals exuding an oppressive, terrifying aura that naturally struck dread into the heart strode into the establishment.

—It is **Jamhyang-cheon-ong** accompanied by the **Unae-ogwang**!

The companions of the **Yongbong-jihoe** identified them in a single heartbeat. They were notorious figures whose likenesses and bounties were prominently displayed by the Murim Alliance due to their immense danger. The members of the **Yongbong-jihoe**, recognizing the threat instantly, traded urgent glances. They found themselves locked in debate over how to respond.

**Jamhyang-cheon-ong** slowly directed his gaze toward the gathering of the **Yongbong-jihoe**.

“Observing your assembly and the distinct hallmarks of your training, you must be the newly formed **Sa-gye-jihoe** (Four Seasons Association).”

**Jamhyang-cheon-ong** deliberately referred to the **Yongbong-jihoe** as the **Sa-gye-jihoe**, his tone dripping with condescension.

“Do not attempt it. If you foolishly step forward driven by a desire for glory, you will find yourselves resting in coffins before ever tasting the fruits of your promising futures.”

The **Unae-ogwang** alone were renowned combatants within the underworld circles of the **Huk-do**. Their master, **Jamhyang-cheon-ong**, operated at a tier of martial prowess that the **Yongbong-jihoe** simply could not hope to contest.

—What is our course of action?

—Let us observe the situation for the time being.

If the conflict remained restricted to martial artists, it might unfold in a manner where they resolved the matter among themselves. **Jamhyang-cheon-ong**, averting his eyes from the **Yongbong-jihoe**, thoroughly surveyed the tavern’s interior. Shortly after, his eyes locked onto the corner where the ordinary townsfolk had gathered.

“There you are, you elusive rodent.”

The moment **Jamhyang-cheon-ong** took a step toward the cluster of civilians, the expressions of the **Yongbong-jihoe** members turned incredibly tense.

—Should we not intervene to halt this?

Before they could even reach a consensus, **Il-gak** shifted his position to obstruct **Jamhyang-cheon-ong**’s path.

—Blast it, why does everyone keep acting without consulting the rest of us!

Coinciding with **Dan-mok Gyo-ryeon**’s irritated exclamation, the rest of the **Yongbong-jihoe** fell into formation right alongside **Il-gak**.

“Amitabha. How can a master of the martial paths seek to terrorize the defenseless?”

“Monk, you are a long way from the Shaolin Temple.”

“I am fully aware. Nonetheless, a servant of the Buddha cannot simply look away from wickedness.”

“Are you aware that I personally put out an eye of a monk named **Hye-jin**?”

“I am entirely familiar with that account.”

**Jamhyang-cheon-ong** studied **Il-gak**, who remained completely unmoved by the veiled threat, finding his composure rather intriguing.

“Has someone of your tender years already mastered the state of ‘Immobility’? It robs me of the pleasure of baiting you.”

“…Amitabha.”

Naturally, this was a compliment uttered only because he remained oblivious to the relentless verbal hazing and rigorous training **Il-gak** had endured under **Jin So-un**’s biting mockery up to this point.

“Because you are a compelling youth, I shall enlighten you. That individual lurking among the common folk—that creature is no ordinary civilian, but one well-versed in the martial arts.”

As **Jamhyang-cheon-ong** gestured toward the figure concealing his face beneath a wide bamboo hat, the surrounding crowd parted to either side, exposing the man completely. Beholding him, **Jamhyang-cheon-ong** twisted his lips into a chilling smirk.

“Furthermore, he made off with an item of immense value to me.”

“…Might we inquire as to the nature of this valuable item you speak of?”

“It is an heirloom that has been preserved within my lineage across multiple generations.”

Upon hearing **Jamhyang-cheon-ong**’s claim, the individual clad in the bamboo hat took a sharp step forward, bursting with indignation.

“**Cheon-ong**! Have you no sense of decency? How can you shamelessly fabricate a lie, claiming that a piece belonging to someone else is your own ancestral heirloom!”

“*Kek-kek-kek*, do you truly believe the **Yongbong-jihoe** will serve as your personal shield? These youngsters have zero intention of laying down their lives on your behalf.”

“Be silent! The Murim Alliance stands as the guardian of righteousness within the Jianghu! It shields! It executes! It imparts honor! It validates! And existing in perfect harmony with the universe, it could never bear witness to foul play and remain passive!”

Every single companion within the **Yongbong-jihoe** found themselves staring at the individual in the bamboo hat simultaneously, caught entirely off guard.

“……”
“……”
“……”

They swiftly began exchanging frantic sound transmissions.

—Does it not feel as though we have somehow stumbled into a deceptive trap?

—A scoundrel who once swindled me exuded that exact same aura.

The reason for their hesitation was the undeniable, pungent scent of a con artist emanating from the hidden figure.

—It appears that individual belongs to the **Huk-do** underworld as well… would it not be wiser to disengage?

—**Il-gak**, what is your assessment?

**Il-gak**, after narrowing his eyes at the bamboo-hatted man, directed a question toward him.

“Might I learn the nature of this prized possession you hold, **Si-ju**?”

“Master! I am a victim of slander. This is merely a curio I purchased from a common relic merchant.”

“Understood. If that is the case, if you would simply reveal what the item is…”

“I provide for an aging mother, an ailing spouse, and three young ones who are perishing from hunger. I implore you, do not withdraw the benevolence of the noble and merciful Shaolin Temple from my plight.”

“……”

This ba—no, this absolute clone of **Jin So-un**, no, what manner of **Si-ju** is this? **Il-gak** slowly dropped his extended arm.

“It appears this scenario does not warrant our intervention.”

The moment **Il-gak** voiced his conclusion, **Jamhyang-cheon-ong** dismissively signaled with his hand.

“Did I not instruct you from the start? Step clear immediately. I cannot predict when that slippery rat will attempt to bolt.”

“Master! **Dae-hyeop**! **So-jeo**! I beg of you, do not forsake me.”

The individual beneath the bamboo hat wailed with utter desperation.

“Was it not the foundational purpose of the Murim Alliance to uphold the principles of the martial world, preserve tranquility, instill law, and offer aid to the helpless? I implore you, do not turn your backs on me!”

In a bizarre sense, the man possessed a remarkable tenacity. To think he would press on with his grand speeches rather than bracing for an inevitable clash given the circumstances. Regardless, the members of the **Yongbong-jihoe** breathed a sigh of relief, believing the crisis had resolved itself safely.

“Preach it!! Your words are remarkably accurate.”

…That was until the overwhelming aroma of highly concentrated spirits permeated the tavern.

“The Murim Alliance is precisely that sort of noble institution.”

From the direction where **Jamhyang-cheon-ong** abruptly snapped his gaze.

“*Hic*—”

**Jin So-un**, clutching an earthen liquor container in one hand, stood framed in the space, swaying unsteadily.

“The honorable and courageous Murim Alliance shows absolutely no leniency to corrupt scoundrels of the **Huk-do**. *Hic*.”

Beholding that disastrous spectacle, every single member of the **Yongbong-jihoe** buried their faces in their hands.