Chapter 500

Chapter 500
## Chapter 500. The Beginning of the Night (5)

—

*Screech—*

The piercing cry of the **Cheol-eung** (Iron Hawk) sliced through the air above our transport. Reaching into the folds of my tunic, I pulled out a dark wooden token and hoisted it high above my skull. Spotting the signal, the **Cheol-eung**, which had been drifting like a dark speck in the distance, shifted its course and plummeted downward in a sharp, sweeping descent.

“W-woah!”

A nearby driver, who had been gaping mindlessly at the sky, recoiled in alarm and ducked his head. In that exact instant, the **Cheol-eung** flared its great wings to bleed off its momentum, touched down lightly upon my shoulder, and extended a leg bound with a small parchment capsule.

“Good creature.”

I tossed it three strips of dried meat, which it snapped up all at once. It then hopped over to the edge of the carriage canopy and began gulping down the treats. Diverting my eyes from the avian, I unrolled and scanned the written message.

“*Sigh*, looks like I didn’t make it in time…”

The contents were far from encouraging.

“Is something weighing on your mind?”

I shifted my gaze to find **Dang Seo-hee**, who had stealthily scaled the vehicle’s roof. She was crouching low, attempting to pilfer the **Cheol-eung**’s dried meat, locked in a silent standoff with the territorial bird.

“**Sunbae Dang**, keep your hands off the **Cheol-eung**’s rations.”

“…I was merely messing around.”

**Dang Seo-hee** cast a lingering, disappointed look at the **Cheol-eung** before shuffling over to sit down beside me.

“What is causing that grim look?”

“Word is that the scouting party from the Moyong Clan has already breached the inner chambers of the Sword Tomb.”

I had utilized the networks of the **Hao-mun** (Lower Gate) to transmit intelligence with the utmost urgency, hoping to deter their entry or at least stall their advance. Yet, irrespective of our haste, the massive expanse separating Hubei from Gansu was simply too vast to overcome.

“*Hmm*…”

**Dang Seo-hee** tilted her head to the side, nibbling on a piece of dried meat I had passed her earlier.

“From what I gather, it isn’t just the Moyong Clan. Representatives from the rest of the **O-dae-se-ga** (Five Great Clans) and the **Gu-pa-il-bang** (Nine Sects and One Gang) have also crossed the threshold.”

Having finished her snack in the blink of an eye, **Dang Seo-hee** extended an open palm toward me once more as she spoke.

“Why are you so apprehensive?”

I reasoned that the moment had arrived to disclose the grim reality regarding the Sword Tomb. It was foolish for us to venture into that abyss guided by nothing but blind assumptions.

“The Sword Tomb is far from a mere resting place for the deceased. It is an elaborate, lethal snare designed to entrap anyone who enters.”

“……”

**Dang Seo-hee** paused her chewing, her eyes locking onto mine with a vacant stare.

“Are you implying this was deliberately engineered by someone?”

“Precisely.”

As **Dang Seo-hee**’s fingers crept toward my leather snack pouch, I sharply yanked it out of her reach.

“……?”

“Can you not see that we are discussing a matter of grave importance?”

**Dang Seo-hee** propped her chin in her hand, adopting a faux pensive expression, before suddenly lunging to swipe the pouch using a swift **Geum-na-su** (Grappling Art) maneuver. Realizing we might actually cause a commotion if this escalated, I sighed and retrieved two pieces of dried meat, placing them in her palm. Narrowing her gaze as she looked between the food and my face, **Dang Seo-hee** popped the treats into her mouth and resumed chewing contentedly.

“Is that revelation supposed to be shocking?”

“It isn’t a matter of it being shocking or not.”

Despite my serious tone, her demeanor remained entirely unbothered.

“I simply assumed that the martial artists throwing themselves into the Sword Tomb wouldn’t do so without preparing themselves for that degree of peril.”

**Dang Seo-hee** peered at me through her characteristically droopy, half-lidded eyes.

“The legacies of ancient masters have surfaced, and those relics act as a siren song for the martial world. Nobody expects a casual, harmless treasure hunt once they step through those doors.”

Was her unshakeable calm born from sheer ignorance regarding the true horrors of the Sword Tomb, or was she simply capable of weathering any storm? I got the distinct impression it was the latter. After all, one does not endure the entirety of the War of Righteousness and Demons on luck alone, and she was a survivor who had lasted until the very end of that bloody conflict in my previous existence.

“Do you possess some sort of tie to **Moyong Seol**?”

If I calculated the lifespan of my previous incarnation, my history with her ran far deeper and longer than anyone knew, but it was a history I was forbidden from uttering aloud.

“…Our paths crossed once when the **Yongbong-jihoe** paid a visit to the **Taeeul** Sect.”

“…*Huh*.”

**Dang Seo-hee**’s fingers darted outward with fluid grace once more. Noting that our evening meal was drawing near, I moved my arm to intercept her path.

*Tap, ta-ta-tap, ta-ta-ta-tap.*

“……”

Her advance successfully thwarted, **Dang Seo-hee**’s expression soured further as she glared at me through narrowed lids.

“Do you harbor feelings for **Moyong Seol**?”

“…Where on earth is that coming from?”

“Because otherwise, it makes little sense for you to be sweating this much over a person you encountered a single time.”

Within the tales I was forced to withhold, unvoiced recollections manifested themselves in my silence.

*[If that is the path you choose to walk, then continue walking it alone.]*

Those forbidden memories brought a surge of remorse so bitter it caused my chest to constrict at the mere thought. Consequently, even as my internal wounds bled, I pressed onward with the conversation, acting completely unfazed.

“I share an acquaintance with the esteemed Elder **Moyong Gang**, and **Jae-hwa** is practically a sworn brother to me, is he not?”

“…**Moyong Seol** is far from helpless, so your fretting is misplaced.”

She was indeed a martial artist of formidable caliber, someone who scarcely needed my protection. Even so, the persistent dread churning in my gut refused to quiet down.

“……?”

*Whoosh—*

A visibly displeased **Dang Seo-hee** thrust her hand out yet again, this time channeling far more internal force than her previous attempts. Realizing my rations were about to be forcefully plundered, I spoke up rapidly.

“Dinner is going to be served shortly. If you fail to finish your actual meal, I am implementing a total ban on snacks.”

**Dang Seo-hee** puffed out her cheeks in a thoroughly disgruntled pout.

“I find this incredibly annoying.”

I couldn’t quite pinpoint what exactly had drawn her ire, but the sight of her swollen cheeks resembled a hoarding squirrel so much that I reached over and gently patted her head.

A suffocating air of apprehension permeated the interior of the Sword Tomb. Disregarding the traditional boundaries separating the Unorthodox and Orthodox factions, every single individual within these stone walls was a rival vying for a limited number of prizes. It was only predictable for hostilities to mount. Fortunately, the presence of the Moyong Clan seemed to insulate them from the worst of the chaos.

Roughly half of the forces navigating the subterranean maze belonged to the Orthodox sects. Among that faction, very few possessed the audacity to view the Moyong Clan as a direct competitor. Furthermore, even when Unorthodox raiders crossed their path, they quickly suppressed their malicious intents the moment they identified the distinctive martial attire of the Moyong Clan. Yet, despite their status, the oppressive atmosphere never truly lifted.

“**So-jeo**, we have found more bodies.”

As the expedition pushed deeper into the recesses of the underground sepulcher, the density of slaughtered martial artists grew exponentially.

“Judging by their remains, they belong to the **Cheong-hwa** Sect and the **Geum-jeong** Sect.”

When the scout held out the recovered identification tokens, **Moyong Seol**’s expression turned grimly rigid.

“Did you find any signs of their personal effects?”

“No, **So-jeo**. The corpses were completely picked clean.”

Scattered around the deceased, there were no traces of the rations or waterskins they undoubtedly possessed, and even their prized blades and weapons had been entirely stripped away.

“Are there any signs of the perpetrators’ casualties?”

“None whatsoever. Only the victims remain.”

The **Cheong-hwa** Sect and the **Geum-jeong** Sect were both established entities aligned with the Orthodox faction. Had a dispute erupted between the two groups, evidence of mutual casualties should have been left behind. Yet, not a single corpse from the attacking party could be found, and the dead had been thoroughly stripped of every single possession.

“Could it be that organized plundering has already broken out?”

That hypothesis felt flawed, considering the brief window of time that had elapsed since the threshold of the Sword Tomb was unsealed.

“……”

In such an unnatural environment, no one could offer a definitive explanation for the unsettling occurrences. And the anomalies only continued to multiply.

“There is another pile of dead over here.”

This particular clearing yielded roughly ten additional casualties. The chaotic marks of a desperate struggle between Orthodox and Unorthodox combatants were written plain across the stone floor. It appeared that the Orthodox martial artists had ultimately triumphed. Yet, as she stared at the stacked corpses, a jarring inconsistency became apparent.

“Why would they abandon their own dead like this?”

“……”

Had the Orthodox faction emerged victorious, code dictated they retrieve the remains of their fallen brethren. Instead, the bodies of the righteous warriors were left rotting upon the cold earth, treated no differently than the Unorthodox dead.

“Perhaps they were forced to retreat in total disarray?”

“Did they leave behind any of their gear?”

“Nothing at all, **So-jeo**.”

“……”

They possessed ample time to systematically pillage the valuables, yet lacked the moments required to decently arrange the bodies of their comrades? An icy shiver traced its way up her spine.

*‘…I am merely letting my imagination get the better of me.’*

She gave her head a sharp shake to dispel the creeping dread and turned to address her subordinates.

“The violence within these tunnels is escalating rapidly. Should reports of a relic or manual surface, we will alter our course to bypass the conflict zones entirely.”

“Understood, **So-jeo**.”

Their objective was never to lay claim to the legendary techniques of the **Sword Zenith** or the material wealth he left behind. Their sole purpose was to locate and secure his earthly remains. While tracking the path of his legacy might provide clues to his resting place, it was not a venture worth risking the lives of her clansmen over.

*‘The masses will inevitably flock toward the promised manuals and wealth.’*

Their focus remained steadfast: recover the **Sword Zenith**’s skeleton to ensure it suffered no desecration, and then promptly exit the cavern system. Exercising extreme vigilance, the Moyong Clan advanced with even greater care than before.

*Ta-ta-ta-ta— ta-ta-ta-tap— ta-ta-ta-tap—*

As their first full day drew to a close, a dense throng of martial artists dashed past the Moyong Clan’s position in a frantic rush.

“What has caused this sudden commotion?”

“Word has spread that a genuine legacy left by the **Sword Zenith** has been unearthed!”

“Can you pinpoint the location?”

The passing Orthodox warrior graciously pointed out the specific cavern fissure where the discovery had occurred on his charting scroll.

“The vile dogs of the **Hwang-cheon** Sect are attempting to seize the **Sword Zenith**’s secret manuals and flee the tomb entirely! We must intercept those scoundrels before they escape into the night!”

Leaving no room for a reply, the warrior sprinted off into the darkness, his companions hot on his heels toward the designated cave.

“……”

“……W-what are your orders, **So-jeo**?”

The **Hwang-cheon** Sect was a rising Unorthodox faction that had recently pledged its allegiance to the sinister **Sa-huk** Alliance. Should the ultimate techniques of the **Sword Zenith**—a paragon of the Orthodox Murim—fall into such hands, it would shatter the delicate balance of power across the entire Jianghu, completely overshadowing any matters of factional pride.

Sensing the growing hesitation among her ranks, **Moyong Seol** cut through the indecision with freezing clarity.

“We will not join the fray.”

“Forgive me, **So-jeo**? But if they obtain it…”

“The subterranean layout of this tomb is restricted and rife with choke points, making it an ideal breeding ground for devastating ambushes. Getting dragged into a chaotic melee of that scale will cost us dearly in blood.”

“……”

Though her reasoning was flawless, the lingering desire to intervene kept them silent. **Moyong Seol** let out a quiet breath before reinforcing her stance.

“No matter how unparalleled the secret arts of the **Sword Zenith** may be, they do not outweigh the value of your lives in my eyes. I ask that you trust my judgment on this.”

“……”

Stirred by her words, the expressions of the gathered warriors softened, and they began nodding their assent one after another.

“We shall follow your lead. Which path do we take?”

“Based on the patterns of where the **Sword Zenith**’s artifacts have manifested thus far, our best course of action is to inspect the terminus of this central artery.”

“Understood. Allow me to clear the path ahead.”

Though they had turned their backs on a legendary prize, the scouts of the Moyong Clan pressed forward into the deep dark with renewed vitality. Two days melted away in continuous exploration until they finally arrived at their coordinates.

“A-Ah, **So-jeo**…”

A warrior materialized from a side chamber, carefully cradling a dark wooden container.

“This appears to be… an artifact belonging to the **Black King**.”

Resting inside was the foundational manual of the **Paewang-sib-i-su** (Twelve Hands of the Overlord)—one of the legendary, devastating techniques pioneered by the **Black King**, an absolute tyrant who had once ruled the Unorthodox Murim with an iron fist.

“Tell me, how proceed our designs regarding the **Taeeul** Sect?”

A man bearing a prominent scar across his cheek inquired lazily as he strolled up the winding mountain path. The subordinate keeping pace at his flank hastened to respond.

“For the time being, we have successfully purged the minor Unorthodox rabble occupying the Hefei district. Those possessed of any notable reputation are being systematically taken off the board via undetectable, slow-acting toxins.”

“*Hmm*… does that sluggish pace suit our timeline?”

“The righteous hypocrites of the Orthodox path harbor a deep-seated hatred for any talent that eclipses their own. Rife with envy as they are, the moment an outsider achieves meteoric success, they automatically paint them as an existential threat.”

“A thoroughly repulsive breed of human nature.”

The scarred figure clicked his tongue in distaste, prompting the silk-clad companion to elaborate further.

“Regardless, the strategy is yielding fruits. The number of local taverns and trading syndicates within Hefei formally petitioning the **Taeeul** Sect for martial protection has risen significantly.”

“I remain dissatisfied with the arrangement.”

“There is little cause for concern. Multiple Orthodox factions, including the Mount Mo Sect, have already begun gravitating toward the **Taeeul** Sect’s banner. The diplomatic visit conducted by the Murim Alliance Leader alongside the Chief Strategist yielded immense leverage.”

The scarred traveler gave a slow nod of acknowledgement.

“And what of our financial reserves? A rapid expansion of influence demands a corresponding mountain of silver.”

“The moment the Murim Alliance concludes its official audit of the **Hwa-pung** Manor and lifts the sanctions, an astronomical fortune will be funneled directly into the **Taeeul** Sect’s coffers.”

The scarred man’s brow furrowed abruptly at the mention of past events.

“*Tsk*, then what possessed you to break the bindings on the **Bokma-gwangin**?”

“It is said the **Ma-noe** (Demonic Brain) simply could not master his own intellectual curiosity. He sent word requesting that his deepest regrets be conveyed to the **So-ma** (Young Demon).”

“*Hmm*.”

Sensing that the temper of the individual addressed as **So-ma** remained volatile, the **Si-gun** (Corpse Lord) **Jang O-geuk** sought to steer the conversation into more favorable waters while gauging his master’s mood.

“If fortune favors us, you may very well cross paths with him during this excursion.”

“To whom are you referring?”

“None other than that particular individual, **Jin So-un**.”

“*Oh*? My sources indicated he was omitted from the primary mobilization roster.”

“The **Man-tong-bu** apparently pulled several strings behind closed doors, deploying him independently on a classified directive.”

“*Ho-oh*… is that a fact.”

A cruel, amused curve touched the **So-ma**’s lips.

“In that case, working alongside **Yong So-ah** this time around…”

*Clatter— clatter— clatter—*

Before the **So-ma** could conclude his thought, the thunderous clatter of hard hooves violently shattered the mountain silence.

*Whinny—*

Accompanied by the shrill cry of a strained beast, a thick plume of dust rolled across the trail.

“Out of the way, you worthless scum! Who gave you permission to obstruct the center of the highway?!!”

As the dust partially settled, a band of roughly fifty heavily armed riders radiating an intense aura of malice glared down at the **So-ma** and **Jang O-geuk**, their expressions dripping with lethal intent.

“Ah, my apologies. I was so engrossed in my companion’s words that I failed to notice your approach.”

“What? You failed to notice?!”

Amused by the **So-ma**’s nonchalant response, the lead horseman dismissively flicked his wrist as if he had run out of patience.

*Swish—*

A concentrated beam of piercing internal force erupted from his index finger, rocketing directly toward the center of the **So-ma**’s face.

*Boom—*

In a bizarre display, the lethal energy detonated violently a mere inch away from the **So-ma**’s skin, completely neutralized.

“Insolent dogs…”

Standing perfectly positioned,

“Do you possess even a inkling of whose presence you stand in…”

**Jang O-geuk** had already shifted forward, an outstretched arm serving as a shield. His eyes flared with a deep, crimson hue that burned far more savagely than fresh arterial spray.

“*Ha*!”

The mounted leader bared his teeth in a mocking sneer, entirely unimpressed.

“And do you pathetic fools recognize who we are?! We ride under the banner of the illustrious **Sa-huk** Alliance—”

“Your identities are irrelevant.”

“What did you say?”

The **So-ma**, cutting off the rider’s boast mid-sentence, reached down to gently lower **Jang O-geuk**’s aggressive hand as the corners of his mouth coiled into a chilling grin.

“What possible use is there in learning the name of a corpse?”

“I have never encountered such a delusional—”

The instant the words left the rider’s mouth, his skull violently detonated with a sickening *bang*.

*Squelch—*

As the headless torso tumbled from the saddle, unleashing a geyser of deep crimson, the accompanying martial artists behind him instinctively drew their blades in unison, but—

*Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.*

A rapid succession of explosions echoed through the pass as their heads burst apart one after another, giving them no opportunity to launch an attack or mount a defense.

“W-what sorcery is this…”

Completely unhinged by the impossible slaughter unfolding before them, the remaining riders frantically tugged at their reins in a desperate bid to wheel around and flee, but—

“Did you genuinely believe you could walk away alive after offering such insults to the **So-ma**?”

Without warning, **Jang O-geuk** materialized directly in their path of retreat.

“To think you dared to disrespect the exalted **So-ma**—”

He made a sweeping motion with his hand through the empty air.

*Slash— slash—*

In accordance with his shifting fingertips, the bodies of the fleeing men and their mounts were effortlessly cleaved into messy fragments. Only the faint, blood-slicked wires suspended in the air revealed the nature of the horrific instrument that had dismantled them.

“The—The **So-ma**?”

The sole surviving warrior stammered out the title of the monster before him, his trousers soaking through with urine as terror paralyzed his limbs.

*Bang.*

His head, too, disintegrated into a bloody mist as his lifeless body collapsed onto the gory trail. A heavy, absolute silence reclaimed the valley. survey the dozens of shredded remains,

“Such a waste…”

The **So-ma** murmured under his breath.

“I should have ensured their final moments were saturated with a far more exquisite terror.”

His tone carried a profound sense of disappointment, running thicker than the carpet of blood currently drenching the mountain earth.

“Forgive me, my lord. I found myself unable to contain my wrath when they directed such blasphemous words toward the **So-ma**…”

“……”

“Rest assured, master. The martial artists of the Central Plains who have ventured into the Sword Tomb shall be granted no such mercy as a peaceful demise.”

The corner of the **So-ma**’s mouth twitched upward into a faint smile as he gazed down at the deeply bowing form of **Jang O-geuk**.

“Yes. That is precisely how it must unfold.”