Chapter 525

Chapter 525
Chapter 525. The Monster That Eats Despair (10)

—

The command was delivered instantly, followed by a ferocious volley of blades.

*‘Curse it!’*

Hustling Do-kwang-su to safety behind my back, I immediately deployed a protective wall of sword strikes. My reserves were too depleted to attempt the Extreme Strength. Even though I threw every ounce of my remaining power into that defensive screen, the incoming projectiles managed to breach it haphazardly. While I successfully shielded my vital organs and chest, my torso and limbs ended up bristling with sharp blades, leaving me resembling a porcupine.

*Gargle—*

The effort strained my limits; a sharp spasm rippled through my dantian, and a sensation akin to liquid heat rushed up my throat. It seemed the weapons piercing my flesh had disrupted my internal meridians, triggering an overwhelming wave of sickness.

“*Blergh*—”

A heavy stream of crimson blood spilled from the edge of my lips.

“READY YOUR WEAPONS!!!”

Yet, losing consciousness or falling over was a luxury I could not afford. Prompted by that piercing shout, the assailants were already hoisting their blades once more.

“Hold—Hold on!”

Ignoring the blood on my chin, I lifted an arm that was still pierced by daggers.

“We belong to the Yoseong-dang, an official branch of the Murim Alliance!!!”

“The Yoseong-dang?”

The leader scowled, pondering the claim for a brief second before locking his piercing glare back onto me.

“If your goal was to impersonate the Murim Alliance, you ought to have done your homework! No such faction exists within the Alliance!”

Bellowing his rejection, the middle-aged commander swept his arm through the air like a magistrate sealing an execution order.

“TAKE AIM!”

At his decree, a murderous chill gleamed off the tips of their throwing weapons. The officer in charge was clearly determined to see this through. As I debated whether to blitz through them using maximum velocity or simply sever the leader’s throat with a blast of sword-qi—Geum-pyo suddenly lunged ahead of me, hoisting the Vajra Shield.

“Sa-hyung!”

Considering how far away he had been, his sudden arrival was astonishing. A wave of profound warmth filled my chest…

“Why act as a human barrier? How reckless of you.”

“…It felt like the right time to deploy it…”

“Stop talking and keep low!”

Geum-pyo hunkered down behind the protection of the Vajra Shield, and I immediately ducked down right beside him.

*Clatter-clatter-clangs.*

“Did you seriously tell me to shut up?”

“…Wait, a blade is looping over toward Sa-hyung!”

Strangely, a single projectile curved high over our position and began descending straight down. Because we were anchored beneath the Vajra Shield, shifting its position was impossible. Just as I prepared to deflect the plunging weapon by tracing the trajectory of the Ascending Path from my awkward crouching stance—

*Clink—*

The blade struck an unseen obstacle and clattered harmlessly to the ground.

“What?”

Right after that, a rapid succession of metallic impacts filled the air.

*Ping-ping-pings—*

Simultaneously, the lethal blades dropped to the stone floor in droves, behaving as though they had collided with an invisible barrier.

“Are you truly audacious enough to fling concealed projectiles in the presence of the Dang Clan?”

A young woman clad in green garments stood there, her face entirely devoid of emotion. With every flick of her fingers, the flying blades remarkably lost their momentum and dropped straight down. Thanks to Dang-seo-hee making her entrance, a temporary silence descended upon the chamber.

“Hold your fire! Our group is genuinely associated with the Murim Alliance! This lady is Dang-seo-hee So-jeo, a true descendant of the prestigious Dang Clan.”

Geum-pyo shouted urgently to convince them, however—

“The members of the Dang Clan reached the Central Hall ages ago. Why on earth would they be arriving from this direction just now!”

His plea fell on deaf ears.

*‘That piece of trash…’*

Tilting my head upward slightly, I examined the eyes of the man barking out the directives. Behind his stern, uncompromising countenance, his eyes were trembling with sheer terror.

*‘He is terrified.’*

I was well-acquainted with this type of person. They cling to trivial authority throughout their existence, but when thrown into actual combat, panic strips away their intellect. A mind paralyzed by dread is incapable of looking beyond the surface, and in an effort to deflect personal accountability, it resorts solely to mandating mindless charges and bloodshed. Naturally, such a coward never risks his own skin. He merely lingers in the rear, pushing others into the jaws of doom.

Because I wanted to avoid causing a bloodbath before linking up with the forces inside the Central Hall, I had held back from using lethal force—yet it was becoming obvious that taking this man’s head was the only way to resolve the standoff.

“READY!”

The commander roared at the top of his lungs, trying to drown out his own trembling panic.

“What is the plan?”

Dang-seo-hee appeared to have reached a similar conclusion as me.

“We have to take him down.”

As I gave my answer, Dang-seo-hee offered a subtle nod of agreement.

“ATTACK!!!”

The order to unleash the volley rang out. Concurrently, Dang-seo-hee, having slid her fingers deep into her sleeves, flicked her wrists outward with the grace of a musician playing a stringed instrument.

*Thud-thud-thud-thud—*

Following her subtle motions, the combatants who had been preparing to launch their daggers dropped to the ground like harvested grain, their complexions rapidly draining of color.

“Wait, we cannot slaughter them!”

“Who said anything about killing?”

Dang-seo-hee cocked her head slightly. Was our Vice Hall Master, whose judgment was normally swayed by treats, executing a lethal technique here? Were we going to end up hunted by the orthodox factions of the Baek-do alongside the demonic cultists and Jiangshis? While anxiety gripped me, Dang-seo-hee calmly retrieved another slender needle.

“They are perfectly alive.”

Good grief.

“…For cracking jokes in the middle of a life-or-death crisis, you are barred from having dessert tonight.”

“T-That is totally unfair!”

As the opposing crowd fell into disarray, I attempted to reason with the leader once more.

“Listen to me for a second…”

“READY! Are your ears broken? I commanded you to aim!!!”

“If you would just verify who we are…”

“SHOOT! Just shoot them down!!!”

As the hysterical commander flew into a complete frenzy, his subordinates reluctantly began raising their armaments once more. Right at that critical juncture.

“Amitabha…”

Zen Master Cheon-sim stepped forward, placing himself ahead of Dang-seo-hee.

*Fwoosh—*

His monastic vestments ballooned outwards as a massive surge of internal strength radiated from his form, driving the surrounding atmosphere back and generating a remarkably balmy current of air.

“Sijus, kindly step into my shadow.”

Extending both hands outward, Zen Master Cheon-sim assumed the initial stance of the Chu-san-jang technique.

“…Wait? Could that be an elder from the Shaolin Temple?”

“Is that not Zen Master Cheon-sim himself?”

“Y-Yes, it really is him!”

Ignoring the frantic shrieks of their leader, the martial artists holding the projectiles lowered their stances one after another.

“ATTACK! I ordered you to attack!!!”

“…”

In the end, a few men grabbed their panicked officer and hauled him back. The crowd then collectively offered a respectful, palms-together salute toward Zen Master Cheon-sim.

“Please forgive us, Zen Master. We failed to realize your identity and acted with extreme disrespect.”

“Think nothing of it. It is natural to lose composure when caught up in such chaotic circumstances.”

Moved by Zen Master Cheon-sim’s magnanimous response, the crowd bowed their heads in profound admiration, prompting me to think—

‘Hah? I was the one turned into a pin-cushion, so why is this Buddhist monk getting all the apologies?’

My general irritation toward the Shaolin Temple grew a fraction deeper.

“W-We are truly sorry.”

“W-We were merely following direct commands and had no alternative…”

Several of the martial artists who had thrown the blades crept over to tender their apologies while I was tending to my injuries. I wasn’t in the mood to graciously grant forgiveness, given that the true culprit behind the unprovoked assault was their officer.

“…”

I kept my gaze fixed on him from afar, but he showed no intention of coming over to apologize. Instead, he scoffed with a disgruntled expression and walked away to a distant corner.

“Who exactly is that man?”

“His name is Ju-an-pyeong, recognized as the Sip-jeol-seo-saeng of the Jang-yu-mun. At present, he holds the position of Hall Master for the Second Hall within the Murim-dan.”

“The Murim-dan?”

Hearing this unfamiliar moniker for the very first time, even Dang-seo-hee paused her bandaging to look up in curiosity.

“It is a coalition formed by the survivors once we discovered we were cornered down here. Hall Master Ju-an-pyeong oversees security for the sector spanning the 10th cave through to the 15th cave.”

‘Ju-an-pyeong, is it…’

As I gathered more details about the ongoing situation, it became clear that our party wasn’t alone in noticing the bizarre shifts within the Sword Tomb. Countless martial artists—ranging from those who detected the odd effects of the Musim-hwan-gak-san and retreated, to those escaping the ravenous Jiangshis, and others who recognized the trap upon encountering the demonic humans—had all converged on the Central Hall during their retreat. This amassed crowd had organized themselves into structured units, establishing defensive perimeters to fend off any impending assaults from the Jiangshis and demonic humans.

“What about the crowd over there?”

Across on the eastern perimeter of the Central Hall, several hundred alternative fighters had assembled. Much like our current group, they had formed their own defensive lines within the cavern system.

“Those are the rogue elements from the Huk-do,” the martial artist spat out, clenching his jaw. “They gladly consumed the Clear Mind Spirit-Preserving Pill provided by the orthodox factions, yet they refuse to cooperate with our command structure and insist on acting entirely on their own.”

A deep-seated animosity burned in his gaze. However, my attention was pulled toward a completely different detail.

“The Clear Mind Spirit-Preserving Pill belonging to the Baek-do?”

“Indeed. Didn’t the Dang Clan identify the toxic spores clouding everyone’s minds within the Sword Tomb and synthesize a cure? Since those scoundrels preserved their lives using that medicine, it is only proper that they fall in line with the dictates of the Baek-do, wouldn’t you agree?”

“…”

In short order, the narrative had completely warped, transforming the Clear Mind Spirit-Preserving Pill into a miracle drug engineered and handed out solely by the Dang Clan.

‘Though I suppose it serves as a convenient cover.’

Had I revealed that I possessed the formula for the remedy, it would have provoked endless suspicion and interrogation. On the other hand, attributing the feat to the Dang Clan allowed everyone to rationalize it with a simple, ‘Ah, those poison masters must have figured something out.’

Just then, a figure walked toward our position. Seeing the surrounding guards step aside and bow respectfully, it was clear this newcomer held a rank comparable to Ju-an-pyeong.

“Greetings, Zen Master Cheon-sim. I am Lee-jeong-gon, a humble junior within the martial world.”

“Given your renown as the Gong-gong-sin-su, isn’t your reputation far too illustrious to refer to yourself as a mere junior?”

“In the presence of a venerable master like yourself, who would presume to boast of their accomplishments?”

They continued exchanging polite pleasantries for a few moments.

“I have come to formally invite you to take a seat among the council directors of the Murim-dan.”

“Oh… myself?”

Zen Master Cheon-sim shifted his eyes in my direction. Giving me a peculiar look, he shook his head in refusal.

“Regrettably, I cannot accept. As I am bound by the directives of my superior, I am not at liberty to act independently.”

“…Pardon? I—that is… I must have misheard you?”

Lee-jeong-gon blinked in utter bewilderment, looking like someone who couldn’t comprehend the words spoken to him.

“My statement stands. I ask for your understanding; I am unable to shift positions freely because I am presently deployed under the direct authorization of Hall Master Jin-so-un here.”

“…”

As Zen Master Cheon-sim signaled toward my form, Lee-jeong-gon’s eyes darted rapidly between the Buddhist elder and myself, completely flummoxed as to how he should interpret this bizarre dynamic.

“Alternatively… perhaps Hall Master Jin could accompany us as well? Should Hall Master Jin grant his approval, I would be glad to join the council.”

This counterproposal caught him even more off guard. Lee-jeong-gon fell silent, his jaw practically locked shut as he processed the situation.

“…Did you say Hall Master Jin?”

“Correct.”

“Will you join us then?”

Though his words were polite enough, his underlying expression screamed, ‘You have no business mingling in our affairs.’ Seeing that, I gave a firm nod.

“Very well.”

There was no way I was going to back down after receiving a look like that.

“Given how passionately you are extending this invitation, it would be terribly rude for someone of my standing to decline.”

“…I never said anything about being passionate.”

In truth, I was quite eager to uncover exactly what sort of schemes the high-ranking members of this Murim-dan were cooking up.

‘…Blast it… curse it all…’

Furthermore, I had just realized that the bulk of the Moyong Clan swordsmen who had been tracking us from the rear were nowhere to be seen.

“…Lead the way.”

I began to walk forward, my stride feeling far more oppressive than it had during our trek through the underground passages.

Following a lengthy trek toward the eastern edge of the Central Hall, we arrived at a massive circular pavilion erected deep within the ranks of hundreds of warriors.

‘What sort of lunatic drags an enormous pavilion all the way down into a cavern?’

My silent inquiry was answered the moment we stepped through the threshold. Gathered within were the prominent figures of the Jianghu, casually debating strategy while lounging on high-backed chairs of mysterious origin.

“Ah, welcome, Zen Master Cheon-sim!”

“To think you safely made it this far…!”

“Though our circumstances are bleak, encountering you here is a tremendous blessing.”

The individual possessing the least status among the seated council promptly rose to offer his place to Zen Master Cheon-sim. Naturally, no accommodations were made for my presence. In fact, not a single soul in the pavilion even glanced my way.

“Please, take a seat,” the martial artist offered.

Zen Master Cheon-sim countered with a polite Buddhist bow.

“My apologies, but as I am bound by the directives of my superior, I hold no authority to negotiate or decide matters here. It would be improper for someone in my position to take a seat at this council.”

“…???”

The assembly collectively shifted their bewildered attention toward Lee-jeong-gon, completely unable to fathom the monk’s explanation. The man gestured toward me with a rather self-conscious expression.

“Well, you see… it appears this young man, the Hall Master of the Murim Alliance’s Yoseong-dang, is the one currently directing both the Shaolin Temple delegates and the Moyong Clan survivors.”

“What did you say??”

Skeptical glares instantly converged on my form, explicitly conveying the sentiment of, ‘What nameless trash is this?’ Having initially intended only to act as a guide and tactical commander, hearing him use the phrase ‘directives’ made the arrangement sound incredibly rigid, which doubled the weight of expectation riding on my shoulders.

“Kindly sit down instead, Hall Master Jin.”

“…???”

To make matters more intense, Zen Master Cheon-sim stepped aside to offer me the spot. Though his underlying motives eluded me, I cast aside my hesitation and resolved to press forward boldly. With the spotlight thrown onto me like this, showing weakness would be an error reserved for a fool like Nam-hwa-seong. And I was certainly no Nam-hwa-seong.

“Greetings, everyone. My name is Jin-so-un, and I serve as the Hall Master for the Yoseong-dang under the Murim Alliance.”

The lips of several masters twitched subtly as they undoubtedly exchanged secret telepathic messages trying to determine what the Yoseong-dang actually was.

“Our division was recently established as a special task force operating directly beneath the Man-tong-bu, tasked with investigating the anomalous activities within the Sword Tomb.”

The moment the name of the Man-tong-bu left my mouth, the room’s reaction cleaved right down the middle. Some individuals scowled with clear annoyance but were forced to nod in acknowledgment, while others shot me venomous looks as if facing a mortal foe.

“Very well, and what exactly have you uncovered since your arrival? Surely an agent from the Man-tong-bu has something substantial to offer.”

“I suspect our findings align closely with the intelligence already gathered by the masters in this room.”

“In that case, you possess no right to sit among us.”

The speaker was Gwang-cho-ryang, renowned as the Ji-gwang-gwon-seong. As this veteran master and current leader of the Sang-gwon-mun delivered his biting assessment, a handful of council members nodded along in agreement.

“Hmm…”

Letting out a low rumble, Zen Master Cheon-sim’s expression shifted subtly, and an icy tension instantly gripped the interior of the pavilion.

“If your only purpose is to squabble over status, then I shall take my leave. I did not journey to this place to participate in factional bickering or to contest positions of authority.”

The deep, resonant voice echoed from a corner of the space. Upon hearing those words, the countenances of the assembled masters twisted into looks of profound discomfort. It was a surreal sight; individuals who had completely disregarded the presence of Zen Master Cheon-sim were now instantly backing down. This submission clearly went beyond mere martial prowess or martial arts hierarchy; this person held the keys to their survival.

The same influential voice continued, now dripping with warm familiarity.

“Besides, that young fellow shares an incredibly tight bond with my own lineage. Am I correct, Young Master Jin?”

He wasn’t entirely misrepresenting the situation. Even though I had emerged victorious in our wager, there was no denying that I had relied heavily on the assistance of the Dang Clan.

“Yes, that is fair to say.”

“If anyone present objects to our So-un taking his rightful place at this table, speak up now.”

“Ahem…”

“Cough…”

With those few words, Dang-su-je thoroughly dominated the orthodox Baek-do coalition assembled inside the pavilion.

*‘What is he playing at?’*

Strangely, while ensuring the others were looking away, he caught my eye and delivered a subtle wink, looking exactly like a child begging for approval.