Chapter 197

Chapter 197
**Chapter 197: Departure for the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly**

“Once we make it across this mountain pass, we’ll be standing right at the gates of the Baek Clan Manor, won’t we?”

Dang Gun, the young and respected leader of the illustrious Dang Clan, slowed his steps to a brief pause and lifted a hand to brush lightly across his forehead, as if wiping away the dust of the journey—or perhaps something deeper.

His younger sister, Dang Yeon, was quick to chime in, her tone laced with playful amusement as she cast him a knowing glance. “Brother, look at you—you aren’t even breaking a sweat, so whatever are you pretending to dab away?”

Dang Gun offered a slightly sheepish smile as he turned to meet her gaze, his expression softening with warmth. “Yeon, you must understand—people don’t always act out of what is plainly visible. Sometimes a simple gesture speaks to what lies beneath, to feelings and memories rather than just physical weariness. And besides… this road. It has changed so very much since the last time we walked it together.”

“What do you mean, changed?” she asked, glancing around at the familiar yet transformed landscape stretching out before them.

“Everything,” he murmured, his eyes tracing the curves of the path as it wound onward through the hills. “The surface, the way sunlight falls through the trees, the quiet sense of peace that hangs over it all—none of it matches what I remember. It feels as though we’ve stepped onto the same road in a different age.”

It was a route he had traveled dozens, perhaps hundreds of times over the years, shuttling back and forth between the Dang Clan lands and the territory of their longstanding allies, the Baek Clan. Yet today it felt utterly fresh, unburdened by the shadows of past troubles—because none of the old dangers had reappeared to plague their journey.

“You’re right about that,” Dang Yeon conceded, nodding slowly as she took in the calm around them. “We haven’t encountered a single bandit, highway robber, or wandering thief the entire way here. Not one.”

That would have been unthinkable in years gone by. In those days, the region of Gangseo had been a place where orthodox and unorthodox martial paths tangled and clashed, sharing the same ground—and if anything, the unorthodox factions had held the upper hand, their influence spreading far and wide. Robbery and ambush had been commonplace at every mountain pass; they hadn’t been large, organized armies of brigands for the most part, but rather scattered bands of mountain thieves and opportunistic raiders who infested the hills and byways, preying on travelers without fear of consequence. Now, however, the roads were quiet, the hills still. Not a single suspicious figure had emerged from the shadows to bar their way.

“There are likely several reasons for such a profound shift,” Dang Gun observed thoughtfully.

“But the most important one stands out clearly for anyone to see,” Dang Yeon finished for him, tilting her chin toward the roadside.

Both turned their eyes toward the tall, weathered signpost rising from the earth at the bend in the road—its surface smooth, its characters bold and unmistakable:

**Baek Clan Manor**
**Ascending Heaven Sword Dragon**

Only those eight characters were inscribed there, yet they carried more weight than any proclamation or royal decree.

“It is no longer a matter of debate—Gangseo belongs to the Baek Clan now, in every sense that truly matters,” Dang Gun said quietly.

Strictly speaking, there were still remote valleys and hidden corners where unorthodox groups clung to power, holding fast to old ways, yet no reasonable observer could deny the undeniable truth: the Baek Clan had risen to become the undisputed preeminent martial house of the entire region. Their reputation alone—etched into that single post for all to read—was enough to send even the boldest thieves scurrying for cover, like rats fleeing a burning building before the flames have barely begun to spread.

“And why would it be otherwise?” Dang Yeon remarked, a note of admiration in her voice. “Everyone across the realm has begun calling it the Baek Clan Manor now.”

That title was not lightly bestowed. To be recognized as a *clan manor* carried a weight that went far beyond local prestige; it demanded acknowledgment not just from within Gangseo’s borders, but from every corner of the known world. Three years had passed since the first stirrings of their ascent, and now people spoke of the Baek Clan Manor just as often as they used its formal name, the Open Heaven Baek Clan—proof of how thoroughly their standing had taken root in the public consciousness.

“Surely Yang-hui’s personal renown has had much to do with this as well,” Dang Gun suggested.

“Undoubtedly,” his sister agreed readily. “I have heard the title *Ascending Heaven Sword Dragon* spoken in hushed, fearful tones across the region, and it grows more formidable with each passing day—especially among the unorthodox and those who walk the darker paths. Word spreads that in the past year alone, he has faced and defeated more than a hundred such foes, each one more desperate than the last, yet none have succeeded in standing against him.”

“You speak truly,” Dang Gun acknowledged. “The change is striking. In every inn we stopped at, in every village market where we paused to rest, we heard his name mentioned—spoken with reverence, with awe, sometimes with fear, but always with respect.”

“He is without question the most celebrated martial artist in all of Gangseo at this moment,” she said.

“Yet it remains, for now, a reputation confined largely to this region,” Dang Gun cautioned gently.

“That does not make it any less impressive,” Dang Yeon insisted, her tone firm.

“I do not disagree,” he replied. “Still, the dragons and phoenixes of the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Clans—those born to the highest circles of the martial world—would likely dismiss such a title out of hand.”

In the wider martial realm, honorifics ending in *dragon* or *phoenix* were reserved exclusively for the most gifted rising stars of the younger generation, those marked for greatness by birthright or extraordinary early achievement. Dang Gun and Dang Yeon themselves had recently earned such titles—Silver Venom Dragon and Heaven Venom Phoenix—yet they knew full well that true, universal acceptance required a reputation that echoed across the entire realm, not just within a single province, and undeniable proof of one’s strength on a national stage.

“Some rising talent from a border clan, bearing a title like that?” Dang Yeon shook her head, already seeing the picture clearly. “The heirs of the great sects will take it as an insult. They will seek him out, challenge him, try to cut him down before he can rise higher. And knowing Yang-hui… he will not hold back. He will meet them blow for blow, and I can scarcely wait to see it.”

“Hmm.” Dang Gun let out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck as if a dull ache had already settled there. “I cannot argue with you—though the thought alone is enough to make my head throb.”

From the very moment they had crossed into Gangseo, the name *Ascending Heaven Sword Dragon* had surrounded them, repeated endlessly by every traveler, innkeeper, and passerby. Before that, as they traveled through the neighboring region of Hubuk, the name had barely been spoken at all. To the privileged heirs of the great central sects, Yang-hui must appear little more than a frog dwelling at the bottom of a well, croaking loudly while imagining he knows the full breadth of the sky.

“Perhaps it is simply that he has chosen to focus entirely on bringing order and security to Gangseo, rather than traveling outward to seek fame in the wider martial world,” Dang Gun offered.

“Yang-hui was never one to waste time offering long explanations of his choices,” Dang Yeon pointed out.

“True. He will likely do things his own way—speak first, provoke them with that quick, sharp tongue of his, and give them every reason to come looking for a fight,” Dang Gun mused.

His skill with words was no mere gift for polite conversation; it was a finely honed weapon, capable of cutting deeper than a drawn blade. And to those pampered, sheltered heirs who had never known hardship or opposition, even a few well-chosen words could feel like a mortal wound.

“And when they storm forward to challenge him to a duel, certain of their own superiority… he will crush them completely,” Dang Yeon said, her eyes brightening at the prospect.

“The outcome was never in doubt,” her brother agreed.

She giggled softly, then suddenly leaned forward with a new thought. “Speaking of which—isn’t Yang-hui keeping something else hidden? The fact that he is Disciple Sound Demon’s direct apprentice?”

“It certainly appears so,” Dang Gun replied thoughtfully. “When Xueha of the Zhuge Clan was publicly named as Disciple Sound Demon’s disciple, the news swept across the realm like wildfire—yet here, where Yang-hui’s name is on everyone’s lips, that detail remains entirely unmentioned. He is clearly keeping it secret for a reason.”

“Which means he is already preparing for exactly what we discussed,” she observed. “If word got out, challengers would think twice before approaching him. Many would simply vanish.”

“He cannot be concealing such a fact merely to draw more opponents into the open… can he?” Dang Gun wondered aloud.

Dang Yeon fixed him with a steady, knowing look, and he fell silent.

“…It may well be one of the reasons,” he admitted at last.

“You see it too, don’t you, Brother?”

Regardless of his motives, one thing stood beyond all question.

“When the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly convenes, the name and fame of the Ascending Heaven Sword Dragon will shake the very heavens themselves,” she declared.

“There is no doubt of that,” he confirmed.

Lost in conversation, they had barely noticed the road unfolding beneath their feet until they found themselves standing before the Baek Clan Manor. Its massive gates, hewn from solid black hardwood, were carved with intricate, graceful patterns that seemed to shift in the sunlight—an unmistakable mark of the clan’s elevated standing. The gatekeeper looked up, spotted them, and his eyes widened in genuine delight.

“Why—if it isn’t the young leaders of the Dang Clan! Welcome, welcome!”

“It has been far too long,” Dang Gun said with a warm smile. “Would you be so kind as to announce our arrival?”

“At once! Please, come in!”

They were escorted quickly through the manor grounds to the clan leader’s private chambers.

“Gun… Yeon.” Baek Mu-ryang sat behind his desk, his posture steady and dignified, his eyes deep and warm as they settled on his guests. In years past, he had addressed them formally as *Young Leader Dang* and *Lady Dang*, according them every honor due their station. Three years had softened that formality; now he spoke as though greeting the children of an old and cherished friend.

“It has indeed,” Dang Gun replied, bowing respectfully. “I hope this message finds you and the entire clan in good health and high spirits?”

“As well as can be expected,” Baek Mu-ryang said with a faint, knowing smile. “There is an old saying: a tree with many branches knows no true peace. Yet this house has but one main branch—and still, we find no shortage of storms.”

*And yet… the presence that surrounds Clan Leader Baek…* Dang Gun felt genuine admiration rise within him. Baek Mu-ryang emitted no threatening aura, no outward pressure at all, yet anyone standing in his presence could feel the profound depth of his cultivation, the weight of years of discipline and growth. It seemed almost impossible to believe that little more than a decade had passed since he had been regarded as nothing more than a capable second-tier warrior.

“Please accept my sincere congratulations on all you have achieved, Clan Leader,” Dang Gun said earnestly.

“Ah—hardly worthy of such praise, but thank you from the bottom of my heart,” Baek Mu-ryang replied humbly. They exchanged further greetings, inquired after one another’s families, and shared news from across the region before their host leaned forward slightly.

“So you have come to escort Hui to the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly.”

“We have,” Dang Gun confirmed.

Participation in the great gathering required an official invitation plaque—a fact many did not know until it was too late. It was presented as a grand assembly of all the most promising young talents across the realm, yet in truth, it was an exclusive occasion: only those bearing the official plaque would be permitted to pass through the gates.

“I personally secured and arranged the invitation plaques for both Hui and Heon-so,” Baek Mu-ryang told them.

“We are deeply grateful,” Dang Gun said, bowing again. “Having never attended ourselves, we would not have known where to begin. Might I also find Hui? I imagine he is at the training grounds?”

“He is—spending every moment he can in preparation, though whether for the Assembly or simply for the sake of improvement, I could not say,” Baek Mu-ryang replied with a twinkle in his eye. “I shall expect you both at dinner this evening.”

Leaving the chambers, the siblings made their way through the sprawling manor with quickened steps, their hearts light with anticipation. Baek Yang-hui—who had done so much to aid and protect the Dang Clan in their time of need—and Baek Heon-so, the clan’s direct heir: they had known both since childhood, and the prospect of seeing familiar faces after so long apart lifted their spirits and made every step feel lighter.

“I wonder how much Yang-hui has changed?” Dang Gun mused.

“I am more curious about Heon-so,” Dang Yeon said, grinning. “How much has that sweet, earnest little boy grown?”

“He stands well over six feet tall now, you know—and you still call him a little boy… well, perhaps in your eyes he will always seem so,” Dang Gun teased.

“Brother—are you looking for a fight?” she laughed, feigning indignation.

“Spare me, please… hm?”

As they drew closer to the training grounds, the sound of shouting and commotion grew louder—sharp, distressed cries echoing across the open space.

“AAAHH! Mercy, have mercy, big brother!”

“AAAHH! Spare me too! Or just make it quick!”

Dang Gun and Dang Yeon exchanged an amused look.

“Hahaha.”

“Ahahaha.”

“Some things never truly change,” he observed.

“So much has shifted all around us… yet here, everything remains exactly as we remember,” she agreed.

“They say people do not change their true nature, or else they cease to be themselves,” Dang Gun remarked.

On the training field, Yang-hui stood over both Baek Heon-so and Chui-dal, delivering a rigorous, relentless lesson—exactly the kind of scene they had witnessed countless times in years gone by.

“You two blockheads! Why can you not get this fundamental principle right? If you lack the natural talent, then you must make up for it with twice the effort and twice the discipline!”

“Brother Yang-hui, please! We are