Chapter 226

Chapter 226
# Chapter 226: The Beggar’s Oath

Ever since he was a penniless, orphaned beggar, Bukgung Taesang, Sub-Leader of the Blood Death Alliance, had nurtured one single, burning ambition. It was a vow he had sworn on the day the beggar king snatched away the three copper coins he had earned after an entire day of letting slum thugs use him as a punching bag.

*“I will rise to the very peak. No matter what it takes!”*

It was a goal he would pursue by any means necessary—even if it meant casting aside every last shred of his humanity.

Years rolled by, and the ragged six-year-old grew into a determined thirteen-year-old. His innate gifts and relentless drive earned him notice, and he was taken in as a disciple of an unorthodox sect so infamous it was feared even across Guizhou.

“Bukgung Taesang, this tribute is a tremendous opportunity for you as well. Do whatever you must to catch the Leader’s eye. Do you understand?”

Every few years, sects throughout Guizhou and the territories under the Blood Death Alliance’s control would offer up their disciples as tribute. To some, this practice might look like nothing more than the outright theft of promising talent; to many others, it was a golden, once-in-a-lifetime chance. At the very least, one would earn the right to serve as a warrior of the Blood Death Alliance. At best—if fortune smiled—one might draw the attention of the Alliance Leader himself: one of the legendary Heavenly Martial Ten Venerables.

“Win his notice, and do not fail. If you do, the punishment will be severe. Do not forget—we took a worthless street rat like you and taught you the martial arts for exactly this moment.”

“Yes, Sect Leader,” Bukgung Taesang replied, bowing in apparent loyalty. But his inner thoughts told a very different story.

*“One day, it will be you bowing your head and speaking politely to me. I swear it will be so.”*

He prepared for the tribute with absolute resolve, ready to give even his very life essence if that was what it took. And so, from among thousands of hopefuls, he distinguished himself enough to place within the top ten.

“You worthless lot, do not dare behave with impropriety. When you stand before a Supreme One, you have but one duty: to prostrate yourselves in reverent awe.”

The Blood Death Alliance Leader sat at the very summit of the Heavenly Martial Ten Venerables. And now, at last, Bukgung Taesang had earned the chance to stand before him. He bit down hard on his tongue to snap himself fully alert.

*“Today decides whether the dream I have cherished my whole life finally comes true.”*

He longed to climb until no one stood above him ever again. To become the Alliance Leader’s disciple, and eventually succeed to his position—that would make his ambition reality.

“There is not a single standout among this year’s top ten.”

They had been presented to the Blood Death Alliance Leader, and Bukgung Taesang was so utterly awestruck he could not bring himself to weave a single scheme. This was the being known as one of the Heavenly Martial Ten Venerables—an absolute existence who had ascended to the Heavenly Beyond Heavens.

“Is this truly the best you have to offer? Every last one of them looks frozen with fear. Not a single interesting soul among the lot.”

“Forgive our poor selection! I will atone for this failure with my life, Leader!”

“Do not speak so dramatically unless you truly intend to follow through. That particular plea has grown quite tiresome, young one.”

The Blood Death Alliance Leader waved the apology away with an air of dismissal, his expression openly bored to all who saw it. It was an unmistakable signal that the chosen ten were to be dismissed—and in that split second, Bukgung Taesang’s mind sharpened to a razor’s edge.

“Please—take me as your disciple!”

“Hmm? Hah.”

It was a scoff, sharp with derision. Bukgung Taesang forced strength into legs that trembled uncontrollably, standing firm as a child facing down a tiger.

“You will not regret this! If you accept me, I will do absolutely anything you ask!”

He spoke the words through gritted teeth. The elders standing nearby gasped in shock, yet the Blood Death Alliance Leader chuckled as if he found the display genuinely amusing.

“He is not exceptionally gifted, certainly—but he has courage. That may yet prove useful.”

And so, a humble disciple of a disreputable sect became the personal disciple of the Blood Death Alliance Leader—just one of more than a hundred such followers. But Bukgung Taesang never gave up hope. Fortune had favored him once; surely it would do so again. With that conviction, he poured every ounce of his energy into each day.

“Bukgung Taesang, I name you Sub-Leader.”

“Supreme One… I believe I must have misheard you.”

“You heard perfectly well, boy. Save your disbelief for when you stand accused of betraying an elder at a later date.”

“Y-Yes… of course.”

“The qualities I saw in you? Now is the time to put them to use.”

Along with the title of Sub-Leader, the Blood Death Alliance gave him a series of direct orders.

*“Fortune… truly has smiled on me once more!”*

A clear path toward realizing his lifelong ambition had opened before him. He had expected a treacherous, uphill journey—instead, a smooth, wide highway stretched out as far as he could see. That was why it happened: his head swam with euphoria, he lost himself in glorious visions of the future, and he failed to see the truth standing right before his eyes.

*“Of course. From the very beginning, I was nothing more than a disposable pawn. That is the ‘usefulness’ you saw in me, Supreme One.”*

He had traveled to Wushan as instructed, provoked the Tai Chi Sword Elder as ordered, and received the punishment he now knew was inevitable. The humiliation he had suffered in full view of everyone had damaged the Blood Death Alliance’s reputation; harsh retribution from the Leader was only to be expected. As he was seized by a mixture of rage and terror, a message arrived from someone he could not identify.

*“Scarecrow! Empty boaster! All sound and no substance—you fit every description perfectly! Which means your father must be surnamed Heo. If that is not the case, tell him to change it at once!”*

He burned with fury, vowing to tear whoever had sent the message to pieces. Only today had he learned that the very man he had sworn to crush had defeated him with effortless ease.

*“Listen well—I have spared your life once already. If you receive this message, come to my quarters tonight.”*

It was an instruction he found impossible to fully comprehend—or rather, one he did not want to understand. Bukgung Taesang was no fool. From a beggar in the gutter to a favored disciple of the Blood Death Alliance Leader, he would have perished long ago had he ever let his guard down for even a moment.

*“Bukgung Taesang… oh, Bukgung Taesang. How dull you have become. Dullness is a sin worthy of death, and you knew this better than anyone.”*

He should have realized something was amiss when the Supreme One’s words did not match the Tai Chi Sword Elder’s reaction. Drunk with delight at being appointed Sub-Leader, he had chosen to ignore every warning sign.

*“He wants me to visit him? That means he has demands to make. At the very least, he has things to say and secrets he intends to share.”*

He had been humiliated by a single, decisive strike—but Bukgung Taesang still trusted his own judgment and abilities.

*“If I were truly incapable, the Supreme One would never have chosen to make use of me in the first place.”*

And yet this man had defeated him with one blow. Someone worth allying with—and perhaps even turning to his own advantage. More than that, Bukgung Taesang needed information more desperately than he ever had before. And so he went, setting aside his pride.

“Well now—so you are Sub-Leader of the Blood Death Alliance, even if you are nothing more than a scarecrow. I believe a word of thanks is in order, Sub-Leader.”

It seemed his pride would suffer far greater injury than he had anticipated.

*“This is a battle too. I may have lost in martial skill, but I will not be outmatched in words—not easily!”*

“Your manner of speech has changed,” Bukgung Taesang said, fixing the Heaven-Covering Sword Dragon with a steely gaze.

“Has it? Not at all—merely returned to how it has always been. There are many watching where we duel, but I see no reason to speak politely to scum of the unorthodox.”

*“How transparent. He is attempting to gain the upper hand through psychological warfare.”*

This was a man who would be cast out and destroyed the moment he returned to the Blood Death Alliance unless Bukgung Taesang himself intervened.

“Very well—call me a scarecrow if you must. But I am still Sub-Leader of the great Blood Death Alliance. Treat me with the respect that is my due.”

“I think not.”

Such people were inconsistent, unable to see things from any perspective other than their own. Not that he expected honor or decency from scum of the unorthodox.

“You were the one who spoke with unprovoked disrespect when first we met.”

“And you earned every word. Think back on what you said.”

“Had I demonstrated my true skill then, would you still have been so rude?”

The Sub-Leader could not deny the truth of this.

“Respect should be shown regardless of an opponent’s strength. It must be based on firm principles. Mine are simple: none is owed to scum of the unorthodox. If you disagree, make your case.”

The Sub-Leader fell silent, abandoning that line of argument and shifting to another.

“You said you had spared my life. If you wish for gratitude, give me a reason to feel it.”

“You have already guessed the truth, have you not?”

“What I have guessed and what you choose to tell me are two entirely separate matters.”

Playing games—simply testing how much he already knew.

“Mount Hua and the Blood Death Alliance are preparing to join battle in a great war between the orthodox and unorthodox paths. And you were chosen to serve as the spark that ignites it.”

The Sub-Leader’s eyes widened in genuine shock; the scale of what he was hearing had clearly taken him completely by surprise.

“Is this… is this the truth?”

“It is what I believe to be the case, yes.”

“…? You called me a braggart, yet you are the one making extraordinary claims with no proof.”

“Fool—did you imagine there would be written evidence? That the Blood Death Leader and the Tai Chi Sword Elder would exchange letters saying, ‘Let us make war together’?”

He had spoken of the two parties “planning” the conflict as partners, though the reality was undoubtedly far more complex. Even so…

*“They are working toward the same end—of that I am certain.”*

“There is one piece of evidence beyond the rumors you have surely heard?”

“…They portray you as the hero and me as the fool. It is exactly the opposite of what one would expect.”

“Strange, is it not? I will not go into every detail, but this is being done to curb the growing influence of our Baek Clan.”

“Why?”

“To unify public opinion among the orthodox sects behind a single cause. Rakbul saw through the scheme quickly enough, and the Tai Chi Sword Elder certainly did not miss it either.”

“…Ye Il-rakbul? And the Tai Chi Sword Elder as well?”

If they had learned that the Tang Clan had severed its ties, they would naturally be on their guard. His own Baek Clan was openly allied with the Tang Clan, and shared deep connections with the Zhuge Clan and Thunderclap Sound Afterimage.

“Consider this: it would look perfect if I were disgraced and Hyun-Geom were to triumph. Yet instead of honoring him, they have chosen to destroy me. There can only be hidden motives at work.”

“That is certainly true.”

“And there is more. Do you know what Mount Hua truly seeks to achieve?”

“The Supreme One said they wish to establish a new Murim Alliance.”

“Precisely. And what is the most effective way to unite all the major sects?”

“…Throughout history, internal unity has always been forged in the face of external threat. War.”

“Exactly.”

In point of fact, the Mount Hua that founded the Murim Alliance had waged war against the Blood Death Alliance under the leadership of the Tai Chi Sword Elder. Weakened by that conflict, they had then faced the devastating rampage of the Three Great Demonic Cults—the event known as the Demonic Cataclysm, the bloodiest chapter in the entire history of Murim.

*“Yet something feels wrong. The broad outline matches what I remember from my past life, but there are subtle, important differences.”*

There was no value in dwelling on it now; he would unravel the truth in due course.

“Very well. Now—about that word of thanks.”

“…Your evidence is circumstantial, but I understand your reasoning. Thank you for having the intention to save my life.”

It was not gratitude, not truly—more an acknowledgment of the circumstances. His words were vague, a partial concession offered with obvious reluctance.

*“Whatever someone from the unorthodox path thinks is of no concern to me.”*

“I have one question. This is separate from the matter of my life being saved—why have you summoned me here today?”

He gathered his thoughts before continuing.

“To begin with: I do not form alliances with those of the unorthodox path. No matter what I might gain. Never.”

The Sub-Leader’s expression hardened; he had clearly expected an offer of partnership. He would wait in vain.

“I called you here for one reason only: I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“To give you the means to protect yourself—so you are not purged when you return to the Blood Death Alliance.”

His expression shifted again, this time to a mixture of desperation and keen curiosity. He was intelligent enough to understand the gravity of his situation; he was no utter fool.

“It is simple. Listen carefully, remember every word, and report it back to that Blood Death Leader as your own discovery.”

—End of Chapter 226—