Chapter 241

Chapter 241
# Chapter 241
## Chapter 241 — Patricide at the Assembly

A disciple of an esteemed sect had taken his own sect leader’s life. And he had done so at the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly, where the very present and future of the orthodox martial world had gathered. *I would never have chosen such a path. Yet… I cannot deny it was the only choice that would serve.*

It had been possible—and it had been chosen—precisely because it was Nung-o, a spear thrust as swift as an arrow loosed from its bow.

*Even so, I cannot simply let this pass unexamined.*

Whether Bright Moon was truly an agent of the Illuminati Cult or not, to slay one’s master was still to slay one’s master. It was a heinous crime, reviled and forbidden alike by the righteous and the depraved.

And yet…

What, in the end, was killing one’s master? It was nothing less than betraying and disgracing the elders of one’s own sect. Plain and simple.

Which meant then…

*Have the most revered elder in all of martial society step forward and speak, and the matter resolves itself.*

A status so lofty that mere rank could not contain it. A reputation not merely formidable but legendary. A standing even greater than that of Mount Wudang, the very voice of public opinion.

Something far beyond Yang-hwi’s power to accomplish. Something that would have been fraught with peril even if the Thunderclap of Heaven’s Breach had lent its aid. But for the Tai Chi Sword Elder, it was well within reach. All the more so because he held a decisive advantage—an asset that could turn the tide entirely.

“Sword Elder, honored Master! We implore you—make the truth plain for all to see, and declare what is right and what is wrong!”

This was the price Baek Yang-hwi demanded of Won-u.

The Tai Chi Sword Elder fixed his gaze on Yang-hwi, holding it for a long, quiet moment. He had not anticipated that even the Ten Heavenly Martial Lords would allow matters to grow so tangled. His face remained impassive, yet a flicker of respect shone deep in his eyes—and with it, a trace of regret.

“Honored Master… is Young Master Baek’s claim the truth?”

“One word from you is all we ask.”

The surrounding crowd entreated the Tai Chi Sword Elder with care and reverence. They had invoked Wudang and the Elder’s name on their own authority, pressing him to render a definitive judgment whether he had intended to or not.

*Either explain this away, or put me to death as a pretender.*

“Fellow Taoists.”

His voice was low, and instantly silence fell over the assembly. The Tai Chi Sword Elder rose to his feet.

*Which path will you take now, old man?*

Every eye waited tensely upon his next words. He had committed himself fully, trusting in their unspoken agreement, yet the Elder could still withdraw and wash his hands of the whole affair.

“Long ago, in ages past, when my own master, the Three Peaks Immortal, had finished his studies and wandered the world… there arose a sect known as the Fire Worship Cult. It came from the Western Regions and sowed chaos wherever it went.”

“The Fire Worship Cult!”

“I know of it! Who does not?!”

Among the sects that hailed from the Western Regions, the Little Thunderclap Temple and the Potala Palace were widely known—but none bore a darker name than the Fire Worship Cult. True to their title, they revered fire and were seen as madmen, practicing forbidden arts at the command of their leader.

“The Day-and-Moon Illuminati Cult is a newer heretical order, forged from the remnants of the Fire Worship Cult that the Three Peaks Immortal subdued. They revere light, holding the sun and moon as its sacred founts.”

These words had come from the Tai Chi Sword Elder himself. And once spoken, they carried the weight of established truth, regardless of what had actually been fact.

“When the Illuminati Cult judged it had regained sufficient strength, it sought once more to bring ruin to the world. It would bathe all creation in its light, so its teachings promised—but its ambitions were shattered before they could truly take root.”

The Tai Chi Sword Elder turned his piercing gaze toward Nung-o.

“For the greatest swordsman of that age—the leader of the Point Spear Sect—struck down their leader, the Radiant Lord of Heaven, with a single stroke.”

The Radiant Lord of Heaven. The brilliant, blazing light of the firmament. His very title revealed the truth: the cult leader of that era had stood at the head of the sun faction within the Day-and-Moon Cult.

*In a way… it is as though the Four Suns Spear of the Point Spear struck the very sun itself.*

By now it was clear why the Elder had recounted the Illuminati Cult’s origins in such detail.

“And so the Point Spear Sect became the Illuminati’s sworn enemy—an existence they would stop at nothing to destroy.”

This was tantamount to acknowledging openly that Bright Moon and Splendid Light had acted as agents of the Illuminati Cult. A murmur of shock swept through everyone gathered there.

“Impossible… does this mean the Point Spear, one of the Nine Great Sects, was truly infiltrated by dark forces?”

“If you knew this all along, why did you stand by and do nothing?!”

Listening to the crowd’s uneasy murmurs, Yang-hwi reflected silently.

“They understand more than I expected. Which means they were well aware of the threat posed by the Three Great Demonic Cults.”

They must have understood the danger as well. Yet when the Thunderclap sought aid in tracking down the Blood Cult, their request had been turned away flatly.

“Wudang will not move until the Three Great Demonic Cults stand condemned before all the world. They must defeat villains beyond question to earn the people’s praise.”

Yes. That much was true. If one harbored great ambitions, one must pursue them with every tool the world provided. And yet…

“I still cannot walk your path, old man. Our ways may seem alike, but they differ at their very core.”

Did a noble end justify any means taken to reach it? Was sacrificing the few for the sake of the many truly the right choice? The Tai Chi Sword Elder would answer without hesitation—yes. Unquestionably.

His own father, Baek Mu-ryang, would have shaken his head.

“Heaven-Covering Hero… the House of Baek has never turned away anyone in need of shelter.”

That was why Yang-hwi had rooted out every trace of corruption he discovered. These abominations could never be treated as mere pieces on a game board.

“Nung-o… forgive me. Bound as I was to your master, the previous Best Spear of the Point Spear, I stood aside and watched. Yet I had faith. I believed that you—who have inherited his spirit—would set the Point Spear to rights.”

Nung-o bowed his head in silence.

“The Point Spear has always lived up to its trust. Fellow Taoists, great fortune has come to the orthodox martial world! A young dragon has struck down a great evil—a new hero has risen among us!”

A hero, then. The title fit well enough. A young master of transcendent skill had slain a transcendent elder, surpassing both station and ability in a single stroke.

With this, all doubt was erased. No one could now hold Nung-o accountable for the death of his master.

“And beyond that… we have publicly exposed one of the Three Great Demonic Cults—the Illuminati. Good. Now I must use the Thousand Gold Writs to secure advantages for the Tang Clan and our home…”

Even as he planned rapidly, he felt a gaze upon him.

Nang-hon was watching him. The corner of his mouth was lifted, his eyes crinkled—an expression that seemed to find the entire affair vastly entertaining.

*Young Master Baek is truly extraordinary.*

It was a feeling beyond words—like sunlight breaking through heavy cloud.

*That man…*

Yang-hwi unleashed his full spiritual perception, sweeping through every part of Nang-hon’s being. Yet he found nothing—not the faintest trace of dark energy.

*I await the day we meet in battle. I look forward to it with great anticipation.*

Nang-hon. A survivor from a past life. A wanderer said to be the disciple of some hidden master—someone the main branch of the family had long sought to recruit.

“I have already had Chudal investigate him thoroughly. There is no reason to suspect Nang-hon. And yet…”

Why could he not shake this sudden, deep unease?

—

Deep, unbroken darkness. A single voice cuts through the stillness.

“Blood Maiden.”

The woman clad in crimson pressed her forehead to the ground.

“I await your command, Supreme One.”

“The world is wide… and its depths are great.”

The words were vague, yet the Blood Maiden took them as a rebuke.

“I offer my life in penance.”

Without hesitation, she reached within herself and tore out her own heart. Blood flowed—thicker, brighter, more vivid than any ordinary blood.

“The Point Spear has always been thus. Dwelling in the lowly realm of mortals, yet ever reaching toward the heavens.”

The blood she had spilled began to flow backward, defying all natural law, as if her heart were drinking it in. Even the heart she had given returned to rest within her breast.

“I thank you for your mercy, Supreme One.”

“Why thank me? It was you, after all.”

Pleasure coursed through the Blood Maiden’s veins, making her tremble. Her lord had not willed her death. The thought filled her with overwhelming joy.

“The Illuminati Cult’s existence is now acknowledged by all. How do you expect the Radiant Lord of Heaven and the Sole Radiance Duke to respond?”

The brilliant light of the clear sky… and the single, lonely light in the void. Titles belonging to the leaders of the sun and moon factions.

“The moon will watch and wait… and the sun will descend in fury.”

“So it shall indeed.”

A note of joy entered the Blood Cult Leader’s voice.

“It is time to act. Time to bring all this to an end—and begin something new.”

The Blood Maiden crawled forward on her knees and kissed the feet of the shadowy figure before her.

“Shall I prepare the grandest stage for your enjoyment, Supreme One?”

The leader of the Blood God Cult served as the deity’s representative on earth. Yet this figure was not red, but black—as if stained dark by ages of spilled blood. Or perhaps… as if to declare that color meant nothing in absolute darkness.

“That will do. At times even I weary of watching from the sidelines. Now is the moment.”

Blackness surged—deep enough to swallow even the red of blood.

“Since it is time to step forth once more… let us play one final game before the end.”

—

Night had fallen. True Dragon Hall lived up to its name, filling every heart with excitement from the very first day. Spirits ran so high that strangers toasted one another and talked long into the hours.

“Friends! I overheard your conversation from the next table—sounded wonderful! Let me buy you all a drink!”

“Much obliged! Come, join us—raise your cups!”

“Ha! The wine tastes sweeter tonight, does it not? Or is it simply the company?”

“It is the spectacle we have all witnessed—truly magnificent!”

“Indeed! It held us spellbound from beginning to end!”

Even the favored contenders—A-du of Shaolin, or Wudang’s own Mysterious Sword—could not dim its luster. All sixty-four who had entered True Dragon Hall were acknowledged masters, drawn from tens of thousands who had sought to compete. They were the elite—less than one in ten, scarcely one in a hundred.

“How can every single one of these thirty-two matches be so thrilling?”

“Every victor has overcome a disciple of a renowned sect or a peer equal in skill—they could not be anything less.”

All agreed, however, that the most stirring tale of all belonged to the Point Spear.

“To think the Illuminati Cult had wormed its way in… truly terrifying.”

“It is. Yet today we saw the strength of the Nine Great Sects. Even as corruption gnawed at its heart, the sect has purged itself.”

And how? A disciple of transcendent ability had struck down a traitorous master. Only a most enlightened monk could hear such a tale without feeling awe stir within.

“Four Suns Dragon Nung-o! He is destined to stand above all others! Who else could have slain a transcendent master at barely thirty years of age?”

“True. Yet it is a pity his injuries have forced him to withdraw—we shall not see Nung-o claim the title of True Dragon.”

With Nung-o at the center of conversation, talk soon turned to the actions of the Heaven-Covering Sword Dragon.

“Young Master of the House of Baek… he is no ordinary man.”

“Perhaps even greater than Nung-o. He stepped forward boldly, spoke in defense of one accused of killing his master, and placed the burden of judgment upon the Tai Chi Sword Elder himself.”

“Ha! That takes courage worthy of one who would wear the dragon’s mantle!”

“Like entrusting your very life to the innkeeper of the Dragon Palace—bold indeed. But knowing the full story… it makes perfect sense.”

“And was it not the Heaven-Covering Sword Dragon who first laid the Illuminati Cult bare? They say he has fought dark forces since boyhood.”

“A paragon of chivalry. The future of the martial world looks bright indeed.”

“Even back then, he was little more than a youth—yet they say he and Nung-o swore brotherhood at but sixteen.”

“Incredible… truly admirable.”

As the men laughed and clinked cups, the door swung open. A figure entered whom everyone knew at once.

“Ah! Young Wanderer Nang-hon!”

“The only wanderer among all our entrants!”

Nang-hon smiled politely and drew near their table. Then, turning to the young man sitting among them, he spoke.

“Would you pass word that Nang-hon has come?”

“Me? To whom…?”

The youth blinked in confusion. Nang-hon answered simply.

“If you would be so kind, Pursuer Chudal.”

The youth’s aspect shifted—not merely his expression, but his very countenance. He had dropped his disguise.

“How did you know?”

Nang-hon shrugged instead of replying.

“I will give your message to my brother… though I cannot promise he will come.”

“Ah. Then you are not here for Young Master Yang-hwi?”

“Who then?”

Nang-hon smiled.

“I have come to speak with Miss Je-gal.”