ISS 55

chapter 55

Company Grows

The Four Emperors’ leader, Hyeok Segi, moved the meeting to his office and met alone with the head of the Sword Alliance, Sima Gunseong.

“So you’re saying we should eliminate the risk in advance?” Hyeok Segi asked.

“Yes, Lord Alliance Chief!” Sima Gunseong answered.

Hyeok Segi looked a little surprised at Sima Gunseong’s words.

Sima Gunseong had proposed that they might need to kill the thousand martial artists—either because Sima himself had disappeared or because they had secluded themselves for training—in order to prevent even greater sacrifice later.

“Are there not some who wouldn’t learn magic arts?” Hyeok Segi asked.

“Of course. But after weighing all the reasons, things will ultimately turn out the way the demonic faction expects,” Sima Gunseong said.

Hyeok Segi looked at him. Silence passed between them.

Then he spoke softly.

“I believe your family’s eldest son, Sima Jin, is also on that list.”

Sima Gunseong’s eyes flickered for a moment, then returned to normal.

“He’s been missing for seven years.”

Among the thousand names, some locations were known while others were not.

Sima Jin had disappeared seven years ago after saying only that he would travel across the Central Plains.

“Couldn’t we go to him first?” Sima suggested.

“Didn’t I tell you at the Council a moment ago? Even if we know, we’re bound to be led by them.” Hyeok Segi replied.

“Hmm…”

“If you can save three hundred families by killing your son, I think that should be done.”

A faint smile appeared on Hyeok Segi’s lips.

“Those kinds of words are what righteous sects say.”

“What does it matter if it’s righteous or demonic? If killing a thousand sons will save a million brothers, then of course that’s the right thing to do.”

“Won’t you regret it?”

“I’ve made my decision.”

“Very well. I grant permission to mobilize the covert units. Inform the Martial Alliance of our decision and ask that they do the same.”

“We will,” Sima Gunseong answered.

“I’m not magnanimous enough to spare someone who tried to kill me. If you were a sect leader, would you spare someone who tried to kill you?” he asked.

People may speak of tolerance with their mouths, but those truly generous enough to spare someone who attempted to kill them are rare.

Sword Spirit was no different.

Especially after living with the three of them and having been heavily affected by the Ghost Lord, Sword Spirit’s character was such that he returned harm in kind when harmed.

At Sword Spirit’s words, Song Guk-il’s sword spirit writhed; he bristled in anger.

“Who tried to kill you? Why would we want to kill you?”

Sword Spirit smiled faintly at that. The man who had contracted to have him killed at Cheonmyeong Lodge was right beside him.

Sword Spirit looked at Yoo Akgun; his expression was not good.

‘Angel’ Yoo Akgun was a hereditary title and name, and because of him the martial arts world had, knowingly or not, received much help.

If his identity were exposed, that help would stop.

Yoo Akgun, thinking it right to suffer a loss personally if it meant saving his lord Sword Spirit from danger, opened his mouth.

“My lord! I—”

Sword Spirit cut him off.

“Stay quiet. There’s no good in making it known.”

Sword Spirit turned back to Song Guk-il.

“Then do I have any reason to kill them?”

For a moment Song Guk-il was at a loss for words, then he blurted out hastily.

“Are you trying to play games with me?”

Realizing his brusqueness, he tried to hide his embarrassment.

“You said you killed our lodge’s martial artists, didn’t you?”

“That’s right. I said so because they tried to kill me first. Didn’t Master Hyuntaeryeong of the Sword Faction try to kill me as well? Was I the only one? Didn’t he even try to kill the elder here present?”

“That’s… didn’t you deceive the master?” Song Guk-il asked, unable to control his emotions while speaking with Sword Spirit.

Sword Spirit nodded.

“I see. Then they deceived me at Cheonmyeong Lodge, so I killed them. Is that enough?”

Song Guk-il’s face flushed. He thought Sword Spirit was teasing him.

Those watching could not understand why Sword Spirit was provoking Cheonmyeong Lodge.

“Sword Spirit!” Wang Seokji, who had been silent until then, stepped forward to mediate.

“Speak, sect elder,” Sword Spirit said.

“You both seem on edge. Dialogue depends on interpretation—how one thinks and reads things. The same words can convey different meanings. So calm your emotions…” Wang Seokji said, addressing Song Guk-il of Cheonmyeong Lodge as much as Sword Spirit.

“Ahem!” Song Guk-il coughed, signaling the two elder acquaintances to help him.

“Cheonmyeong Lodge is a respected righteous sect in Guangdong Province; why would they attempt to kill Sword Spirit?” Elder Cheolsong of the Hyungsan Sect stepped forward.

“A reputable sect… Do such sects raise assassins? They must have raised killers for some sinister purpose,” someone suggested.

“Killers? Preposterous.” Song Guk-il denied the existence of an assassin corps.

“I no longer want to talk with Cheonmyeong Lodge. Whether you seek my life or not is your business. However—”

When Sword Spirit stopped speaking, everyone’s attention turned to him.

The heavy aura emanating from him filled the room.

It was neither the aura of a righteous sect nor a demonic faction; it was a weight that seemed to press down a mountain.

People shrank under it.

‘This is…’ Gun Il-san, the Grand Elder of the Hyungsan Sect, remembered feeling such an aura when he was young.

The man whom the world called the greatest under heaven—the one so strong he had no rivals and called himself the Solitary Demon—whose presence was overwhelming: Gun Il-san felt again in Sword Spirit the same aura he had felt from Cheon Nam-yeon.

Sword Spirit’s presence dominated the surroundings.

Others could not even breathe freely.

“One thing is clear: I will never spare anyone who aims at my life,” he said.

‘That man…’ Seo Gun-ha, disciple of the Sword Marquis, who had previously avoided facing Sword Spirit, felt his heart beat at the sight of this confident demeanor.

“Do you have anything to say?” Sword Spirit asked Song Guk-il. He could not answer.

There are many people in the world, but to distinguish them you often only need a binary division: good or bad, useful or useless, easy targets or not to be touched.

Faced with Sword Spirit’s aura, only one thought came to Song Guk-il’s mind.

A person not to be touched.

Martial artists have, besides the five senses, an intuition. The more skilled, the keener that instinct.

Song Guk-il’s intuition repeatedly told him to steer clear of this youth who looked not yet twenty.

‘This time the lodge master offended the wrong person.’

With no answer from Song Guk-il, Sword Spirit turned to Wang Seokji.

“May I descend Hyungsan now?”

Wang Seokji looked at Song Guk-il.

Seeing the trembling in his eyes, Wang Seokji realized Song Guk-il was overwhelmed by Sword Spirit’s aura and could do nothing.

“Do so. But your matters with Cheonmyeong Lodge will be left unjudged by Hyungsan.”

Their grudge would stay between them.

Sword Spirit bowed and then looked at Gun Il-san.

“Thank you for everything. I learned much from the Grand Elder.”

“I learned more. I envy you,” Gun Il-san replied with a kindly smile.

He was pleased simply to have seen the future greatest under heaven. It pleased him all the more that the student was not of Cheon Nam-yeon but of Jeonmo Yakbing.

“Well then!” Sword Spirit bowed and turned. Yoo Akgun and Jeok Hwamyeong followed him.

Seo Gun-ha watched cautiously.

[Follow that fellow and join him. What good is beating a has-been like me?]

At Gun Il-san’s whisper, Seo Gun-ha nodded.

[He’ll be a fine rival. Just as you are the Sword Marquis’s disciple, Sword Spirit is Jeonmo’s disciple.]

Seo Gun-ha’s eyes widened at the mention of being Jeonmo’s disciple.

[Better not tell others. After watching him a few days his character resembles Jeonmo: reckless and unafraid of danger.]

Seo Gun-ha kept his lips pressed together, looking at Gun Il-san, then nodded.

“I should also descend Hyungsan. Then…” he said, deciding to forgo sparring with Gun Il-san and follow Sword Spirit. He rose and left to catch up with the one who had already gone ahead.

“Hey!” Seo Gun-ha, who had descended Hyungsan and followed Sword Spirit, called to the man walking ahead.

“What is it? I clearly said I wouldn’t spar with you,” Sword Spirit’s expression showed his mood.

“No, I asked you to walk down the mountain together. Did I ask you to spar?” Seo Gun-ha said, pouting when Sword Spirit turned wordlessly to him.

“What kind of man…?” Seo Gun-ha muttered.

“His lord is in a foul mood today; don’t pay attention,” Yoo Akgun told Seo Gun-ha.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Didn’t you see? A reputable sect came and tried to intimidate him; of course he’d be upset.”

Seo Gun-ha thought that might be true, but remembering the confident demeanor Hyungsan had shown, he felt that might not be the whole reason.

“By the way, Lord Sword Spirit…”

While Yoo Akgun and Seo Gun-ha talked, Jeok Hwamyeong was beside Sword Spirit, speaking with him.

“Was it necessary to provoke them so?” Jeok Hwamyeong asked.

“I thought there was no need to be dragged along by them. I haven’t been in the martial world long, but if someone sits still they’re exploited…” Sword Spirit replied.

He had seen it in the Southern State and in merchants at markets and stalls—those who do nothing often end up the fools.

Jeok Hwamyeong nodded at Sword Spirit’s words.

The martial world is fundamentally one of the strong surviving; the weak band together to make a force to oppose the strong. That’s how sects, families, and estates form.

“As I said before, one hand cannot fend off many hands. I think you need to get a bit gentler,” Jeok Hwamyeong said sincerely, worried about him.

Sword Spirit knew Jeok Hwamyeong was sincere in his concern.

If Jeok had seen Sword Spirit playing with Jin Ah-seol, he might not have said such things.

Sword Spirit’s nature wasn’t purely strong—circumstances had shaped it that way.

“I’ll try,” Sword Spirit said.

There was no need to pick fights with those who cared for him.

“So what now? Cheonmyeong Lodge certainly won’t sit by idly.”

That was to be expected.

“My resolve hasn’t changed. I’ll just do what I intend to do.”

“A conspiracy?” Jeok Hwamyeong asked; they had discussed this once before.

“Yes. It is said that when heaven sends a person, that person has something they must do. The stronger the power, the greater the task they must bear.”

Sword Spirit told Jeok Hwamyeong about what he had heard from the Solitary Demon.

“So you came into the martial world to uncover a conspiracy?” Jeok Hwamyeong asked.

“Not exactly, but giving life meaning isn’t a bad thing,” Sword Spirit replied.

He was not wrong. Rather than living a bland, colorless life, it’s better to live with purpose.

“You learned that from someone.”

“I don’t know if I learned it personally; it’s just what my elders told me to live by,” Sword Spirit answered.

The more Jeok Hwamyeong learned about Sword Spirit, the more he thought there was to learn from him.

Age doesn’t matter when learning. The bigger problem is those who know their shortcomings but refuse to learn. Jeok Hwamyeong wanted to see and learn much while with Sword Spirit.

“That’s different. Saying what you’ve heard and saying what you’ve felt are not the same,” Sword Spirit said with a faint smile.

At first Jeok didn’t know what to expect, but now he trusted Sword Spirit. That alone was a comforting strength.

—I must meet many who will share my heart, regardless of age. Only then will I avoid being lonely like me.

—Aw, Lonely Granddad, why are you sad? You’ve got Ghost Granddad and Jeonmo Grandma. And Sword Spirit too.

—Now maybe, but long ago it was different.

—Alright! I’ll find many friends to share my heart, Sword Spirit will too.

Sword Spirit recalled the conversation he’d had with the Solitary Demon, Cheon Nam-yeon.

Gaining friends with whom one can share one’s heart is surely a happiness.

“So we’re heading to Jung-gyeong now?” Jeok Hwamyeong asked.

“Yes. We’ll go to Jung-gyeong, take care of business, and then properly start uncovering the conspiracy.”