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chapter 79
The grand assembly hall of the Martial Alliance was crowded with people.
Present were the Martial Alliance Leader, the Grand Marshal, the Elders, the representatives of the Nine Great Sects, and the heads of the Ten Great Clans.
These were, in truth, the figures who represented and led the righteous factions of the martial world.
Even though the Shinchang Clan was considered a righteous clan representing Guangdong Province, it still paled in comparison to the powers gathered here.
“Thank you all for coming.”
With a brief greeting from the Alliance Leader, the Iron Sabre Sword, Seo Jamyung, the purpose of the gathering was made clear.
“Lately, the martial world has fallen into great chaos. How are things within your sects? I heard that the Seomun Clan recently overcame a major crisis.”
The head of one of the Ten Great Clans, Lord Seomun Jejun, spoke up.
“Fortunately, thanks to my mother’s sixtieth birthday celebration, many martial friends came to our aid. We were able to repel the demonic attackers with minimal damage. In particular, we owe much to the hero Jeok Hwamyung and his companions.”
The news had already reached everyone through the Beggar Sect’s network. Many other sects had also suffered attacks from demonic cultists—some gravely, others scarcely at all like the Seomun Clan.
“Since the appearance of these demons, misfortune has struck the martial world far more often than fortune. The reason I asked for everyone to gather is this—just a short while ago, a group of demons infiltrated the Alliance grounds, intending to disrupt the Martial Arts Tournament, but were found dead—killed by someone.”
“Is that true?”
Everyone turned in surprise, their eyes shifting back to the Alliance Leader, Seo Jamyung.
“It’s true. Their bodies were discovered on the street in front of the House of Righteous Pleasure. Each corpse carried a martial arts manual containing demonic techniques. We cannot tell whether this was part of some plot or whether they truly were demons.”
He could say this now because they were already dead.
“How many were there?”
“There were six corpses in total. But judging by the scattered remains, it seems there were at least eight to ten.”
“To kill ten demonic masters in secret—how many in the world could achieve such a feat?”
The man who spoke had a partly bald head and a thick beard that gave him a rugged, imposing air. He was Paeng Chunho, head of the Paeng Clan—known as the Northern Paeng Clan, representing Hebei Province.
He was famed throughout the martial world for perfecting the Five Tiger Severing Saber Technique, known as the Invincible Saber Art of the Paeng Clan.
“Could it be that someone killed them deliberately and then planted those demonic manuals on their bodies?”
“We haven’t ruled that out. However, if this was all part of a greater plot, it could spell grave disaster for the martial world.”
Conspiracies, by nature, cause the greatest harm when no one realizes they are unfolding.
Now that everyone was aware and on alert, the damage might be mitigated even if such a scheme were in motion.
Seo Jamyung exchanged glances with the Grand Marshal Jegal Mingi, who gave a slight nod.
“We of the Martial Alliance will investigate the matter of these demons and find out who the killer truly was. But the real reason I have gathered you all here is something else…”
When Seo Jamyung trailed off, all eyes turned toward him. He understood the art of commanding attention.
Once every gaze was fixed upon him, he spoke again.
“The Zhangbao Map has appeared.”
The room fell into stunned silence.
That silence didn’t last long.
“Grand Marshal, please explain in detail.”
Jegal Mingi bowed slightly to the crowd and began to speak.
“The Alliance received word of the Zhangbao Map just half a month ago.”
“Whose Zhangbao Map is it?”
The question came from Hwangbo Myeong, the Great Elder of the Hwangbo Clan, also known as the Fist King—a man known for his impatience second to none in the martial world.
“That part remains unclear. Our informants have been tracking the map’s movements, but it has proven difficult.”
“Difficult? In what way?”
“The Demonic Alliance is also pursuing the Zhangbao Map.”
At the mention of the Demonic Alliance, faces across the room stiffened. Though the two sides coexisted out of necessity, their relationship could collapse into open war at any moment.
“Then the rumor must already be spreading widely among martial artists.”
The one who spoke next was Heo U, one of the Twelve Elders of Wudang, known for his scholarly grace and Taoist bearing—often described as a sage’s poise, a master’s bone structure.
“Not yet,” Jegal Mingi replied. “For now, it’s being kept quiet. The Zhangbao Map is not something that should be widely known.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“The real problem,” Jegal Mingi continued, “is that this too may be part of a larger conspiracy.”
“A conspiracy?”
“Yes. Demons have appeared—and now, the Zhangbao Map has surfaced.”
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.
“Every time the Zhangbao Map has emerged in history, it brought bloodshed to the martial world. I believe its reappearance now, at a time when demons are already causing chaos, is meant to prevent us from uniting.”
The reasoning struck many as plausible.
“Grand Marshal Jegal, you speak as though you are convinced this is truly a plot.”
The one who asked was Yong Chwiseon, the leader of the Beggar Sect, one of the Nine Great Sects.
He was said to have mastered both the Dog-Beating Staff Technique and the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms—and was recognized as the strongest Beggar Sect leader in history, ranked among the top ten masters of the entire martial world.
“I imagine the Beggar Sect knows more about this than anyone, Leader Yong.”
At that, Yong Chwiseon nodded, and everyone understood the implication.
“The Alliance’s spies are tracking the Zhangbao Map, but so are we,” Yong said.
“And we’ve learned something crucial—it’s not one map. There are three.”
The room erupted in murmurs.
“Have you discovered what the map leads to?”
Yong nodded solemnly.
“The Zhangbao Map points to the Heavenly Demon’s Tomb—the resting place of the greatest martial artist in history, the Heavenly Demon himself.”
Thud!
Shock rippled through the hall.
The Heavenly Demon—no one greater had ever walked the earth.
Even five hundred years later, no one had surpassed him.
The solitary master, Heavenly Desolation Demon Nam Yeon, was said to have come close, but even he was considered a step below the Heavenly Demon.
“Is that truly confirmed?”
“Yes. Five hundred years ago, the Heavenly Demon had three disciples. To each, he passed down one of his secret techniques, including the Heavenly Demon Divine Art.”
From Yong Chwiseon’s lips came ancient secrets few had ever heard. The listeners’ expressions varied—astonishment, greed, contemplation.
“When the Demonic Cult collapsed, the three disciples led their followers away and founded new sects—the Asura Sect, the Blood Sect, and the Iron Lion Fortress.”
These sects still existed today, though after five centuries, they had become entirely different from the original Demonic Cult. Each claimed to be the Heavenly Demon’s true successor.
But even the Beggar Sect didn’t know that there had been a fourth disciple—the one who inherited everything from the Heavenly Demon himself.
“The Zhangbao Map originated from those sects,” Yong continued. “It doesn’t seem to be fabricated. It was likely discovered by chance, which makes it all the more believable.”
“Then it may not be false at all,” said Namgung Seohan, an elder of the Namgung Clan, one of the Ten Great Clans.
“Perhaps. But the circumstances are far too convenient—and the fact that all three maps were discovered simultaneously is suspicious. For five hundred years, no one found them, and now suddenly they appear?”
“That is strange indeed.”
“And most importantly,” Yong added, “someone has been spreading the rumor deliberately. We still haven’t identified who.”
The shortage of reliable information was apparent.
“But one thing is certain,” said Jegal Mingi. “With events moving so suddenly, we must act cautiously.”
“What if others find the Heavenly Demon’s Tomb first?” someone asked.
“As I said, the three maps must be united before the tomb can be opened.”
“Hmm…”
A thoughtful silence fell. The leaders were weighing their options.
Would they remain with the Alliance until the tournament’s end—or send word home to pursue the Zhangbao Maps themselves? Both Seo Jamyung and Jegal Mingi could read that calculation in their faces.
When the silence lingered, Gun Ilsan, known as Mount Heng’s Greatest Sword, finally spoke.
“You share all this about the Zhangbao Maps—do you expect us to act upon it?”
Gun Ilsan had left seclusion and come to the forefront largely because of the Sword Spirit. Like his senior mentor, he had realized that his duty wasn’t to fade with time, but to train worthy successors for the future.
Jegal Mingi met his eyes. “Yes. To minimize unnecessary loss of life, the Alliance intends to reveal the truth about the Zhangbao Maps to the martial world during the tournament.”
“To everyone?” someone objected. “That will cause more harm than good! Think of how many reckless martial artists will rush after it!”
The Ten Great Clans immediately voiced opposition, while the Nine Great Sects remained quiet.
“We disagree,” said Jegal Mingi calmly. “If the Nine Sects, the Ten Clans, and the mid-tier sects move together, we can control the chaos. If we gather individual warriors and act in unity, we can prevent large-scale casualties.”
“You mean to form a separate group?”
“Yes. During the tournament, we plan to establish a special martial corps made up of promising young warriors—those who volunteer.”
“That’s a fine idea,” Gun Ilsan said approvingly. “Experience is the greatest teacher. Mount Heng will send our disciples to join.”
“Huashan as well,” another voice added.
One by one, sects like Hengshan, Huashan, and Zhongnan declared support.
“Thank you,” Jegal Mingi said. “But remember—no matter what happens, we must cooperate to ensure that at least one of the three Zhangbao Maps falls into our hands.”
If they secured one, they could negotiate their way into the Heavenly Demon’s Tomb later.
“The Shaolin Sect will follow the Alliance’s lead,” the Shaolin representative declared.
The Nine Great Sects agreed, but the Ten Great Clans hesitated.
This was the Heavenly Demon’s ultimate martial art.
If one could claim it, their clan would become the supreme power in the world.
To share such a treasure? Impossible.
“The clan heads must be consulted first,” Namgung Seohan said finally—a convenient excuse that others quickly echoed, retreating behind similar words.
“Very well,” Seo Jamyung replied. “Leader Yong, please share all the intelligence you’ve gathered. The Alliance will act after the tournament concludes.”
Later That Night
Muyeong visited the site where the demons had been slain—but it had already been thoroughly cleaned.
As he walked back to his quarters, he pondered who could have killed ten demons so quietly.
Even among the hundred greatest masters, few could have done so without causing a stir.
“Perhaps the old Sword of Mount Heng, Gun Ilsan, or the Alliance Leader himself—but they were both on the tournament stage.”
He had suspects in mind, but they were all accounted for at the time.
“Damn it…”
The first stage of his plan had failed.
Not entirely—just delayed—but it would now take more effort.
Every inn was packed. The Martial Tournament brought together countless strangers who, for a few nights, became friends.
Inside, people were drinking and debating loudly.
“I’m betting on Heavenly Dragon Ok Segi! He’s the strongest.”
“No, Sword Dragon Namgung Seok will win.”
Among the younger generation, the Ten Dragons and Eight Peaks were the ones everyone talked about.
“I heard there’s a young man who fought Wielder Hyun Taeryeong to a draw—and he’s barely in his twenties. If he enters, he could win it all.”
Muyeong, walking past the inn, stopped briefly at those words, then kept walking—his expression clouded with deep thought.
“They say that man, Hyun Taeryeong’s younger brother, Hyun Jinmyeong, learned demonic arts and killed him…”
Muyeong shook his head.
“That’s too far-fetched. Even if he’s in the tournament, there’s no way he could have quietly killed ten demons.”
Just then, three figures approached from the opposite direction—two women and, between them, a man so beautiful he could almost be mistaken for a third woman.
Muyeong passed them by without noticing the faint smile that crossed the man’s lips.
“So in the end, I’ll have to make my mark in the tournament itself…”
He sighed. The detour would be long.
Among the younger generation were the Ten Dragons and Eight Peaks, and among the elders, the Hundred Masters. To reach his goal, he’d have to surpass them all.
He was confident in his own strength—but not in those he had brought with him.
He might beat most, but against the Ten Dragons and Eight Peaks, even he could lose.
With the first plan ruined, everything felt tangled.
“I’m going to get on Lady Hwar Yeong’s bad side for this…”
He expected to be scolded for the setback—but the overall plan remained intact, so he wasn’t too worried.
“I’ll just have to explain the situation to the others and calm them down,” he murmured, heading back into the night.
