Chapter 421
## Chapter 421. The Price of Fame (1)
—
The location of the Tai-eul Sect was near Hefei within Anhui Province.
Despite possessing a deep heritage stretching back five centuries, the martial world paid no attention to this particular organization.
Such was the harsh truth of the modern Murim; a clan whose martial prowess barely sufficed to earn a livelihood as caravan escorts or simple mercenaries could never hope to accumulate wealth or expand its domain.
Had it been a culinary establishment boasting a five-hundred-year legacy instead, they might have at least amassed a fortune through a closely guarded ancestral recipe.
Regrettably, the Tai-eul Sect retained nothing of its ancient heritage save for its five-century-old foundation stones. It barely clung to survival by occupying a spot among the 108 Peaks—a distinction that left many observers baffled as to how they had qualified in the first place.
Naturally, the denizens of the Murim did not view this lingering existence with favor.
Numerous challengers had attempted to dismantle the Tai-eul Sect and seize its rank, yet, through some strange fortune, the sect had maintained its position for five hundred years.
The commentators of the martial world reasoned that even if one overthrew the Tai-eul Sect to take its place, the victor would achieve nothing more than the minor prestige of defeating a weak opponent.
In essence, due to a collective mentality of “I refuse to do the dirty work myself, but I hope someone else does,” the Tai-eul Sect managed to protect its title within the 108 Peaks across the centuries, despite its negligible influence.
“So, to put it plainly, doesn’t that just mean they’ve been coasting on easy street all this time?”
Jin Tae-san’s features contorted with anger at Gang Chae-seok’s crude phrasing.
“Mind your tongue! How dare you speak so vulgarly in a chamber where the Hall Masters and even the Elders are assembled!”
Gang Chae-seok’s face flushed crimson under Jin Tae-san’s reprimand. He attempted to rephrase his thought more politely, but…
“……So, to put it another way…… they’ve been enjoying a comfortable…… Argh!”
Ultimately, he cut his own words short and downed his tea in frustration.
Yet tea, unlike strong liquor, could not soothe his irritation.
While Gang Chae-seok continuously raised the kettle to replenish his cup, Hong Mun-gi directed a question toward Jin Tae-san.
“What is the current state of the Daicheon Merchant Group?”
“We have avoided catastrophic losses so far, but it has reached a point where subtle obstruction is undeniably making itself felt.”
The costs of their supplied merchandise had suddenly spiked, and the disbursement of funds was being repeatedly deferred.
Should this issue, which currently seemed like a minor leak, persist indefinitely, it would inevitably trigger a crisis in their cash flow.
“Is there any chance this matter will settle on its own?”
Jin Tae-san shook his head.
“We are not experiencing a drought, no natural calamity has struck, and no warfare has erupted. It defies logic that multiple partners would experience sudden financial crises simultaneously.”
In the end, the only logical conclusion was that a significant power was pulling the strings behind those merchants.
Within the alliances and rivalries of the Murim, which were woven as intricately as a spider’s web, one could cross paths with a foe or an ally simply by taking two steps.
Perhaps this could be viewed as a delayed reaction, considering they had spent years isolated from the Jeongdo Association.
As the assembly fell into a contemplative silence, a voice cut through.
“What if we reclaim what is ours by force?”
“!”
“!!”
“!!!”
The deep utterance of the Munju-nim commanded the room.
“We must confront this directly and take it back, even if it requires strength.”
Hearing Hong Mun-gi’s declaration, the Hall Masters and Elders stared at him in disbelief.
The Hong Mun-gi of old was a man who would never handle disputes in such an aggressive manner.
Was he not traditionally recognized as a righteous gentleman who lived so strictly by honorable principles that none could surpass him?
Hong Mun-gi then revealed to the gathered leaders the catalyst for his transformation.
“Do you believe it is acceptable for our youth to starve because of dishonest scoundrels?”
“……!”
Though Hong Mun-gi’s shift in attitude was startling, no one opposed his stance. For that was the true duty of a leader.
Instead, they began to view him with deep reverence, finding him entirely dependable.
“Even if we refrain from an immediate show of force, could we not apply pressure?”
Jin Tae-san shook his head.
“But wouldn’t that play directly into the strategy they desire?”
“Why do you say that?”
“The internal forces of the Daicheon Merchant Group are inadequate to apply real pressure. To utilize the strength of the Tai-eul Sect as well, we would have no choice but to throw open our gates once more.”
“…….”
It was common knowledge that the Tai-eul Sect stood behind the Daicheon Merchant Group.
Given that entities with far greater leverage than the Daicheon Merchant Group had initiated the payment delays, the underlying malice was obvious.
If observers noted that the Tai-eul Sect remained passive despite the financial withholding, it was certain that even neutral clients would begin draining the Daicheon Merchant Group’s resources one by one.
“It will take less than half the time it took to establish the Daicheon Merchant Group for it to be completely destroyed.”
Even if the Daicheon Merchant Group collapsed, the mining operations would endure, but under the current circumstances, it was doubtful they could command a fair price for their iron ore.
Furthermore, that was not the sole crisis threatening the Tai-eul Sect.
“Hall Master Gang, what is the headcount of the crowd gathered outside?”
“According to the tally from yesterday evening, the count exceeded thirty.”
Barely four days had passed since a mere ten individuals had assembled, yet the gathering had already tripled in size.
Their objectives were entirely identical.
They demanded the opening of the Tai-eul Sect’s gates.
And Bimu.
Beginning with martial artists originating from Jeomchang and Wudang, the influx of those seeking to elevate their own renown by challenging the sect was steadily rising.
For if one were to name the clan generating the greatest stir in the Murim today, it was undoubtedly the Tai-eul Sect.
“……We are truly bearing the burden of our reputation.”
It is often said that earning a name is challenging, but preserving it is far more demanding.
The current Murim was demanding a toll from the Tai-eul Sect commensurate with its newfound fame.
“Munju-nim, the primary threat does not lie with those waiting outside our doors.”
At Jin Tae-san’s remark, Hong Mun-gi knit his brows.
To think a more severe peril loomed over them.
“According to reports from Master Wang, a Murim Dispatch is being distributed across the land, denouncing the Tai-eul Sect.”
“……A Murim Dispatch?”
“Indeed. It claims that public resentment is rising because we hold a rank within the 108 Peaks and are broadening our reach, yet we shirk the obligations that accompany such status.”
Naturally, the assertions within the Murim Dispatch were fabricated.
The Tai-eul Sect strictly fulfilled every obligation dictated by its rank within the 108 Peaks, and they refrained from external conflicts unless absolutely forced.
Their conduct was far more disciplined than that of other clans.
Nevertheless, the reason public animosity toward the Tai-eul Sect was intensifying was straightforward.
Envy.
It was inevitable that certain factions would burn with resentment upon seeing the Tai-eul Sect—which had languished insignificantly for five centuries—suddenly attain renown and expand its territory.
It is simply human nature to try and drag down someone who was once your equal the moment they scale a higher peak.
“Once this public resentment gains a semblance of justification, entire sects, rather than lone wanderers, will take action. When that occurs, regardless of how the conflict began, the Tai-eul Sect will not emerge unscathed.”
“It is unavoidable.”
“Yet if we unbar the gates at this moment, an endless tide akin to famished spirits will descend to tear the Tai-eul Sect apart.”
Such a crossroads comes to every entity.
That definitive moment when one can neither confront the storm nor flee from it.
If one retreats at that juncture, everything previously gained must be surrendered once more.
The same applied to a martial clan.
Hong Mun-gi, who had briefly closed his eyes in thought, spoke.
“I desire to hear your counsel.”
He spoke with grave solemnity.
“Do you believe the hour has arrived to open the gates of the Tai-eul Sect?”
Yet no one spoke.
Not a single soul could readily offer an answer to his inquiry.
They understood that regardless of their advice, the ultimate consequences would rest entirely on Hong Mun-gi’s shoulders.
Thus, they held their tongues, unwilling to irresponsibly transfer the burden.
“…….”
Hong Mun-gi actually offered a faint smile at the sight.
As expected, their character remained unchanged.
Their livelihoods had become secure.
Their martial arts were now equal to any style found within the Murim.
Even though the younger disciples had gained renown throughout the land and public perception had shifted, these individuals remained the steadfast heart of the Tai-eul Sect.
And he was no different.
“The purpose of my ascension to this seat was not to enjoy the greatest privileges. It was to shoulder the greatest responsibilities.”
“…….”
“Therefore, you bear no need to offer me apologies or feel regret. That duty is mine alone, while your duty is simply to voice your thoughts.”
Spurred by Hong Mun-gi’s reassurance, a certain Hall Master, who had been carefully reading the room, raised his hand.
“I believe we should keep the gates closed.”
“What is your reasoning?”
“Though the younger generation is advancing at an extraordinary pace, they cannot yet be considered fully mature experts. If we open the gates, we will be inundated with Bimu requests that we cannot legally refuse, yet our roster of master-level martial artists capable of handling them is clearly lacking.”
“You need not fret over that matter.”
“Pardon?”
The Hall Master questioned, caught off guard.
Hong Mun-gi, locking eyes with him, replied with absolute certainty.
“I shall personally contest any Bimu Dispatches delivered by lone challengers.”
For a reigning Munju to personally duel a mere wanderer or an unranked disciple…
Such an event was unprecedented in the martial world.
Just as the Hall Masters prepared to object, shifting uncomfortably in their seats, Hong Mun-gi raised a hand to silence them.
“Naturally, should any challenger endure more than fifty exchanges against me, I will permit any of you to take my place thereafter.”
“……!”
Gang Chae-seok, who had remained quiet, flushed crimson once more.
“What madness is this! For the leader of the sect to put himself on the line. Should you suffer defeat……!”
“What if I do lose?”
“What??”
Gang Chae-seok, who had been brimming with indignation, froze instantly.
In stark contrast, Hong Mun-gi’s demeanor remained perfectly serene.
“Does the Tai-eul Sect vanish into nothingness if I am bested?”
“……It is not that. The sect’s dignity…….”
“Dignity?”
Hong Mun-gi let out a soft scoff before continuing.
“Does dignity provide our sustenance? Does it shield the Tai-eul Sect from harm?”
“…….”
He then shifted his focus, locking eyes with every individual gathered within the inner sanctuary.
“My willingness to do battle is not driven by a desire to flaunt my power. It is to demonstrate to the world that even in defeat, the Tai-eul Sect is a force to be feared. Therefore, what consequence do victory or loss truly hold!”
Confronted by Hong Mun-gi’s unyielding resolve, the Hall Masters fell utterly silent, like men struck dumb.
There was not a single flaw in his rationale.
Even so, they could not permit the Munju to expose himself to such risks.
Setting prestige aside, if the literal anchor of the clan entered the fray so casually, it would invite a different set of complications.
However, because they could not blindly oppose a leader of such fierce determination—who had now ascended to the ranks of true master martial artists—their attention naturally gravitated toward the sole individual capable of reasoning with him.
“Hmm…….”
Jin Tae-san, sensing the weight of the room shifting onto him, let out a quiet sigh.
‘How did we arrive at this point?’
Hong Mun-gi, his companion since boyhood, had always been a man who sought harmony and moderation.
A gentle soul who resembled a benevolent Buddha, constantly maintaining that peace was always the best path.
Yet, as if compensating for a lifetime of patience and leniency, he had suddenly transformed into a fervent warrior.
The change was so stark that some within the sect suspected a corrupting energy had affected his mind during his rigorous martial training under Baek Hae-gwang.
Regardless, while the logic of the newly militant Hong Mun-gi was sound, it was blindingly obvious that the Tai-eul Sect would be ground to dust if they attempted to resolve every incoming Bimu and political dispute through raw violence the moment the gates were opened.
Yet, he lacked the confidence to extinguish the fierce fire that had already been kindled within the Munju.
To be precise, he possessed no definitive counterargument to oppose the opening of the gates.
For it was undeniably true that the Daicheon Merchant Group was on the brink of ruin.
As he desperately calculated a solution to this intricate crisis, he felt his mental stamina draining rapidly.
After a tense moment of deliberation, a strategy crystallized.
A method to temper the Munju’s fiery impulse while granting them the breathing room to step back and evaluate the situation calmly.
“Why don’t we seek counsel for the time being?”
“Seek counsel? Do you refer to Master Baek?”
“No. Not him.”
An individual uniquely suited for convoluted dilemmas. Rather, a person notorious for complicating any situation, and who was a walking dilemma himself.
“I speak of that boy, Jin So-un.”
“Hmm?”
It was an awkward proposal, making a father feel self-conscious to bring up his own son as an independent authority, but no alternative existed.
For the solitary figure capable of defusing Hong Mun-gi’s current intensity was Jin So-un.
“Was it not Jin So-un who originally proposed the Closed-Gate Seclusion? If that is the case, is it not logical that we consult him regarding the ideal moment and strategy for unbarring the gates?”
Finding their thoughts aligned with his, the Hall Masters nodded their heads in rapid agreement.
They, too, were desperate to avoid the sight of their supreme leader cracking the skulls of vagrant swordsmen on the front lines like a common vanguard commander.
Furthermore, while navigating the gate opening without bloodshed was ideal, should combat occur, absolute victory was mandatory.
“Hmph……. Won’t a consultation consume far too much time?”
“Are you unaware of the sheer volume of couriers and messenger birds operating between Wuhan and Anhui? If we dispatch the query immediately, we can expect a response from Jin So-un by nightfall.”
“Hahat, you truly are resourceful.”
Hong Mun-gi offered a brief chuckle at Jin Tae-san’s jest, which successfully eased the tension in the room.
A brief period of silent reflection followed.
The Hall Masters watched Hong Mun-gi with bated breath.
“Very well, let us await So-un’s counsel.”
The moment the desired verdict was uttered, a collective wave of relief swept through the chamber.
“Whew. This is grueling.”
The choice to initiate the Closed-Gate Seclusion had been grueling, yet reversing it felt vastly more complex than locking the doors had ever been.
Upon my return to the Murim Alliance, I found myself placed in isolation from my companions.
When I demanded an explanation for such restrictive treatment, Jegal So-myeong answered with the rigid arrogance typical of his advanced years.
“Count yourself fortunate that you haven’t been locked away in the Golden Prison.”
The quarters assigned to me consisted of a modest, detached pavilion situated in the outer ring of the Murim Alliance.
The security was absolute, marked by a pair of sentries stationed permanently at the threshold.
Even so, given that human interactions usually leave room for leverage, I attempted a minor request.
“Our orders are strictly to keep you under surveillance, Jin So-un. We are forbidden from procuring spirits for you.”
People can be so unyielding, honestly.
Ignoring the guards who took their duties far too seriously, I turned and walked toward the modest courtyard designated for training within the pavilion.
If liquor was unavailable, only a single remedy remained to clear a cluttered mind.
“Yong So-ah.”
Instantly, my mind conjured Yong So-ah’s form, projecting it vividly into the center of the courtyard.
As the image materialized before me, a deep resentment began to simmer within my chest.
“Are you truly so infallible? Do you possess answers for everything?”
I let out an angry complaint, only to catch myself and feel ridiculous for the outburst.
“Whew.”
Beside that illusion, I manifested the version of Yong So-ah I had witnessed in the final moments of my previous incarnation—the legendary Taecheong Singeom.
He possessed an identical stature and familiar features.
An expression that remained irritatingly smug despite the passage of time.
Though his dark locks had bleached to pure white and his countenance bore the deep lines of age, the presence he radiated was incomparable to the youthful Yong So-ah.
The rising star of the martial world, the invincible master, the supreme force.
A flawless entity that seemed stripped straight from the pages of a cheap chronicle.
The Demonic Cult had emerged after five centuries of meticulous preparation.
While every clan belonging to the Orthodox path crumbled helplessly before the wicked influence they unleashed, Yong So-ah stood as the solitary bastion who suffered not a single defeat.
He was, in the literal sense, the solitary salvation of the entire Murim.
The singular, blazing beacon that endured even as the shadow of the Great War between Justice and Evil enveloped the land.
And now, I was desperately trying to unravel the mystery behind the power wielded by that supreme beacon.
“It defies logic.”
Leaving the conflict at the Sect of Ten Thousand Poisons aside, the events that transpired at the estate today made no sense.
My personal advancement is significant, but more importantly, that technique was a hidden asset I had perfected through countless mental simulations since the crisis at the Sect of Ten Thousand Poisons.
“There must be a secret.”
I raised my eyes to look upon the Taecheong Singeom.
The Demonic Cult, possessing the counter-strategies to the core styles of the Murim Alliance, had cut down the Alliance’s martial artists like scythes through wheat.
The Murim Alliance endured a relentless string of defeats until Jegal Cheon-gi developed unconventional tactics to neutralize the Demonic Cult’s counter-strategies.
Yet, through it all, the Taecheong Singeom remained completely undefeated.
Nay, whenever he encountered the champions of the Demonic Cult, he claimed their lives without fail.
It was a staggering, miraculous record of success.
‘Back then, I attributed it solely to his overwhelming martial prowess.’
I was no longer the naive Jin So-un who viewed the martial world through a narrow lens.
Naturally, I did not deny the immense gulf in raw capability and innate talent.
Given the disparity between Yong So-ah, who had mastered the intricacies of Taiji Quan before reaching his tenth year, and myself, a gap in skill was entirely expected.
Yet, if he is fundamentally a mortal man.
If he walks upon the same earth as the rest of us.
How could his execution remain ‘flawless’ in every single encounter?
A warrior sustains injuries; a fighter is caught off guard by a hidden trump card.
A master of the first rank can fall to the blade of a common thug, and there are always assassins capable of slaying peak masters using a flawless Tortoise Breathing Step.
“Yet you never once suffered such a setback.”
I studied the Taecheong Singeom before shifting my gaze to the contemporary Yong So-ah.
In my previous life, the Taecheong Singeom occupied such a divine status that I never possessed the opportunity to analyze his movements and martial arts up close.
But the present situation is different.
For I now held distinct ‘recollections’ of Yong So-ah spanning three separate encounters.
The stoic Yong So-ah, wearing that annoying expression, draws his blade.
And he speaks.
[Do you truly credit the notion that a mortal mind can commit two hundred thousand distinct tactical paths to memory?]
Yong So-ah at the Maryeong Plateau.
[I demanded to know the reason for your survival.]
Yong So-ah at the Sect of Ten Thousand Poisons.
[You represent an anomaly. And anomalies introduce a multitude of perils.]
Yong So-ah at the Wuhan Manor.
Each iteration executes a strike with his sword.
Varying settings, distinct scenarios, yet a singular thread bound them together.
‘Damn it…….’
The execution was transcendentally beautiful.
Though it lacked the fluid, feminine grace found within the styles of the Hundred Flowers Palace, the sheer perfection of his execution and his profound comprehension birthed an innate aesthetic perfection.
His adversary was always cast as the clumsy antagonist by comparison.
For no living entity could hope to match the elegance of his movement.
Stifling a wave of intense frustration, I began to review his martial movements once more from the absolute beginning.
“…….”
I ran through the memory again.
“…….”
Once more.
“…….”
And once more…….
“……What mockery is this?”
The current mastery displayed by Yong So-ah had not yet achieved the height of the Taecheong Singeom from my past life.
If that held true.
It was reasonable that I could not lay a hand on Yong So-ah at the Maryeong Plateau.
However, it was entirely absurd that I failed to land a blow at the Sect of Ten Thousand Poisons and the Wuhan Manor.
I am not suggesting I should have emerged victorious.
I am stating that it defies all logic that I failed to inflict even a single meaningful wound upon him.
Setting aside raw genius or martial insights, my own reserves of internal cultivation were far from negligible.
This was not a dilemma I could simply dismiss by rationalizing, ‘well, he is just an anomaly.’
For this mystery directly impacted my destiny, the destiny of the Tai-eul Sect, and by extension, the fate of the entire Murim Alliance.
“What is the trick? Disclose your mystery, Yong So-ah.”
I delved deep into my consciousness, recreating the battlefield landscapes of the past.
The exact instant I unleashed the Heaven-Shaking Divine Palm at the Maryeong Plateau.
The exact instant I initiated the White Moon Heaven-Reaching Third Form: Extreme Speed at the Sect of Ten Thousand Poisons.
The exact instant the Great Heaven Sword Technique was deployed at the Wuhan Manor.
At the very peak of my concentration, where I could practically feel the heat radiating from my skull as I meticulously dissected the memories frame by frame.
I perceived it.
“Damn it…….”
A heartbeat before my own technique could even manifest.
He was already executing his counter-movement.
“How is this even possible?”
It was a reality so shocking that it strained the limits of my own recollection.
