Chapter 438
## Chapter 438. The Bird That Calls the Typhoon (3)
—
Even though the seasonal shift into spring had brought gentler weather, a sudden flurry of sunlit rain left the onlookers shivering from a cold that seemed to seep straight from their bones. As the final bouts of the martial tournament concluded, the disciples of the Tae-eul Sect and the attendants of the Wang Family Manor rushed to ignite braziers, unfold thick quilts, and serve heated liquor to help the crowd regain their warmth.
The grand Tae-eul Hall, which housed the most distinguished dignitaries, was similarly prepared. Freshly kindled charcoal filled the heating vessels, while warm infusions and spirits were swiftly laid out. Naturally, none of the masters gathered within the Tae-eul Hall were actually vulnerable to the chill, yet Moyong-gang found his fingers instinctively wrapping around the neck of a wine vessel.
“Kuuu…….”
Known for dominating discussions and rarely keeping quiet, even he sat in absolute silence for a long moment. Every individual occupying the chamber shared the same stillness. The sheer awe of what Jin So-un had displayed during the final confrontation was a marvel that could not be easily dismissed by anyone who had dedicated their existence to the pursuit of the blade.
“Kuuu…….”
After draining three cups in rapid succession, Moyong-gang finally broke the silence.
“The legacy surrounding the Tae-eul Sword Emperor did not endure for five centuries by mere coincidence.”
Previously, the old tales had been treated as little more than exaggerations. Yet, witnessing the true foundation (Geun-bon) of the Tae-eul Sword Emperor firsthand made the ancient connection feel tangible and undeniable. Namgung Tae-ha offered a firm nod of concurrence.
“It was magnificent. To witness their foundational arts polished to such an impeccable degree.”
For the vast majority of ancient organizations, their accumulated knowledge functions like minor offshoots sprouting from a massive central trunk. These smaller offshoots in turn reinforce the main structure, allowing the primary trunk to drive its roots even deeper into the earth. As the generations pass, the tree becomes grander and completely immovable. Consequently, the depth of an lineage’s heritage is tied directly to its age. This very principle explains why the numerous Buddhist martial houses across the Jianghu can never truly eclipse the Shaolin.
“Mu-gang, what was your assessment?”
The inquiry shifted naturally toward Hyeok Mu-gang.
“Do you believe you could hold your own in a clash for dominance against the Tae-eul Sword Emperor?”
Among those present, only Hyeok Mu-gang possessed the standing to answer. The others had merely inherited deeply entrenched legacies, whereas Hyeok Mu-gang stood alone as a creator who had cultivated his own profound roots.
“A clash for dominance…… you ask.”
Hyeok Mu-gang exhaled a soft breath. A protracted quietude descended upon the room. In truth, that solitary sigh carried the answer itself. Even so, the three masters kept their eyes fixed on Hyeok Mu-gang, eagerly awaiting his spoken thoughts. They desired the candid perspective of a man who had ascended to the pinnacle of the world by forging a singular, legendary style like the White Flower Holy Spirit.
He carefully lowered his drinking cup to the floor.
“The display from young So-un was genuinely staggering. Yet, it remained within the realm of a Frontal Attack (Jeong-gong). To wage a battle against the very progenitor who conceived and perfected that entire system…….”
His tone grew noticeably more profound. In the minds of the listeners, a vivid mental picture formed of the White Flower Holy Spirit Sword Law colliding directly with the Ssang-cheon-geom-gyeol. On one side, brilliant chrysanthemum petals unfurled and scattered across the battlefield. On the other, the forms shifted relentlessly through an infinite sequence of variations—a majestic vision of two peaks vying for ultimate supremacy.
Perhaps the exact same image was playing out in Hyeok Mu-gang’s own thoughts. A faint, genuine smile touched the corners of his mouth as he idly toyed with his cup.
“Honestly, if I were ever granted such an encounter, I would leave the Jianghu without a single lingering regret.”
“…….”
“Because I would be entirely consumed by the thrill of unleashing every ounce of my concentration to break that technique.”
It was an extraordinary encomium. Hyeok Mu-gang was notoriously unsparing and critical when analyzing the abilities of others. Yet, within his declaration lay a distinct trace of reverence (Dong-gyeong) toward the ancient Tae-eul Sword Emperor. This sentiment extended beyond Hyeok Mu-gang’s unique perspective as an independent creator. Every soul in this room, regardless of their grand reputation in the martial world, was at their core a true martial artist (Mu-in) who had sacrificed everything for the sake of ‘Martial Arts.’
“Never before have I felt such bitterness over the fact that I cannot stand before him to test our blades and debate the path of the sword.”
“To yearn for that is foolish; a chasm of five hundred years is simply too vast to cross.”
As Moyong-gang’s blunt remark shattered the reverie, a prominent vein throbbed on Hyeok Mu-gang’s forehead.
“Naturally, a crude brawler like yourself wouldn’t comprehend it. The ethereal and refined elegance of true mastery.”
“……What did you say! Have you lost your mind, old man? I was the very person who validated the legacy of the Tae-eul Sword Emperor and brought Jin So-un to light!”
“That truth would have emerged regardless of your involvement. You merely stumbled upon the chance because you spend your days wandering aimlessly through the provinces.”
Just as the tempers of the two old masters threatened to boil over, Jegal So-myeong intervened.
“Cease this bickering. What will the martial world think if they witness four legendary figures of the Jianghu engaging in a petty shouting match?”
“…….”
Naturally, Moyong-gang was not the type to fall silent meekly.
“If men of our advanced age cannot bicker over trivialities, what else is left? Are we expected to climb into our burial boxes this very instant?”
To drown out the rising complaints, Jegal So-myeong sharply unfurled his hand fan. He paused for a brief moment to compose himself.
“Our duty is to pave the path ahead for the generations that will succeed us.”
His pronouncement rang out with absolute conviction.
“…….”
Annoyed by the use of an accessory poorly suited to the chilly air, Moyong-gang snorted.
“……Speak plainly. Do not attempt to manipulate the pieces on the board while keeping yourself safely on the sidelines.”
“…….”
Moyong-gang’s words were unrefined, yet they struck directly at the heart of the matter. Jegal So-myeong fixed a sharp gaze on Moyong-gang over the edge of his fan, but Moyong-gang refused to avert his eyes. Following a tense, silent standoff, Jegal So-myeong finally let out a weary sigh.
“I have zero desire to remain on the sidelines. When the time comes for us to act, I will be the one marching at the absolute vanguard.”
“More elusive talk. You scholars who survive on ink and clever words always ensure you have a rear exit prepared before you take a step, *tsk*. Tell us plainly, what is your grand design?”
Spurred by Moyong-gang’s intense prodding, Jegal So-myeong locked eyes with him once more and spoke with deliberate clarity, ensuring every syllable was perfectly understood.
“The complete dismantling of the Righteous Path Society and the White Path Society.”
An icy dread instantly paralyzed the room. Then—
“Have your wits completely abandoned you, old fool?!”
Moyong-gang’s thunderous, alarmed shout tore through the stillness.
“……?!”
Yet the outburst was short-lived. A suffocating, freezing quiet quickly blanketed the chamber once more, as if the ambient temperature had dropped instantly. While the others sat paralyzed, Jegal So-myeong merely agitated his fan with a gentle motion.
“The Wudang and Jeom-chang factions will find themselves in immense peril as a consequence of recent events.”
Their calculated scheme to apply covert duress upon the Tae-eul Sect and legitimize their own maneuvers had utterly collapsed. Now, the rival factions who had been patiently waiting for an opportunity to strike at the vulnerabilities of Wudang and Jeom-chang would begin to assert themselves.
“Sogal-meori, do you comprehend the gravity of your words? You sound like a child boasting about passing the imperial examinations when you’ve barely memorized the basic primer.”
Faced with Moyong-gang’s mockery, Jegal So-myeong tilted his head with an expression of mild amusement.
“Oh? If I recall correctly, I mastered the classic texts and achieved high marks in those very examinations.”
“Dammit!”
Moyong-gang seized another jar of wine and downed it greedily. By now, two full vessels had been emptied down his throat.
“Why are you abruptly demanding the destruction of the Righteous Path Society and the White Path Society? It defies all reason! Have you truly grown so weary of life that you seek your own demise?”
Throughout five centuries of history, the Righteous Path Society and the White Path Society had become inextricably woven into the very fabric of the Murim Alliance. Attempting to tear them out could only signify two possible outcomes: either an intent to dissolve the Murim Alliance entirely, or—
“Are you truly…… prepared to throw your life away?”
This was a venture that required wagering one’s very existence.
“A man of your intellect must realize this……. If those institutions could be broken by mere external pressure, they would have disintegrated centuries ago.”
“Regardless of the difficulty, it is a task that must be executed.”
“Give us the reason!”
Jegal So-myeong drew in a deep, measured breath. Then, he spoke.
“The Heavenly Demon Cult (Cheon-ma-sin-gyo).”
The moment that particular name was uttered alongside his heavy exhalation—
“……!”
Moyong-gang’s breath hitched completely.
“They have finally exposed their presence.”
“…….”
“This is no longer a matter we can debate. Whether we choose to act or—”
“Hold on!”
Namgung Tae-ha abruptly extended his hand, cutting off the explanation.
“Hold on a moment. Is this information absolutely verified?”
Jegal So-myeong slowly scanned the faces in the room, his eyes conveying a chilling severity unlike anything they had seen before.
“Do you honestly believe I would raise the specter of the Demonic Cult based on mere hearsay?”
“…….”
“I have scrutinized the intelligence over a hundred times.”
Each word from Jegal So-myeong carried immense gravity, as though a heavy weight rested upon his tongue.
“All the while praying that my conclusions were false.”
The man who had dedicated three decades of his life to steering the Murim Alliance continued speaking with profound solemnity.
“A thousand times over, I wished that I had simply grown senile and mistaken. But in the end…….”
His voice, laced with an inescapable sense of remorse, delivered the final, grim reality.
“The truth is absolute. The Demonic Cult endures. And…… the ramifications of this reality—”
“…….”
“—are something you all understand perfectly well.”
The declarations made in this room would inevitably unleash a tempest of violence.
“Do not look away from the stark reality laid bare before you.”
A sickening, foul tempest of violence and slaughter.
“For those who have re-emerged will not vanish simply because you resolve to ignore them.”
Every leader present would be forced to make a harrowing choice regarding whose blood would fill the rivers. Given that each of them held the mantle of leadership over the Jianghu, they were in positions where neutrality was impossible.
“And with every moment we waste in hesitation.”
This transcended mere accountability; it was an absolute obligation. The solemn duty borne by an Old Master (Ro-gang-ja) who commands the martial world.
“The eventual devastation will swell beyond all calculation.”
A burden far heavier than the grandest peak and deeper than the darkest abyss.
“Are you certain of this?”
“Tae-ha, how much longer do you intend to blind yourself to the truth?”
“No, that is not my point. We successfully repelled them five centuries ago. Therefore, I am questioning whether it is truly necessary to instigate a bloody purge ‘within the Murim Alliance’ itself.”
Namgung Tae-ha pressed his argument.
“I am not suggesting we ignore the threat. Our collective strength has grown vastly superior to what it was five hundred years ago. Is the number of factions that have arisen since that era not greater than the entire martial world of the past?”
“…….”
“Is it truly wise to reduce the entire estate to ashes simply to eradicate a handful of parasites?”
Jegal So-myeong’s half-closed eyelids snapped wide open.
“I shall present you with undeniable realities. There have been targeted strikes against U-gak of the Cheong-seong Sect, Hyeong-jin of the Kunlun Sect, So-geol of the Beggars’ Union, and Moyong Sang-won of the Moyong Family. Several of these attempts were fatal. Moyong-gang, your own kin was only spared because he crossed paths with a savior.”
At the mention of the incident involving Jin So-un and Moyong Sang-won, Moyong-gang’s features twisted with anger. He recalled how severely he had reprimanded his own child, entirely ignorant of the adversary’s true identity at the time.
“Following that, they ambushed the prospective students traveling across the Bok-yang Plains. The operatives deployed for that strike numbered a mere twelve. As you are likely aware, the agitators causing chaos in Yueyang were merely a distraction, not the genuine Demonic Cult. Subsequent to that, the Blood Cult (Hyeol-gyo) manifested within Sichuan, accompanied by three Iron Steel Jiangshi. Furthermore, agents from the Four Black Lotus (Sa-heuk-ryeon) infiltrated the ranks of the White Path under false pretenses to eliminate Dam-ak, and additionally…….”
“Enough!”
Moyong-gang finally cut him off. However, his voice lacked the aggressive edge it had possessed earlier.
“Namgung comprehends the point you are making. He is merely inquiring if a less destructive alternative exists.”
“…….”
“Because we cannot fathom the staggering toll of human lives that will be claimed if you carry out this design.”
Jegal So-myeong slowly shook his head side to side.
“A different path…… simply does not exist.”
“……No, you cannot just dismiss the matter so definitively…….”
“Would you prefer I share an even more absolute truth?”
“An even more absolute truth?”
Every eye in the hall locked onto Jegal So-myeong. A profound stillness settled over the Tae-eul Hall as he spoke calmly.
“The longer we delay our response, the greater the certainty that the entire ‘Jianghu’ will cease to exist.”
Moyong-gang’s jaw dropped in sheer disbelief.
“Do you understand my choice of the word ‘Jianghu’?”
“……I have no desire to hear the explanation.”
“Because our enemy draws no distinction between the orthodox and the unorthodox paths.”
“Curse it all……! This is precisely why I said I wished to remain ignorant!”
Moyong-gang slammed his fist against the tabletop, draining yet another vessel of spirits to suppress his mounting fury. Seeing that neither Jegal So-myeong nor Moyong-gang could easily master their distress, Hyeok Mu-gang offered a quiet, grounding explanation.
“This assessment is derived from the surviving archives of the Sim-hyeon Pavilion, an institution that nearly vanished five centuries ago. While it may not be flawlessly precise, I assure you it contains no hyperbole.”
With Hyeok Mu-gang confirming the gravity of the situation, the remaining masters fell into a stunned silence.
“Then…… it truly is an inevitable conflict?”
The crushing weight of their positions bore down upon them once more.
“If we refuse to stain our own hands with blood…….”
A grim vision of a fractured, ruined future played out clearly in their minds. And superimposed over that dark future were the bright, innocent faces of the younger generation, including Jin So-un.
“The lifeblood of our youth will form an ocean.”
Regardless of how many decades they had survived the trials of the martial world.
“Endless peaks constructed from the remains of our children will scar the landscape.”
The sheer scale of the nightmare, which they had never even conceived, filled them with profound dread. Yet, they understood that a far worse fate awaited them if they faltered.
“For that reason…… the task must be carried out.”
Such is the burden placed upon those who survive, the obligation of those destined to depart first. After a heavy silence enveloped the room.
“Kuuu…… I find myself wishing I were still a reckless youth; then I wouldn’t be burdened with a crisis that induces such a violent migraine.”
As Moyong-gang lamented his fate while emptying his cup, Hyeok Mu-gang offered a melancholy smile.
“Is it not simply the way of things? When has destiny ever aligned with our personal desires?”
The most perilous conspiracy in the land was thus forged among the four masters.
“I must insist upon one condition.”
Jegal So-myeong’s expression turned utterly rigid.
“Under no circumstances must this strategy be revealed to the outside world until every preparation is finalized.”
“Hah, do you take us for reckless children?”
If this perilous understanding shared between Hyeok Mu-gang and Jegal So-myeong were to be exposed prematurely, it was blindingly obvious that the Murim Alliance would tear itself apart in panic.
“…….”
It was a conversation that could only occur because chance had brought them together at the Tae-eul Sect, far away from the prying eyes of the Murim Alliance headquarters.
And then—
“Ahem.”
Hong Mun-gi, the Sect Leader of the Tae-eul Sect and the master of the Tae-eul Hall, who had been an involuntary witness to this entire earth-shattering and confidential discourse:
“If I may…….”
He was utterly bewildered as to why a strategy of such monumental importance was being decided within his humble meeting hall.
“Oh? Do you perhaps harbor a dissenting view?”
Faced with Jegal So-myeong’s direct inquiry, Hong Mun-gi hesitated for a moment before shaking his head.
“No.”
He realized he would appear incredibly foolish if he voiced his confusion in such a grave atmosphere. He offered a firm, solemn nod.
“I am entirely in alignment with your decision.”
“The Tae-eul Sect Leader has also signaled his concurrence.”
Following Jegal So-myeong’s declaration, the other three giant trees (Geo-mok) of the martial world nodded in approval.
“As expected of a leader who understands how to bide his time and look toward the distant horizon. If my own heir possessed even a fraction of the Tae-eul Sect Leader’s wisdom, I would have handed over the mantle of the Family Head long ago.”
“…….”
Despite the praise, he remained entirely mystified. Why on earth was he privy to these profound state secrets alongside these legends? Instead of dwelling on it, his thoughts drifted to his exceptionally bright and capable First Disciple, Jin So-un.
‘Come and rescue me, you wretched brat!’
He completely pushed aside his previous annoyance at the youth for causing him to miss the excitement of the martial tournament in the first place.
