The Price Of A Misjudgment (1)

“Come in.”

The old Taoist watched Sohee prostrate herself before him with a look of pity.

“I’m sorry. I failed again.”

As she admitted her failure, tension was written all over her face.

She knew it well—where she belonged, failure was not forgiven.

“No. How could that be your fault? I share the blame for misjudging Secret Shadow’s capabilities.”

The old Taoist soothed her. If he truly held full authority over the matter, he likely wouldn’t have pinned responsibility on Sohee.

“But Senior Brother…”

Sohee couldn’t finish.

There was something she still hadn’t reported.

Senior Brother Hwangbo Chu’s death—she hadn’t told anyone yet.

“Senior Brother? You mean Hwang, the Lord of the Bronze Command?”

“Yes.”

“What about him?”

“He’s dead.”

For a moment, the old Taoist couldn’t speak. The news was too unexpected. He had never once believed there existed anyone in the martial world who could do that to him.

“Don’t tell me… Secret Shadow did that too?”

He was startled, but he didn’t lose his composure.

“Yes. It seems they met—Secret Shadow returned, and Senior Brother didn’t.”

“Hm… Is Secret Shadow truly that strong? Very well. I’ll report it that way to the Mountain Lord. You return and await the Mountain Lord’s next order.”

“Yes.”

Sohee wanted to see the Mountain Lord—her former master’s reaction upon hearing of Hwangbo Chu’s death. No matter how the sect’s affairs came before everything, the dead man had once been his disciple.

“Headmaster!”

Sohee called out to the old Taoist.

Headmaster…? Headmaster of what sect, exactly?

“What is it?”

“Our Cheon-geum Domain will deal with Secret Shadow.”

“That won’t do. Cheon-geum Domain is too weak. You know Cheon-geum Domain has other work. Besides, the Lord of Hyeon-ok has already descended the mountain.”

“The Lord of Hyeon-ok?”

Sohee’s expression stiffened in surprise.

“You call Hwang, the Lord of the Bronze Command, ‘Senior Brother,’ but you don’t address the Lord of Hyeon-ok the same way. Anyway, since he’s gone personally, Secret Shadow won’t be able to interfere with our affairs any further.”

“….”

Sohee couldn’t say a word.

The Lord of Hyeon-ok had also learned martial arts under the man she now called the Mountain Lord—meaning he, too, was another of her senior brothers.

But there were people you simply could not bring yourself to care for.

He was exactly that sort.

From the moment she felt lust in the way his eyes raked over her, Sohee had avoided him on purpose. It was one reason she stayed on the mountain instead of handling outside work.

‘Hah…’

Just knowing the Lord of Hyeon-ok wasn’t on the mountain gave her a strange sense of relief.

‘Go on—die at Secret Shadow’s hands.’

She couldn’t show it, but that was the honest thought in her heart.

A sharp glint sparked in Sohee’s eyes.

She bowed to the old Taoist and withdrew—almost as if her steps had grown lighter.

“Wait.”

For some reason, the old Taoist called her back.

“…What?”

“I nearly forgot to mention it. You’ve gained a new junior.”

At his words, confusion filled Sohee’s face.

“A junior…? The Mountain Lord took in a disciple?”

“He did.”

At that answer, a strange expression twisted over Sohee’s face—anger, perhaps, or disbelief.

“Then why do you call him my junior? Have you forgotten? We are not the Mountain Lord’s disciples—only his subordinates.”

Sohee cried out as if in anguish. This was absurd. He had cast out perfectly fine disciples, and now he had taken in a new one.

Sohee knew all too well why the late Hwangbo Chu had wandered as he did.

A tree without roots could only fall.

“…Right. You are only subordinates. Like I am only the Mountain Lord’s subordinate… you are only subordinates. I forgot for a moment. I’m sorry. I said something needless and only hurt you.”

The old Taoist shook his head as he spoke.

“Headmaster—no. Eldest Senior Brother! We acknowledge we are brothers and sisters of the same line. But the Mountain Lord’s new disciple is not our junior. Hah, I don’t know who it is, but if he’s become the Mountain Lord’s disciple, then we should call him the Young Lord now. Hohoho!”

Sohee let out a bitter laugh and left.

“Haa… Even I can’t understand the Mountain Lord’s heart. Why he suddenly took in a disciple… I truly don’t know anymore whether our Taepyeong Sect is walking the right path.”

After Sohee departed, only the old Taoist’s deep sigh remained.

---

The Eastern Depot gathered information on the martial world with particular care. The Paeng Clan near Beijing and the Jinju Eon Clan were no exception.

Even within the Eon Clan, it was a closely guarded secret that they had practitioners of Gangsi Art—yet the Eastern Depot’s information web did not miss it.

And that knowledge had been carved into Neung Je-gang’s mind.

That was why, the moment Neung Je-gang saw the Cheon-gang Unit, he recognized what they were.

The Eon Clan’s Cheon-gang Unit, trained in Gangsi Art—and the Eon Clan head, infamous for his foul temper and impatience.

Between the two, which was more dangerous to fight?

“Cheong Yeon! Take the clan head!”

As the Cheon-gang Unit came flying in through the air, Neung Je-gang said urgently.

The yin toxin of Gangsi Art would be hard for Cheong Yeon to endure safely.

Of course, it was also beyond Cheong Yeon to face the Eon Clan head head-on without being overwhelmed.

But it was still a better choice than having him poisoned and unable to fight properly.

“Yes.”

Chae-chaeng—

From the start, Neung Je-gang decided to go hard.

They were opponents no one could afford to underestimate—and hadn’t he learned once, through blood, that underestimating an enemy in a fight to the death was itself a lethal poison?

Kwa-kwa-kwang!

The men who had been charging Cheong Yeon crashed into Neung Je-gang’s heavy strike and were flung away.

The Cheon-gang Unit’s faces changed instantly. They had no choice but to halt their offensive after a single blow.

They’d realized all over again this was no easy opponent.

“Be careful. He’s an absolute master.”

At someone’s shout, the Cheon-gang Unit’s movements grew cautious.

“Huh… So Gangsi Art truly is blade- and sword-proof.”

Neung Je-gang muttered in disbelief as he watched men who, despite being struck cleanly by the Mindless Sword, merely bounced away and rose again.

The moment Neung Je-gang intercepted the Cheon-gang Unit, Cheong Yeon advanced toward the clan head.

Jinju Eon’s clan head—by reputation and by everything else, he was a master Cheong Yeon could not match.

His chest tightened. He had fought before, but never a true one-on-one against someone on that level.

“So you’ll face me alone?”

Eon Cheong-gun drew a sharp breath at Neung Je-gang’s power, which had blown away the Cheon-gang Unit’s assault in a single strike.

Then, seeing Cheong Yeon approach, the anger that had briefly paused roared back to life.

“You killed my son—but you’ve got some spine.”

Cheong Yeon said nothing. He had no room to respond.

He was forcing his own spirit into shape.

To face an opponent he could not defeat—to survive—he had to pour everything into the moment.

Eon Cheong-gun also forced his anger down.

No matter how explosive and vicious his temperament was, he wasn’t the sort to lose all reason with an enemy in front of him.

Eon Cheong-gun’s hands gradually turned pale.

“Jade-Hand Art.”

From a distance, Paeng Do-wi screamed the name as if it were a shriek.

Jade-Hand Art—the Eon Clan’s secret technique—was so vicious that some even suspected it might be the legendary Art of the Great Smallness.

It was said no one in the current age could master it, because it was that difficult.

And yet now, on Eon Cheong-gun’s hands, Jade-Hand Art has surfaced again.

“Jade-Hand Art?”

Even while blocking the Cheon-gang Unit’s relentless attacks, Neung Je-gang heard the shout.

His gaze snapped toward Cheong Yeon without thinking.

This wasn’t in the Eastern Depot’s reports.

If what Eon Cheong-gun used was truly Jade-Hand Art, then Neung Je-gang had made a serious miscalculation.

Jade-Hand Art carried an even more vicious yin toxin than Gangsi Art.

Cheong Yeon couldn’t handle that.

Cheong Yeon hadn’t heard Paeng Do-wi at all. He was nearly completely locked onto Eon Cheong-gun’s movements.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Suddenly, thunder seemed to crack across the battlefield.

This time Paeng Do-wi’s eyes snapped toward the Cheon-gang Unit, still fighting Neung Je-gang.

His whole body began to tremble.

“Aaagh!”

“Kgh!”

Three Cheon-gang men—who had been taking sword blows, dusting themselves off, and standing back up—were now bursting apart.

For an instant, everyone froze.

The pale heat that had been rising along Eon Cheong-gun’s Jade-Hand Art fizzled out with a hiss.

Only Cheong Yeon still held his full focus on Eon Cheong-gun’s movement.

“S-s-sword aura…!”

Paeng Do-wi chattered his teeth.

Eon Cheong-gun’s mind went blank.

Sword aura was the worst possible outcome.

Neither Gangsi Art nor Jade-Hand Art could stand against that.

Even Eon Cheong-gun had never imagined the youthful-looking Neung Je-gang could wield sword aura.

After seeing him fly from the boat, he’d assumed it was merely exceptional lightness skill.

“K-kill him!”

Even while realizing Gangsi Art couldn’t withstand such an opponent, Eon Cheong-gun had no choice but to give the order.

There was nowhere to retreat.

If they pulled back now, Jinju Eon would be mocked across the martial world as cowards who fled when the enemy proved strong.

At minimum, if they all died here, people would still say the Cheon-gang Unit fell gloriously in battle.

He had raised the Cheon-gang Unit to revive the clan’s fortunes.

He could not allow them to step into the martial world for the first time only to become a laughingstock without even showing their strength.

Sss— papapat!

In the moment Eon Cheong-gun’s attention wavered from shock at sword aura, Cheong Yeon began his assault.

Cheong Yeon had been waiting for exactly this—Eon Cheong-gun’s spirit loosening, his body slipping out of alignment.

“Hk!”

Eon Cheong-gun retreated in haste, dodging Cheong Yeon’s attack.

He had no time to draw Jade-Hand Art back up.

Cheong Yeon’s strikes were sharp, fast, and filled with shifting variations.

Neung Je-gang saw it clearly.

As long as Cheong Yeon could keep the initiative, he didn’t look like he would be crushed easily.

“To break Gangsi Art, do I really have no choice but to use qi-aura?”

Neung Je-gang muttered, sweeping his eyes over the Cheon-gang Unit again.

Even after three of their comrades died, their expressions didn’t change.

“If they had revealed themselves officially to the martial world, the entire martial world would’ve been shaken.”

Few single factions possessed power on this scale—excluding coalitions like the Martial Alliance or the Black Dao Alliance.

The Cheon-gang Unit’s assault resumed—but this time, their movement was different.

“A formation…?”

Neung Je-gang’s greatest weakness: formations.

The Cheon-gang Unit surrounded him and formed a formation, using the sinister yin qi produced by Gangsi Art to restrict his movement.

But the real problem appeared elsewhere.

Five men peeled away from the formation and rushed toward Eon Cheong-gun, who was still being pressed by Cheong Yeon.

They intended to eliminate Cheong Yeon first.

Neung Je-gang felt a sticky pressure clamp down over his entire body.

The cold, yin formation qi flooded the space and began burrowing into him.

“How annoying.”

Regret rose in Neung Je-gang again.

“I should’ve studied formations earlier…”

Even while working for the Eastern Depot, he could’ve made time.

But he’d been satisfied with learning just enough counter-formation method to break the Hyeonhyeon Family’s formations.

He had known full well the Hyeonhyeon Family weren’t the only ones who used formations—yet he’d found study itself bothersome.

“Can Cheong Yeon hold?”

To break a formation by force would take time.

“Do I have to use a last resort?”

He wasn’t affected by Gangsi Art’s yin toxin.

If he shattered the formation, nothing would stand in his way.

“I’ll break the formation as fast as possible.”

Neung Je-gang reached a conclusion.

To do it, he would have to use martial arts he had kept hidden—taboo techniques that must not be exposed to the martial world.

But nothing mattered more than an ally’s life.

Cheong Yeon faced a crisis.

The thread of initiative he’d seized snapped as five men slammed in from the side.

It was already hard enough against Eon Cheong-gun alone.

With these strange men—against whom blades didn’t work—added to the mix, Cheong Yeon had no choice but to retreat and flee.

Eon Cheong-gun finally let out a rough breath.

Cheong Yeon’s offensive had been unexpectedly sharp, leaving him no opening to counter.

“No wonder Joseong couldn’t handle him.”

As he watched Cheong Yeon slip and weave even amid five attackers, Eon Cheong-gun muttered as if lamenting.

“But he’s already caught in Gangsi Art’s yin toxin. He won’t endure much longer.”

“Are you all right?”

Paeng Do-wi came up beside Eon Cheong-gun to ask.

His expression was strange.

‘Why does he look like that?’

It was a wary look… mixed with fear.

‘Ah—Jade-Hand Art.’

Eon Cheong-gun remembered Paeng Do-wi had seen the Jade-Hand Art he’d begun to raise.

Jade-Hand Art was the kind of technique that frightened anyone.

A faint satisfaction bloomed inside him.

Even if it was only Paeng Do-wi for now, soon the entire martial world would fear his Jade-Hand Art.

“I’m fine. But what about you—do you not intend to join this fight?”

Paeng Do-wi avoided his gaze.

At first, he’d wanted to jump in.

But what could he do, when no one here was weaker than him?

If you wanted to live long, you needed the talent to avoid danger on your own.

“I’ll… fight when my people arrive…”

“Remember this. If you avoid fighting alone again, the Paeng Clan and the Eon Clan will become enemies.”

Eon Cheong-gun pressed him—an implicit accusation about Joseong dying while Paeng Do-wi lived.

Ruuumble—

Just then, a sudden thunderous sound rolled in.

Eon Cheong-gun and Paeng Do-wi both turned toward the source.

Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwang— ppeo-peo-peo-puk!

Dust exploded upward—so thick it wasn’t even carried away by the river wind.

For a moment, they couldn’t see what had happened.

When the dust settled, Eon Cheong-gun’s eyes nearly bulged out.

What lay before him was even more shocking than Neung Je-gang’s sword aura.

“What… is this…?”

More than ten men—one corner of the Cheon-gang formation—had been blown apart into chunks and scattered away.

Those nearby were drenched red in a rain of blood.

And at the center of the shattered formation stood Neung Je-gang alone, staring calmly at the scene he had made.

“D-don’t tell me…”

Paeng Do-wi stammered, as if something clicked in his mind.

Eon Cheong-gun turned on him.

“What is it? Do you know something?”

“B-by… Thunderbolt Sovereign…!”

“Thunderbolt Sovereign? Damn it—Heaven-Shattering Thunderbolt Sovereign!”

At Paeng Do-wi’s words, Eon Cheong-gun realized what technique Neung Je-gang had used.

Only a forbidden art could blow away the Cheon-gang Unit in one strike.

Cheong Yeon—and the five Cheon-gang men pursuing him—also froze.

They too couldn’t look away from what Neung Je-gang had done.

Neung Je-gang walked slowly toward Cheong Yeon.

To break the formation, he had unleashed Heaven-Shattering Thunderbolt Sovereign.

This hadn’t even been his full power.

Even so, the formation the Cheon-gang Unit had built was completely smashed.

The surviving Cheon-gang members staggered backward.

Even men who boasted of invincibility through Gangsi Art couldn’t help but obey instinct when fear took hold.

“Do not retreat. You must not run.”

Eon Cheong-gun was the first to regain himself.

‘This is good. This is good.’

That was what his heart said.

‘The dead Cheon-gang are a waste, but this is a chance for our Eon Clan to leap upward.’

Heaven-Shattering Thunderbolt Sovereign was proof of a public enemy of the martial world.

And the first to discover it was Jinju Eon.

That merit would belong to Jinju Eon.

A chance for the Jinju Eon Clan—always treated as second to the Paeng Clan in Hebei—to strengthen its influence.

Whether they seized that chance would depend on what they did now.

They could not flee.

If they did, they would be laughed at across the martial world.

Even if the entire Cheon-gang Unit died here, even if he himself died, he could not show retreat.

“He is a public enemy of the martial world who has mastered a forbidden art. Even if we all die, we must not let him escape.”

At Eon Cheong-gun’s words, the Cheon-gang Unit, who had been overtaken by fear, steadied themselves.

Neung Je-gang wore a bitter smile at the words “public enemy.”

He had known this would happen—yet he had no choice.

Cheong Yeon couldn’t hold out for long.

“Captain!”

“Circulate your qi. You’ve been poisoned.”

“Poisoned? Ah… so that’s why my movement suddenly felt restricted?”

Cheong Yeon sat down on the spot and began circulating his qi.

While dodging the five men’s attacks, he’d felt his movements grow duller over time.

Now he finally understood it wasn’t fatigue—it was poison.

Gangsi Art’s yin toxin crept in like that, subtle and unseen.