The Eve Festival (1)

“Sect Master.”

The brush moving across the paper came to a stop.

“The Sword Lord has arrived.”

“Oh, really?”

Color returned to Beon Yu’s face.

“Show him in at once.”

A moment later.

Huk!

The air in the office sank all at once. It felt as if invisible shards of blades were flying through the once-quiet room.

Beon Yu bowed to the grizzled man who looked to be in his early fifties.

“You’ve come.”

“It’s been a while.”

His voice was viciously sharp.

Hoarse and rasping, yet cold at once. It was a voice that evoked the dry cutting-wind of winter.

“You must be tired from the long journey. I hope the road didn’t trouble you?”

“It was fine.”

“That’s a relief. Please, have a seat.”

The two sat down.

Beon Yu spoke with a smiling face the whole time.

“Your bearing seems even more outstanding than half a year ago.”

“You too look bright in complexion.”

“Ha ha, work is heavy so I’ve been taking all sorts of good tonics—seems it’s all turning into fat.”

“Even a head of a sect cannot be called a warrior if he lets go their martial art.”

It was a sharp rebuke.

Even a man of very good temper would find it hard to answer with a smile; Beon Yu managed the hard thing with ease.

“Quite true. It would be nice if my boy grew up fast and inherited my place, but for some reason he has no interest at all in the Sect Master’s seat.”

“Kang-yi is a born warrior unlike you. He won’t take interest in such complicated matters.”

“You’re right, Elder. But there’s no other talent fit to hand the Sect Master’s post to.”

“Then hire someone who’s good at work.”

Running a sect was not as easy as words made it.

Of course, Beon Yu did not go so far as to say that to the man before him. Whatever else, he was his son’s master. Besides, the Sword Lord’s name shook the eastern Murim.

He could not match him in martial strength, in ties, nor in fame, so all he could do was behave meekly.

“I’m working on it. Anyway, you must be weary from the road. How about sharing a drink with me after you wash up?”

The man, Mountain-Breaking Sword Lord, Dong Neung, shook his head.

“The festival is in less than ten days, how could I drink?”

Beon Yu’s eyes went round.

“Don’t tell me you plan to participate?”

“Nonsense. Even if the age limit were lifted, I’ve no thought to attend such a boring place.”

“Of course, but…”

“Boring or not, many masters come by out of curiosity. If I see someone usable, I might take him along and have some swordplay.”

He meant he would seize any decent warrior and force a duel.

A duel does not stand without the opponent’s consent. But Dong Neung had forced countless duels and won.

Because of that he had received far more than a few warnings from the Heavenly Will Alliance. It was only considered in his favor that over half of those he had fought had their names on wanted lists as villains.

Naturally, those on the wanted lists died to Dong Neung’s sword.

‘That bastard still hasn’t fixed that rotten habit.’

Beon Yu mocked Dong Neung inwardly.

To his eyes, what Dong Neung did was no different from a child throwing a tantrum.

He spared no thought for the feelings of opponents forced into a game they did not want to play. Children at least end in play, get caught on Dong Neung’s sword and your life might not remain whole.

‘Well, that nonsense did raise his fame.’

Beon Yu clicked his tongue inwardly.

Childish as it was, Dong Neung’s behavior had, in the end, brought him great renown.

In truth, many sects had reached out to take Dong Neung in, but he bowed his head to none.

Arrogant beyond measure though he was, some still gave him a thumbs-up, calling him a true warrior of the martial world.

Even now, it was astounding that such a man had become his son’s master.

‘Kang-yi, you brat—hurry up and wring out this old man’s martial arts. Only then can we cast him off later.’

However, Dong Neung did not pass down all his sword art to his disciple, saying there was nothing to gain at the current level anyway.

To Beon Yu, that reason was absurd; surely it was because he had something to gain on this side.

It was only vexing that he did not yet know what it was.

“Then please bathe and rest well.”

“I will. Ah—by the way.”

“Yes?”

Dong Neung asked, slightly askew.

“Is it all right here?”

“What do you mean…?”

“I heard something big happened in Sichuan this time. And that Red Sword Sect was involved.”

A small crack ran through Beon Yu’s smile.

How that old man who cared nothing for the world heard that rumor, he did not know.

Beon Yu quickly fixed his smile and waved his hand.

“It was a business misunderstanding. I never imagined those fellows were that sort of people.”

“Is that so?”

The corner of Dong Neung’s mouth curled mischievously.

Both knew it was nonsense. Even so, Beon Yu lied shamelessly.

“Fortunately, the Sichuan Branch acknowledged there was no intent. Truly, even sects with some history almost got swept into a mess.”

“I see.”

Red Sword Sect alone had a history close to a hundred years.

They were not comparable to the Black Tiger Fist Sect, but this hundred-year sect had almost vanished with a single corruption case. Beon Yu had expected they would survive, but it was hard to deny it was his tensest moment since ascending as Sect Master.

“Then it’s a relief that it was a misunderstanding.”

“Indeed.”

“Kang-yi is a fine talent. It would be a sad thing if such talent could not shine because of mismanagement of a sect.”

What he meant by that was to watch himself.

Beon Yu did not mistake his words. This man did not want a blemish on his own fame, not his disciple Beon Kang-yi.

He thought it petty of such a man to strut with such arrogance.

‘Well, the older you get, the only thing left is fame.’

Beon Yu understood Dong Neung—though that was separate from his hatred for him.

“I will keep it in mind.”

“I’ll go. I’ll wash, look around, and train. There’s no need to look for me if I’m not around.”

“Of course. I’ll remember.”

And so Dong Neung left the office.

Beyond the window, Beon Yu’s eyes slowly twisted as he watched Dong Neung’s back head toward the rear garden with measured steps.

‘What an ill-starred old geezer.’

If the Red Sword Sect had not lost part of its former martial arts, he would not have grabbed the hand of such a willful old geezer.

‘Does that old geezer know? He doesn’t, surely.’

Beon Yu let out a sigh without knowing.

‘This is why the weak are aggrieved.’

It had happened in his father’s generation. Naturally, Beon Yu could not fully learn the martial arts of the previous generation.

But that fact was kept in strict secrecy. Beon Yu almost never revealed his martial arts to the outside, either.

Amazingly, people believed Beon Yu possessed martial skill befitting the head of the Sichuan Eight Martial Houses.

Of course, that was not true. Even so, the reason he could be counted among Sichuan’s Ten Great Swordsmen was people’s vague assumption. How could the Sect Master of Red Sword Sect not be one of them?

Sadly, Beon Yu did not have that level. He was skillful enough to pass in Sichuan, but not enough to rank among the Ten Great Swordsmen.

So he even sold off the sect’s treasures to obtain elixirs. Thanks to that, in internal energy, he was likely deeper than the other heads of the Eight Martial Houses.

Only, the problem was he lacked a complete sword art to match that internal energy.

‘I just have to endure. In Kang-yi’s generation, Red Sword’s fame will rise to first in Sichuan.’

They said Dong Neung’s sword art was not much inferior to the ultimate techniques of the Nine Great Sects, called strongest in the martial world. That was said directly by a master from one of those sects who had watched him fight. With that statement, his fame rose all the more.

‘This Radiant Sword Festival, we must win no matter what.’

Cheering his son inwardly, Beon Yu sat back down.

Since he did not set his heart on martial arts, his politicking and handling of affairs had improved. If anything, that was a consolation.

As he busily sorted documents, Beon Yu tilted his head as if something came to mind.

“By the way, why is Black Tiger so quiet? By now that big tomcat should be asking me to share a drink.”

That night.

Near midnight, Jin-hyeon visited the house where construction had resumed.

“Nice.”

It was on a hill, so the moonlight was clear.

There were perhaps skilled craftsmen working on it. As in not even five days, it had become far more presentable than when he first saw it.

The materials were sturdy and its presence considerable. It was three stories tall, larger than most inns or taverns.

‘Even excluding a dining hall or rooms, a comfortable fifty people could live here.’

At this level, it was beyond sufficient for a first house.

However.

‘A building alone won’t be enough.’

He had already stepped into Murim.

Fighting was inevitable. He did not know what foes would arise, but if fights did not end cleanly, harm could reach this place.

Of course he would handle things to prevent that, yet one never knew with human affairs.

‘It’s about time to start preparing.’

This place was not simply a first house.

He now intended to found a clan. But the clan he meant to found was not one that merely built a fence and gathered people, as anyone would think.

A clan that did not care when, where, or in what form it resided.

He would bring in those who would live together here, but it did not matter if not. Jin-hyeon meant to see wider than others and, fanciful or not, push ahead for now.

As his imagination spread its wings, Jin-hyeon suddenly thought of something and laughed.

‘A clan without fences… Am I going to make all I see my clan? That’s no different from the Eight Wastes Alliance Leader.’

Perhaps he had been influenced by him.

Looking at the place that would be his first house, Jin-hyeon lifted his gaze back to the sky.

A lovely full moon hung high. Clouds drifted here and there, but they did not cover the bright moon.

The full moon was the symbol of the most flourishing Yin Qi.

He had prepared the past few days for today.

“Good.”

Sitting cross-legged with his back to the house, Jin-hyeon took a deep breath.

Woong! Wooong!

The Body-Refining Qi sleeping in his dantian writhed with excitement and unease.

He tried to draw Soul-Refining Qi from the brain gate to calm it, but it was not easy. As time passed, the Body-Refining Qi kept moving, trying to whirl through his whole body.

‘Do not worry. You are not disappearing, we are rising together.’

He let the Qi flow as it would.

Jin-hyeon no longer tried to soothe the Body-Refining Qi.

He took another deep breath and closed his eyes.

He cast off his unease and focused in an instant. The Body-Refining Qi hunched tight as well.

Jin-hyeon’s lips moved.

The mnemonic verse of the Heavenly Wolf Six Paths Divine Art, the Heavenly Wolf True Art, flowed out quietly.

Hwoong!

The wind brushing over the hill was bitterly cold.

How much time had passed?

Jin-hyeon’s shoulders twitched.

He drew invisible natural Qi and stored it in his dantian. The energy gathered there did not pile up as Body-Refining Qi, but changed into an unknown, mysterious energy.

Cheut-cheut-cheut!

At some point, a hot heat seeped out from Jin-hyeon’s body.

It was heat the cold Body-Refining Qi, nor the wind before winter, could not block.

That heat rapidly raised its temperature and began coveting the natural Qi Jin-hyeon drew in.

Chiiiik!

It boiled up like a scalding bath in an instant.

Jin-hyeon’s pale skin flushed red. His whole body trembled as if in an earthquake, and the Body-Refining Qi raged madly, pounding every part of him.

Saaaak!

Uncontrolled, the Body-Refining Qi rampaged in all directions.

The wayward Qi caused internal injury. Little by little, blood flowed from Jin-hyeon’s lips.

But the blood that spilled evaporated at once from the intense heat.

‘Hot.’

The Eight Wastes Alliance Leader had shifted over so softly and easily.

Jin-hyeon was different. The Eight Wastes Alliance Leader had mastered as he completed his divine art, but Jin-hyeon, after building the perfect foundation of the Body-Refining Art, was trying to convert all of that energy into the Heavenly Wolf True Art.

Terrible pain rose. Enough to make him wonder if he had ever felt such pain even when he had synchronized with the Eight Wastes Alliance Leader.

‘Come in.’

The flickering movement of the Body-Refining Qi slowed, little by little.

It turned light green, then blue, repeating; at some point even the speed of its flicker slowed.

‘It’s all right. It’s all right to enter this heat.’

Chiiiiiiik!!

All over Jin-hyeon’s body, Fwack!—flames caught.

Amazingly, though on fire, his clothes did not burn. Not even a smudge of soot appeared.

The Body-Refining Qi’s slowing movement at last stopped completely.

Jin-hyeon clenched his teeth.

‘Enter!’

Flash!

The boiling-bath-like energy swallowed the unmoving Body-Refining Qi in one gulp.

At that moment.

Ududuk!

From here and there in Jin-hyeon’s body came sounds of muscles and bones being twisted.