Threads Of Ill Fate (1)

The Radiant Sword Festival changed its venue each time. Since it was a duel tournament directly overseen by the Sichuan Branch, they feared that holding it in only one place would draw money and people there excessively.

It was killing work for the branch staff who had to plan the event every three years, but thanks to that, the historic festival was not exploited for politics.

This Radiant Sword Festival was held in Myeonyang County.

Beyond a tract of land along a fairly large river, several arenas were set up, and at the center a large high stone platform was piled up to make the main-round stage.

Around the arenas where the preliminaries were held there were no particular spectator stands. You simply went and watched on a first-come basis. However, in case of contingencies, branch warriors and Investigation and Defense Court constables were deployed to control the crowd.

The main stage was different.

As a stage for the strong, it was set broader than the training grounds of most mid-sized sects. Since falling off the arena meant defeat anyway, it was made especially wide so that at least the main round participants could fight to their hearts’ content.

Beyond the arenas, countless merchants had set up stalls along the streets. Inns and restaurants had been packed thanks to people who had arrived a month earlier.

Where people gather, money gathers as well. The Radiant Sword Festival was a festival of martial artists and a festival of merchants.

“Phew.”

From the low mountain top, looking down over Myeonyang County, Jin-hyeon grumbled as if overwhelmed.

“There are ridiculously many people. Even from this far you can see the people moving.”

Paak!

Seol So-ha arrived right after.

“Hoo.”

“You came.”

“Teacher, you are truly fast.”

Jin-hyeon looked back.

Han Cheol-sang and Im Yeo-wol were running from far off.

Han Cheol-sang’s movement art overflowed with ease. His motion was natural as if not taxing at all.

By contrast, Im Yeo-wol looked quite strained. Her expression was slightly twisted and much strength had left the arms that churned the air.

Ordinarily Han Cheol-sang would have arrived almost at the same time as Jin-hyeon. Seeing Im Yeo-wol fall behind, he followed from the rear for her sake.

A moment later.

“Hoo, hoo.”

Arriving at the summit, Im Yeo-wol grabbed her knees and gasped for breath.

Jin-hyeon patted her shoulder.

“You are short on stamina. Even if your arrest was long, this is a bit much.”

“Cough! I am sorry.”

“If you are going to repay your debt, you must build ability to match. I will teach you one by one, so stake your life and work.”

“Yes.”

“A quarter of an hour.”

When Jin-hyeon pressed her shoulders down to seat her, Im Yeo-wol immediately closed her eyes and began circulating qi, intending to settle breath and internal energy within a quarter.

“Is Lady Seol all right?”

“I am fine.”

It was not a mere phrase; she truly looked fine. She almost let her breath falter at the end, but considering she had kept her internal-energy expenditure to an extreme minimum, it was no exaggeration to call it iron stamina.

It was thanks to nearly three months of desperate training. Even before, her level was among the top late-generation prodigies of Sichuan, but now she had surpassed even that level, so her result at the Radiant Sword Festival was truly something to look forward to.

Gazing calmly down at Myeonyang County, Seol So-ha suddenly looked at Han Cheol-sang.

He watched the lay of the mountains with arms crossed. He was not particularly expressionless, yet his feelings were hard to read.

‘To think the dumpling-shop owner would be such a formidable master.’

She recalled when Jin-hyeon had brought the owner at dawn today.

Startled, she had greeted him, but the owner’s response differed from before. In the shop he had looked so genial, but then he was rather stiff.

Even granting that, when he suddenly said to go by movement art, she had worried how the owner would fare, but that was a huge needless fear.

The owner was a master. A master strong beyond what she could imagine.

While running together until now, she could scarcely read the internal energy of this kindly seeming dumpling-shop owner. It meant he kept pace with the party using only a minute amount of internal energy.

‘And they said eccentrics and recluses are as many as grains of sand in the Kangho.’

Jin-hyeon, and Han Cheol-sang.

They were masters unknown to the world. For some reason, Seol So-ha felt ashamed of her own skill.

“Hoo.”

Before even a quarter passed, Im Yeo-wol stood.

“Are you good?”

“Yes.”

“Your recovery at least is fast, good. Now, we go without resting.”

Pabababak!

The four men and women stamped the ground and shot off.

“You are Seol So-ha, first daughter of the White Sword Seol Clan, correct?”

He forced himself to speak stiffly, but the registrar’s voice shook as if an earthquake had struck. He was flustered by Seol So-ha’s stunning beauty.

“That is correct.”

She took out a neatly folded document from her bosom and handed it over.

There are often cases of people impersonating famed sects or martial families. At the Radiant Sword Festival, to prevent that they asked each sect its intent to participate, and once confirmed sent out a permit.

The registrar looked over the permit and nodded.

“Confirmed. Did you come alone?”

Seol So-ha pointed to three people.

“I came with our clan’s honored guests.”

The registrar’s expression turned odd.

It was because of none other than Jin-hyeon. His well-dressed attire and a big sword on his back looked very stalwart, but the problem was his hair.

‘White hair?’

It was perfectly white hair without a single black strand.

‘Is it dyed?’

The registrar clicked his tongue inwardly.

He had heard much that young martial artists these days cared more for looks than martial arts. Those from wealthy sects even wore bracelets or necklaces that did nothing for training.

This young man was likely similar. Thinking so, he suddenly worried for the future of the Kangho when he himself had not even learned martial arts.

‘But honored guests? Except for that extremely plain-looking man, the other two are very young. Are they from some famous sect?’

At that moment, Jin-hyeon spoke languidly.

“Is there something on my face?”

The registrar started and coughed.

“No. Please state your names.”

“I am Jin-hyeon. This is Jeong Gyo. This is Im Yeo-wol.”

“…Ah, yes.”

Grumbling inwardly that youngsters these days were surely ill-mannered and that he ought to learn martial arts out of spite, the registrar suddenly tilted his head.

‘Jin-hyeon? I have heard that name often somewhere.’

The registrar cautiously raised his head.

Almost at the same time, Jin-hyeon saw the emblem engraved on the registrar’s left chest.

“You are with the Finance Hall?”

“…Yes?”

“It seems the branch’s manpower shortage is serious too. They sent a Finance Hall member to work as registrar.”

“Ah, yes.”

“By the way, I wonder if Gwan Hong is doing well. I have not heard he was executed.”

In that instant the registrar’s face turned pale.

Even if others in the Sichuan Branch might not know, a Finance Hall member could not but know the name.

‘Heuk!’

Come to think of it, he had heard that the hair of the youth, Jin-hyeon, was half-white. Not half white like the usual saying, but literally with only the left side of his hair white.

‘Could he be the one who smashed the Mighty Tiger Merchant Guild?’

He got so startled that he almost sprang up. He coughed again and nodded. Each nod creaked as if rusted at the neck.

“Y, you may go in.”

“Thank you for your work.”

Seol So-ha, Han Cheol-sang, and Im Yeo-wol went in one after another.

Jin-hyeon looked blankly at the registrar. The registrar gulped.

“D-do you have business with me?”

“…”

“Young hero?”

Jin-hyeon smiled.

“You are working hard.”

“N-no.”

“Is the Finance Hall at peace these days?”

“Of course. It’s at peace. There is no one taking bribes at all.”

It was an extreme overreaction. Even after speaking, the registrar did not realize what he had said.

Jin-hyeon waved his hand.

“See you later.”

“Y, yes!”

Once even Jin-hyeon had gone inside, a sigh of relief flowed from the registrar’s lips.

‘My heart almost fell out.’

Rumor is like a word without feet and a wind without sound. The higher-ups had ordered everything regarding Jin-hyeon kept strictly secret, but those who would know, knew. Of course, as quite some time had passed since the Mighty Tiger incident, there were hardly people who still spoke his name.

‘I heard that he’s practically a demon in human form.’

Rumor said he bare-handedly subdued and apprehended a top-class assassin under Gwan Hong. Even the Chief Constables of the Investigation and Defense Court supposedly marveled at that skill.

Tracing a few more rumors related to him, the registrar involuntarily shuddered. It was because Jin-hyeon’s smile came to mind.

It was clearly a handsome face with a drawn-on smile, yet somehow it looked vicious.

Quickly wetting his throat with water, the registrar cried out in a trembling voice,

“Please enter!”

“Huh.”

Facing the swarming masses, Jin-hyeon unwittingly swallowed empty air.

“It was like that even from afar, but it is truly tremendous.”

Each of the five branching roads was wide enough for two huge carriages to run side by side with room to spare.

Even so, the people were packed tight. At the slightest misstep, it felt like your shoulder would bump the person next to you.

The marketplace before the Seol Clan was like that too, and he wondered whether Sichuan had this many people.

“Patriarch.”

“Mm?”

Han Cheol-sang asked,

“Why did you do that?”

It was because when giving names to the registrar, he had said Jeong Gyo, not Han Cheol-sang.

“Why? Was it needless meddling?”

“…No.”

“Meddling or not, it cannot be helped. I already blurted it out.”

He had considered it on his own way. Han Cheol-sang gave a wry smile.

“I made you worry for nothing.”

“Enough of that talk, Brother Han. Take in the crowd too. There are so many people that it’s creepy.”

Shivering, Jin-hyeon suddenly asked Seol So-ha as if remembering,

“By the way, do they give permits to all participants?”

“Not necessarily. Wandering martial artists without an affiliated sect can also participate freely.”

“They can participate freely… then do they accept all participation requests?”

“Those who have caused great trouble in the Kangho or whose names are on warrants cannot participate. A known master may bring a witness and enter at once, and the rest must undergo the Ground Division tournament.”

“Ground Division tournament?”

“Because the number of participants must not be too many. They take participants until midnight after opening, and if the number of contestants exceeds the plan, they adjust the count through the tournament.”

“So they cull once before the preliminaries?”

“…You could see it that way.”

“Ground Division, what an irritating name to give it.”

Seol So-ha’s face turned awkward again.

“Then that Ground Division tournament is tomorrow, and the preliminaries start the day after?”

“If there is no Ground Division tournament they go straight into the preliminaries. Even if they hold it, the preliminaries begin in the afternoon.”

“Either way, it means we can rest today.”

“That is so.”

Jin-hyeon looked at Im Yeo-wol.

For her, who had gone many places under Gwan Hong’s orders, a sight like this was not that surprising. She had in fact seen the last Radiant Sword Festival.

Only now she was freer than then.

“Yeo-wol.”

“Huh? Me?”

“I’m hungry, shall we eat first?”

“Understood.”

“I asked you, and you say understood. What kind of conversation is that?”

Snorting a laugh, Jin-hyeon spoke to Seol So-ha.

“Let us eat first and look around. I will faint from dizziness before watching the arenas.”

“Understood.”

As the party was about to turn down the left road,

“Sis?”

Seol So-ha turned her head.

A man and a woman were approaching along the third main road.