The man with bandages wrapped around both hands sat in the spectator stands, looking down at the empty martial arena.
The one who cautiously entered was Yeon Baegin.
“I am Yeon Baegin, master of the Hwangryong Martial Hall.”
First, he introduced himself to the man. Of course, the other party surely knew who he was. After all, he was sitting there in the place Yeon Baegin cherished and loved most.
Even so, the reason he greeted him was to show proper courtesy to this terrifying man.
Earlier, he had been so frightened upon seeing him that his memory had briefly cut off, and he had fled. That was how deeply the murderous aura this man exuded stirred primal fear.
“I have joined hands with the person underground, so I suppose that means I am on the same side as you as well.”
Normally, he should have run away. Even if he did not run, he should have hidden in his office and come out only after all this fighting was over.
But the final words the Fist Demon had spoken in his office had driven him to come here.
Did I not send out everyone who did not belong in hell? If you remained, then you remained because you belong in hell.
Yeon Baegin interpreted those words to mean that he intended to kill him. Now that the Demonic Cult had intervened, he knew this was not something that could be resolved by begging. In any case, they would take everything from him and kill him.
He judged that trusting the man underground would give him a greater chance of saving his life. And if this terrifying man before him was on the same side, perhaps he would get rid of those Demonic Cult bastards.
‘I will never give up.’
The reason the Demonic Cult bastards looked down on him, and the reason this man gazed at him with such contempt, was all because he was weak. It was because they did not acknowledge the master of a martial hall as a true martial artist.
‘If only I obtain the secret manual!’
He would work hard enough to die and become strong without fail. Then, in this very moment, he would meet those eyes looking down on him with contempt and say this:
—Lower your eyes.
Because he harbored this burning desire, he was able to stand there so confidently.
“The reason I came is to convey important information. Our opponents are people from the Demonic Cult.”
Even at the words Demonic Cult, the man showed no agitation whatsoever. Seeing that he was not surprised in the least, Yeon Baegin could tell that he already knew.
‘These bastards didn’t even tell me.’
It was uncomfortable to keep looking at the man, who still said nothing, so Yeon Baegin turned his gaze aside.
Here and there around them stood people who appeared to be the man’s subordinates. Their number reached several dozen. Instead of weapons, they wore fist gauntlets on both hands.
‘They are all fist art users.’
If there was a saying that subordinates resembled their leader, this was precisely the case it was meant for. Every one of the martial artists revealed an aura as cold as ice, without even a trace of mercy. Yeon Baegin could feel it. They were not ordinary subordinates, but killing weapons raised without any emotion at all.
‘Who on earth are you, that you do not even fear the Demonic Cult?’
Neither Yeon Baegin, nor the Fist Demon, nor the One-Flower Sword Venerable, nor anyone else knew, but only Geom Mugeuk knew his true identity.
One of the Twelve Kings, the Fist King, Gang Hu.
He was the Fist King, the last and twelfth of the Twelve Earthly Kings.
When they ruled the martial world, a saying had been popular.
The Twelve Earthly Kings begin with the sword and end with the fist.
Just because he was the last, the twelfth, did not mean his skill was last. Aside from the First King, the Sword King, their order had been decided regardless of skill.
In his life before regression, countless people had died at Gang Hu’s hands even after he ascended to the seat of Fist King. The martial artists of that era had lived in a time when no one could stop those fists imbued with innate killing intent.
Just then, Gang Hu’s gaze turned toward one place. It was the first moment emotion entered that indifferent expression.
When Yeon Baegin turned around, a young man was walking in. Around his hands were wound crimson bandages, as if they had been dipped in blood and pulled out. It was a stark contrast to Gang Hu’s white bandages.
“I have returned.”
When the man respectfully cupped his fist in greeting, Gang Hu nodded.
The aura of the newly arrived young man was no ordinary thing either, and he introduced the two people who had come with him.
“These are the ones dispatched to assist with this matter.”
Both looked young, but one of them was dressed in an unusual manner.
He wore red martial robes, and the shape of a ghost had been drawn on them in white lines. The moment Yeon Baegin saw that attire, he knew who the other party was.
‘Ghost Blade!’
He was an absolute master of the unorthodox faction, called Ghost Blade because he wielded his saber like a ghost.
‘Ghost Blade was that young? From what era is Ghost Blade?’
Could he have rejuvenated and returned to youth? Or had some other young expert imitated his clothing? Yeon Baegin could not know.
The other man had long, narrow eyes, and his hands and feet were unusually long. He did not wear his sword at his waist or on his back, but held it against his chest.
The two men were the sort whose appearances would not be easily forgotten after a single glance.
In Yeon Baegin’s eyes, Gang Hu seemed like someone who would not so much as greet anyone, and yet he accepted the two men’s greetings.
As the two respectfully cupped their fists, he too cupped his fists from where he sat. Seeing that, Yeon Baegin felt an even greater sense of humiliation. While he had been speaking so much, the man had only sent him a look of contempt.
After finishing their greetings, the three men passed by Yeon Baegin and walked toward the spectator seats beside where Gang Hu sat. As they went, they did not spare Yeon Baegin a single glance.
Yeon Baegin realized that one thing the terrifying demon had said was accurate. Cold and merciless. The people gathered here were well suited to hell.
And before he knew it, he himself had become someone who mingled with them.
It was just then.
Everyone’s gaze began to turn toward one place.
There were people walking toward them with an overwhelming presence.
The person in the lead was the Fist Demon, and to either side of him followed the One-Flower Sword Venerable and Ian. With these three walking over, how could all eyes not be drawn to them?
Even though there were dozens on this side, they strode forward without hesitation.
An immense murderous aura poured out from Gang Hu’s subordinates. It was the first time Ian had faced such powerful killing intent in actual combat.
Yeon Baegin, who stood closest, met the Fist Demon’s eyes. Yeon Baegin was afraid, but he did not want to be overwhelmed in spirit. So he did not avoid the Fist Demon’s gaze and stared back at him.
“Did you not say so yourself? That I belong in this hell too. Did you think I would run away in fear just because you are the Demonic Cult?”
The Fist Demon said nothing to him and looked at Gang Hu. Thinking he had been ignored yet again, Yeon Baegin flared up, but he did not dare argue while looking at that terrifying face.
At last, for the first time since Yeon Baegin had come here, Gang Hu opened his mouth. This was a man who had not even spoken to those dispatched to support him.
“Fist Demon, I have always wanted to see you at least once.”
The Fist Demon merely nodded once and did not ask who the other party was. He did not seem curious either.
Instead, the one who reacted to those words was Yeon Baegin. He was startled out of his wits.
‘What? Fist Demon? Did he say Fist Demon? That man was a Demon Venerable?’
He had thought he was merely an expert of the Demonic Cult. He had never dreamed that one of the Eight Demon Venerables of the Demonic Cult would have come here. And he had just spoken so boldly to such a person?
There was even more than one Demon Venerable.
“Even the One-Flower Sword Venerable. As expected, the Young Cult Leader is the Young Cult Leader.”
Yeon Baegin had no time to be shocked by the words One-Flower Sword Venerable. At the words Young Cult Leader, his mind went blank.
‘Young Cult Leader? What Young Cult Leader? Surely not the Young Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult?’
As Yeon Baegin nearly fainted from shock, the gazes of the Fist Demon and Gang Hu intertwined in midair. Yeon Baegin could tell that he truly was a Demon Venerable. The murderous aura of the fearsome Gang Hu no longer felt quite so terrifying when it met the Fist Demon. Killing intent and demonic energy stood taut against each other.
This time, the Fist Demon spoke for the first time.
“The martial hall is closed today.”
The Fist Demon slowly swept his gaze over all of them and spoke coldly. It was the sort of thing Yeon Baegin would have wanted to say even in his dreams.
“So from this moment on, everyone is to exit through the door we open.”
* * *
“We’re here, everyone get up!”
At the sound of someone waking him, Geom Mugeuk started and opened his eyes. The instant he did, a truly unexpected situation unfolded before him. It was the first time he had opened his eyes after being absorbed into the secret coffer.
Rattle, rattle.
The place he was in was a moving carriage.
A foul smell hit him all at once. A dozen or so men were packed tightly together in the cargo compartment of a carriage without even a window.
Seeing that they all wore swords, it did not seem they were being dragged somewhere.
‘Did some formation activate inside the secret coffer?’
A dangerous formation that threatened him?
But when he had been sucked into the secret coffer, he had felt extremely calm and pleasant. It had not seemed as if the secret coffer was trying to kill him.
Geom Mugeuk first examined the condition of his body.
He checked first whether his arms and legs were properly attached. Arms normal, legs normal. His eyes saw well, and his ears heard well.
His body was in good condition. The problem was his internal energy.
He had only about as much internal energy as someone who had trained for a few years. It was not enough to use the Nine Flames Demonic Art or the techniques of the Flying Heaven Sword Art.
‘Thank goodness, thank goodness.’
It was fortunate that he had even a few years’ worth. Even a handful of internal energy could allow one to avoid death in a crisis. That was the level of his skill.
Next, he examined his sword. It was not the Black Demon Sword, but an ordinary iron sword. Of course, once he escaped this place, it would turn back into the Black Demon Sword. Only one thing remained unchanged. The secret coffer was still in his breast pocket.
‘Secret coffer, what sort of test is your father trying to put me through?’
Geom Mugeuk thought this situation was some kind of test the secret coffer was giving him.
If this was the secret coffer’s test?
There would definitely be a way to clear it, and there would definitely be a reward as well. Yes, he should think positively.
Shrrng.
Geom Mugeuk drew his sword slightly and reflected his face in it.
‘It’s my face.’
For now, he had not entered someone else’s body.
Seeing that, the man sitting in front of him asked Geom Mugeuk,
“What did you say your name was?”
He was the owner of the voice that had woken him a moment ago.
After wondering what he should answer, Geom Mugeuk decided that, in this place, he was a body that would vanish like smoke anyway.
“Geom Yeon.”
“Your first time?”
He had no idea what exactly was supposed to be his first time, but.
“It is.”
“I knew it. I told them so many times not to let rookies volunteer.”
Hearing the word volunteer, he roughly understood the situation.
“I wasn’t told that.”
“If you don’t keep your head on straight, you’ll die. Rookies like you are the first to get killed.”
“I’ll keep my wits about me.”
He had truly never dreamed the secret coffer would absorb him, and now, to make matters worse, he was in this situation?
Suddenly, he thought of the Sword King outside.
‘If he saw me get sucked in here, he won’t just stand by, will he?’
What worried him was that the Sword King might destroy the secret coffer in an attempt to rescue him, but that probably would not happen.
Not only was he not that reckless by nature, but since he had seen Geom Mugeuk being absorbed, he would be certain that this lump of metal had truly been the intended object.
He was probably trying to find a way inside somehow.
But Geom Mugeuk had a feeling he would not be able to enter. He suspected that one needed to have the secret coffer he possessed, or else have the energy absorbed by the secret coffer inside one’s body, in order to enter.
He had clearly been invited by the secret coffer.
At last, the carriage came to a stop.
The curtain was drawn back, and dazzling sunlight poured in.
“Now, everyone get down!”
Geom Mugeuk got out of the carriage. It was a vast plain below a mountain, with dozens of tents spread out and hundreds of martial artists coming and going.
People shouting, people carrying the wounded, people running somewhere. From the sight, he could tell immediately.
‘It’s a battlefield!’
Those who had come in the carriage with him had all volunteered for the war.
“Now, you lot are this way.”
The martial artist who took charge of them divided the people who had arrived by carriage among several tents.
“New recruits.”
Geom Mugeuk also entered one of those tents.
Inside were three or four martial artists. Some were sleeping, some were eating something, and one sat on a cot, maintaining his weapon. All of them had weary, exhausted faces.
One of the men frowned when he saw Geom Mugeuk.
“Damn it! They sent another rookie.”
He still did not know why he had ended up in such a situation, but as always, Geom Mugeuk did his best in the circumstances he faced.
“I am Geom Yeon. Fortunately, I have very good luck. I’m sure I’ll be of help.”
At that, the man who had scowled and called him a rookie rose from his cot, picked up a leather pouch from the corner, and thrust it at Geom Mugeuk.
“I am Jeong Dae, your superior and the leader of White Tiger Seventeenth Squad. Stop talking nonsense and just listen to me from now on! Understood?”
“Yes!”
“Your spot is over there.”
He was assigned an old, shabby cot roughly carved from wood.
Geom Mugeuk considered trying to learn the situation from Jeong Dae, but for now, he decided to inspect the outside first and left the tent.
‘By the way, where is this?’
He had traveled all over the Central Plains, to every sort of place, but this place was unfamiliar. If this was a world created by the secret coffer anyway, it could all be an illusory world.
But for that to be the case, far too many people were speaking and moving like real human beings.
‘Secret coffer, what do you think of this situation? Is this a test where I have to survive in this war?’
No, it could not be such an easy test. With his martial arts, even without internal energy, how could he fail to survive?
It was just then.
“It’s the Martial Alliance Leader!”
“The Alliance Leader has arrived!”
Geom Mugeuk was startled by the cheers around him. The martial artists began running in a rush.
‘Alliance Leader Jin came here?’
Geom Mugeuk ran toward the place where the martial artists were gathering.
A middle-aged man in long robes embroidered with a dragon and a tiger was walking toward them.
An absolutely overwhelming presence!
The moment he saw him, Geom Mugeuk was shocked. He was not the Martial Alliance Leader Jin Paecheon that Geom Mugeuk knew.
The surrounding martial artists all cheered toward him and shouted in unison.
“Martial Emperor Divine Sword! Martial Emperor Divine Sword!”
At the words Martial Emperor Divine Sword, Geom Mugeuk was startled. The Martial Emperor Divine Sword was someone he knew as well. No, to be precise, someone he had heard of.
After all, he had been one of the most famous alliance leaders in the history of the Martial Alliance.
Geom Mugeuk understood. The place where he had awakened was not his own era.
This was the martial world of three hundred years ago.