Two months had already passed since the raid took place.
The season, which had felt close to early spring, was already approaching summer.
Just as quickly as the season seemed to have flown by.
During that time, quite a lot had happened in Hannam, including the Divine Dragon Hall.
If one were to ask what the greatest of those events was,
the first would undoubtedly be that the Divine Dragon Hall had been shut down.
Word had already spread far and wide throughout the Central Plains that the Divine Dragon Hall had been attacked by a group of demonic martial artists.
Even if the Alliance side had tried to suppress the information, it was impossible to stop it all when the mouths of those who had experienced it were more than just one or two.
No matter how much the Beggar Sect was called the eyes and ears of the Martial Alliance,
they were still an information organization, and with profit relationships involved, they could not possibly block everything.
Consequently, the Divine Dragon Hall was closed while facing various accusations.
The reason given was a temporary closure for building repairs and due to the aftermath of the raid,
but people had more or less expected it.
They knew that because of this incident, the Divine Dragon Hall likely would not open for several years to come.
Moreover, there was a chance it might never open again.
Even the Dragon-Phoenix Conference and the Martial Arts Tournament scheduled for this year were unlikely to take place.
That was how significant this incident was.
The second matter concerned the things the Martial Alliance had begun to handle.
This was after the Martial Alliance had belatedly sent support.
They immediately brought in physicians and began treating the wounded,
and first gathered the bodies, storing them—or so it was said—in the Martial Alliance’s basement, in a place filled with cold air.
The bastards who had carried out the raid were dragged off to the torture chamber,
while the survivors who had endured the raid were simultaneously provided lodging by the Alliance side.
Up to this point, one could say they had handled things reasonably well.
But the problem came after.
No matter what measures were taken, in the end, no one could replace the dead.
Moreover, most of those who had perished in the raid were junior disciples of low realm.
They generally belonged to merchant guilds—places that had provided a great deal of support to the Martial Alliance.
The mass death of the heirs of such merchant guilds meant
the financial channels flowing to the Martial Alliance would be twisted.
Of course, there were still plenty of guilds that would continue to support them, but
there were also those that would not,
which inevitably caused problems for the influence vested in the Alliance.
Furthermore, among the dead were not only the heirs of merchant guilds,
but also disciples of the Nine Great Sects and One School, and blood relatives of renowned clans.
From the Martial Alliance’s standpoint, it was not merely a mess, but a complete disaster.
Therefore, the Martial Alliance had cancelled all festivals and upcoming schedules.
And there was already plenty of talk in the Central Plains as it was.
-While young martial artists met their tragic deaths, what had the Martial Alliance been doing?
-The raid occurred in Hannam, where their headquarters is, yet their response was far too slow.
-What had the Alliance Leader and the Martial Alliance’s martial artists been doing to let things turn out this way?
And so on.
Over the past two months, what had begun to spread throughout the Central Plains was none other than the theory of the Martial Alliance’s incompetence.
Ordinarily, the merchant guilds that sponsored the Alliance would not have wanted such rumors to spread,
so not only the Beggar Sect, but they as well would have joined hands to suppress them.
But the fact that things had come to this meant that they, too, had turned their backs to some extent.
There was once a saying that the Martial Alliance existed because the Orthodox faction existed,
and that the current peace endured because the Martial Alliance was there.
Those shallow words began to crumble from a single raid carried out by the Black Dragon Sword.
A raid that ended in less than a single day, at that.
Of course, though it was a raid that ended before a day had passed,
the people entangled within and the resulting situation were by no means trivial.
Even now, two months after the raid had ended,
"The Qinghai First Sword was defeated; how could such a thing happen...?"
The story of that time was a matter of interest to countless people.
The majority of them spread out their drinks from broad daylight and engaged in idle chatter.
The talk coming out of their mouths recently had been of one thing.
"Didn't they say it was because he had to protect the other disciples right then?"
"No matter what, losing to a mere demonic faction member... Tsk, even Kunlun’s sun has set."
"Hah, who are you to talk of setting and rising suns when you’re a fellow who couldn’t even make third-rate and quit swinging a sword?"
"Hey! My leg was injured, so I couldn’t help it!"
"I suppose so. Is it something to be proud of that you tripped and fell running away from a wild boar? You were hopping around just fine a few days later."
"...Ahem."
While the middle-aged man clicked his tongue, he swallowed his words at what another person said.
"Sheesh. Anyway...! The Martial Alliance was the Martial Alliance in the old days! It’s not anymore, I’m telling you!"
"This guy’s starting again, bring some cold water!"
-Yes sir!
The waiter answered brightly and went to fetch water.
"If the Martial Alliance was so great, huh? They would have stopped the raid and everything else."
"They’re the ones responsible for our lives, so please, stop complaining."
"Responsible for our lives my ass. They couldn’t even take care of their own brats and held rites... ugh!"
As the middle-aged man began to cross the line, the young man urgently reached out and covered his mouth.
"Are you really crazy, mister...! What if a Martial Alliance martial artist hears you!"
"Ptooey! So what if they hear me! It’s not like I’m lying!"
"Ugh..."
The young man clutched his forehead.
The middle-aged man wasn’t wrong.
They had indeed held rites in the Alliance for the dead.
"Besides. They must have announced a gathering because they know they’re in trouble too."
The middle-aged man grumbled.
The Martial Alliance had announced to the entire region that an Orthodox faction gathering would be held in seven days,
and perhaps because of that, in Hannam, people who were rarely seen had begun to appear.
From two months ago,
after receiving the notice sent in advance by the Alliance, people had started arriving to attend.
There were even people from merchant guilds whose names alone would widen one’s eyes,
people from the great houses known as renowned clans,
and martial arts factions that appeared to be among the Nine Sects and One School.
Though they lived in different regions and used different martial arts,
they had one thing in common.
"Their expressions are all rotten, every single one."
"Of course they’re rotten. More than rotten, even."
That was, their expressions were heavy and dark.
It couldn’t be helped.
How could it be otherwise when their own children or martial brothers sent to the Divine Dragon Hall had died in a sudden raid?
The fact that they did not easily vent their anger itself showed considerable patience.
The middle-aged man, drinking with his food, asked the young man,
"Who are the ones coming this time?"
"I don’t know. I’m too busy making a living to know all that."
The young man laughed briefly.
"Ah, but I heard Wudang is coming."
Only a few among the Nine Sects and One School had expressed intent to attend the gathering.
There were not many among the Nine Sects and One School that were close to the Martial Alliance to begin with,
and the factions under the Nine Sects and One School that had sent disciples to the Divine Dragon Hall
were only Wudang and Huashan.
The Wudang Sect had always been close to the Martial Alliance, so they tended to send people whenever one was held.
As for the Huashan Sect, it was somewhat unusual.
Rumors circulated that the Hall Master had been Kunlun’s Qinghai First Sword, which was why they had permitted it.
"Then Huashan isn’t coming?"
"I don’t know. That’s as far as I know."
As for Wudang, they had their own disciples among the casualties,
and being close to the Martial Alliance, it was natural they would attend if a gathering was held.
But the Huashan Sect was hard to predict.
"Anyway... this is a really big deal this time. I hope there won’t be a bloodbath for a while, not to mention the sounds of mourning."
"For us, isn’t it nice to see sights we don’t normally see?"
"Well, I suppose..."
Soon, the heads of what are commonly called the Four Great Families would appear as well.
To ordinary people, the heads of the Four Great Families, not to mention their blood relatives, were like people living in the sky.
They were not people one could see just anywhere.
"Of all times, the accident had to happen when the precious bloodlines of the Four Great Families were all there..."
People were saying this was an unprecedented generation.
It was a time when geniuses and all manner of talents, enough to be called the Meteor Generation, were bustling about, and the especially outstanding among them had all gathered at the Divine Dragon Hall.
"Sigh, tsk tsk..."
"But it’s not like nothing was gained from this, right?"
The middle-aged man immediately knew what the young man meant.
"Going to bring that up again?"
"Uncle Chu talks about the same things every day too."
"You only talk about that every day. At least I mix in other things."
"Because no matter how much you say it, you never get tired of it."
It wasn’t that nothing had been gained.
The meaning of those words was that
among the junior disciples who had coldly perished in the raid and the martial artists who had strived to protect them,
a figure who shone exceptionally bright had appeared and become known.
They say heroes appear in times of chaos.
Those words fit perfectly.
"That damn True Dragon... Are you not sick of him yet?"
"It’s more interesting than you cursing the Martial Alliance every day, Uncle Chu."
"Haha, you rotten brat."
True Dragon (眞龍).
Along with the news that the Divine Dragon Hall had been attacked,
what had begun to spread far and wide through the world was none other than stories about him.
He had already been a famous figure.
The last of the Six Dragons and Three Phoenixes, called the symbol of the Meteor Generation.
A junior disciple who had reached the peak at a young age,
and was famous for his overwhelming might even among the junior disciples.
He was the protagonist of this rumor.
"Isn’t it amazing? They say he hasn’t even passed his coming-of-age yet."
"...Well, it is amazing, I suppose."
The rumors said he alone blocked half of the demonic martial artists who attacked the Divine Dragon Hall,
and captured the Demon Head who had defeated the Qinghai First Sword, making him kneel.
Hearing this, the middle-aged man clicked his tongue and spoke to the young man as if he couldn’t believe it.
"How old are you to still believe in such things?"
"Are you going to say it’s just a false rumor again?"
"No matter how many times I hear it, it’s a rumor without a shred of realism."
The middle-aged man poured another cup of liquor into his mouth and continued.
"The Qinghai First Sword was defeated, which means the Demon Head is a martial artist who has reached the Transformation Realm. Then are you saying that this junior disciple called the True Dragon has also ascended to the Transformation Realm?"
"..."
"Say something that makes sense! Tsk, tsk! Even if he really made him kneel, he probably just approached an exhausted opponent and delivered the final blow."
A junior disciple who was said to have not even passed his coming-of-age having reached the Transformation Realm?
That would truly be the sun rising in the west.
"And he killed all the demonic martial artists by himself? This is the most exaggerated hyping I’ve ever seen."
"Well, it could be true. Why do you only see things negatively?"
"Give me something believable to trust, you brat! I didn’t think the Gu family was that bad, but they’re worse than I thought."
The middle-aged man naturally thought the rumors had been spread by the Shanxi Gu family, the True Dragon’s clan.
Most who heard the rumors thought that while the martial artist called the True Dragon was outstanding, he was absolutely not as great as the rumors claimed.
No matter how one heard it, it was an absurd story.
The young man furrowed his brow, seemingly displeased by the middle-aged man’s words.
"Oho? Look at that expression."
"No matter what, how long ago are you talking about the True Dragon? As for the True Dragon..."
"Are you going to make a fuss over that now?"
"You should do things properly."
At the young man’s words, the middle-aged man made an expression of disbelief.
"How long has it been since his nickname changed, seriously."
"Why are you the one getting angry? This kid is unbelievable."
Indeed, after that incident became known, the True Dragon had received a new nickname.
Because what he accomplished alone was so great and intense,
those who heard the rumors had naturally changed it.
This was tantamount to saying that the True Dragon was no longer a junior disciple.
"What was the nickname again...? I heard it before."
While the middle-aged man was faltering, the young man couldn’t hold back and spat out,
"You can’t even remember that? It’s obviously So-..."
Click.
The moment the young man was about to say it to the middle-aged man,
someone entered the inn.
Naturally, those in the dining hall turned their gazes toward the source of the sound.
Under normal circumstances, they would not have paid it any mind,
but for some reason, cold air rushed in the moment the inn’s door opened.
"Hoo..."
The young man, about to speak, had to swallow his words when he saw the figure who had entered through the door.
It wasn’t just the young man. Even those who had been chatting noisily held their breath upon seeing the face of the woman who had just entered.
"...Tsk."
The woman clicked her tongue as she felt the gazes pouring down on her after entering the inn.
She would normally have worn a veil,
but this time she had forgotten to bring it.
While the woman displayed her discomfort, the waiter quickly ran over.
"W-welcome."
"Can you give me what I ordered in advance?"
"Ah...! Yes, I’ll bring it right away!"
At her words, the waiter ran back to the kitchen
and brought over something steaming, handing it to the woman.
It turned out to be dumplings.
The woman checked the food, then gave the waiter a silver coin and moved to leave.
A silver coin for a few dumplings? What the...
Amidst the questions filling the air, the woman simply walked away gracefully.
Until the moment the woman reached the door and closed it,
everyone in the inn was looking only at her back.
Slap.
The moment the sound of the door closing was heard,
held breaths burst out from everywhere.
"Wow, she’s incredibly beautiful. How does a woman like that exist?"
"...She obviously looks like she’s from a noble house; what is she doing here?"
The young man, forgetting what he had been saying, held this question.
The waiter, who had come to bring other side dishes, passed on the words.
"Ah, she’s a frequent customer."
"Hm? I’ve never seen her before. I’m here every day during the daytime."
"Uncle Chu, you only come during the day. She comes at night."
"Huh? At night?"
"Yes. She comes to buy dumplings and leaves."
"Dumplings...?"
The young man tilted his head.
Was she someone of unexpectedly simple tastes? Why come buy dumplings in the middle of the night?
It was also strange that she came herself when she could just send a servant.
Perhaps noticing the young man’s question, the waiter continued.
"She said her husband likes our dumplings. So she comes to buy them herself."
At the waiter’s words, the surroundings let out sighs as if they had been waiting.
"So she’s married..."
"I’m jealous, so jealous..."
While the men began drinking again, using their sorrow as side dishes, the young man who had been talking actively fell into thought.
"What are you doing? Aren’t you drinking?"
"That woman just now... I feel like I’ve seen her somewhere."
"Stop talking nonsense and eat your food. How would someone like us have seen a woman like that?"
"No... rather than seeing her face... should I say her clothes were familiar?"
The sky-blue martial uniform had impressive braided embroidery.
He felt certain he had seen that embroidery somewhere before...
"Ah...?"
The young man remembered. That was definitely—
"...The Murong family?"
It was the emblem embedded in the Murong family’s merchant guild operating in Hannam.
Usually, those who wore such emblems embroidered on their clothes were mostly blood relatives.
'If that’s the case...'
Could it mean that the beautiful woman who had just bought dumplings
was a blood relative of the Murong family?
For a moment, the young man thought,
"Ah, that can’t be it."
He quickly shook his head and dismissed the thought.
Not even the story about the True Dragon they had been talking about was believed by anyone.
How could one believe that a blood relative of the great Murong family had come to buy dumplings for her husband?
Thinking so, the young man began drinking again.
The woman who had gone out with the dumplings just moments ago had already reached her destination.
The location was the middle of a mountain.
It was a cave that looked somewhat artificially made.
The woman—no, Murong Huia—naturally stepped into the cave that looked as if someone had smashed it open.
The cave was not very deep,
and light illuminated it from torches stuck here and there.
After taking a few steps,
Murong Huia smelled something.
There was no need to ponder what the smell was.
It was clearly the smell of sweat.
Rather than covering her nose, Murong Huia shook her head.
She had told him to rest, but it seemed he couldn’t sit still and had been moving his body.
"I told you you’d collapse doing that..."
Even so, it seemed he wouldn’t listen to these words even if he died.
Murong Huia began walking again,
and before long, she could reach the end.
Thud! Thud-thud!
Inside, massive explosions rang out continuously.
Each time, the cave resonated,
and from above, stone fragments fell with the vibrations.
Feeling this, Murong Huia spoke.
"I brought food."
Thud! Thud!
It wasn’t a small voice, but it seemed he couldn’t hear it anyway.
Murong Huia knew.
That in this situation, he wouldn’t listen even if she shouted.
As if accustomed to this situation, Murong Huia carefully placed the cloth-wrapped food on the floor.
Then she brought both hands to her mouth.
It was a motion to make her voice louder.
She knew the words that would immediately work on him in this situation.
"Little Yama (小閻羅), Great Hero. You must eat."
Thud....
At Murong Huia’s words, the vibrations and explosions stopped instantly.
Immediately after,
someone could be seen approaching from inside, snorting.
Moving at a considerable speed, his ears, flushed red, were visible.
"Hey! I told you not to call me that!"
A young man with dark black hair and fierce eyes.
It was Ouyang Tian.