Immediately after hearing the Poison King’s murder threat (?) through Dang Soyeol. After finishing a meal so tense I couldn’t tell if the food was entering through my mouth or my nose, I moved my feet at once.
Even while walking out on the street, I racked my brain trying to figure out how to refuse the Poison King’s invitation, but no excuse convincing enough to dissuade him came to mind.
*Surely he’s just asking me to a meal.*
That’s what I told myself. The odds of that were certainly high, yet I couldn’t stop the cold chill creeping down my spine.
*Surely he wouldn’t actually try to poison me.*
Even if he was a master of dark arts, and even though I knew he wouldn’t do such a thing to me. The rumors floating around were one thing, and since he was famous for being a doting father, I felt more than a little uneasy.
Normally, being the head of one of the Four Great Clans, I would have assumed he wouldn’t do something so rash without reason, but…
*…If I think of that man, the Baekcheon Sword Lord, it’s not so simple.*
I had realized that the heads of the Four Great Clans were all not quite right in the head.
Surely they hadn’t been like this in my previous life.
Had I simply not known? Or had something changed?
*It can’t be that things have changed.*
No matter how much has changed, it would be strange for that to change too. They were simply strange people from the start, and I just hadn’t known. It had to be.
Otherwise, the future of these Central Plains… No, it was doomed from the start anyway.
“Haah.”
A sigh escaped me naturally, seeing how every single person I was entangled with seemed to be a crazy bastard.
Meanwhile, though I wanted to avoid the meal with the Poison King if I could, it simply wasn’t possible. The rulers of the Sichuan land I was heading to were the Dang Clan, for one thing. Furthermore, Dang Soyeol had excitedly gone and told him I was going to Sichuan.
Going by that alone, I could just not see him if I didn’t want to. It wouldn’t have mattered much even if we didn’t travel together. The Poison King even had another purpose for going to Sichuan.
*He’s transporting prisoners.*
Prisoners said to be locked in the underground of the Martial Alliance. Demonic faction martial artists who had attacked the Divine Dragon Hall this time, and the one called Black Dragon Sword who played a major role in spreading my name throughout the Central Plains, along with his group. Capturing them and taking them to the Dang Clan was the task the Poison King had undertaken.
Recalling that, my expression slightly furrowed.
*He really uses ruthless methods.*
The reason for taking prisoners all the way from Hanam to Sichuan. Just thinking about it made it impossible not to furrow my brow.
Though torture could be done easily enough in Hanam, there were always those who wouldn’t talk no matter what. The Dang Clan was a place that made even such men spit out words. These days, the Dang Clan was called one of the pillars of the righteous faction, but the reason they could be called such was ultimately that they took on the dark and dirty work the righteous faction could not do.
Most of the Central Plains either didn’t know this or tacitly tolerated it. I knew.
At the time the Demonic Cult occupied Sichuan in my previous life. After killing Dubi with my own hands, the place I headed to was the underground of the Dang Clan. In that place I had gone to follow the Heavenly Demon’s order, I had to witness a living hell.
If even I, who had survived battlefields aplenty, could call it hell, it was surely a sight I would not wish to remember. The clan head, the Poison King, could not possibly be ignorant of that work. For that reason, I couldn’t help but view him with discomfort.
Even the Dang Clan’s uniquely innocent-looking eyes and appearance—after seeing the truth buried beneath the earth, they seemed no different from chilling masks. Since the Martial Alliance knew of such Dang Clan secrets as well, they must have asked the Poison King to send them to Sichuan. Looking at it this way, I could once again be certain that the Martial Alliance was not a clean place either.
*It’s only natural.*
No place can survive while remaining completely clean. I, of all people, knew that well, but I simply hated drawing near to that truth.
*Tch.*
No matter what, I couldn’t refuse this meal with the Poison King. The reasons I shouldn’t go that I listed above were all significant, but the reason I had to go was far greater still.
*Anyway, nothing helps. What a shitty world.*
The most important reason I was heading to Sichuan was to obtain the White Horse Stone, the means to stabilize my incomplete Hwagyeong and raise my realm higher. To obtain that White Horse Stone, I needed nothing other than the Dang Clan’s permission.
Thus, I couldn’t rashly refuse the Poison King’s dinner invitation. Originally, I would have asked Dang Soyeol to somehow get me out of it, but…
*If things have come to this, it can’t be helped.*
With no other way, the meal with the Poison King was inevitable. Thinking so, I let out a sigh and continued walking. I had arrived at my destination before I knew it, so I had to focus on the business at hand.
The meal with the Poison King was in the evening, and I still had matters to attend to during the day.
Those blocking the main gate checked my face and moved aside. They seemed to have received prior notice. I gave them a slight bow and opened the door to enter.
While walking, I sent my gaze to the chests of those guarding the area. Martial uniforms with wind-wave patterns embroidered in white thread. Seeing that meant they were Daoists of Kunlun. There was only one sect in the Central Plains that bore such embroidery.
Passing through the entrance, I felt similar energies here and there. They were all the sensations of the Kunlun Sect’s Dao energy. Feeling them, I continued walking.
The reason I had come to such a place teeming with Daoists. It was to meet the old man beyond the door ahead.
*Creak.*
Carefully opening the door and entering, an old man half-rising from his bed welcomed me.
“You’ve come.”
An old man with white hair and kindly wrinkles nestled in every corner of his face. On one arm, his hand seemed to have been cut off above the wrist, gone somewhere. Yet the old man waving his remaining hand at me was none other than the Cheonghae Ilgeom.
********
After carefully taking my seat, I received the refreshments and tea offered by the Daoist.
“Have you been well?”
“Yes. You must be quite busy these days. Sorry for calling you out.”
“Not at all.”
How long had it been since we met? Probably about a month. Though I had run into him a couple of times since the incident, this was the first time Cheonghae Ilgeom had called for me directly.
Cheonghae Ilgeom spoke to me with his characteristic smile.
“They say there is no place where your name isn’t heard these days. Is that so?”
“...It’s… not to that extent.”
I had denied it, but it was actually true. Apparently, in the back alleys of Hanam, children had made up some ridiculous game called “Soyeomra play.” If I had laid eyes on them, I would have given those brats a couple of lumps on their heads. It was a shame I hadn’t seen it directly. If I had found them, I wouldn’t have let them off.
Whether he knew my mood or not, Cheonghae Ilgeom let out a chuckle.
“You accomplished a great deed, so it is not a bad thing that it has become so.”
“...Yes.”
One might say it was a good thing if it was good. To me, it was uncomfortable because I could see the Alliance’s orchestration in the rumors. Forcing down my displeasure, this time I posed a question to Cheonghae Ilgeom.
“Is your body doing better?”
“Of course. It couldn’t be better.”
“I see.”
Though Cheonghae Ilgeom spat it out as if it were nothing, I couldn’t believe it at all. Having lost a wrist was one thing, and seeing him lying in bed like this afterwards, it seemed his internal injuries were quite deep.
*...Moreover, the situation isn’t very good right now either.*
The Divine Dragon Hall belonged to the Alliance, but the ones managing it this time were the Kunlun Sect. Thus, they couldn’t avoid moral responsibility for the damage caused by Black Dragon Sword’s attack.
The Alliance Leader, Jang Cheon, had stepped down because of this matter. According to rumors heard in the world:
*Cheonghae Ilgeom had also said he wanted to step down from the Sect Leader’s position.*
This was not a confirmed matter. It was truly just a rumor. Furthermore, Kunlun had taken firm measures of its own after the incident.
Immediately after the incident, they had gathered the dead martial artists and held a small funeral. It was also the Kunlun Sect’s people who shared each martial artist’s information, and who managed the bodies with internal energy so they wouldn’t decay until people arrived from the victims’ sects or families.
To me, this meant they had fulfilled their moral responsibility, but the world’s gaze didn’t seem to think so. Rumors maligning Kunlun were unusually increasing—calling them an incompetent famous sect alongside the Martial Alliance, a sect with nothing but an empty shell.
So were Cheonghae Ilgeom and Kunlun truly incompetent as they said?
*Who knows.*
At least I didn’t think so. I just didn’t know what others thought.
Thinking that far, I first spoke to Cheonghae Ilgeom.
“Sect Leader.”
“Yes.”
“What is the reason you called for me?”
The main point of calling me so suddenly—I was curious about that. Hearing my question, Cheonghae Ilgeom soon took a sip of tea. He seemed to need a moment to organize his words, so I didn’t rush him.
After a moment passed, Cheonghae Ilgeom opened his mouth.
“The reason I called you is first… to say thank you.”
“...Isn’t that something you already said quite some time ago?”
It was what Cheonghae Ilgeom had said right after regaining consciousness. That he was grateful for saving the children. It had been truly unpleasant to hear then. It was still the same now.
“Gratitude is something you continue to express as long as the feeling remains.”
“I am fine, so you do not have to…”
“Furthermore, I don’t believe thanks should be expressed only in words.”
At the moment I was about to make a disgusted face and ask him not to, Cheonghae Ilgeom took something out from his bosom along with his words and handed it to me.
“What is this?”
It was a round object painted gold. It was about the size and shape of a coin, but I couldn’t tell what it was.
While I looked at it with questions, Cheonghae Ilgeom spoke the rest.
“I heard you’re heading to Sichuan in a few days. Is that so?”
“Excuse me? Ah, yes, that’s correct.”
Where had he heard that? For some reason, it felt like everyone I met knew I was going to Sichuan.
“This… is a token of my gratitude that I can give you. I prepared it because you said you were going to Sichuan, so please accept it.”
Did this mean it had a use in Sichuan? If so, it would be better to accept it, but the justification for receiving it was the problem.
“I cannot accept such a thing, Sect Leader.”
I wasn’t qualified to receive such an object. Many had died due to the situation changed by me. I had simply killed those demonic faction bastards in anger at seeing them. Those who survived thanks to that? They were simply those who should have survived. Conversely, the dead were those who should have survived. In such a situation, did I have the qualification to receive this?
I thought not.
Was it because of my answer? A brief silence fell. Looking into my eyes, Cheonghae Ilgeom stroked his beard with his remaining hand and spoke.
“There is an inexplicable sense of guilt upon you.”
“...”
“What is making you so small?”
Cheonghae Ilgeom asked, but I couldn’t answer. Not to anyone.
Perhaps realizing I wouldn’t give an answer, Cheonghae Ilgeom snorted softly and calmly moved his lips.
“I don’t know the reason, but if you refuse to accept it as a token of gratitude, then accept it at least as a gift.”
“...Did you say a gift?”
“Do you remember my saying in the past that I favor you?”
“Yes.”
Around the time I entered the Divine Dragon Hall and met Cheonghae Ilgeom separately. Those were his words to me. That he favored me.
“Then think of this as proof of that and accept it.”
“But—”
“Tsk, tsk. Do you mean to embarrass this old man even more?”
“...”
Cheonghae Ilgeom spoke with a slight frown. Only after seeing that did I wordlessly pick up the golden plaque and put it in my bosom. Only after that did Cheonghae Ilgeom smile again, as if satisfied.
“Hold onto that object and use it when you arrive in Sichuan.”
“Use it? Just where exactly am I supposed to use it…?”
To my question, Cheonghae Ilgeom told me a location.
“…!”
The moment I heard it, I couldn’t help but widen my eyes in surprise. And for good reason—the location Cheonghae Ilgeom told me to use the golden plaque was none other than the location of the White Horse Stone.
*How on earth?*
The moment I looked at him in confusion, wondering why Cheonghae Ilgeom would suddenly speak of “that place,” the old man made a strange expression and spoke.
“I hope this will be of some help on your journey.”
“...”
At the faint but deep sincerity visible in Cheonghae Ilgeom’s eyes, I had to bite my lip slightly. Perhaps having confirmed my expression, Cheonghae Ilgeom added with a smile.
“May you find comfort. Not where others are comfortable, but where you yourself are comfortable.”
Comfort.
I didn’t know in what sense he had expressed comfort to me, but to me, it was still a distant word I couldn’t yet feel.
“…Thank you.”
Even so, I gave my respects to Cheonghae Ilgeom with a small measure of sincerity. Because I lacked the confidence to ask what he meant. Cheonghae Ilgeom briefly stroked my head as if that was enough.
Many thoughts flashed through my mind at the old man’s words. Comfort…
It was still a distant word, but someday. It was my wish that I too might reach it someday. To that place called comfort.
********
And so evening came. I had to furrow my brow recalling Cheonghae Ilgeom’s words.
*Comfort, my ass.*
I was once again made to realize that it was a word that didn’t suit me.
The table was laden so heavily it looked ready to collapse, and anyone could see it was appetizing. But I wasn’t eating a single bite. Because this was no situation for such things to go down.
The middle-aged man holding a teacup before me, looking at me. The master of the Dang Clan, the Poison King, spoke to me.
“Let me ask again, Ninth Young Master.”
Fortunately, the food didn’t seem to be poisoned, but the fervent desire burning in the man’s eyes was practically choking my throat. As I was barely holding back a groan, the Poison King spoke to me.
“Do you intend to take our Soyeol with you?”
Only then did I realize.
That this occasion was far more burdensome than I had expected.