[What nonsense! That’s a misunderstanding!]
[Do you think I’m that naive?]
Cheongun glared at the leader of Cheonwon Hall.
[You carry the same scent as the monsters from the Western Regions. It’s faint, but it’s there.]
[That’s just your imagination!]
[Even if I’ve become a wanderer, I am still a Taoist of Cheongseong. Did you really think you could deceive me?]
A commotion arose in the garden, and soon the enforcers of the Martial Alliance appeared, surrounding Elaine and her group.
The leader of Cheonwon Hall barked orders.
[They threatened me! Get them out of here! We can’t let these scum set foot in the Martial Alliance! Take them all down!]
As the situation grew tense, Elaine grabbed Cheongun’s sleeve.
“What’s going on?”
“It seems the leader of Cheonwon Hall has already been corrupted. I sense the aura of dark magic.”
“What? Then that means…”
Meanwhile, several enforcers were closing in on their group.
Fighting inside the Martial Alliance was suicide.
Cheongun clenched his teeth as he looked at the approaching enforcers and the furious face of the Cheonwon Hall leader.
Countless thoughts raced through his mind in a short moment.
Though he had left the martial world in disillusionment and traveled west, he had ultimately returned.
Perhaps this was some kind of fate calling him back.
“‘The path is walked and thus completed’…”
Cheongun muttered softly.
When the leader of Cheonwon Hall insulted Cheongseong, anger welled up inside him.
He had thought he abandoned the sect long ago, but the name Cheongseong was still a part of him.
“Cheongseong exists to eradicate evil and uphold righteousness.”
Though their arduous path had become a subject of ridicule, leading to their downfall, Cheongseong never abandoned its duty.
Recalling the promise made by Yuri Briol, the prince of Briol, Cheongun cast aside his last hesitation.
‘Cheongun. I don’t know your past, but I will never abandon you. If you don’t forsake me, I won’t forsake you. Understand?’
Cheongun nodded.
His resolve was firm.
He grabbed Bernard’s shoulder just as Bernard was about to step forward.
“Cheongun?”
“I’ll do it.”
Stepping forward, Cheongun shouted.
“I, Cheongun, the last disciple of Cheongseong, demand the Martial Alliance leader to enforce the oath!”
Raising the Cheongmyeong Heart Technique, he unleashed a secret sword art of Cheongseong, barely mastered.
The Cheongun Red Haze Sword Technique.
A glow of sunset hues radiated from him.
An undeniable proof of his affiliation with Cheongseong.
Cheongun continued.
“As the last disciple of Cheongseong, I hereby declare that Cheongseong withdraws from the Martial Alliance, effective today. The penalty is the loss of ten right arms, including the sect leader’s, but since I am the only disciple left, I will bear the cost alone!”
The enforcers halted in surprise, and the leader of Cheonwon Hall’s eyes widened.
Cheongun’s voice echoed loudly.
“According to the oath, this punishment must be carried out directly by the Martial Alliance leader. Bring the Martial Alliance leader here immediately!”
Since the Martial Alliance’s founding, no sect had ever voluntarily declared withdrawal—only expulsion.
The strict oath forbade it.
If a sect wished to leave, they had to surrender the right arms of ten disciples, including the sect leader’s, and the Martial Alliance leader had to personally enforce this to uphold the alliance’s dignity.
This rule had been the foundation of the Martial Alliance’s enduring power.
And now, for the first time in history, Cheongseong declared its withdrawal.
This was no trivial matter.
Though fallen, Cheongseong had been a pillar of the righteous factions for centuries.
Thus, Jang Younghak, the Martial Alliance leader—considered the sky of the martial world—appeared with a heavy heart.
As he stepped into the open courtyard at the center of the Martial Alliance’s main hall, all martial artists bowed respectfully.
Among them, Jang Younghak noticed a man whose internal energy felt unusually gentle.
He spoke.
“So, you are the last disciple of Cheongseong…?”
“Pardon?”
“How did you come to such a decision…?”
“I—I’m not the one…”
The man faltered, and the Martial Alliance’s chief enforcer quickly corrected.
“He’s one of the Martial Alliance’s enforcers.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“Since he’s from the Kunlun Sect, it’s easy to mistake him.”
“Then where is the Cheongseong disciple?”
“Over there.”
Jang Younghak looked toward the direction indicated and saw a man standing there.
At a glance, his martial skill didn’t seem particularly strong.
His internal energy was gentle but not remarkable.
After a brief silence, Jang Younghak spoke again.
“You say you’re a disciple of Cheongseong?”
Cheongun stepped forward and assumed a fighting stance.
“I am Cheongun, the last disciple of Cheongseong, Martial Alliance leader. I willingly offer my right arm. Please hear my plea.”
Jang Younghak stood silently.
Now he began to understand the situation.
“So, you wanted to withdraw from the alliance but used this as a pretext to get my attention.”
“I’m sorry, but yes.”
Jang Younghak’s long robe fluttered.
Though known for his gentle nature as a former member of the Mudang Sect, as the Martial Alliance leader, he never took matters lightly.
The Martial Alliance’s rules were its law.
They must be upheld above all else.
If treated lightly or used for other purposes, people would begin to doubt their meaning.
As the Martial Alliance leader, he had to demonstrate the gravity of the matter himself.
“You’ve been reckless.”
Jang Younghak was no soft man.
He immediately struck.
A blade of energy shot toward Cheongun.
Invisible and silent, the attack was so subtle that even the martial artists standing nearby didn’t notice.
Jang Younghak expected Cheongun’s arm to be severed and for him to collapse immediately.
Then, without further words, he would leave.
He didn’t care what Cheongun wanted to say; he had no intention of negotiating with someone who disrespected the Martial Alliance’s rules.
But just as he turned to leave—
A sharp crack echoed.
It was a sound unlike bones breaking.
Jang Younghak stopped in his tracks.
“No! What—”
“Where do you think you’re going!”
“You insolent—!”
At once, the Martial Alliance warriors around erupted in fury.
To block the Martial Alliance leader’s blade was a direct challenge.
Even if the leader unleashed a killing strike, they had to endure it. Refusal meant bloodshed for their sect and the surrounding area.
Though they claimed to uphold justice, the Martial Alliance was ultimately a force of arms.
“Hmm…”
Yet the man who blocked the leader’s attack showed no sign of wavering despite the pressure.
“Interesting.”
Jang Younghak smiled, and the crowd fell silent.
Since becoming the Martial Alliance leader, no one had dared defy him.
Whether by strength, authority, or sect influence, he stood at the pinnacle of Eastern martial arts.
This defiance was refreshing.
It could be dismissed as ignorance from the West, but the skill to block his blade was undeniably genuine.
“There are few in the martial world who can block my sword…”
Cheongun’s voice trembled as he realized how close he’d come to losing his arm.
“He’s a master even in the West.”
“Is that so? Will you tell this Westerner he’s quite skilled?”
“Yes.”
Cheongun translated the Martial Alliance leader’s words to Bernard.
“He says your skill is impressive.”
“Is he the Martial Alliance leader?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell him exactly what I say.”
Bernard said something, and Cheongun looked flustered.
“B-But this is…”
“Do it.”
“Ah, understood.”
After hesitating, Cheongun relayed Bernard’s message.
“In the West, you’d be considered retired…”
He softened the phrase “old man” for politeness.
“What did you say?”
The martial artists bristled, ready to attack the insolent Westerner.
Cheongun shrank his shoulders, the earlier bravado gone.
“I mean no offense.”
“You call me an old man behind my back and say it’s no offense…”
“There’s a cultural difference because he’s from the West.”
“Being from the West doesn’t mean there are no rules. You just bear a grudge against me.”
Bernard grabbed Cheongun’s shoulder and whispered again.
Cheongun shook his head, but Bernard pressed him to speak.
“W-Westerners say there are many stronger than the leader, so be humble. If you doubt it, they challenge you to a duel. They say they’re not even in the top ten swordsmen in the West.”
In the East, where martial ranks were rigidly divided by skill and sect, no one would dare speak so arrogantly to the Martial Alliance leader.
The smile vanished from Jang Younghak’s face.
“Are you serious?”
“I am.”
“Huh…”
He laughed, but the Martial Alliance enforcers showed murderous intent.
Jang Younghak nodded.
“Very well. It seems the Westerners have no manners. They’re beasts. I will personally take your life.”
Cheongun’s face turned pale.
Bernard, however, seemed pleased.
“Good.”
“Bernard, why are you doing this?”
“Cheongun, why did you stake your arm on this?”
“Well…”
“You, an Easterner, wagered your sect and your arm on this. I must stake my life to balance the scales.”
“What?”
Bernard smiled.
No matter how strong he was, he was no match for the Martial Alliance leader, the pinnacle of the East.
But Bernard was ready to fight.
“Cheongun. Now I understand why you left the East.”
“Huh?”
“Even if you’d offered your arm, that old man wouldn’t have listened.”
“That’s…”
Cheongun couldn’t deny it.
Bernard was right. The martial world was ruthless. No matter how desperately he gambled, the leader of the Martial Alliance wouldn’t have heeded a weakling’s words.
“Since you might die, I’ll tell you something. Have you ever heard the name Moyongchan?”
“Huh?”
Cheongun nodded.
It was a name he’d occasionally come across back in Briole. A warrior from the East operating in the Western regions, reputed to be incredibly strong. He’d even stayed at the Briole royal palace for quite some time.
But Cheongun hadn’t paid it much mind. It wasn’t unusual for martial artists from the East to arrive in the West first.
What Bernard said next, however, was shocking.
“That man is from the Cheongseong Sect.”
“Excuse me?”
“I was skeptical at first, but after seeing the sword technique you used earlier, I’m certain. It’s definitely from the same school.”
“Y-You know the Cheongun Jeokha Sword Technique?”
“I’ve faced him directly.”
“Moyongchan…?”
Cheongun’s eyes widened.
“No way.”
Those who enter the sect abandon their old names.
Cheongun, an orphan by birth, had his sect name as his identity, but most retained their worldly names from before.
If his master’s uncle had abandoned the name Hyeonseong, it was entirely possible.
“So your master’s uncle traveled all the way to the West on a demon-slaying mission?”
“Exactly. Which means you never had the right to leave the Martial Alliance by sacrificing your arm. It was a reckless move.”
“This can’t be…”
“Good luck, then.”
Bernard drew his sword and stepped forward.
The surrounding warriors held their breath, eyes fixed on him and the Martial Alliance leader.
A duel between a Western swordsman and the Martial Alliance chief.
A once-in-a-lifetime spectacle.
Bernard brandished his blade.
“For the record, I’ve fought duels every year against someone far stronger than this old man. Compared to that, he’s nothing.”
Bernard was the one who had charged repeatedly at the monster Fiore Briole, even after being pierced through the abdomen.
Though his temperament had softened during his time in Briole, he was still known as the Sword Ghost.
A deadly aura began to emanate from Bernard’s body—a thick, dark crimson, like congealed blood.
He smiled, lips curling upward.
“This’ll be fun. Glad I joined you on the way to the East.”
Facing Bernard, Jang Younghak spoke up.
“A sword-obsessed demon, huh? But this is where it ends. Drunk on his own skill, he made a fatal mistake. The price for walking the wrong path is death.”
Moyongchan gripped his aching shoulder and rose to his feet.
The stars stretched across the sky.
Though he hadn’t studied the heavens in a long time, his gaze was drawn upward.
The star of upheaval, the Pathbreaker, shone with an eerie light.
Suddenly, he recalled the story he’d heard from Yuri about his disciple’s nephew.
A ronin who had come all the way to the West—a sad yet strangely fated tale.
“Cheongun…”
They said he had left for the East.
The Eastern martial world Moyongchan remembered was no place to listen to someone like Cheongun.
Everything ran on the logic of power. Chivalry had long since been twisted into a tool for the privileged.
Yet, somehow, he wasn’t overly worried.
Though the Pathbreaker star shone ominously above,
the star of Cheongseong—the one that destroys evil and upholds justice—still burned bright.
“Cheongun, I believe you’ll succeed. When we meet again, this foolish master’s uncle will ask for your forgiveness.”
Trusting his disciple’s nephew, Moyongchan cast aside all his worries about the East.
Cheongun’s mission lay there; his own lay on the battlefield.
It was time to return.
Clutching his sword, he muttered,
“‘The Way is traveled and thus completed’…”