The warriors of the Sapa sect narrowly outpaced the monks of the Gongdong sect, slipping into a small village just in time.
Dang Mujin had expected the Gongdong sect’s warriors to follow them into the village immediately. To his surprise, they hesitated at the village’s edge, reluctant to enter.
The reason for their hesitation was unclear, but it worked in Dang Mujin’s favor. His group had business not with the Sapa warriors, but with the Gongdong monks and a certain informant they were rumored to have with them.
As Dang Mujin’s group approached the Gongdong monks at a leisurely pace, the monks eyed them warily. It was only natural to be on guard when encountering a strange group unless one was supremely confident in their own abilities.
Not wanting to provoke the monks, Dang Mujin’s group stopped at a respectful distance and observed them.
“Two women, five men,” Namgung Myung noted with a quick assessment. “Judging by appearances alone, they don’t seem particularly friendly.”
“Indeed,” Dang Mujin agreed.
Namgung Myung wasn’t one to judge solely by appearances, but when all seven individuals gave off a similarly unfriendly vibe, it was hard to ignore.
Typically, one might expect a certain look from orthodox martial artists: skin a bit fairer than a farmer’s, eyes full of life, and a resolute demeanor. None of the Gongdong monks fit that description. Their appearances varied, but their eyes were uniformly fierce, and several bore visible scars.
After a brief exchange of glances to decide who would speak, Hyun Gong stepped forward. He was the most knowledgeable about the Gongdong sect and adept at diplomacy, and his own sect, the Wudang, shared a Daoist lineage with the Gongdong.
Hyun Gong greeted them with a polite bow. “Greetings, fellow practitioners of the Gongdong sect.”
“Fellow practitioners? Which sect do you hail from?” A woman stepped forward from the Gongdong group, unexpectedly taking the lead.
She appeared to be in her mid-thirties, with features distinct from those of the southern regions. Her eyes were sharp, and she was tall for a woman. She seemed to be the only one among them who could gauge Hyun Gong’s martial prowess.
Hyun Gong replied calmly, “I am Hyun Gong, known as the Dragon Sword of the Wudang sect. These are my friends from Sichuan.”
The Gongdong monks reacted with surprise, recognizing Hyun Gong’s title.
“The Dragon Sword! I’ve heard you’re the Wudang’s most promising talent.”
Judging by their reaction, it seemed news of Hyun Gong’s expulsion from Wudang hadn’t spread. After all, Elder Youngbo wouldn’t have broadcasted such news.
The woman introduced herself with a steady gaze. “Pleased to meet you. I am Yaryul Dalum of the Gongdong sect. What brings you here?”
Yaryul Dalum—a name and surname unfamiliar to Hyun Gong, likely of northern origin. Without showing any sign of his curiosity, Hyun Gong continued smoothly.
“I’ve heard there’s someone named Yong Ilseon in the Gongdong sect.”
Yaryul Dalum nodded. “Yes, he joined us earlier this year. Has he caused any trouble?”
“Not at all. We’ve heard that Yong Ilseon might know the whereabouts of the Luminescent Sword, and we’re here to find out.”
“The Luminescent Sword… You’re searching for a significant figure. Yong Ilseon might indeed know something. He’s well-connected and keen on rumors.”
The conversation was progressing quickly and smoothly. Hyun Gong got straight to the point.
“In that case, could you introduce us to Yong Ilseon?”
“Hmm. If you could do us a favor in return.”
“What kind of favor?”
“I’ve heard of the Dragon Sword’s formidable reputation, and seeing you in person, it’s clear you’re far beyond the average martial artist. Could you help us extract some individuals hiding in that village?”
Hyun Gong’s eyebrows rose slightly before settling back. Typically, orthodox martial artists wouldn’t make demands in such situations. Asking for something in return for a small favor was seen as petty.
“The village doesn’t have high walls or fences, and with your skills, the villagers shouldn’t pose much of a problem. What’s the issue?”
“We’re not entirely sure. But if that group has taken refuge in the village, it likely means there’s someone capable of protecting them. If we’re unlucky, we could suffer significant losses, so we’d like to have some backup.”
Hyun Gong assessed the martial prowess of the Gongdong monks. Yaryul Dalum and one man seemed to be first-rate, while the other five were second-rate.
For Dang Mujin’s group, the task was likely as simple as picking fruit from a tree for a tall adult.
‘The terms of the deal aren’t too demanding.’
However, Hyun Gong didn’t decide alone and looked to Dang Mujin, who nodded, understanding Hyun Gong’s thoughts.
With that, Hyun Gong agreed. “Very well. Let’s go together.”
Following the Gongdong monks, Dang Mujin’s group headed toward the village. Yaryul Dalum could sense their martial prowess just from their gait.
She couldn’t tell if they had surpassed the pinnacle, but it was clear all four were above her level.
“I may not be certain, but it seems Hyun Gong’s friends are quite accomplished as well.”
Of course, Yaryul Dalum wasn’t including Lee Gyu in her assessment. He was clearly an outlier.
“Well, my friends and I have been told we’re somewhat capable.”
While Hyun Gong spoke with feigned modesty, Dang Mujin surveyed the surroundings.
The villagers watched them without any sign of fear.
“I expected them to take hostages, but it seems they haven’t.”
“They know it would be a foolish move.”
“It’s a bit strange. If they’ve taken refuge in the village, wouldn’t it be better to take hostages?”
Yaryul Dalum shook her head and made a slicing motion across her neck with her finger.
“They might hold out a bit longer, but the consequences would be severe. Normally, we spare those who are useful and let the small fry go, but if they’re rotten enough to take hostages and harm people, there’s no reason to let them live.”
“That’s quite decisive.”
“The Gongdong sect stands at the forefront of combating evil. We must show a firm stance to minimize long-term damage.”
There was a subtle pride in Yaryul Dalum’s voice. Dang Mujin asked her a question.
“Did you also come to the Gongdong sect at someone else’s behest?”
In other words, was she brought here against her will?
“No, that’s not the case.”
Though it could have been an uncomfortable question, Yaryul Dalum laughed it off, waving her hand.
She seemed to appreciate being addressed as “miss,” a term not often used by someone a good decade younger.
“No, that’s not it. Only those who come to the Gongdong sect of their own accord can take on the role of seeking out those worth reforming.”
“Ah, so you joined the Gongdong sect voluntarily. That must have been a difficult choice.”
“It was an easy choice for me. It was the only choice. I have no regrets.”
“Could you tell me more?”
Seeing Dang Mujin’s interest, Yaryul Dalum spoke brightly.
“Across the entire martial world, where would you find a prestigious sect willing to accept someone who has learned Sapa or demonic martial arts? If you want to escape the wretched life of a Sapa warrior, the Gongdong sect is the only option.”
Prestigious sects are known for nurturing young talents, which also means they don’t accept those with flaws. And one’s place of origin can be considered a flaw. The north is often seen as barbarian territory.
Thus, no prestigious sects are based beyond the central plains, and those born in the north have limited options, often learning Sapa or demonic arts, or crude martial arts found in the streets.
Prestigious sects claim to reform the wicked and eradicate evil, but they only eradicate evil, never reforming the wicked. It’s easier and leaves no loose ends.
Yaryul Dalum continued her story slowly.
“I was content with my life at first. But those who learn Sapa martial arts often have a reckless streak. My father and younger brother’s personalities twisted over time, and they ended up dying in a fight. I feared I might end up the same way.”
“You must have gone through a lot.”
As they walked and talked, they soon spotted the Sapa warriors gathered in front of a large house. One tall man was desperately pleading through the door.
“Isn’t this enough? Just help us this once! You could take them all down with one hand!”
It seemed the Sapa warriors were relying on someone inside the house. However, the problem was that the homeowner wasn’t eager to help.
As the conversation dragged on and the Sapa warriors grew anxious, they noticed the approaching Gongdong monks and their faces turned ashen.
“Just tell them we’ll give it all! Whether we get a hole in our heads or get caught by the Gongdong, we won’t need money either way!”
Seizing the moment of their panic, Yaryul Dalum spoke to the Sapa warriors with a friendly expression.
“Don’t be afraid, just surrender. Unless you’ve committed particularly heinous crimes, you won’t get a hole in your head. At worst, one or two out of ten might die, but the rest can return safely.”
Even if the odds are one in ten, it’s hard to remain calm when your own life is at stake. And as is often the case with the underworld and rogue martial artists, those gathered here had plenty of reasons to be on edge.
Just like in Yalu Dalm’s stories, not everyone who survived would return unscathed.
There were times when one’s meridians were severed or their energy center was crushed.
The rogue martial artists shouted in defiance.
“Don’t lie to us! We know you took Bonghak last time!”
“He was recognized for his talent and became a proud member of the Gongdong Sect. Your friend abandoned his crude skills to learn the advanced techniques of our sect. It’s not an easy path, but he’s satisfied and training diligently.”
The mention of advanced techniques was tempting, but the risks were too great.
“We’re not falling for it! Get lost!”
“Surrender peacefully before you get hurt.”
As the rogue martial artists grew increasingly fearful, the man negotiating with the house owner pushed a sack through the door crack.
“Alright! I’ll give you everything! I’ll even add more later! If we scrape everything together, we can offer you thirty or forty taels of gold! Please, help us!”
Finally, the door opened, and a person emerged from the house.
The man who stepped out was unusually large, with a shiny bald head and skin much darker than most. He seemed to have mastered some unique external martial arts.
His martial prowess appeared exceptional, far beyond the first-class level, capable of easily taking on seven Gongdong Sect fighters alone.
’…What?’
The problem was that the man’s appearance was eerily reminiscent of someone.
As the bald man emerged, the rogue martial artists pointed at the Gongdong Sect fighters with glee.
“You bastards are done for! It’s the great Sam Anbul!”
As if on cue, Tang Mujin and his group simultaneously stroked their chins.