Night in Luoyang

Namgung Myung returned to Namgeumgang, waking up Tang Mujin and Gwang Eomrak from their slumber.

“Wake up, you have to see this!”

Gwang Eomrak, who had been enjoying a rare night under a roof, opened his eyes with a hint of annoyance. During his time with the Wudang Sect, he had often slept outdoors to avoid being noticed. And at his age, once his sleep was disturbed, it was hard to fall back asleep. Still, he sat up, albeit with a grumpy expression.

Tang Mujin, on the other hand, was different. He didn’t even bother to sit up, keeping his eyes shut tight. With a groggy voice, he muttered, “Whatever it is, can’t it wait until morning?”

“No way! I’ve got some crucial information!” Namgung Myung declared confidently.

Tang Mujin responded with skepticism, “What kind of information?”

“I found the Great Protector! And the cult leader is with him!”

The mention of the Great Protector and the cult leader was no small matter. Tang Mujin sat up, his eyes filled with doubt rather than excitement.

They had come to Luoyang to track down the Great Protector and the cult leader, but finding their trail within a day seemed impossible. Namgung Myung wasn’t even a local, so how could he have such information?

Moreover, judging by the moon’s position, Namgung Myung hadn’t been out long—barely two hours.

Tang Mujin replied dismissively, “Really? Who told you where the Great Protector was?”

“I just happened to run into him while wandering the streets.”

”…”

That sounded absurd. Both Tang Mujin and Gwang Eomrak lay back down, dismissing the notion.

Namgung Myung, frustrated, exclaimed, “Why are you reacting like this? I really saw the Great Protector!”

“You’re saying you just bumped into him by chance? Even if that’s true, why would the Great Protector be wandering around at night, especially when he’s supposed to be protecting an injured cult leader?”

Tang Mujin pulled his blanket over himself, thinking Namgung Myung must be dreaming about some grand heist.

“Ah, a heist… Maybe the Great Protector was out stealing something valuable?”

“No, he was stealing cattle feed.”

”…”

Tang Mujin and Gwang Eomrak exchanged glances and closed their eyes again, unwilling to entertain Namgung Myung’s nonsense any longer.

“If you’re dreaming, just go back to sleep. Enough with the nonsense.”

“I’m telling you, it’s true!”

“Even if it were a jade ring, I might have pretended to believe you. But why would someone as high-ranking as the Great Protector be stealing cattle feed?”

Just as they were about to drift back to sleep, a suspicious sound echoed through the room.

The unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn.

”…!”

Tang Mujin and Gwang Eomrak shot up, sitting upright and staring at Namgung Myung, who was holding a sword Tang Mujin had crafted for him.

Gwang Eomrak spoke seriously, “My apologies on behalf of the Tang family head. We were too groggy to tell dream from reality.”

Namgung Myung shook his head, offering the sword for inspection. “No need to worry. Look closely, there’s a nick on the blade.”

If it had been a sword Tang Mujin crafted himself, it wouldn’t have shown such wear. But Namgung Myung’s prosthetic sword, bought with a few silver coins, bore the marks of battle—nicks and scratches from clashing blades.

‘Hmm…’

The evidence suggested Namgung Myung had indeed encountered a formidable opponent. Few could match him in skill, especially at night when most wouldn’t even sense his presence before it was too late.

Tang Mujin and Gwang Eomrak were perplexed.

‘Could he really have run into the Great Protector stealing cattle feed?’

Though they couldn’t be sure of the details, it was no longer something they could dismiss as mere fantasy.

Tang Mujin stood up and asked Namgung Myung, “Where did you see the Great Protector?”

The trio arrived at the spot where Namgung Myung claimed to have seen the Great Protector. The ground was littered with dark green leaves, and the distant sound of a cow’s mournful mooing could be heard.

Tang Mujin asked, ”…Did you see where they went?”

“Yes, they left Luoyang heading north.”

“Let’s go.”

Guided by Namgung Myung, they moved north. The streets were nearly deserted, the bustling city of Luoyang now eerily quiet as dawn approached.

They soon left Luoyang behind, the occasional sound of a cow’s lowing echoing in the distance.

Namgung Myung pointed to a mountain in the north, Mangsan. “They headed that way.”

At that moment, a memory surfaced in Tang Mujin’s mind. An old tale from Choi Chonnoong about how the cult leader once lived with his family in the mountains north of Luoyang.

‘He said it was halfway up the mountain…’

If the cult leader had come to Mangsan, he was likely staying near his family’s graves. But finding the cult leader’s grave wouldn’t be easy. Mangsan was considered a prime burial site, filled with the tombs of high-ranking officials. It was known as the “Blessed Mangsan.”

The three cautiously searched the mountain, eventually finding a small, well-maintained grave, unlike the larger ones around it. It seemed recently tended, with no weeds nearby, and a small hut stood close by.

‘This must be where the cult leader lived in his youth.’

Tang Mujin carefully inspected the hut. It smelled musty, filled with odds and ends, and showed signs of recent habitation. The cult leader and the Great Protector had definitely been there.

Namgung Myung, after a thorough search, pointed confidently to the west. “They went that way. Not long ago, by the looks of it.”

The trio quietly followed the trail left by the Great Protector and the cult leader. They hadn’t bothered to hide their tracks, and Namgung Myung was adept at reading them, so they moved without pause.

After some time, Gwang Eomrak spoke up, “Are we sure we’re doing the right thing, following them?”

“Why do you ask?” Tang Mujin replied, turning back.

“Can we even win?”

”…”

The extent of the cult leader’s injuries was unknown. But the tracks showed no signs of stumbling or struggling, suggesting he was moving without assistance.

‘It’s safe to assume the cult leader is in decent condition.’

If he was merely mobile but still severely injured, the three of them might stand a chance. But if he had recovered quickly or was still capable of fighting…

’…There’s no chance.’

Gwang Eomrak scratched his chin. “Look, I know it’s awkward for me to say this, having betrayed the cult and all, but…”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t leave the cult because I had some great grudge against the leader. I ran because I was afraid he’d kill me.”

“So?”

“I’m not keen on fighting without a plan. If it were a grand showdown in a crowded place, like with Jegal Nam, I might consider it. But stumbling into the cult leader and getting killed isn’t appealing.”

Tang Mujin and Namgung Myung both understood Gwang Eomrak’s hesitation. Tang Mujin, and now Namgung Myung, had families to think about. Even without families, they would likely feel the same.

Tang Mujin nodded, proposing a practical solution. “You’re right. Facing the cult leader and the Great Protector head-on isn’t wise. But we can’t let this opportunity slip. Let’s be strategic.”

“How?”

“We’ll keep tracking them while gathering allies. The monks who returned to Shaolin, the experts still at Wudang… We’ll rally as many as we can and strike together. Even the cult leader can’t withstand sheer numbers.”

Gwang Eomrak squinted, “Aren’t martial artists supposed to prefer honorable one-on-one duels?”

“In a one-on-one, we’d be dead.”

In truth, Tang Mujin avoided one-on-one fights when the odds were against him. Most martial artists felt the same. Those who didn’t rarely lived long.

And if the cult didn’t care about such honor, why should the righteous sects? A well-timed ambush with overwhelming force was the cleanest, most effective solution.

The decision was clear: they needed to divide the roles. Who would track the cult leader, and who would rally the righteous warriors?

None of the three were eager to take on the task of tracking the cult leader. After all, the moment he sensed their presence, their lives would be in grave danger.

Namgoong Myung was the first to raise his hand.

“I’ll go."
"And why do you think you should be the one?"
"My martial arts are the fastest. It won’t take long to make a round trip through Shaolin and Wudang.”

Gwang Yeom-gak quickly countered.

“That might not be the best idea."
"And why not?”

Gwang Yeom-gak was shrewd. Instead of arguing why he was the better choice, he opted to praise Namgoong Myung, wrapping his argument in flattery.

“You’re the best at tracking, and your movements are the most discreet. If any of us can deceive the cult leader and his right-hand man, it’s you. Isn’t that right?"
"Well, that’s true…"
"Plus, your swordsmanship is unmatched. Until last year, I might have thought you were beneath me. But now, I see you’re at least my equal, if not superior. Frankly, if the Sword King can’t do it, I doubt I, the head of the Tang family, could. That’s all there is to it.”

Namgoong Myung couldn’t refuse, not with his pride on the line. Especially since Gwang Yeom-gak had called him the Sword King twice today.

At that moment, Tang Mujin, who had been listening quietly, interjected.

“So, Gwang Yeom-gak, you’re saying you’ll gather the people?"
"I think that’s the best course of action."
"That’s nonsense. You’ll have to stop by Shaolin first, and do you really think Myeong Sam will just listen to you? You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t try to kill you on the spot."
"If I stop by Wudang first and ask someone else to call Myeong Sam, it should be simple enough."
"That means someone has to backtrack, and the schedule will get delayed. Plus, if you go to Wudang alone without Namgoong Myung or me, people will get suspicious. They’ll think you’ve betrayed the righteous sects and joined the cult as a spy."
"Uh, um…”

Gwang Yeom-gak was taken aback. He hadn’t thought Tang Mujin was particularly clever, but everything he said was spot on, leaving no room for argument.

Tang Mujin concluded in a cool, decisive tone.

“Namgoong Myung can’t do the tracking, and you, Gwang Yeom-gak, can’t inspire trust. That leaves me as the only suitable candidate. Am I wrong?”

Namgoong Myung and Gwang Yeom-gak had no choice but to nod in agreement. The brief but intense debate ended with Tang Mujin’s victory.

Tang Mujin smiled with satisfaction.

However, an unexpected problem arose.

In their fervent discussion, they had overlooked something crucial: they needed to maintain a safe distance and move cautiously to avoid detection by the cult leader and his right-hand man.

The realization hit them when they locked eyes with the two figures ahead. The cult leader and his right-hand man stood silently in the deserted field, watching the three approach.

Tang Mujin, Namgoong Myung, Gwang Yeom-gak.
And the cult leader and his right-hand man.

A tense silence hung between the five.

”······”

Some people can’t handle such silence. Namgoong Myung, unable to bear the suffocating quiet, awkwardly greeted the cult leader.

“Uh… It’s been a while. Are your injuries healing well?”

The atmosphere grew even more serious.