Chapter 527

On their way toward the Blood Heaven Sect, Unhwi and Ju Soa stopped at an inn.

It was a small inn at the foot of a mountain. They intended to eat lunch. They ordered two bowls of noodles.

The inn was abuzz.

Martial artists had gathered inside. They occupied three or four tables and kept their voices low, but Unhwi could still hear what they were saying. There was no way he could not. They were too excited.

“Did you hear? They say the Sichuan Overlord has gone completely mad.”

“Mad?”

“They say he’s wiping out sects under the Murim Alliance. There are even rumors it’s already ten.”

“Ten? Didn’t you say six earlier?”

“Six was yesterday. They say four more were added today.”

Unhwi’s chopsticks stopped.

Ju Soa looked at him.

His expression had changed slightly.

“They say he won’t stop. Kang Cheonwoo himself is going around with his sword, sweeping away sects on the Murim Alliance’s side.”

“Is he insane? This means all-out war.”

“It is all-out war. Practically speaking. You think the Murim Alliance will just sit there?”

“Gun Mugeol will have no choice but to move.”

“Then it really will be war. Murim Alliance against Sichuan Alliance.”

Unhwi set down his chopsticks.

He could not eat any more noodles.

This wasn’t part of the plan.

When Kang Cheonwoo destroyed sects under the Murim Alliance, Unhwi had not been worried.

For an organization the size of the Sichuan Alliance, that much retaliation was only proper, if merely to preserve face.

And if those sects were spreading malicious rumors, then killing them was justified. The Murim Alliance could overlook that much as well.

Four or five sects.

Once it ended around that point, both the Murim Alliance and the Sichuan Alliance would have enough justification to preserve their positions.

Most importantly, even if the situation looked as though it stood on the verge of all-out war, Gun Mugeol was highly likely to retreat one step under the current circumstances.

Unhwi had not gone to the Sichuan Alliance for nothing.

Once the Blood Heaven Sect became involved, the best move for Gun Mugeol would be to withdraw for the moment and reconstruct the board.

If Gun Mugeol was the man Unhwi knew, he would probably act like this.

First, use the Primordial Pavilion to pressure Unhwi. Just as he had with the Heaven-Law Platform, turn Unhwi’s attention toward the Primordial Pavilion, make the two sides clash with each other, and then target the Sichuan Alliance again.

That was the most likely method.

But Kang Cheonwoo was not stopping.

He was rampaging.

He should have known perfectly well where his sword was meant to stop.

Suddenly, Unhwi’s brow furrowed hard.

Domination.

Not standing upon a road, but creating the road itself.

Those were the words Unhwi had said to Kang Cheonwoo.

...I know what kind of man Kang Cheonwoo is.

He knew.

And yet.

If things had gone this far, then Kang Cheonwoo had to have another intention.

There was clearly something he wanted.

And if what Unhwi had just thought was correct—

He dragged a hand down his face.

“Ju Soa.”

“Yes?”

“We’re turning back.”

Ju Soa’s eyes widened.

“...Turning back? Where?”

“To the Sichuan Alliance.”

“The Sichuan Alliance??”

“Yes.”

Unhwi rose from his seat.

He left the payment for the noodles on the table.

Then he walked out of the inn.

“We need to hurry.”

Ju Soa did not properly understand what was happening, but if Unhwi wanted to go, there had to be a reason.

Without a word of complaint, she followed him.

East again.

Back the way they had come.

This time, they used lightness arts.

Fast.

When they reached the border of Sichuan,

someone was waiting.

A man stood on the mountain road. He wore the martial uniform of the Sichuan Alliance. Late thirties. His face was deeply tanned. The skin of a man who had spent years on battlefields. A single saber hung at his waist.

When he saw Unhwi, he gave a deep clasped-hands salute.

“Are you Lord Unhwi?”

“I am.”

“My name is Zhao Hanfeng. I am a deputy commander of the Sichuan Alliance Guard.”

“If you are with the Guard, then you serve directly under Alliance Leader Kang?”

“Yes.”

Zhao Hanfeng spoke with his head bowed.

“The Alliance Leader told me something.”

“......”

“He said you would certainly return.”

Unhwi’s eyes shifted slightly.

Kang Cheonwoo had known he would return.

Known that he would hear the rumors and come back.

“The Alliance Leader left something for me to give you when you arrived.”

Zhao Hanfeng removed a bundle from his back.

It was heavy.

Wrapped in cloth.

Carefully.

He placed it in front of Unhwi.

“What is this?”

“I do not know what is inside either. The Alliance Leader wrapped and sealed it himself. He ordered that only you were to open it.”

Unhwi stared at the bundle.

His chest felt strangely heavy.

He did not know why.

No.

He did.

He could feel it.

Something had gone wrong.

“Where is the Alliance Leader now?”

Zhao Hanfeng was silent for a moment.

Then he spoke.

“...He left.”

“Where?”

“Southwest. For Kongling.”

Southwest.

The Central Plains.

Kongling, where the Murim Alliance was located.

“He said he was going to see a famous mountain there.”

Mount Taihua in Kongling was counted among the most celebrated scenic places in the land.

And the Murim Alliance’s headquarters stood on Mount Taihua.

His prediction had been right.

Unhwi asked,

“Did he go alone?”

“Yes.”

“With only one sword?”

“...Yes.”

Unhwi stared at the bundle.

His hand trembled.

Slightly.

He picked it up.

Untied the cloth.

Inside were several bound books.

He opened the first.

The handwriting was rough. Kang Cheonwoo’s handwriting. The script of a man accustomed not to holding a brush, but a sword. Rough, yet powerful.

Its contents.

Unhwi’s eyes widened.

It was a martial art.

Kang Cheonwoo’s exclusive martial art.

Thunderous Heavenly Heart Art.

The sword art he had created while unifying Sichuan, and the inner art Kang Cheonwoo had spent his entire life developing.

A martial art of which only one existed in the world. Every form, every mnemonic verse, every essential principle was recorded within, without a single omission.

The second book.

Methods for circulating internal power.

It recorded the entire course of Kang Cheonwoo’s training until he reached the Mixed Origin Sovereign Realm. The insights he had gained at each stage. How he had overcome each wall when he struck it. How he had altered the flow of his internal power.

The third book.

Records of real combat.

The insights Kang Cheonwoo had gained from the battles of his lifetime. What enemies he had fought, what he had learned, what he had realized.

Unhwi’s hands trembled.

This was all of Kang Cheonwoo.

The entire life of Kang Cheonwoo the martial artist was contained within these books.

For a martial artist to hand his martial arts to another was the same as handing over his own life.

And these were his exclusive martial arts.

The realizations of an entire lifetime.

Everything.

Why?

Unhwi’s chest grew heavy.

Why give this to me?

An envelope had been tucked behind the final book.

A letter.

Unhwi opened it.

His hand trembled.

He unfolded the letter.

Kang Cheonwoo’s handwriting.

—

I am no good at writing, so I will keep this short.

What you said in Overlord Hall is still ringing in my ears.

You asked me what Kang Cheonwoo from before the unification of Sichuan would say if he were sitting where I sat now.

I could not answer then.

Because you were too exactly right.

I thought about it.

For a long time.

What kind of bastard was I before I unified Sichuan?

It was simple.

If there was an enemy in front of me, I hit him.

I needed no justification.

There was no right or wrong.

My fist went first.

That was the road I walked.

Of course, I carry a sword now, but I began with my fists.

They gave it the grand name of domination, but that was its essence.

A fist.

Hitting things.

But at some point, my fists became heavy.

Just as you said, they became heavy because people gathered around me.

I crouched down because I wanted to protect them.

I became cautious.

Careful.

And somewhere along the way, I forgot the road I had once walked.

You reminded me of it.

Thank you.

So I decided.

I will return to the beginning.

If there is an enemy in front of me, I will hit him.

Gun Mugeol is an enemy.

That bastard tried to bring down the Sichuan Alliance.

He caused my people to die.

He framed us.

The solution you brought was a good one.

Reverse the justification, find evidence, turn public opinion.

A method worthy of a clever bastard.

But I am not a clever bastard.

I am a bastard with good fists.

There is only one thing I can do.

Stand in front of Gun Mugeol.

Myself.

You asked what Kang Cheonwoo from before the unification of Sichuan would have done if he saw this situation.

I will answer you.

He would have hit him.

He would have gone in front of that bastard and shouted for him to come out.

That is the domination I walk.

You said it was not standing upon a road, but creating the road itself.

You were right.

There is only one road I know how to create.

A road punched open with my fists.

Because that is all a bastard like me knows.

Do not worry.

I am not going there intending to die.

I am going there intending to win.

The Overlord has always descended from the heavens.

And this time, I will descend from the heavens again.

Right onto Gun Mugeol’s head.

But nothing is certain, so I am leaving my martial arts behind.

You will find them useful.

Even if you do not use them yourself, you can pass them on to your people.

I do not care.

And I have one request.

If I do not return.

Take care of Sichuan.

Not the Sichuan Alliance.

Sichuan.

Its martial artists.

Its people.

What I tried to protect.

I believe you can protect them.

No.

I do not merely believe it.

I am certain.

Because that is the kind of bastard you are.

You said the debt was repaid, but I still feel as though I am the one who owes you.

If I come back alive, let us have a drink.

Kang Cheonwoo, the Sichuan Overlord.

—

Unhwi lowered the letter.

Ju Soa looked at his face.

She could not see his expression.

His head was lowered.

His white hair covered his face.

For a long time.

He stood there like that for a long time.

Zhao Hanfeng cautiously spoke.

“Lord Unhwi......”

Unhwi raised his head.

He looked at the sky.

Dark.

The sun had set. The sky was stained blood-red. That blood-red glow was slowly being swallowed by darkness. Stars were appearing one by one.

The sky filled Unhwi’s eyes.

A dark sky.

Somewhere beneath that sky, Kang Cheonwoo was racing onward.

Carrying a single sword.

Alone.

Toward Gun Mugeol.

The Overlord had always descended from the heavens.

He had said he would descend from the heavens again this time.

Right onto Gun Mugeol’s head.

No words came.

The sky grew darker and darker.

Rain began to fall.

And soon,

it became a downpour.

***

Murim Alliance.

Rain poured down.

It was night.

Rain fell from the black sky. Heavy drops. The pounding against the roof echoed even inside the Alliance Leader’s Hall.

Lightning flashed.

The sky split white, then darkened again.

Gun Mugeol sat inside the Alliance Leader’s Hall.

Before his writing desk.

He was reading a book.

No.

Pretending to read one.

His eyes rested on the pages, but his gaze was not truly on them.

He was listening.

For something beyond the rain.

There was a presence.

Far away.

Approaching.

One.

A single presence was approaching the Alliance Leader’s Hall.

No.

It was approaching the Murim Alliance.

An immense force.

Mixed Origin Sovereign.

Gun Mugeol already knew.

He had sensed it half a day ago.

The enormous wave of power approaching from the east.

It did not conceal itself.

It surged forward openly and proudly.

Gun Mugeol gave a hollow laugh.

“Hah.”

He closed the book.

He reached for the sword standing beside his writing desk, then withdrew his hand.

After seeming to consider it for a moment, Gun Mugeol picked up the slender sword beside the longsword.

A thin, keen blade.

It looked frail from the outside, but in truth it was heavier than any great saber.

Just like Gun Mugeol.

A fox on the outside, a tiger within.

Silently, he left the Alliance Leader’s Hall.

He headed toward the rear garden.

Rain poured down.

His robe was soaked in an instant. His white hair clung to his forehead.

He paid it no mind.

The rear garden was broad.

There was a pond.

A pavilion.

Raindrops struck the surface of the pond, creating tens of thousands of ripples.

Lightning flashed again.

The rear garden was revealed in white for an instant before sinking back into darkness.

Gun Mugeol stood in the middle of the garden.

In the rain.

He looked up at the sky.

Black sky.

Something was descending through the rain.

Slowly.

Gradually.

No.

It was not slow.

When something enormous descends, it merely appears slow.

Like a mountain collapsing.

A shadow.

An enormous shadow was descending from the heavens.