Wudang Sacred Scriptures

Having achieved the Sword Guided by Qi, Kwak Yeon left the hut without hesitation.
He wondered what might be happening now that the Waryong Hall Lord had been killed.
He had told Gate Constable Kang to spread the word as widely as possible, so surely the entire martial world had been thrown into an uproar.

The Jeong Family would have no choice but to act, and above all, he was curious how Grand Elder Yunhak Jin-in of Mount Wudang would respond.
This event must have confirmed to them that he had emerged into the world. By now, they would also know he had secularized.
But what could they possibly do?

He had returned to the mundane world and become a reintegrated Daoist. He was no longer bound to follow Wudang’s orders.
The reason why Unseon Daoist had secularized him was crystal clear.
To kill evil and slay corruption.

Wudang’s orders could simply be ignored.
A disciple who reenters the secular world to carry out a righteous cause—there was no compelling reason for Wudang Sect to obstruct him.
Kwak Yeon thought even the Jeong Family would not be able to openly provoke him.

Had he turned Waryong Hall into a pool of blood, they might have acted publicly.
Kwak Yeon had held back and yielded, summoning patience because he did not wish to witness meaningless bloodshed.
But if they were incapable of recognizing even that intention, then he would face them without reservation.

At last, Kwak Yeon arrived at Aknyang Prefecture Fortress.
He considered heading straight to Aknyang Pavilion, but since it was late, he decided to first find a guesthouse and settle in for the night.
After dropping off his belongings in the room, he went down to the dining hall.

Aknyang was a major city in Hunan Province, at the heart of the Dongting Lake region. With the presence of the Aknyang Pavilion, a sacred ground of the martial world, martial artists frequently gathered there.
Surely, he could hear more news from the martial world than he had in the small villages he passed through.
Until now, he had barely heard a whisper about the incident at Waryong Hall in Shinya Prefecture. The silence was so complete, it made him question whether the event had even happened.
Each time he encountered groups of martial artists in guesthouses and inns, he kept his ears open. But none ever mentioned the incident.

It was strange, almost unnaturally so.
Kwak Yeon had a faint sense of understanding.
It was because the Jeong Family had made no public move.

“There must be someone clever within the Jeong Family.”
Instead of moving rashly and confirming the event as indisputable fact, they had maintained deep silence, letting the story wither into mere rumor—and thereby shielding the family from disgrace.
They had likely sworn the Waryong Hall members to silence. Or perhaps the residents believed the Hall Lord had simply entered closed-door cultivation.

After all, the only person who directly witnessed the Hall Lord’s death that day had been the strategist, Jeong Seung-su. He must have handled the matter discreetly and contacted the main family in secret.
In any case, the only person capable of silencing the entire Jeong Family like this had to be the family’s patriarch—
Jegal Jin, the Hidden Dragon of Divine Stratagem.

The Jeong Family was known for never forgetting a grudge.
Their silence carried a clear implication.
They had not made any formal protest to the Wudang Sect. By keeping quiet, they preserved the option to exact revenge without regard for Wudang.

One way or another, it was certain the Jeong Family would not let this pass quietly.
But Kwak Yeon did not care.
In all things, when performing righteous acts, he never gave thought to future repercussions.

In any case, the Jeong Family was not his concern right now.
After ordering food, he calmly observed his surroundings. Sure enough, groups of martial artists were scattered throughout the room.
Kwak Yeon listened closely.

He hoped to hear new rumors about Waryong Hall.
But contrary to his expectations, no one mentioned it.
The common topic among the martial artists was the upcoming Hwayeong Assembly at Aknyang Pavilion.

Though it did not compare to the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering—the conclave of top successors from the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Clans—it was still a prestigious meeting of promising heirs from mid-tier martial sects.
All the rising elites were desperate to join. There was even talk that without Hwayeong Assembly membership, there was no future, prompting clans and sects to throw their full support behind their sons and disciples to gain entry.
But the conditions, it seemed, were extremely demanding. The debate among the martial artists was intense.

One not only had to come from a renowned family or sect, but also possess extraordinary martial skill.
“But what matters most is personal accomplishment,” said one. “Honestly, who verifies martial skill? Those staged sparring matches or the praise of some elder? Useless. In real combat, most freeze up and die without swinging their sword.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” another replied. “That’s why the Hwayeong Assembly only admits members based on proven achievements. It’s the fairest way.”

“Exactly. You may not be a great scourge-slayer, but if you can take down a local menace, you’ll earn a nickname and get your foot in the door. Problem is, finding one of those villains isn’t easy. Everyone’s hunting them now, and the bastards stay hidden.”
“And if you do find one? You’d get your head lopped off before drawing your blade. Honestly, it’s a blessing they stay in hiding.”
“Right. For all we know, there might be one of those villains in this very guesthouse listening to us right now.”

The martial artists glanced around nervously.
Their eyes settled briefly on Kwak Yeon, sitting alone, but when he feigned indifference, they looked relieved and went back to whispering.
“That young swordsman’s probably here for the Hwayeong Assembly too.”

“Makes sense. Half the young martial men in Aknyang right now are here for that. Ah, look, another one just walked in.”
“I know that one,” someone said. “I saw him at Aknyang Pavilion with his companions. He’s the direct disciple of Hangju’s Hyeongui Sect—came all the way to join the Hwayeong Assembly.”
“Then he must have a title already?”

“Didn’t hear one that day, but being the Hyeongui Sect’s direct successor, it’s practically a done deal he’ll be accepted.”
“Damn, I envy that. Even if it’s not the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, joining the Hwayeong Assembly means rubbing shoulders with the heirs of major sects and clans. That’s a golden future right there.”
As he listened, Kwak Yeon turned his gaze to where the Hyeongui Sect disciple was seated.

The young martial artist, dressed in resplendent robes, sat alone.
He kept glancing at the entrance, clearly waiting for someone.
“Looks like he’s expecting a companion.”

Kwak Yeon had no particular interest in the Hwayeong Assembly or in titles, so he turned his head indifferently.
Then he sensed a disturbance in the air.
“Transmission of Sound?”

When someone used secret voice transmission, it stirred the air. Kwak Yeon, a master of perception in the realm of inner transformation, could feel it.
He saw the Hyeongui Sect disciple flinch—and realized he was receiving a voice transmission.
Naturally, one could not eavesdrop on such transmissions.

But as he watched the disciple’s expression stiffen with tension, Kwak Yeon sensed something was wrong.
Before long, he had concealed himself behind the outer wall of the guesthouse’s annex.
Had the Hyeongui Sect disciple not looked around anxiously before rising from his seat—or had he not kept glancing behind as he walked away—Kwak Yeon wouldn’t have followed him this far.

Realizing that the young man might be under threat or entangled in something vile, Kwak Yeon had no choice but to follow him.
A man with a face that resembled a rat had cleared the area around the annex and was waiting for the disciple of Hyeongui Sect.
“Young Lord Jeong, are you certain no one followed you?”

“I checked several times on my way here. I parted from my companions early, saying I had other matters, so there’s no reason for anyone to take interest.”
“Truthfully, one of our people followed you from a distance to be sure. You're here through the introduction of Young Lord Danmok, the president of the Hwayeong Assembly, so we trust you—but caution is unavoidable. We hope you understand.”
“Of course.”

“Then come inside.”
Once the two men entered the annex and shut the door, Kwak Yeon approached the window in silence.
But the window was tightly closed, and they spoke in voices so low he couldn’t make out what was being said.

Kwak Yeon channeled his internal qi to its utmost, heightening his hearing.
They couldn’t have imagined that a master in the realm of internal transformation was eavesdropping.
Then came the rustle of paper, followed by the voice of the rat-faced man.

“Go to Hyeopmungok tomorrow at midnight and wait. Here—this is the location. One side is a thousand-foot cliff, the other a sheer drop with a narrow path. You’ll find it easily. The demonic rogue will arrive by no later than the mid-hour.”
“Are you certain?”
“We’ve never failed to ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) deliver. Not once.”

“I know that… but still.”
“Young Lord Jeong, what’s troubling you?”
“That demonic rogue’s condition…”

“Tch. If even Mountain Bell Toxin can’t set your mind at ease, what else do you want? Should we sever one of his arms just to reassure you? Then your epithet would be halved, and that wouldn’t be enough for Assembly membership.”
Kwak Yeon was stunned as he listened.
It was a scheme more grotesque than anything he’d ever heard of.

“That can’t be allowed.”
The disciple’s urgent voice was met with the rat-faced man’s calm reply.
“Young Lord Jeong, as you must have heard from Young Lord Danmok, we’ve created epithets for over a dozen Hwayeong Assembly members. And not once has a client come to harm. A few were injured, but that was due to their own carelessness. The opponent has been chosen to match your martial level, so you needn’t worry. We’ve already weakened the demonic rogue’s internal qi with Mountain Bell Toxin.”

“Understood.”
“Just don’t kill him outright. Injure him heavily and wait until the start of the hour of the rat—by then, several martial artists will arrive at the scene. Deliver the finishing blow in front of them. By the morning after, you’ll be hailed as the valiant hero who slew the demonic rogue single-handedly. Do you have an epithet in mind? We’ll spread word under that name.”
“I get to choose it myself?”

“What is an epithet, really? Once people start talking, that’s what it becomes.”
“Then… use Hero of Hangju.”
“Hero of Hangju… isn’t that a bit weak? How about Demon-Slashing Divine Hero, or Demon-Slaying God Blade?”

“Those are a bit too grand. They feel burdensome.”
“Whatever you say. Either way, someone will come find you after it’s done.”
“Are you truly doing all this without taking payment?”

“Didn’t we say we’re not mercenaries?”
“Still, luring that demonic rogue must’ve cost quite a bit. I find it hard to believe you’re doing it just for half a martial form.”
“Then will you hand over your sect’s entire martial system?”

“You know very well that leaking a sect’s martial arts is out of the question.”
“Which is why we only asked for half a form. What could anyone possibly do with that?”
“That’s why I agreed, but still… I’m curious.”

“Our faction must develop a new martial technique. We can’t copy Hyeongui Sect outright. But using half a form as a reference wouldn’t stand out. And frankly, we only value it this highly because it’s from your sect.”
“…”
“In any case, you must keep your promise. If it turns out to be a faulty form… I think you can imagine what will happen.”

At that point, Kwak Yeon turned away from the annex.
He couldn’t listen any longer—it was making him nauseous.