The former Martial Righteous Alliance Leader remained silent, his gaze fixed on some distant point, but Yeon So-hyeon’s voice continued to cut through the quiet.
“Over there,” the Grand Young Master said, gesturing toward the broken figure behind Wang Cheol-jin. “Look at the Third Young Master, sprawled there like a discarded toy.”
Yeon Seo-rin, the Seamless Heavenly Robe, followed her brother’s hand to the unconscious Yeon Jeok-gwang. She noted with a clinical eye that the bleeding from his severed shoulder had already stopped, even without medical intervention, a testament to the miraculous Quanzhen heritage he had received.
“The current New Martial Righteous Alliance was formed with that brat as its figurehead,” So-hyeon continued. “It is a coalition consisting of the very people fighting below us: the Mount Hua and Wudang Sects, backed by the Namgung Clan. It is public knowledge that this ‘Alliance’ was the brainchild of the Namgung.”
“Naturally,” Seo-rin added, nodding without hesitation. “Jeok-gwang doesn’t have the brains to organize a local marketplace, let alone a continental coalition.” It was obvious to her that the Namgung Clan, Jeok-gwang’s maternal family, was the true architect.
“The Namgung saw the heights of absolute power the Martial Righteous Alliance once held,” So-hyeon said, his voice level despite Wang Cheol-jin’s lack of response. “But as we all know, the old Alliance was historically centered around the Nine Sects. The Great Clans provided the financial lifeblood and invested heavily, yet they were never treated as true peers.”
In those days, the Great Clans had not yet mastered the art of converting gold into the kind of absolute martial authority they wielded now.
“Back then,” Seo-rin interjected, “the world required raw, direct force to combat the Demonic Cult. That was something only the sects could provide.”
“Precisely, Sister.” So-hyeon gave her a small nod. “And so, in the aftermath, the Great Clans focused aggressively on cultivating their own military strength. It wasn’t a difficult transition; as the era shifted and the Central Plains’ economy boomed, the rising tide of wealth favored the clans over the isolated sects.”
He raised a single finger, his tone shifting to one of lecture. “And the most prominent example of that shift—”
“—Is our very own Luoyang Sword Clan,” Seo-rin finished, matching his rhythm.
“Exactly.” So-hyeon offered a brief, approving clap before lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “One by one, the traditional Nine Sects began to crumble. Some became subordinate branches, others chose to seal their gates in a desperate bid for preservation, but all of them were being left behind by time. This era… it is the twilight of the Nine Sects.”
“And so—”
“Grand Young Master.” Wang Cheol-jin finally spoke, slicing through So-hyeon’s historical analysis. “What is the point of this long-winded lecture?”
So-hyeon didn’t take offense at the interruption. Instead, he met the legend’s gaze with a sharp, expectant smile. “It’s simple, Alliance Leader. All of this context leads to a single, inevitable question.”
The smile was heavy with implication. So-hyeon paused, drawing out the silence until Wang Cheol-jin let out a weary, defeated sigh.
“Fine,” the former Leader muttered, crossing his arms. “What is the question?”
“Why,” So-hyeon asked instantly, “did they insist on naming this new coalition the ‘New Martial Righteous Alliance’ specifically?” He spread his hands in an exaggerated gesture. “The Demonic Cult is gone. Was it merely for the nostalgia? Did the Namgung just want to drape themselves in old glory? Or was it to make it easier for the surviving sects to fall in line?”
At this point, Wang Cheol-jin had to admit that speaking with this boy was more mentally taxing than a week of high-level cultivation.
“What are you implying, Yeon So-hyeon?”
“I asked you to look in a different direction, Alliance Leader,” So-hyeon said, his smile deepening. “If the Demonic Cult were to actually return, as they have now, and this fact were to become common knowledge, where would the people of the Central Plains flock for protection?”
As a man who had once sat at the absolute zenith of such an organization, Wang Cheol-jin couldn’t fail to understand. “…They would flock to the ‘Martial Righteous Alliance.'”
So-hyeon shrugged. “The name carries the mandate.”
“…Then you’re saying…” Wang Cheol-jin clenched his jaw, his hand going to his forehead. Behind his fingers, his eyes flared with a cold, celestial light. “The one… or the group… who created this ‘New Martial Righteous Alliance’ knew? They knew the Cult still existed and that it would return one day? But that would mean…”
“—Of course,” So-hyeon interrupted, his tone nonchalant. “It is merely my personal theory, built upon a series of intuitive leaps. However, if we assume they did know the Cult would resurge, don’t all the disparate pieces of the puzzle suddenly snap into a perfect, terrifying whole?”
Wang Cheol-jin groaned, his face still masked by his hand. It was an undeniable reality that the Cult, which had remained dormant beneath the surface for decades, had begun to manifest this year. And more tellingly, their first point of emergence had been Luoyang, the very heart of the New Martial Righteous Alliance.
“…And Grand Strategist Sima?” Wang Cheol-jin’s voice was a low rumble, like magma churning in the depths. “Did he know this from the beginning?”
The intensity of the question was so great that even the formidable Yeon Seo-rin felt her breath hitch. It felt as though if So-hyeon said yes, Wang Cheol-jin would charge into the battlefield and slaughter the strategist where he stood.
“No,” So-hyeon replied without a second of hesitation, neatly defusing the tension. “I suspect Grand Strategist Sima knew nothing of the Cult until this spring.”
Seo-rin kept her face neutral, but inwardly, she felt a pang of regret. If only he’d said Sima knew… we could have turned the Alliance Leader against the Strategist for good.
As if sensing her thoughts, Wang Cheol-jin fixed his glowing eyes on the Grand Young Master. “Thus far… everything you have said rings with truth.”
The phrasing was odd, an assertion that he could fundamentally judge the veracity of the words spoken to him.
Seo-rin felt a sudden, icy chill crawl up her spine. Those eyes! She realized she had overlooked the eerie light emanating from Wang Cheol-jin’s pupils since the start of the encounter. Is that a technique? A divine ability to discern the truth?!
“For men in our positions,” So-hyeon said, meeting the legend’s gaze with unnerving calm, “or for those who used to be in them, a dialogue of absolute honesty is sometimes a necessity, is it not?”
Wang Cheol-jin couldn’t argue. Indeed, So-hyeon’s bluntness had been more effective at breaking through his iron-clad defenses than any diplomatic maneuvering could have been. Has this boy already noticed the ‘Cleansed Sight’ of Quanzhen? he wondered. No… it doesn’t matter. What matters is that he is speaking the truth.
As Wang Cheol-jin fell back into contemplation, So-hyeon pressed on. “Based on the Military Strategy Bureau’s actions, Sima likely deduced the Cult’s presence around spring.”
This time, the former Leader spoke naturally, his mask of silence finally cracking. “…And a man of Sima’s caliber would have started connecting the dots immediately.”
“Precisely,” So-hyeon confirmed. “He would have realized why the New Martial Righteous Alliance was named so, why it was founded in Luoyang, and exactly why the architects of this alliance sought him out specifically.”
“…And so,” Wang Cheol-jin’s voice thickened, “Sima chose to acquiesce. He decided to ride the wave rather than fight it.”
So-hyeon gave a slow, solemn nod. “He did.”
***
The Cleansed Sight, one of the secret Immortal Arts of the Quanzhen Sect, was not an omnipotent tool.
It couldn’t read a person’s specific thoughts, nor could it identify a Cultist who had been “seeded” but not yet “sprouted.”
Yet, without this eye, I never would have become the Alliance Leader, nor would I have survived the position, Wang Cheol-jin thought.
Simultaneously, the Cleansed Sight had been his greatest curse, planting a seed of overwhelming skepticism toward humanity.
“We will devote our lives to the Alliance Leader and the Alliance! We will restore peace to the Central Plains!”
“Alliance Leader, I care nothing for power. I only seek the rank of Elder to fight the Cult more effectively!”
“Alliance Leader! The depraved monsters might return at any moment! The Alliance must endure to protect the world!”
From the graduation ceremonies of new recruits to the interviews for high-ranking elders, every word had been a lie.
Even the pleas from those who begged him to return from seclusion to restore order were hollow. There might have been a thread of truth in their words, but it was always buried under a mountain of deception.
He had never used the Cleansed Sight on those close to him, both because the visible light of the technique made it impossible to hide and because he feared what he would see.
Was it a mercy that the previous successors never tried to refine this art further? he wondered. If I could read the lies in the hearts of everyone I loved, would I have remained sane?
“…Grand Young Master.”
A significant amount of time had passed. Wang Cheol-jin finally opened his eyes, the celestial light of the Cleansed Sight now extinguished.
Seo-rin couldn’t logically explain why he had turned the technique off, but her heart sensed the reason. He had made a choice.
“Answer me one more thing,” Wang Cheol-jin said.
“Ask.”
“Are you…” He hesitated for a fraction of a second. “…the one they call the Venerable One of Dark Heavens?”
So-hyeon didn’t blink. “I am.”
Before Seo-rin could even react to the admission, her brother continued, his voice echoing with a dark, resonant authority.
“I am the one who breathes in the shadows and brings down the sword of judgment. I am the existence that punishes all the evil and karma of this world.”