Dong Bong-soo stood atop the tiled roof of the newly completed [Alchemy Workshop], his gaze sweeping over the bustling landscape of the sect grounds.
Even as he watched, he adjusted his internal settings to maintain a steady stream of communication via [Whisper].
[You remember everything I told you earlier, right?]
Below him, the vibrant scene of the Founding Ceremony filled his vision.
[Based on that information, there is only one objective you need to focus on.]
The interior of the Hero Gate was packed with people who had traveled from every corner of Gangdo. This was the formal inauguration of a sect that had, in a shockingly short span of time, suppressed the Iron God Society, the Seven Star Immortal Assembly, and the Bandit Alliance.
While the physical scale of the ceremony wasn't yet grand enough to rival the great sects of the Central Plains, the eyes of every guest present were filled with profound gravity. Not a single person here was ignorant of the fact that the very power balance of Gangdo had shifted overnight.
[Value]
[Your only job is to raise the perceived value of the Hero Gate.]
At the front of the training grounds, the children of the sect stood in disciplined, neat rows, dressed in crisp new robes. Ho-ae stood at the very front of the line, her small back as straight as a spear. Beside her, Jeon Ra-hwa moved with practiced grace, calmly reviewing the order of events for the day.
In the high-profile VIP seats, Eom Bi-ryeong and Myo Jin-heo sat side by side as honored guests. Across from them, Yao Han-myeong from the local government office and representatives of the Beggar's Sect watched the proceedings while sipping their tea.
The sight of two Trigram Leaders from the legendary Heavenly Formation Tower seated as guests at the founding of an obscure, local sect caused a constant, low ripple of murmurs to spread among the gathered martial artists.
[Remember.]
[If you want to ask the 'Question' you seek, this ceremony must proceed without a single flaw.]
With that, the [Whisper] fell silent.
Closing his chat window and the translucent minimap hovering in his peripheral vision, Dong Bong-soo descended from the roof with a fluid motion.
The Founding Ceremony-the day the name Hero Gate would finally be announced to the world.
But this was merely the opening act. The "makeup' was finished, and the "surgery" on the sect's reputation was complete. Although the situation had deviated slightly from his original projections, it had evolved in a direction that was, if anything, 120% more satisfying than his initial plan.
'Now it's time to create the demand.'
His goal was to make a massive, ancient force like the Heavenly Formation Tower voluntarily seek out the Hero Gate. He needed the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect to recognize his sect as an indispensable ally that they couldn't afford to ignore.
To achieve that, the Heavenly Formation Tower first had to be swayed to the side of the Orthodox Path.
And the catalyst for that shift had to be the Hero Gate-the benefactor who facilitated the alliance.
From Orthodox Path's perspective, the Hero Gate would become their greatest strategic contributor.
'And once I leak the information about the annihilation of the Sword Patrol Corps and Sang Gwan-hwi's use of Evil arts...'
'Heh,'
This brewing conflict between the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect and the Dark Net Rakshasa Path is the perfect stage.
It would be the heroic debut of 'Kim Rae-won" into the Central Plains, positioning the Hero Gate as the ultimate guardian of chivalry and justice.
Dong Mu-toe.
That man was the perfect "setup man" for this entire board. Even without the binding power of the oath, for the sake of the "Question" he so desperately wanted answered, he would arrange this stage perfectly.
Of course, the finishing blow...
'I'll deliver that myself.
Dong Bong-soo wiped his face with both hands. To a casual observer, it looked like a man easing his pre-ceremony nerves. In reality, beneath the press of his palms, the muscles of his face were weaving the perfect expression.
A gentle, humble smile filled with just a hint of restrained tension-exactly the look a young, rising sect leader should wear on the most important day of his life.
As his hands lowered, Dong Bong-soo revealed that perfectly composed smile and walked toward his guests.
From here on, it was Dong Mu-toe's time to shine-even if he was hundreds of li away.
***
"Have any of you perhaps heard of a newly founded sect called the Hero Gate?"
Inside the Eight Trigram Hall, Dong Mu-toe released his chin from his hand and crossed his index and middle fingers, "walking" them across the surface of the circular table like a pair of legs.
Tap, tap.
The light sound echoed in the sudden, heavy silence that gripped the hall.
Hero Gate.
It was a name no one in the room had ever encountered.
"...What did you say?" Baek Jang-gyeong narrowed his eyes, his voice rumbling with suspicion.
"Hero Gate? I have never heard of such a place."
"Yes, well, that's only natural. It is a very new sect, Dong Mu-toe answered airily.
"Some unheard-of... ahem."
"What was it? Regardless, which side does this sect align with? The Orthodox Path or the Unorthodox Faction?"
"Neither. It advocates the Middle Path."
"The Middle Path?" Baek Jang-gyeong frowned deeply.
"It is a sect based in Gangdo, Dong Mu-toe added.
"Gangdo? Where is that?" The Trigram Leader of the Wind Formation Division, who had been listening intently, finally interjected. "Gangdo... isn't that that wretched place where minor factions tear at each other like beasts over petty interests every day?"
"It used to be," Dong Mu-toe nodded.
The use of the past tense went unnoticed by most of the leaders. To them, Gangdo was simply too insignificant to warrant attention within the broader Martial World.
Click, click, click.
Ga Myo-ryeon's abacus clicked three times in rapid succession. Her narrow eyes half-opened, fixing a sharp gaze on Dong Mu-toe.
"Trigram Leader Dong Mu-toe. There must be a specific reason you are bringing up an unknown sect the moment you return to a meeting that has been deadlocked for two days."
"A reason?"
"This isn't just a clever way to change the subject, is it?"
Ga Myo-ryeon. As expected, the woman was as sharp as a needle..
[Remember. If you want to ask the 'Question' you seek, this must proceed without a single flaw.]
That intent he had received from Kim Rae-won-not through voice or text, but a meaning as sharp as a honed blade-burned in his mind. It had been a one-way transmission, but Dong Mu-toe knew that if he wanted to keep seeking answers from that man, this meeting was the critical junction. He could endure physical pain or even the threat of death, but he could not endure ignorance. Never ignorance.
"The reason is simple."
Dong Mu-toe stopped his fingers, placed both elbows on the table, and interlocked his hands.
"If we look at exactly why this debate has been stalled for forty-eight hours..." He swept his gaze across the room.
"If we stand with the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect, we gain prestige but lack immediate resources. If we stand with the Dark Net Rakshasa Path, we gain massive resources but forfeit our dignity. Both of those arguments are correct."
Baek Jang-gyeong's shoulders relaxed slightly as his point was acknowledged. Ga Myo-ryeon's abacus also paused.
"But the real problem with this structure lies elsewhere." Dong Mu-toe raised one finger.
"The issue isn't Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect or Dark Net Rakshasa Path."
"The problem is the structure itself-whichever side the Heavenly Formation Tower chooses, it
automatically becomes the mortal enemy of the other."
"Stand with Orthodox Path, and Unorthodox Path becomes our foe."
"Stand with Unorthodox Path, and the entire Orthodox Path turns against us. That is the real issue."
A brief, heavy silence fell over the Eight Trigram Hall.
"But such risks have always existed for our Tower, have they not?" the Wind Trigram Leader argued.
"No. This is not like before. Have you all forgotten the Blood Heaven Great Chaos?"
At that single phrase, every face in the room paled. The bloodstorm that had nearly consumed the Central Plains a century ago was not a memory anyone trifled with.
Dong Mu-toe continued calmly. "Ah, so you all believe this is merely a minor skirmish?"
"You think this won't escalate into a full-scale war on the level of the Orthodox-Demonic-Evil War?"
[Listen carefully.]
"You likely don't know this yet."
"You likely don't know this yet."
[The Sword Patrol Corps that was heading to Gangdo has been annihilated.]
"TheSword Patrol Corps, which was traveling to gather allies for the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect, has been completely wiped out. Before the war has even officially begun, the casualties are already at this level. Who among you can guarantee how much worse it will get?"
As Dong Mu-toe revealed the intelligence, shock rippled through the hall like a physical wave.
"Ridiculous! That makes no sense!"
"Trigram Leader Dong Mu-toe? Are you claiming that even Sang Gwan-hwi is dead?"
"Impossible! If such an event had occurred, our intelligence network would have flagged it immediately!"
The room erupted into chaos. Baek Jang-gyeong slammed the table with such force that a crack appeared in the wood.
"The Sword Patrol Corps annihilated? Sang Gwan-hwi dead? The youngest of the Vast Heaven Three Swords? If that were true, the entire Central Plains would already be in a state of total upheaval!"
The Wind Trigram Leader shook his head vehemently."
If an elite squad were wiped out, the main sect would have mobilized by now."
"How could you possibly know something that our own network hasn't detected?"
It was a logical, reasonable doubt. And yet, Dong Mu-toe maintained his infuriatingly calm smile.
Tap, tap.
His fingers began to "walk" across the table once more. He had anticipated this. This was the core of his play.
"You're right. Our Heavenly Formation Tower did not know."
That single admission silenced the shouting.
"But the Hero Gate did."
Dong Mu-toe stopped his fingers and flattened both hands on the table.
"The information I just gave you came directly from Kim Rae-won, the Sect Leader of the Hero Gate."
"The annihilation of the squad near Gangdo, the death of Sang Gwan-hwi... this is information currently unknown to our Tower, and likely not yet officially confirmed even by the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect itself.
"...What?" Baek Jang-gyeong's expression shifted from rage to bewilderment.
"A leader of some new, local sect knew an elite unit of the First Sword was annihilated before we did?"
"Yes," Dong Mu-toe nodded firmly. "That is precisely why I brought up the Hero Gate."
Click.
A single bead on Ga Myo-ryeon's abacus moved. Her narrow eyes widened slightly.
What she was calculating now wasn't gold or formation stones-it was the weight of intelligence. The value of a force that possessed information that the Heavenly Formation Tower's vast network could not grasp.
"Trigram Leader Dong Mu-toe." Ga Myo-ryeon swept her abacus clear with a single motion.
"The source of this information is unverified. This new sect could be spreading falsehoods simply to inflate their own worth."
"That's a possibility," Dong Mu-toe replied smoothly.
"But Trigram Leader Ga, let me ask you: where is the Sword Patrol Corps at this very moment?"
"2"
"They departed the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect heading toward Gangdo days ago. Their scheduled arrival time has long since passed. Yet, there has been no report of their arrival at any liaison station. Not one."
Silence.
"A lack of a report means one of two things: either they arrived and decided not to report-which is unlikely for an elite squad-or they were rendered unable to report." Dong Mu-toe tapped a finger on the table.
"It has been over forty-eight hours with zero contact. People who should be at their destination are missing. How would you interpret that?"
Baek Jang-gyeong clenched his teeth. Ga Myo-ryeon's abacus went perfectly still.
This was no longer about interpretation; it was becoming a cold confirmation.
The Wind Trigram Leader asked in a trembling voice, "Then... how does this 'Hero Gate' have such information? Were they present at the site of the slaughter?"
"That is..." Dong Mu-toe paused for a moment, his smile widening. "That's not a question I am suited to answer. You should probably ask the Sect Leader of the Hero Gate directly, shouldn't you? Haha."
He didn't say he didn't know. He gave them the unmistakable impression that he knew the truth but was not permitted to speak it.
"Ask him directly?" Baek Jang-gyeong's eyes bulged.
"Yes, directly."
"Do you think that makes any sense?! Why would the Heavenly Formation Tower deign to meet the leader of some unknown, minor sect regarding a matter of this magnitude?!"
"Ah, yes. I expected you'd say that. So I prepared a little more. Please, listen." Dong Mu-toe leaned back in his chair, looking perfectly at ease. "I faced that Sect Leader myself."
The hall fell into a deathly silence.
"And the result?"
"Defeat."
The word hung in the air like a heavy shroud. The hall seemed to freeze.
"I lost. Completely and utterly," Dong Mu-toe said, his tone devoid of any shame.
A Trigram Leader had been defeated by the leader of a brand-new sect.
Ga Myo-ryeon's abacus began moving with a frantic speed. "Trigram Leader Dong Mu-toe... if you had to quantify his strength?"
"It cannot be quantified."
The abacus stopped abruptly.
"I could not measure him by any standard I possess. That is why I am telling you that you must meet him in person." Dong Mu-toe scanned the stunned faces of his peers. "I'll summarize the situation."
He raised his hand and folded his thumb. 'First, the war between Orthodox and Unorthodox has progressed much further than we realized. The annihilation of the Sword Patrol Corps is the proof."
He folded his index finger. "Second, whichever side our Tower chooses, we will become the mortal enemy of the other. Therefore, we must choose the winning side. Remaining neutral is no longer a viable option."
He folded his middle finger. "Third, this incredibly powerful-albeit new-sect, the Hero Gate, wishes to negotiate with us regarding this entire matter."
Then, after a brief, dramatic pause, he folded his ring finger as well.
"Fourth. Trigram Leader Myo Jin-heo and Trigram Leader Eom Bi-ryeong are currently at the Hero Gate as we speak."
-x-X-x-
Inside the Eight Trigram Hall, the weight of the fourth statement hung in the air like a physical shroud.
The silence that followed was absolute. It was the kind of silence that didn't just signify a lack of noise, but a total cessation of thought.
The Trigram Leaders of the Heavenly Formation Tower, men and women who calculated the movements of the stars and the flow of the earth, found themselves staring at the empty air as if their internal gears had suddenly ground to a halt.
Two Trigram Leaders-the pillars of the Fire and Thunder Divisions-were currently staying at an unheard-of, newly established sect in the backwaters of Gangdo?
Combined with Dong Mu-toe, that made three of the Tower's eight greatest authorities concentrated in a single, obscure location. To the strategic minds in the room, it wasn't just a statistical anomaly; it was a geopolitical crisis.
Sss-.
A faint, sharp sound of porcelain sliding against porcelain cut through the stillness. All eyes shifted toward the head of the table.
Jin Mu-geuk, the Grand Zenith-the living legend whispered to be capable of sealing the entire Cloud Ridge Mountain Range with a single sweep of his sleeve-slowly lifted his teacup.
He took a measured sip of the still-steaming liquid.
He did not set the cup down immediately. He held it just below his lips, his eyes hooded and unreadable. It was impossible to tell if he was savoring the tea or the sheer absurdity of the report he had just received.
Below him, the tension reached a breaking point. As expected, the one to shatter the calm before the storm was the Heaven Trigram Leader.
Bang-!
The octagonal table groaned.
Baek Jang-gyeong's massive, calloused palm slammed into the wood with enough force to send a shockwave through the room. A stray teacup rolled toward the edge, but he didn't even glance at it. His face was a mask of thunderous indignation.
"Why are two Trigram Leaders of our Formation Tower idling in a place like that!?" his voice boomed, rattling the rafters of the Great Tower.
He pointed a shaking finger at the two glaringly empty seats. It wasn't just the absence of his colleagues that enraged him; it was the humiliating implication behind it.
"Didn't they claim the matter was urgent?" the Wind Trigram Leader added, his voice tight with confusion. "Both Lord Eom and Lord Myo left under the guise of an emergency. What in the heavens does that have to do with this 'Hero Gate?"
The collective focus of the room snapped back to Dong Mu-toe.
Mu-toe didn't flinch. He remained buried deep in his chair, his arms tucked lazily behind his head, observing the chaos he had sown with the detached interest of a theater-goer. A sly, irritating smirk curled the corner of his mouth.
"Who knows," he drawled.
"Who knows!?" Baek Jang-gyeong roared.
"It is certain the two came to Gangdo to find me," Mu-toe said, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the table.
Tap. Tap.
"But as for the rest... I suppose I'd have to see it for myself to be sure, wouldn't I?"
He let out a short, private chuckle.
Heh.
"Though, if I had to venture a guess... perhaps they arrived, picked a fight they couldn't win, and got themselves captured? It's a possibility."
He spoke as if he were discussing a stranger's misfortune rather than his own kin. The veins on Baek Jang-gyeong's temple throbbed violently.
"You dare joke about the dignity of the Tower-!"
"Joke? It is a fact that they are at the Hero Gate."
"It is a fact they came looking for me. And is that not 'urgent' enough?" Mu-toe shrugged, his eyes glinting with a dangerous light.
"After all, I was the first to be subdued."
The word 'subdued' acted like a cold drench of water.
Dong Mu-toe-the greatest genius in the history of their Tower-had been defeated. Now, two more Trigram Leaders were missing in the same location. The mental abacuses in the room began to click at a frantic pace.
Click.
Ga Myo-ryeon's fingers flew across her beads. Her expression had shifted from skepticism to a chilling, professional precision.
"Lord Dong Mu-toe," she said, her voice like a knife edge. "If two Trigram Leaders are indeed 'staying' at the Hero Gate... no matter how one interprets the semantics, that sect's presence is far greater than anyone in the Central Plains has assumed."
Click, click.
"Communication is severed. Our network is blind. And you claim they possess the power to defeat a Trigram Leader in single combat?"
Mu-toe shook his head slightly. "To be precise, the Sect Leader alone defeated me. As for their network... I cannot say. Whether the man is simply that capable, or if he is secretly backed by the Beggar's Sect, remains to be seen."
"The Beggar's Sect?" Ga Myo-ryeon's narrow eyes sharpened. "Then they are not a mere 'new sect. They are a variable we have failed to account for."
"Whether he subdued them or is hosting them as honored guests, I do not know," Mu-toe said, his tone turning surprisingly grave.
"But typically, someone seeking a negotiation doesn't go around cutting off the heads of their potential partners. Especially..."
He paused, a faint smile returning to his pale face.
"...on the day of their Founding Ceremony."
***
Gangdo
The Hero Gate Training Grounds.
"And now, we will hear the speech from the Hero Gate's Sect Leader."
Jeon Ra-hwa's voice, steady and clear, resonated across the training grounds.
In the guest pavilion, Eom Bi-ryeong sat with her back as straight as a spear. It was a reflexive habit-whenever she felt the weight of a powerful presence, her martial artist's instincts forced her into a perfect, defensive posture.
Her gaze was locked onto the platform.
Dong Bong-su-or rather, the man the world now knew as Kim Rae-won-stepped forward.
He wore a simple, elegant black robe.
The Demon-Expelling Annihilation Wheel Sword at his waist gleamed with a cold, silver light under the morning sun. He looked young-impossibly young to be the master of such a place-yet his face carried the terrifying composure of one who had already looked beyond the horizon of mortal martial arts.
Unconsciously, Eom Bi-ryeong found herself folding her hands neatly on her knees, like a student before a master.
'Kim Rae-won.
This was the man who had subdued Dong Mu-toe. This was the man who had faced both her and Myo Jin-heo simultaneously and walked through their combined formations as if he were strolling through a garden.
And yet, as he stood on the stage, that overwhelming, crushing aura was gone. It hadn't just been suppressed; it had vanished entirely.
In its place was a gentle, almost approachable warmth.
His eyes softened as they swept over the rows of children.
He looked at Ho-ae, who was standing at the front with his tiny fists clenched in determination. He glanced at Ra-hwa, who offered a small, knowing smile.
Opposite Eom Bi-ryeong, the Governor of Gangdo and the branch leader of the Beggar's Sect sat in stunned silence. They, like everyone else, were trying to reconcile the "Monster of Gangdo' with the calm young man on the stage.
The scale of the ceremony wasn't grand, but the intensity of the crowd's focus was unlike anything Eom Bi-ryeong had ever seen.
'Strange, she thought.
'Someone who rose to power this quickly... a man who suppressed the Iron God Society and the Bandit Alliance... his hands should be stained with blood.'
'His sect should feel like a fortress of fear.'
Yet, as she looked around, she saw only absolute trust. To the people of Gangdo, this wasn't a sect headquarters. It was a sanctuary.
Beside her, Myo Jin-heo watched with his fan half-open, his eyes narrowed to slits. He was a scholar of the soul, searching for the crack in the mask.
Dong Bong-su reached the center of the platform and opened his mouth. His voice didn't roar, but it carried to every corner of the grounds with effortless clarity.
"We formally open the Hero Gate today. Before we begin the festivities, I would like to share a few words.'
The crowd went silent.
"You all know the history of Gangdo,' he began. "It was a land where law was a suggestion and violence was the only currency. The weak were robbed, and the strong grew fat on their misery. By night, the sound of blades was our lullaby; by morning, we stepped over corpses to buy bread. The authorities hid behind their gates, and martial artists cared only for their own pockets."
A heavy, somber mood settled over the crowd. Many nodded, their eyes reflecting the scars of those years.
"But this is not just a 'Gangdo problem," Bong-su continued, his gaze sharpening.
"This rot exists everywhere in the Central Plains. It simply feels more intimate because this is your home."
Myo Jin-heo's fan trembled slightly. He noticed it-the lack of "Righteous Fury." Bong-su wasn't shouting about justice like a naive protagonist.
He was stating a medical diagnosis of the world.
"The Hero Gate was founded to end that lawlessness. However..." He paused, his voice dropping into a more intimate tone.
"We have no intention of promoting grand, empty ideologies. Chivalry, in my eyes, is not something complex or grand."
Eom Bi-ryeong's brow twitched. Not grand?
"It is, quite simply, the act of interfering in others' affairs," Bong-su said with a faint, wry smile. "It is the inability to ignore injustice when it stands before you. That is all."
'A man of such terrifying power... speaking such simple words, Myo Jin-heo realized. It was the ultimate leisure.
"Therefore, we will walk the path of the Middle Way," Bong-su declared, stepping to the very edge of the stage. "We align with neither the Orthodox nor the Unorthodox. We will judge right and wrong for ourselves. There are those called 'Righteous' who are nothing more than hypocrites, and those called 'Evil' who still possess a shred of humanity. Names do not matter. Actions do."
A murmur of shock and awe rippled through the martial artists. To declare a "Middle Path' in a world currently being torn apart by the two great factions was an act of supreme arrogance-or supreme confidence.
"Our Hero Gate will walk the path it must. We will preserve what is good, protect chivalry, punish the wicked, and eradicate the demonic. No matter how great the power that opposes us..."
He raised his hand, and for a split second, a flash of that "Lightning" Myo Jin-heo had seen earlier seemed to spark in his eyes.
"We will wield this sword until the shadows are extinguished from the Central Plains."
Silence held the training grounds for a heartbeat. Then, it broke.
Applause erupted like a landslide. The children started it, their small hands clapping until they were red. Then the Governor joined. Then the Beggars. Soon, the entire grounds were shaking with the sound.
Myo Jin-heo's eyes fully opened. He felt it-the shift in the air.
'The path it must walk... 'he whispered.
It was a concept so basic it had been forgotten by the great sects centuries ago.
Beside him, Eom Bi-ryeong was clapping. She didn't even realize she was doing it. The prejudices she had brought with her from the Formation Tower were shattering with every strike of her palms.
'If it is this man...'she thought, looking at Bong-su's calm smile....he may be the only ally our Tower truly needs.
***
The Heavenly Formation Tower
Eight Trigram Hall.
The debate had raged for another hour, but the fire had gone out of it. Dong Mu-toe sat back, watching the seeds he had planted take root in the minds of his peers.
They had run out of arguments. They had run out of excuses. In the face of a variable as large as the "Hero Gate," there was only one logical conclusion.
Only one person had the authority to voice it.
Sss-.
The Grand Zenith set his teacup down. The sound, though soft, acted like a gavel. The room fell into an expectant hush.
"We must confirm it," Jin Mu-geuk said, his voice calm and resonant.
Dong Mu-toe's fingers stopped tapping.
Done.
"Confirm... how, Grand Zenith?" Baek Jang-gyeong asked, his voice uncharacteristically subdued.
Jin Mu-geuk looked across the table, his eyes piercing through the politics and the gold.
"We meet him. Either we summon him here, or we go to him."
At that exact moment, hundreds of miles away, Dong Bong-su stepped down from the stage, having successfully put his plan in motion.
-x-X-x-
Nirvana Mountain.
Deep within the jagged, southeastern reaches of the Central Plains, dawn arrived not with the clarity of golden sunlight, but with a suffocating, leaden grey mist that coiled around the mountain slopes like a damp burial shroud.
This was a place where the air itself felt heavy, as if saturated by the weight of centuries of prayer-and blood.
Following the treacherous, winding path upward, the sharp, black eaves of a massive architectural complex began to pierce through the ancient, gnarled pine trees.
At a distance, with its neat tiled roofs and weathered stone steps, it appeared to be a tranquil mountain monastery, a place of quiet contemplation and peace.
Upon reaching the wide, flagstone courtyard, one would see dozens of monks sitting in disciplined, concentric rows.
Shaven-headed and clad in robes the color of drying clay, they sat cross-legged with their spines as straight as spear-shafts. Their voices joined in a low, rhythmic chant of ancient scriptures, a resonant baritone hum that vibrated in the very bones of the mountain. To any passing traveler, it would look like the quintessential picture of Buddhist piety.
Until the wind blew.
Rattle. Click, clatter.
The wind chimes hanging from the eaves did not produce the pure, melodic ring of metal or the crystalline chime of glass. Instead, they gave off a dull, dry, organic sound-the unmistakable hollow thud of hard calcium colliding.
Every single wind chime was crafted from meticulously polished human bone.
In a shaded corner of the courtyard, where the morning light seemed to shrink away in fear, three monks knelt over their work.
Their movements were slow, careful, and profoundly reverent, possessing the quiet, meditative diligence of master craftsmen.
But a closer look revealed the horror of their "art": they were painstakingly carving, grinding, and refining human femurs and pelvic bones into ritual vessels and alms bowls. There was no flicker of madness or bloodlust in their eyes; there was only the terrifying, glassy serenity of those who believed their gruesome task was a holy devotion.
Even the incense that saturated the temple air carried a nauseating, visceral undertone. It wasn't the clean, woody scent of sandalwood or cedar, but a faint, cloying metallic sweetness that clung to the back of the throat-the unmistakable, lingering odor of human blood.
Here, in the heart of the Dark Net Rakshasa Path, this was not a sign of a crime; it was simply the scent of the morning.
As one of the Seven Evil Grand Cults, founded eight hundred years ago by a fallen, high-ranking monk known as the Rakshasa Demon Venerable, their entire existence was built upon a singular, lethal paradox:
To kill is liberation.
At the moment of the strike, the slain are freed and the slayer is redeemed.
Even the most ruthless factions of the Unorthodox Path kept a wary distance from this sect's particular brand of insanity.
They were the ones who drew intricate mandalas using fresh arterial spray and believed that the "Great Peace" could only be achieved through the edge of a blade. For them, every murder was a prayer, and every massacre was a ritual.
Inside Rakshasa Hall.
The interior of the main hall was a void of absolute, light-devouring darkness, intentionally designed without a single window to let in the "distractions of the world.
The only illumination came from flickering candles placed in ornate bone holders. These candles, rendered from processed human fat, burned with a heavy, rancid smoke that filled the cavernous space with a smell like a charnel house.
At the deepest, most shadowed point of the hall, where a golden, compassionate Buddha should have presided, sat something that mocked the very concept of mercy.
The Seated Statue of the Rakshasa Demon Venerable.
It was a colossal, grotesque figure fashioned from a fusion of human remains and blackened, cold-iron metal. It possessed no smile of enlightenment, no eyes of pity-only a hollow, skeletal face that gazed down into the dark with a terrifying, nihilistic hunger.
Red smoke rose in sluggish, oily coils from a massive incense burner placed before it, blurring the statue's silhouette until it looked like a living, breathing demon.
Directly below the feet of the statue, on a raised dharma seat, sat a man.
He was a shaven monk dressed in robes the color of old, oxidized blood-a deep, blackened crimson.
Though his frame was lean and wiry, like that of an ascetic practitioner, the internal power radiating from him felt like a stagnant, bottomless pool of icy water. His face was a map of deep, ancient wrinkles, yet the light burning in his eyes was strangely youthful and predatory.
He sat with half-closed eyes and a faint, serene smile that never reached his pupils. At a glance, he could have been mistaken for a legendary high-monk of the Shaolin or Wudang.
The illusion was shattered the moment he moved his left hand. He held a rosary of 108 beads, each one fashioned from the finger bones of those he had personally "liberated" over the decades.
Click.
The dry, snapping sound of bone hitting bone echoed through the hollow silence of the hall.
This was the 17th Cult Leader, the "Great Venerable" who had ruled over this mountain of corpses for half a century.
Before him stood a man of massive, iron-like proportions. His crown was shaved bare, but the sides were kept short and coarse like the fur of a beast. His reddish robe was cinched tight with a heavy leather belt, making it look more like a suit of combat armor than a monk's habit.
This was the Blood Rakshasa, the Left Dharma Protector. He was the "Sword" of the Dark Net, the one who commanded their military might and the terrifying Rakshasa combat divisions.
"Is there still no response from the Heavenly Formation Tower?" the Leader asked. His voice was soft and melodic, like a grandfather telling a bedtime story.
The Blood Rakshasa bowed so low his forehead nearly touched the cold stone floor. "Not yet, Great Venerable. Since we submitted our proposal regarding the massive advance payment, the internal debate within their Eight Trigram Hall has reached a complete deadlock."
Click. Another bone bead turned.
"There is no need for such unseemly haste," the Leader said, his tone devoid of any earthly impatience.
"Wealth is the thickest and most stubborn of all worldly delusions. Using gold as a needle to pry open the rusted gates of the Formation Tower takes time. Let the greed settle in their hearts. Eventually, they will convince themselves that our coins are as righteous as any other."
"Understood." The Blood Rakshasa shifted his stance, his muscles rippling under his robes. "I have a report regarding the current theater of war."
Click.
"The operation to eliminate the Sword Branch Corps is complete."
The Blood Rakshasa spoke with the dry, clinical tone of a clerk reporting on grain inventory, rather than a general announcing the systematic slaughter of five hundred lives.
"The Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect's Sword Branch Corps-approximately five hundred elite members were dispersed in small units across dozens of strategic locations to inspect defensive readiness. We deployed five of our Lower Eight Rakshasas to strike them all simultaneously."
"At this hour, the Sword Branch Corps has been completely annihilated. Three major regional branches of the Vast Heaven Sect have been crippled beyond repair. However, we failed to secure the corpse of the Sword Branch Corps Leader."
"His fate?"
"He escaped into the deep ravines under the cover of the night. However, given the lethal severity of his wounds, he has likely already attained enlightenment-or will do so before the sun sets."
Enlightenment.
In the twisted tongue of the Dark Net, it was the only word they used for death.
A faint wrinkle deepened above the Leader's half-closed eyes.
"Five hundred beings have safely crossed the river of life and death."
"Namu Amitabha."
Click.
"The Great Dharma Assembly has finally arrived," the Leader whispered, his voice vibrating with a dark sort of joy.
The destruction of a major elite unit belonging to one of the Ten Great Sects was a catastrophic blow. The collapse of the Sword Branch Corps meant the Vast Heaven Sect's peripheral defensive grid was now full of holes.
This was no longer a border skirmish; the Dark Net had just ripped the throat out of the Orthodox Path's regional security.
"Continue."
"There is one more matter," the Blood Rakshasa's voice grew noticeably heavier, his eyes narrowing. "The Sword Patrol Corps."
"Ah... the deluded beings led by the benefactor Sang Gwan-hwi?"
"Yes. They were moving with haste toward the city of Gangdo. Our Blood Fragrance Society was tracking their unique scent markers across the northern plains."
"And what is the issue? Did they reach their destination?"
"It would be more accurate for you to hear the details directly from Hyang-rang."
The bone rosary went still.
"Enter."
The heavy, iron-reinforced doors groaned open, and a cold draft slipped in, carrying a sliver of grey light.
Hyang-rang, the leader of the Blood Fragrance Society and one of the Lower Eight Rakshasas, appeared like a ghost. He was a 'wolf-man, a martial artist who had refined his senses to a beast-like level through the consumption of wolf blood.
He prostrated himself before the dharma seat, his yellow, reptilian eyes glowing in the gloom.
"Report," the Blood Rakshasa commanded.
"They were detected, Hyang-rang rasped, his voice a low, guttural growl that sounded like stones grinding together.
"Our blood-scent markers were triggered three days ago. But then... the trail was severed with a surgical, impossible cleaness."
"Where was the last trace?"
"Two hundred miles north of Gangdo. Beyond that point, not a single one of our hidden detection points responded. It was as if they walked into another dimension."
"They vanished?"
"Yes. But it is more than just a disappearance." Hyang-rang raised his head, his pupils dilating with a mix of confusion and fear.
"I tracked them personally to the very coordinate where the scent died. There were no traces of a struggle. No signs of a retreat. No footprints in the soft earth. And most importantly... I smelled nothing. No blood. No human sweat. No lingering scent of fear. Nothing."
The Blood Rakshasa's jaw tightened. Hyang-rang's nose was legendary; he could pick up a single drop of blood in a thunderstorm. For him to smell "nothing" at the site where thirty-one elite martial artists vanished was a physical impossibility.
"However," Hyang-rang continued, "a nearby Orthodox village was found completely razed to the ground. Burned to white ash. All the villagers were consumed by the flames."
"We found the horses of the Sword Patrol Corps nearby... but of Sang Gwan-hwi and his thirty elite men? Not a single hair. No bodies. No trace."
A heavy, suffocating silence reclaimed the hall, broken only by the crackling of the human-fat candles. Click.
"The Sword Patrol Corps... has vanished," the Leader mused. He opened his eyes slightly, revealing pupils that seemed to swallow the candlelight.
"Namu Amitabha. This is indeed good news."
The Blood Rakshasa blinked in surprise. "...Good news, Great Venerable?"
"Whoever granted them enlightenment, thirty-one beings have crossed the river of life and death. What is that if not a supreme blessing?"
"Someone has done our holy work for us."
A quiet, thin laugh filled the hall-a sound that carried no humor, only an absolute, terrifying conviction.
"But," the laughter stopped as abruptly as a snapped neck.
"There are no bodies. That means someone killed them... and then had the audacity to steal the corpses."
The Blood Rakshasa straightened his massive back, his aura flaring with a dark, red light. "Someone is stealing the 'merit' of enlightenment from our cult."
The rosary went perfectly still. "Hyang-rang."
"I am here, Great Venerable!"
"Find them. Read the trail again, not with your nose, but with your soul. From the point where the scent was cut, trace the flow of the wind and the earth. Traces cannot simply evaporate into the heavens. Someone in Gangdo is hiding our 'saved' ones, and I wish to know who possesses such a talent for concealment."
"By your command!" Hyang-rang vanished into the shadows as quickly as he had appeared.
Only the two masters of the Demonic Path remained in the rancid darkness.
"Blood Rakshasa."
"Yes, Great Venerable."
"With the Sword Branch Corps annihilated, the Vast Heaven Sect's provincial branches are now naked and exposed. They are like lost, blind beings wandering in a storm."
Click.
"I understand your intent," the Blood Rakshasa replied, his hand moving to the hilt of his heavy cleaver.
"Do not merely take up the blade in anger, the Leader's voice dropped to a chilling, melodic whisper that seemed to echo from the walls themselves.
"Think of yourself as a lighthouse. Light the lamp. Guide these lost, suffering souls to their final, glorious enlightenment."
"Yes."
"Three branches in the east, two in the south. I will personally deploy three of the Lower Eight Rakshasas and assign one of the Four Rakshasas to command the eastern front. We will ensure they do not wander in the dark for much longer."
"Permitted."
The Great Venerable gave the spiritual direction, but the war-the bloody, systematic, and soul-crushing slaughter-belonged to the Blood Rakshasa.
The monk clasped his bone-rosary hands in a mocking gesture of prayer.
"Namu Amitabha."
It was time to practice the path of the Buddha with the blade as the lamp. Until the entire Central Plains bowed to the Rakshasa and the river of blood ran deep enough to drown all delusions, their "merciful" blades would never rest.
It was time to practice the path of the Buddha with the blade as the lamp. Until the entire Central Plains bowed to the Rakshasa and the river of blood ran deep enough to drown all delusions, their "merciful" blades would never rest.
-x-X-x-
The expansive training grounds of the Hero Gate, which only hours ago had been a chaotic sea of bustling movement, fervent applause, and the heavy, cloying scent of celebratory wine, were now reclaimed by a profound and suffocating silver silence.
Dong Bong-su stood as a solitary monolith at the exact center of the vacant expanse. His silhouette was cast long and razor-sharp against the packed, cold earth by a moon that hung high in the midnight sky like a frozen eye.
He stood perfectly still, his head tilted back at a precise angle as he studied the celestial body, his pupils reflecting the pale lunar light like twin mirrors of polished obsidian.
To any hidden observer, he might have looked like a young sect leader savoring the quiet, poetic triumph of his success; in reality, he was an calculating.
"A typical sect founding ceremony is supposed to last three or four days, with grand feasts that turn night into day and wine that flows like the Yangtze... why on earth did you insist on wrapping ours up in a single afternoon?"
The voice was familiar.
Bong-su lowered his head, his gaze shifting toward the source.
Jeon Ra-hwa was approaching from the deep, velvet shadows of the main hall, one hand rhythmically patting her shoulder to work out the stubborn knots of a long day's administrative labor.
She looked tired, her robes slightly disheveled from the day's tasks, but her eyes held a brightness-a sense of belonging-that hadn't been there months ago.
"One day is sufficient," Bong-su replied. His voice was a calm carrying neither the warmth of pride nor the weight of fatigue.
"I suppose so," Ra-hwa conceded, a small, weary smirk playing on her lips as she stepped fully into the glare of the moonlight.
"It's not as if the Hero Gate is some ancient, gargantuan pillar of the Central Plains."
"We didn't exactly have thousands of distant delegates to house and feed. Still, ending it so abruptly... it's almost like you're in a hurry to get to the next war."
"Did you post the recruitment notices properly?" Bong-su asked, ignoring the observation.
"Ah, yes, of course."
"Give me some credit, Sect Master."
"Considering that Gangdo is basically under the Hero Gate's total control now, and the people gathered today were quite impressive, gathering about twenty disciples won't be difficult at all."
"What about the number of applicants?"
Ra-hwa's eyes widened, a mischievous, triumphant glint dancing in them. She stopped a few paces in front of him and stretched out one hand, splaying her fingers wide. "Don't be surprised."
"I won't be surprised by something like that. How many?"
"This many!" she chirped, shaking her hand for emphasis.
"Fifty?"
"Hey, how can the Gate Master be so timid? Is your vision failing?" she teased, her grin widening into a proud beam.
"It's five hundred. Five hundred!"
"Five hundred people clawing at the gates before the sun had even touched the horizon!"
Five hundred.
Bong-su's mind instantly processed the ratio. 25 to 1. With that level of competition, the quality of the founding generation of disciples would be significantly higher than his initial projections.
This was a variable that could be weaponized; a sect built on such elite foundations would reach "Combat Readiness" 20% faster than average.
"Of course, I already filtered out about half based on documents and background checks, so we only need to conduct face-to-face interviews for the remaining two hundred and fifteen. I've already organized them into tiers."
"Already filtered half? Nice. Good work."
"Tch. You only ever say that when I've saved you from doing paperwork," she grumbled, though she couldn't quite hide the small skip in her step or the way her expression softened.
As Bong-su raised his hand to pat her head-a gesture of reflexive paternalism used to maintain the "Kim Rae-won" persona-Jeon Ra-hwa moved with the practiced grace of a startled cat, dodging his palm.
"Ah, I told you not to do this! Am I a kid or something? Huh!?"
But against Bong-su's persistent, calculated reach, her evasion was futile. His hand landed gently on her crown, ruffling her hair with a slow, rhythmic motion that seemed to ignore her protests entirely.
"Haah... it's all messy again. I just fixed it," she muttered, her voice dropping into a soft, defeated grumble, though she didn't actually pull away this time.
As she grumbled while fixing her disheveled hair, Dong Bong-su gave a faint, nearly imperceptible smile -the kind of warm "Sect Leader" expression that simply ceased to exist the moment there was no reason to maintain it.
"You did well today."
He turned around and began walking toward his room. From behind him, Jeon Ra-hwa's now much brighter and more energized voice followed him like a trailing shadow.
"We're doing face-to-face interviews for all of them tomorrow, so you need to wake up early. Got it?"
Dong Bong-su waved his hand behind him in silent acknowledgment and continued walking toward the guest wing.
The sect founding speech. Receiving the VIP guests. Dining with Yao Han-myeong.
A brief, coded intelligence briefing with the Beggar's Sect. Checking on the welfare of the children before bed.
He had flawlessly completed the kind of grueling schedule a sect leader would carry out over an entire day during a founding ceremony. Much of it had been handled by Jeon Ra-hwa, which made the execution of the day far easier.
'I thought she was growing remarkably, but-'
He hadn't expected her to grow this capable. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call her a genius.
Not only in her burgeoning martial arts talent, but even in her administrative ability, she was an outstanding talent.
She hadn't experienced much real combat yet, but her aura was already beginning to settle into that of a skilled expert.
'It's time to truly deploy her into real combat.'
Creak, click.
The heavy wooden door closed.
Leaning his back against it, Dong Bong-su rubbed his face with both hands. The warmth woven over his expression peeled away strand by strand, like old paint flaking off a wall. It wasn't so much being torn off as it was evaporating on its own. It was a kind of expression that simply ceased to exist once there was no reason to maintain it.
After a few seconds, only a man with no expression-no soul, no warmth-remained in the room.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Dong Bong-su began to review today's accumulated data.
The Speech: Quite appropriate for something improvised. The reaction was within the expected range of admiration and mild fear.
Eom Bi-ryeong: The applause had been quite late. But also the longest.
She is an emotional type; once swayed, she will fall deeply into loyalty. Conversely, that meant she would probe his character thoroughly before being swayed. At the moment, she was likely still in the latter stage of intense observation.
Myo Jin-heo: He had folded his fan. When it was open, he was an observer. When it was closed, he was a judge. The fact that it remained closed meant he had reached something close to a final conclusion about the Hero Gate.
The more rational a person is, the harder it is for them to overturn their own judgment, whether good or bad.
The children, Yao Han-myeong, the Beggar's Sect-all had moved according to their expected routes.
No abnormalities detected.
The review ended briefly, his mind clearing the day's cache.
Dong Bong-su slowly closed and opened his eyes once. The young sect leader who had spoken of chivalry and declared the middle path in the training ground earlier today was no longer there.
The man who had vowed in a confident voice before thousands of gazes to preserve what is good vanished the moment the door closed.
What remained was an emotionless calculator processing data. When observed, he became "Kim Rae-won," and when unobserved, he became "Dong Bong-su." A man almost like a quantum entity.
Of course, even that form could be changed at any time if needed. For now, this state of absolute neutrality simply offered greater advantages.
Dong Bong-su climbed onto the bed and sat cross-legged. There was something he hadn't checked in quite a while.
Events had chained into more events, leaving no room to check the internal ledger. Or rather, it wasn't that there was no time-it simply wasn't urgent.
The system ran on its own. Rewards accumulated, stats increased, quests progressed. There was no need to check it every time.
'Now that the sect founding ceremony is over!'
It was time to take a look at the ledger and his performance so far.
Click.
A translucent window opened before his eyes, shimmering with a faint, blue light.
[What is Hero]
Name: Kim Rae-won
Title: [None]
Class: Fallen Hero
Hero Stats
◆Hero History: 48
Current Rank:★ (Rising Star)
◆ Fame: 32
◆ Infamy: 0
Dong Bong-su's gaze stopped at the Hero History value.
48.
When he first opened this window at the inn, it had been 5. Back then, he was Nameless (☆). Now, he was a Rising Star (★). And the remaining amount needed to reach the next tier-First-Rate (★★)-was only 2 points away.
2.
Almost there. When the environment changes rapidly, the speed of evolution must also increase to survive. In the martial world, no matter how strong you become, it is never enough.
The signal of imminent growth was always a good thing.
The corners of his lips lifted slightly.
[ Attributes
| HP | 350/350
| MP | 280/280
| Stamina | 320/320
STR: 10 [+5] |
AGI: 12 [+5] |
INT: 17 [+5]
WIS: 13 [+5] |
CHA: 8 [+5] |
LUK: 6 [+5]
* Remaining points: 30 ]
Dong Bong-su's finger bent once in the air, ghosting over the number.
30.
The results of everything he had done in Gangdo had accumulated there. Subjugating the Iron God Society, annihilating the Seven Star Immortal Assembly, dismantling the Bandit Alliance, defeating Trigram Leader of the Heavenly Formation Tower, wiping out the Sword Patrol Corps, and numerous other hidden quests handled over the past months. The system must have assigned rewards for each of them, silently accumulating into this number.
Should he allocate them?
A fleeting thought. 'No.'
His previous judgment still held. If it wouldn't bring meaningful, qualitative change to his physical laws, it was better to leave them untouched.
30 was clearly different from when it had been 5.
When the time comes to spend it all at once, I'll use it then.'
Next, he swiped to the Relationship Status.
[ Relationship Status
Jeon Ra-hwa Trust: High | Status: [Trust], [Worry]
Dong Mu-toe Trust: Oath (Subordinate) | Status: [Curiosity], [Obedience]
Eom Bi-ryeong Trust: Slight Favor | Status: [Vigilance], [Interest]
Myo Jin-heo Trust: Slight Favor | Status: [Observation], [Light]
Yao Han-myeong Trust: Favor | Status: [Caution], [Expectation]
Beggar's Sect Trust: High | Status: [Respect], [Loyalty]
Ho-ae Trust: Very High | Status: [Reliance], [Admiration] ]
It had once only contained Jeon Ra-hwa. Now, the number of kinsfolk had increased quite a bit. Seven.
One subordinate, two high, one favor, two slight favor, and one very high.
His gaze moved to Eom Bi-ryeong and Myo Jin-heo. [Vigilance], [Interest]. [Observation], [Light].
There's still room to change that.
There would be many opportunities, since they had decided to stay at the Hero Gate as "Guests."
His gaze lingered slightly longer on Dong Mu-toe's [Curiosity], [Obedience]. The peculiar pulling sensation unique to the Oath still pointed north.
Even without opening the map, he knew the man was currently stationed at the Heavenly Formation Tower.
The value of the Hero Gate is rising.
He briefly closed the system window. Numbers only showed state. They did not show the "texture" of reality.
Dong Bong-su's Super True Energy Field naturally expanded. Because he possessed a Holeless Body, he had no traditional meridians.
Instead of confining internal energy to meridian pathways, he operated it throughout his entire body. The surrounding energy flowed into him as if being drawn into a vacuum.
The energy of the entire Hero Gate was clearly perceived, as if placed on his palm.
***
In the training ground.
A faint true energy fluctuation.
Someone was training at this hour.
'Eom Bi-ryeong.'
The formation of the Earth Formation Department's Trigram Lord left faint lines in the air. The pattern caught in his Super True Energy Field wasn't offensive.
It was a warning formation. Even during training, she maintained a detection network. It was the habit of someone tempered on a hundred battlefields.
'Emotionally volatile, yet thoroughly cautious.'
He added a line to his earlier assessment.
In the guest quarters: The energy was quiet. Either asleep, or pretending to be. No signs of Circulating Energy and Performing the Technique. No disturbance in true energy.
The stillness resembled sleep more than cultivation-but someone like Myo Jin-heo could conceal even that difference.
'He's thinking about everything right now. About the Hero Gate. And about Kim Rae-won.'
Near the children's quarters: The energy was stable.
Jeon Ra-hwa had already fallen asleep. The children's breathing was steady. Ho-ae, and all the others.
Click.
He opened the system window again.
[ Skill List
| Owned Skills |
• Faith Arrow Lv.1
• Hero's Aura Lv.1
• Faith Shield Lv.2
• Faith Sight
| Unlockable Skills|
• Faith Judgment Lv.1 - Required History: 50 (48/50)
• Hero's Blessing Lv.1 - Required History: 50 (48/50) ]
Two new names appeared at the 50 mark.
Faith Judgment.
Hero's Blessing.
Their effects were unknown. It had always been like this.
Even Hero's Aura had only been fully understood after unlocking it. Kim Rae-won's memory was still flawed. Like ink diffused in water-its outline remained, but the strokes were blurred.
It was more like recollection than memory, impossible to retrieve without misreading.
Still, 48. Only 2 remained.
Once Hero History exceeded 50, his rank would rise to ★★ First-Rate.
[ Hero Rank
☆Nameless (0-9)
★Rising Star (10-49) - current
★★ First-Rate (50-99)
★★★Hero (100-499)
★★★★ Legend (500-999)
★★★★★ Myth (1000+) ]
His gaze briefly stopped at ★★★ Hero.
Jeon Ra-hwa's rescue quest reward was +100 History. If completed, it would immediately raise him to Hero rank. But it was still at 18%.
Too valuable to leave unused...
Click.
He moved to the quest window.
[ Ongoing Quest
[Main] Jeon Ra-hwa's Rescue Progress: 18.18%
Reward: History +100, Max Trust ]
The Seven Star Immortal Assembly-presumed to be the third karmic tie-had been dealt with. But several karmic ties remained.
'Jeon Ra-hwa...'
He had thought about it for a long time.
When should he resolve this? But in the end, he concluded that leaving it untouched for now was best.
There were too many urgent matters to handle.
He closed the quest window and glanced at the inventory.
About thirty corpses of the Sword Patrol Corps, including Squad Leader Sang Gwan-hwi.
A very useful card. In terms of information and justification, it could become a powerful move.
[ The Evil-Warding Sword (3% increased effect against Evil-type opponents).
Five Spiritual Root Stones (Unopened). ]
Click.
He closed the inventory.
With all system windows gone, the room grew dark.
Without closing his eyes, Dong Bong-su looked out the window.
Night. Moonlight spread evenly across the Hero Gate.
The training ground, bustling earlier, was empty. Faint lights leaked from beneath the eaves of guest halls.
Maintaining his Super True Energy Field, he extended his perception outward.
Or tried to.
'...!?'
A foreign presence.
Ten of them.
And one... was powerful. So powerful that merely recognizing it caused his Super True Energy Field to tremble like a struck bell.
Boom-
[ [Sub-Quest] Encounter with the Heavenly Yin Sect [Type: Sudden]
On the path to saving the world, grudges always follow like a shadow. Piled-up grudges fall like sudden summer rain without warning. But a hero must make even that part of their path. Whether to cut it down with the sword or resolve it with words-the choice is entirely yours.
Goal: Resolve the issue with the Heavenly Yin Sect (Progress: 0%)
Reward: Hero History +3, Connection with the Heavenly Yin Sect. ]
As always, the System was punctual.
For most martial artists, there exists a biological lag between the recognition of a threat and the psychological decision to act-a gap filled with the frantic thrumming of a racing heart, the tightening of a grip on a hilt, or the cold sweat of adrenaline.
But Dong Bong-su experienced none of these. He simply read the floating text with the clinical detachment of a grandmaster reviewing a move on a Go board.
'Cut it with the sword, or resolve it with words.'
Judging by the System's phrasing, both peace and total conflict were viable paths.
The true intrigue, however, lay in the reward: Connection established.
This was the third such tie.
Alliance Under Heaven Formation.
Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect.
Heavenly Yin Sect.
The nuance of the word "Connection" was a pattern Bong-su had begun to categorize.
From what he had observed, a connection didn't immediately trigger a follow-up quest, but it acted as a spiritual entanglement. It was as if he were weaving a web; he didn't necessarily control the other spiders, but he could now feel every vibration they made across the Central Plains.
'Information recorded, 'he thought, storing the data in a mental sub-folder.
He closed the quest window and shifted his focus to the Super True Energy Field.
Ten presences.
They were approaching from the southwest, currently outside the sect's main compound.
Judging by their rhythmic, measured pace, they weren't using high-level Lightness Skills to sprint; they were walking with a terrifying, predatory confidence.
Their energy was perfectly concealed, their breathing suppressed to a ghost-like thrum, and their footsteps erased from the physical world. It was stealth refined to a level that would make even the most elite assassins of the Dark Net weep with envy. Without a transcendent sense like the Super True Energy Field, they would have been invisible until their blades were already at his throat.
Nine of the signals had similar energy signatures.
'Around the level of the weaker members of the Sword Patrol Corps, Bong-su calculated.
Even combined, they were a manageable variable-disposable pawns in the grander scheme.
'There's just one problem.
The tenth presence.
Even now, the very boundary of the Super True Energy Field was trembling.
This wasn't the artificial spatial distortion caused by MyoJin-heo's complex formations; this was caused by sheer, unadulterated power.
The energy emanating from this person was heavy-as slow and unstoppable as a shifting glacier. By simple comparison, this person was at least a full realm above Sang Gwan-hwi.
'Interesting.
He opened the mini-map.
Ten yellow dots moved toward the Hero Gate in an evenly spaced, tactical formation.
The pieces clicked into place instantly.
Heavenly Yin Sect. The Jade Token. Jeon Ra-hwa.
The jade token hanging around Ra-hwa's neck was a tracking device-an item engraved with the unique Yin-energy signature of their sect.
They hadn't come for the Hero Gate; they had followed the scent of their own power back to its source.
Bong-su's perception swept through the compound behind him.
Jeon Ra-hwa was sleeping, her breathing deep and rhythmic. The children were safe in their dormitories.
Eom Bi-ryeong was still training, her warning formation threads humming faintly in the moonlight.
Myo Jin-heo remained a still, unreadable void in the guest quarters.
The conclusion was binary: Resolve this before the situation spread.
He had deal with them outside, in the silence of the outskirts, before they could disturb the "Value" he had worked so hard to build today.
Dong Bong-su rose from the bed and stood before the door. Just before his hand touched the handle, he paused for a single beat.
He put on the face of Kim Rae-won.
The corners of his lips lifted into a gentle, confident curve. His eyes softened, radiating a youthful yet profound warmth. His shoulders relaxed, his posture shifting to that of a charismatic leader who carried the weight of justice with ease. It was like a master actor donning a suit of armor; thread by thread, he wove the persona back together.
One second later, the emotionless person vanished. In his place stood the young Hero of Gangdo.
He opened the door and stepped out.
The compound lay silent under the moonlight.
He launched himself with Lightness Skill, riding the surge of the Super True Energy Field.
His steps skimmed the ground though not a single speck of dust left behind.
He made a wide detour around Eom Bi-ryeong's warning formation. Its threads stretched far beyond the training grounds, but he had already read the pattern. Passing through without touching it was effortless. He slipped between the threads like a blade through gaps.
Outside the Hero Gate-
The night deepened.
Empty streets. Darkened markets. Silence pressing over the city.
Dong Bong-su moved toward the southwestern outskirts-the direction of the approaching Heavenly Yin Sect.
An ancient tree stood there, centuries old. Its branches spread wide in all directions. He leaned against it.
And expanded the Super True Energy Field-thick, vast.
The ten approaching presences sharpened.
Nine heartbeats, steady.
One was different.
Deep. Slow. Heavy.
Cold.
Like an abyss.
New prey was always interesting.
Now, all that remained was to wait.
Like a lion in the grass.
***
The night in Gangdo was quiet-so quiet that the city's old reputation as a "Lawless Zone" felt like a fever dream from a distant past.
IceNight, the unit leader of the Heavenly Yin Sect, entered the city gates with ten followers.
It had been quite some time since they had emerged from the damp, freezing Abyss of the Demon Abyss. The air of the Central Plains felt lukewarm and thin compared to the suffocating chill of their home.
'Close.'
The jade token's resonance was clear.
To a practitioner of the Heavenly Yin Sect, the token was more than an ornament; it was a treasure that vibrated in harmony with their internal energy. The closer it was, the more the air around them turned to frost.
But there was a discrepancy. The resonance pattern was... wrong.
It was still Heavenly Yin internal energy, but it wasn't being wielded by a Dharma Maiden. The essence was identical, but the "vessel" holding it felt forced, like pure water poured into a cracked and foreign container.
'As expected. Cheol So-a is either incapacitated... or dead.'
Ice Night's eyes, pale as winter slush, narrowed. She remembered the Sect Leader's command-the way the very space in the Abyss had twisted when that order was given.
"Find out who dared touch our Dharma Maiden without permission. Move personally."
When the 'Great Venerable" told you to move personally, failure was synonymous with a death sentence.
"Sisters," Ice Night whispered. Her voice didn't carry; it simply existed in the air.
Nine shadows coalesced around her instantly.
"The jade token's resonance is ahead."
"It's Stationary. Inside a building to the north," Ice Night reported.
"Unit leader, do we storm the gates immediately?" the youngest of the group asked. Her eyes were wide with a hunger for combat, her voice still untempered by the long silence of the Abyss.
"We do not rush," Ice Night replied, her gaze fixing on the silhouette of the Hero Gate.
"There is something we need to check first.'
She couldn't articulate the feeling yet, but her senses-sharpened by decades of cultivation in total darkness-were scratching at a mystery.
As she walked through Gangdo, she noticed the change. The streets were orderly. The gambling houses were shut. The vagrants were gone.
Someone had rewritten the fundamental code of this city.
'Hero Gate...'
According to their intelligence, the Iron God Society-the very group Cheol So-a had infiltrated-had been wiped out. In its place, this new sect had risen like a sudden monolith. The jade token pointed directly to its heart.
Suddenly, Ice Night stopped.
... What is this?'
An indescribable sensation washed over her. It wasn't Qi. It wasn't a formation. There were no visible lines, no audible threads, no detectable barrier. And yet, the entire space felt subtly... occupied. Like a thin layer of oil floating over a deep pool of water, someone was controlling the very atmosphere.
She heightened her senses to their absolute limit, but she couldn't categorize it. It wasn't Yin, nor Yang, nor Spiritual, nor Sinister. It was pure, raw control of the environment, stripped of all elemental attributes.
Ice Night frowned. Was this a technique she didn't know? Or was it something simply beyond her current realm?
Either way, the predatory instinct that had kept her alive in the Abyss screamed at her to halt.
"Everyone, stop," she commanded.
The nine shadows froze mid-step.
"There is someone's personal domain ahead. I will go first. Wait for my signal."
"Unit leader!"
"It is an order." Her tone dropped an octave, turning into a blade of ice.
The youngest fell silent.
Ice Night stepped forward alone. The moment she crossed an invisible line, the air changed. It wasn't a change in temperature, but density. It felt as if she had stepped from the air into the pressurized depths of a lake.
'My every movement is being read'
Recognizing that stealth was now a futile endeavor, she abandoned her concealment and walked forward openly, her boots crunching on the frost-covered road.
At the end of the moonlit path, beneath the sprawling branches of a massive ancient tree, a man leaned casually against the trunk.
He was young, barely in his prime, dressed in simple black robes. And he was yawning.
Ice Night stopped twenty paces away.
'He is the center of this world.'
She was certain of it. And yet, when she tried to measure his power, she found nothing.
No Qi, no internal energy fluctuations, no signs of a high-level practitioner. To her perception, he looked like an ordinary scholar who had lost his way.
And yet, the energy in the surrounding space was distributed with such mathematical perfection that it defied the laws of nature.
"Where is the Seventh Dharma Maiden... Cheol So-a?" she asked, her voice echoing in the stillness.
Without even stopping his yawn, the man raised his middle finger and pointed lazily at the ground beneath his feet.
"Here," he said.
Then, he flipped his finger toward the silver moon above.
"Or maybe there?" He offered a playful, chilling grin. "Could be both."
"The body is in the dirt, the soul is in the sky. Who can say for sure?"
The world froze white.
It wasn't a metaphor. A wave of absolute zero erupted from Ice Night, turning the damp soil to stone and the bark of the ancient tree into cracked, white porcelain.
The very breath leaving Bong-su's lips turned into a thick, crystalline vapor.
Frost began to crawl along the boundary of the Super True Energy Field, trying to find a crack in his defense.
This was a different level of power. If the Sword Patrol Corps was a wave, this was a tsunami of Yin-energy. Bong-su didn't panic; he simply adjusted the density of his field by one level.
The frost retreated, then surged back with renewed ferocity. The entire field groaned under the strain.
'Impressive, Bong-su noted.
The moonlight seemed to bend and warp, gathering around Ice Night as if she were a celestial vacuum.
The Heavenly Yin Sect refined the energy of the moon itself; at this moment, the entire lunar output of Gangdo was being funneled into a single woman.
She stepped forward. With every footfall, ice bloomed beneath her boots like lethal, frozen flowers.
"...Your name," she said. Her voice was no longer melodic; it was the sound of a glacier grinding against a mountain.
For a practitioner of her sect to ask a name was the final courtesy before a total "liberation."
Dong Bong-su's teeth gleamed white in the moonlight.
He pushed off from the tree, standing straight as the Super True Energy Field hummed as he smiled.
"Kim Rae-won," he replied,
"I'm the Sect Leader of the Hero Gate."
-x-X-x-
The world did not merely grow cold; it underwent a fundamental molecular shift.
The moment Ice Night's fourth step pressed into the dark soil of Gangdo, the silver moonlight seemed to shatter.
The frost beneath her boots did not creep; it surged in a perfect, expanding circle, a tidal wave of absolute zero that sought to claim not just Dong Bong-su, but the very concept of space itself.
This was not the structured elegance of a formation.
When Bong-su had faced the Thunder Absolute Sealing Circle, he had seen the threads-the logical geometry of the Heavenly Formation Tower.
Even the Fire Formation Department's suppression fields had fixed anchors that could be calculated and dismantled.
This was raw, primordial output. It was a blunt-force trauma of internal energy, a relentless expansion of Yin-cold Qi that ignored finesse in favor of total atmospheric dominance.
'Are you aiming for a war of attrition? Bong-su mused, his internal processor whirring with the cold click of a high-end machine.
With a subtle mental flick, he increased the density of the Super True Energy Field.
The encroaching frost was instantly rebuffed, grinding to a halt at the invisible boundary of his domain. However, the void he created was immediately filled by a fresh surge of white death.
It was a stalemate of physics.
Like two immiscible fluids-oil and water-the two energies pressed against one another with mounting pressure.
Inside the Super True Energy Field, the ground remained dusty and dry, a sanctuary of neutral warmth.
Outside, the world was being rendered in white porcelain.
The ancient tree Bong-su had leaned against was now a tragic sculpture; frost crawled up its bark, was pushed back by his field, and then surged again in an endless, rhythmic cycle of freezing and thawing.
Crunch-.
Ice Night took a fifth step.
The pressure doubled. The air itself began to feel heavy, as if the oxygen were being replaced by liquid nitrogen.
A crushing weight of cold settled over the entire radius of the Super True Energy Field, testing the structural integrity of Bong-su's internal energy reserves.
Yet, Bong-su did not flinch. He did not move a single millimeter.
He was a fisherman measuring the depth of a frozen lake. He watched the moonlight converge around Ice Night, flowing into her like a celestial siphon.
In the Heavenly Yin Sect, Yin energy was not just cultivated; it was sublimated. Under the peak of a midnight moon, this woman was receiving a massive environmental buff. If it were noon, her output would be halved. But now, she was at the zenith of her power.
Shrrrng-.
In a blur of motion that defied the eye, a pitch-black longsword manifested in Bong-su's right hand.
The Demon-Expelling Annihilation Wheel Sword.
He did not assume a stance. He simply held the blade, a dark vertical line against the white world.
The density of the cold continued to skyrocket. Every breath Bong-su drew caused ice crystals to form within the moist lining of his lungs-a sensation that would have paralyzed a lesser master with agonizing spasms.
To Bong-su, she was merely another prey.
Ice Night's defense had reached its architectural peak. A wall of frost so intense it forbade the very concept of approach now consumed an area of thirty zhang.
She stared at him through the haze of her own frozen breath, her eyes searching for a crack, a shiver, a sign of mortal weakness. She found nothing.
Bong-su's gaze remained as empty and unreadable as the void between stars.
Hooo-
As Ice Night's icy exhale embroidered the night sky with crystalline patterns, Bong-su made his move.
Or rather, he made a move that defied all martial logic.
He returned the Demon-Expelling Annihilation Wheel Sword to his inventory.
Ice Night's pupils contracted to pinpricks. In the middle of a life-and-death struggle, her opponent had disarmed himself. The appearance and disappearance of the weapon were baffling enough, but the tactical decision was incomprehensible.
Why?
That single, flickering question was all the opening Bong-su needed. In the realm of high-level combat, a question is a hesitation, and a hesitation is a death sentence.
Crack-crack-crack-!
In that infinitesimal window, Bong-su did the unthinkable: he withdrew the Super True Energy Field entirely.
For a heartbeat, he was naked against the absolute zero of the environment. But he wasn't retreating. He was concentrating.
He pulled the vast, spread-out energy of the field and compressed it into a single, microscopic point of infinite density-localized directly in front of Ice Night, at the very heart of her frozen sanctuary.
Localized Maximization.
Wooooong—.
The air didn't just vibrate; it groaned under the stress of the spatial distortion.
As the Super True Energy Field converged, the Yin-cold energy was not just pushed back; it was forcibly displaced.
Because there was no longer a broad boundary to refill, the sudden vacuum created a catastrophic collapse in Ice Night's control. Her "waterfall" of cold energy was suddenly flowing into a drain she couldn't plug.
"Keuk-!"
Ice Night's leaden foot was forced backward. It was only half a step, but in her world, a single retreat was a total defeat of intent.
Bong-su did not waste the moment. He didn't need a sword.
Click-
Faith Arrow.
This was not Qi. It was not Yin, Yang, Immortal, or Evil energy.
It was a substance that did not belong to the martial laws of the Central Plains. It was pure, distilled Faith, shaped into a projectile of blinding, prismatic light.
Fwoosh-.
The arrow did not struggle against the frost; it ignored it. It pierced through the loosened defense barrier and buried itself deep into Ice Night's shoulder..
Her heavy robes tore like wet paper. Thick, dark blood welled up, only to be instantly sealed by a flash of frost-the emergency hemostasis technique of the Heavenly Yin Sect.
But as Ice Night looked at the trajectory of the attack, her soul went cold. The place where the arrow had passed was no longer frozen.
The frost hadn't melted from heat; it had vanished.
More like purified, as if a holy light had wiped a dirty slate clean.
"...Why?" she rasped, her voice trembling.
It wasn't just the strange energy. It was the realization of the gap between them.
She had trained for decades in the lightless Abyss, surviving horrors that would break a normal mind.
She knew the "scent" of a killing blow.
The man before her could have aimed for her throat. He could have pierced her heart. He had chosen her shoulder.
Bong-su allowed the corner of his lip to lift. This wasn't the warm, practiced smile of Kim Rae-won.
It was the cold, sharp curve of the predator, Dong Bong-su. Though to the world, the difference was invisible, the intent was clear.
'I've shown enough, he thought. 'No ties bloom from a corpse.'
He had established dominance. Now, it was time for the "Word" path of the quest.
But before he could speak, a new presence entered the field.
"...What kind of mess is this now? Why are you fighting someone from the Heavenly Yin Sect under the moon?"
It was Eom Bi-ryeong.
She landed on the southwest wall with the grace of a falling leaf, her eyes wide as she took in the frozen wasteland.
As a Trigram Leader of the Heavenly Formation Tower, she was a connoisseur of energy.
She didn't need a formal introduction to recognize the lethal, sub-zero Qi of one of the Seven Evil Grand Cults.
Bong-su didn't even turn his head. He merely deepened his "Kim Rae-won" smile, letting the warmth return to his features like a mask being reattached.
"Trigram Leader Eom, isn't the night wind a bit harsh?"
Eom Bi-ryeong looked at the shattered trees and the ice-coated walls. 'This isn't night wind, Sect Master. This is midwinter in the middle of spring."
"What is the meaning of this?"
"A guest knocked on the door late at night, Bong-su replied smoothly. He turned back to Ice Night, his voice dropping into a tone of calm authority.
"Let's stop pointing blades here. It's bad for the property value."
Ice Night did not answer immediately. She looked at her wounded shoulder, then at the "Monster" Kim Rae-won, and finally at the Trigram Leader standing on the wall.
One monster was already a death sentence. Facing a Trigram Leader of the Tower alongside him was a strategic impossibility.
The "Abyss" had taught her many things, but the most important was when to retreat so that she might live to kill another day.
"...Alright," she whispered, her cold aura beginning to recede in slow, reluctant waves. "What do you want?"
Bong-su chuckled-a sound of genuine, youthful amusement that made Eom Bi-ryeong tilt her head in confusion.
"What do I want? That's my question for you. But I can guess. You came for Cheol So-a, didn't you?"
Ice Night's brow twitched. "...That's correct."
Bong-su reached up and brushed a stray flake of frost from his ear. "I killed her."
The temperature in the clearing dropped three degrees. "Why?" Ice Night demanded.
"Because she did something deserving of death, Bong-su stated. There was no anger in his voice, only the flat, terrifying finality of a judge reading a verdict.
"If the actions of the Seventh Dharma Maiden were under the sect's command," Ice Night countered, "then her fate is the sect's business, not yours."
"Haha. Is that so? Then listen closely, Guest."
Bong-su began to walk toward her. He didn't use a technique; he just walked, his boots crunching on the ice.
"You know she lived here as the young mistress of the Iron God Society. If you know that, you know exactly what kind of person she was. This city was her playground of misery."
He stopped a few paces away, looking directly into her pale, slush-colored eyes.
"Extorting protection fees? Common enough. But let's talk about the man-eating pigs. Let's talk about the debtors and the 'nuisances thrown into those pens while still screaming. Let's talk about the slave trade-the women and children stolen from nearby villages and sold like cattle."
Ice Night's cold contracted. It wasn't an offensive surge; it was a flinch.
"I know your Heavenly Yin Sect is 'Demonic. I'm not a child; I don't expect an unorthodox faction to play by the rules of the temple. But there is a line."
"Even in the darkness, there is a boundary that separates a demon from a beast."
Bong-su leaned in, his voice becoming a chilling whisper.
"If your Seventh Dharma Maiden stood beyond that line, then your sect should have known. And if you demand that such beasts be left alone in my city..."
He drove the final nail in.
"...Then I will consider the Heavenly Yin Sect to have crossed that line as well. And I will treat you accordingly."
The silence that followed was absolute. Ice Night looked at the city around her. She remembered the order, the cleanliness, the lack of fear she had sensed upon entering. It was a radical rewrite of the city's logic.
If what Kim Rae-won said was true-and her instincts told her it was-Cheol So-a hadn't been a maiden; she had been a cancer.
"...Evidence?" she asked weakly.
"Ask any merchant. Ask the mothers who have their children back. See how the air feels now that the Iron God Society is ash."
Bong-su stepped back, his posture relaxing. "I have her corpse. It has been properly preserved and handled with the respect due to a martial artist, if not a person. And the jade token you followed? It is here as well."
Ice Night's eyes widened. "You would return them?"
"I am a man of my word. I will return the body and the token on two conditions."
He raised two fingers.
"First: The Heavenly Yin Sect will not treat the Hero Gate as an enemy. We are a neutral power of the Middle Path."
"Second: What you saw here tonight-my strength, my techniques-will not be whispered outside these walls for the time being."
Ice Night looked at her bleeding shoulder, then at the moon. The cost of a war with this man was too high, and the justification for Cheol So-a's death was too heavy.
"...Understood," she said.
"Good. Stay the night. You and your followers. We have plenty of room in the guest wing, though it might be a bit warm for your taste."
As the tension evaporated, the winter covering Gangdo began to melt into a gentle spring dew.
In Bong-su's peripheral vision, the System erupted in a cascade of blue light.
[Sudden Quest: Encounter with the Heavenly Yin Sect - RESOLVED]
[Rewards Granted: +3 Hero History]
[The world has become a little more beautiful.]
[Connection with the Heavenly Yin Sect has been formed.]
[Ice Night holds a slight favor toward you.]
[Even ties born from grudges can sometimes become good ties.]
Then, a larger notification drowned out the others.
[Hero History: 51]
[Hero Power has reached the threshold. Rank Increased!]
[You are now ★★ First-Rate (Rising Star).]
[Rank Up Rewards:]
- All Stats +5
- Trait Unlocked: 'Faith Weight'
[Faith Weight]: The words of a hero carry the mass of their deeds. The more people believe in you, the more your voice can shake the world. Persuasion and Intimidation effectiveness increased based on Trust levels.
[New Skills Available for Purchase/Learning]: - Faith Judgment Lv.1 - Hero's Blessing Lv.1
Bong-su felt a surge of qualitative change ripple through his Holeless Body.
His muscles didn't grow larger, but their density increased. His perception sharpened. The world felt... lighter.
He ignored Eom Bi-ryeong, who was still muttering about how he could be so strong without "remembering" his past, and began the walk back to his quarters.
The day was finally over. The Hero Gate was founded, the Tower was baited, the Demonic Cult was neutralized, and he had evolved.
Tomorrow-no, today the interviews for the five hundred applicants would begin.
He had much to do.