Hwa Ga-yeon pulled a reluctant expression and asked,
"Two reasons?"
Cheon Ryuyeong nodded and replied.
"Yes. First, because we are different from the Cheongseong Sect or the Tang Clan."
At that vague answer, Hwa Ga-yeon's eyes turned sullen.
"What do you mean by that?"
"If the demon army moves this way, we can simply abandon this place and withdraw."
Hwa Ga-yeon's eyes widened like lanterns before her face quickly slackened with futility.
"Ahhh… I see. This isn't our sect, just a rented estate, so there's no reason to risk our lives to defend it. Haaa… when you put it that way, it's quite simple. If we hear they're coming, we just withdraw."
"Yes. Exactly."
Hearing Cheon Ryuyeong's words, everyone unintentionally let out bitter smiles. The solution was so simple that they felt foolish for having panicked, even for a moment.
Hwa Ga-yeon also gave a wry smile, then her eyes lit up again as she asked,
"But what's the other reason?"
"That's also simple. In fact, it's the key point. If the demon cult attacks us here, wouldn't we immediately send a messenger pigeon to the Tang Clan, warning them that Sichuan Branch is their true target?"
Hwa Ga-yeon's eyes widened again. She shook her head like someone struck on the back of the head with a club, then chuckled.
"Right. With the Heavenly Demon Sword already leading troops to Mount Cheongseong, if another large army moved against us… then of course the Tang Clan would suspect that Sichuan Branch is the real target."
Her face was filled with guilt as she continued,
"I'm sorry. It's ridiculous that I didn't think of something so simple. I hope my foolish question didn't ruin the mood of this meeting."
Those present bit back embarrassed laughter as they looked at the self-reproaching Hwa Ga-yeon. They realized they were no different from her. And yet they tilted their heads in wonder.
What Cheon Ryuyeong said was something anyone could have thought of. So why had they failed to see it and instead been so flustered?
Cheon Ryuyeong gave Hwa Ga-yeon a gentle smile.
"There's no need to reproach yourself, Miss Hwa. Anyone could have misjudged in that moment."
"Anyone could have thought like me?"
"Yes. Because of the conversation we had just before."
"…?"
Hwa Ga-yeon blinked, not understanding what he meant. Cheon Ryuyeong explained at once.
"It was right after we mentioned that even the two-thousand-strong Cheongseong Sect might have been crushed by the demon cult. Compared to that, we are but three hundred. The sudden sense of crisis naturally clouded judgment."
"Ah! Is that it? That makes sense."
Hwa Ga-yeon nodded vigorously, her face showing comprehension. Cheon Ryuyeong continued with a clear, ringing tone.
"On top of that, the enemy is not only full of experts but also uses ghostly, unpredictable schemes. When that thought is added, the human mind instinctively emphasizes fear and survival over calm reasoning. But if you take a step back, it's something anyone can realize. So you really have no reason to blame yourself."
"…"
"If you'd had even half a moment more, Miss Hwa, you would certainly have thought the same as I did."
At Cheon Ryuyeong's logical yet considerate words, Hwa Ga-yeon felt embarrassed, her heart strangely fluttering at his charming voice directed toward her.
"Yes…"
Her reply trailed off as she stared intently at Cheon Ryuyeong's dazzling face.
Her gaze was noticeably different from before. And it wasn't only her—Jang Deukmu, Namgung Soo, and Bang Yacheol were also watching Cheon Ryuyeong with deep interest.
Meanwhile, others, embarrassed by their earlier panic that echoed Hwa Ga-yeon's, began clearing their throats.
As the room suddenly filled with coughs, Cheon Ryuyeong looked puzzled but then turned to Dokgo Muyeong.
"We've digressed a bit. Clan Head, regarding the Tang Clan—what's their situation?"
Dokgo Muyeong coughed a few more times before answering calmly.
"Nothing unusual. But it seems Elder Tang Su isn't paying any heed to your warnings."
Han Chugwang spoke with a troubled look.
"Confidence, no doubt. And isn't that a place that has earned the right to be confident?"
For the first time, Namgung Soo, who had been silent in his seat, furrowed his brow and cut in.
"May I speak, seniors? The Tang Clan keeping its own guard—that's their business. Isn't it needless worry for us outsiders? Excessive concern is just groundless fear. You all know how closed-off the Tang Clan is."
Cheon Ryuyeong gave him a sheepish look.
"Yes, that's true. But if I were the Heavenly Demon Sword, I would certainly target the Formless Deadly Poison. It's the easiest way to break the Tang Clan. That's why their vigilance cannot be stressed enough."
Namgung Soo's frown deepened, a strange competitiveness stirring in his chest. Especially because when Cheon Ryuyeong had just spoken of the two reasons, he had noticed Dokgo Seol's radiant smile directed toward him—something that left him unsettled.
"Even a child could think of that. But it's impossible. If the Formless Deadly Poison were so easy to reach, why would martial artists have feared the Tang Clan all this time?"
Their gazes clashed without yielding. Namgung Soo's eyes burned with heat, but Cheon Ryuyeong's calm, clear gaze received that heat without wavering.
Neung Unbi found Namgung Soo's casual tone toward Cheon Ryuyeong—whom everyone else addressed with respect—grating. But he agreed with the substance and voiced support.
"Gongja Cheon, the Tang Clan should be fine. The problem is the Cheongseong Sect. Let us pray nothing happens there."
Cheon Ryuyeong gave a bitter smile and shook his head.
"If my fears about Cheongseong are correct, then some plot against the Tang Clan is already underway as well."
Dokgo Muyeong set down his teacup and asked gravely,
"Why are you so certain?"
"Because targeting Cheongseong means they don't intend to abandon Sichuan. As I've said before, it means they plan to deal with both Cheongseong and the Tang Clan before the Mount Song Sect can intervene."
"…"
"Attacking only Cheongseong while leaving the Tang Clan untouched would mean nothing to the demon cult."
Dokgo Muyeong's face showed agreement, but Namgung Soo shook his head and objected.
"Martial Scholar, your point has merit. But do you not see that placing Cheongseong and the Tang Clan on the same level is absurd? Besides, the Tang Clan's surroundings have been quiet. Not even a corpse has turned up."
Namgung Soo's voice grew more heated, but Cheon Ryuyeong still replied in a steady, low tone.
"They won't use the exact same method as with Cheongseong. But the principle is the same: the Tang Clan will bring the demon cult's spy inside themselves."
Namgung Soo slapped his own chest in exasperation.
"And how would they infiltrate, then? No—wait. You said the Tang Clan would invite them in? What on earth do you mean?"
"If not as corpses… then as honored guests invited by the Tang Clan."
At Cheon Ryuyeong's words, the whole assembly looked at him with startled faces. Even Namgung Soo, caught off guard, was left speechless.
Jo Jeonhu scratched his head and tugged at his hair.
"Gongja Cheon, speak plainly. Guests of the Tang Clan? Who could that possibly be?"
Cheon Ryuyeong accepted all their questioning stares and said,
"Before I answer that, let me ask you all a question."
"…?"
"If you were to cross swords with the Tang Clan and their Formless Deadly Poison, would any of you dare fight them head-on?"
It was a bold, almost rude question that pricked at martial pride. But none could answer.
Cheon Ryuyeong swept his gaze across the room before answering himself.
"Of course not. That's how terrifying the Tang Clan's Formless Deadly Poison is—there's no antidote. Which raises a question: with such a dreadful weapon, why has the Tang Clan kept its head down for so many long years?"
As his voice resounded, the eyes of Dokgo Muyeong, Dokgo Seol, Han Chugwang, and Bang Yacheol narrowed almost simultaneously.
"Until a hundred and fifty years ago, the Tang Clan and the Cheongseong Sect were mortal enemies, their relationship beyond repair. But once they created the Formless Deadly Poison, their clashes ceased. It makes sense that the Cheongseong Sect grew wary of the Tang Clan, but why did the Tang Clan, in turn, make no moves against Cheongseong?"
Jo Jeon-hu fiddled with his teacup as he spoke.
"Wasn't it because the Tang Clan declared neutrality, stepping away from the demonic sects?"
"That alone isn't enough to erase centuries of rancor. And the timing is too peculiar. They had a blade in hand, yet abandoned the demonic path to declare neutrality—and left their sworn enemy untouched?"
The assembly listened, spellbound by Cheon Ryuyeong's words. His mellifluous voice continued to flow.
"By creating the Formless Deadly Poison, the Tang Clan had the means to drive the Cheongseong Sect—whom they hated most—into a corner, and exact their revenge. Beyond that, if not unifying all of the martial world, they might have at least dominated the demonic factions. Yet they chose not to."
"…"
"They revealed the terrifying existence of the Formless Deadly Poison, and then fell silent for generations. At most, every few years they revealed it in minor disputes, simply to show that it still existed. They excused their passivity by saying they feared reckless use might leak the poison to outsiders."
At that, Bang Ya-cheol, who had sat arms crossed in silence, finally spoke.
"Is it because producing the Formless Deadly Poison is difficult? That their reserves are extremely limited?"
The entire room's eyes widened. They were shocked not only because Bang Ya-cheol's question had weight, but because the famously taciturn man had chosen to speak at all.
Cheon Ryuyeong smiled faintly.
"Yes, Hero Nangwang. That is what I believe."
Everyone nodded in stunned agreement. Incredible as it sounded, it carried truth.
Han Chu-gwang said gravely,
"I… believe Gongja Cheon is correct."
But Dokgo Muyeong shook his head and answered with caution.
"I too see it as a possibility. But it is not something to conclude rashly. For a hundred and fifty years, the Formless Deadly Poison has been an unspoken terror to all martial artists. In all that time, do you think no one ever considered such a possibility?"
Han Chu-gwang answered with a faint smile.
"Of course, others must have thought the same before Gongja Cheon. Likely many. But who would dare to voice such a reckless suspicion to the world?"
Dokgo Muyeong's eyes widened as he slapped his thigh, exclaiming softly.
"Ah! Of course. It's like a mouse daring to put a bell on a cat. To speak carelessly and incur the Tang Clan's wrath—however small the supply of poison might be—would still spell disaster for oneself and one's sect."
Indeed, there was an unspoken law in the martial world: better to make an enemy of the King of Hell than of the Tang Clan.
Think of it.
The moment the Tang Clan marked someone, from then on that person could never again eat or drink in safety.
No fool in the martial world would make enemies of the Tang Clan based on a reckless guess.
Even so, there must have been bold souls who voiced such suspicions. And likely, they vanished without a trace under the Tang Clan's secret assassinations.
Cheon Ryuyeong nodded.
"And so, as a hundred and fifty years passed, the fear of the Formless Deadly Poison became carved into people's minds. As certain as the sun rising in the east."
A hundred and fifty years.
When one idea takes root in the world for so long, it becomes nearly impossible to doubt. Almost no one would even think to question it.
Dokgo Muyeong tilted his head back, gave a soundless, hollow laugh, then spoke.
"Have we all been deceived by the Tang Clan's audacity—for a hundred and fifty years?"
Everyone clicked their tongues in disbelief. It was not certain, yet somehow Cheon Ryuyeong's words rang true.
Namgung Su, too, stared at Cheon Ryuyeong with wide eyes before speaking.
"Such a daring deduction. But isn't what matters now something else? What you must explain is how exactly the demon cult's spy could enter the Tang Clan as a guest."
Unnoticed by the others, Namgung Su's tone toward Cheon Ryuyeong had changed—from the dismissive "you" to the respectful "you (geudae)."
Cheon Ryuyeong poured fresh tea into his empty cup, then raised his gaze to meet Namgung Su's.
"Before that, allow me to ask one more question."
Namgung Su's eyes twitched. He hated to admit it, but he found himself drawn into Cheon Ryuyeong's reasoning.
"What question?"
"Why did the Tang Clan choose to become orthodox at this point in time?"
Another sharp question from Cheon Ryuyeong.
Namgung Su blinked, struck dumb. How could he know the decisions of the Tang Clan's leaders?
As he bit his lip with a troubled face, Jang Deok-mu finally spoke up for the first time.
"Gongja Cheon. Perhaps… perhaps it has become even harder to produce the Formless Deadly Poison?"
Cheon Ryuyeong gave him a faint smile.
"And why do you think so?"
"Because if they still had enough of it, they might have gambled everything while they could. To elevate their clan to even greater heights."
Cheon Ryuyeong clapped lightly and replied,
"An excellent observation. But that raises another question: why has it become harder to make? The formula itself hasn't simply vanished, has it?"
"…"
Another short silence.
This time, Dokgo Seol spoke.
"There's only one answer. The ingredients must have become difficult to obtain."
Cheon Ryuyeong nodded.
"Exactly. But imagine this—if the Tang Clan were to discover someone who could procure, or already possessed, those ingredients… what then?"
At that, Hwa Ga-yeon shot to her feet and exclaimed,
"They would invite that person at any cost!"
Everyone nodded, eyes alight. But Namgung Su shook his head and said to Cheon Ryuyeong,
"Another splendid theory. Even I, meeting you for the first time today, cannot help but acknowledge it. Yet there is a flaw in this beguiling logic. The world does not know what ingredients are used to make the Formless Deadly Poison."
At his words, Hwa Ga-yeon let out a startled "Ah!" and sank back into her seat, her face reddening with embarrassment at her own outburst.
Cheon Ryuyeong only shrugged calmly, his face impassive. His gaze locked with Namgung Su's once more in the air.
Namgung Su smirked.
"You agree with me on this point, don't you?"
Cheon Ryuyeong shook his head.
"The ingredients of the Formless Deadly Poison… why must one know them?"
"What?"
"The whole contains the parts."
"What in the world does that—"
Namgung Su never finished his sentence. His face suddenly twisted.