The journey that had started toward the Martial Alliance headquarters.

From where the Blue Moon Sect was, the place where the headquarters stood wasn’t that far.

At most, two days if you stretched it.

Even if it was all Henan, distances varied, but no matter how generously you counted, it was a trip you’d arrive within two days.

Today was the point where one full day had passed and it had just become the second day.

“Elder, about when do you think we’ll reach our destination?”

I asked Chudong. Back in the day, I wouldn’t have had the guts to ask something like this.

But after spending a few months together, I’d gotten to where I could at least ask this much.

At my words, Chudong, seated up on the driver’s bench, let out a hearty chuckle and answered.

“Seems like there’s about two to three shichen left, sir.”

“Mm....”

Two to three shichen—if you did the math, that wasn’t much time left.

Thinking through the timing, I leaned back into the carriage seat.

“...To think I’d make it this far.”

The place where the Martial Alliance headquarters stood—Henan’s center, and where Shaolin sat as one of the pillars of the Ten Great Sects.

The hub of the orthodox faction, a region where, among those affiliated with the Martial Alliance, only the very best of the very best were said to be able to go.

When I recalled that fact, it hit in a strangely vivid way.

[Excited?]

At Yoo Cheongil’s words, I held back a laugh.

Excited?

As if.

‘Like hell.’

Excited, my ass. I’m so tense I could die.

“...I’m really going to the Martial Alliance headquarters?”

Even back when I was in Anhui, I’d felt a certain kind of relief at becoming affiliated with the Martial Alliance.

Sure, it was basically a parachute drop-in, but I’d still ended up belonging to an alliance people called the future and present of the orthodox world.

I’d thought that if I just got what I needed out of this place, the rest of my life would at least be comfortable.

‘It would’ve been nice if it stopped there.’

No matter what, this was not what I’d been hoping for.

Getting snagged by some malicious ghost out of nowhere and being told I had to become the strongest under heaven, getting ground up for it.

Being told I’d die if I didn’t learn martial arts.

Having my realm forced upward against my will.

And now, of all things, I was heading to the one place I’d thought I’d never be able to go: the Martial Alliance headquarters.

“...Is this right?”

How the hell did my life end up like this?

Tsk.

I’d tried to live a decent life in my own way, but I never—seriously never—imagined it would turn out like this.

Will this go well?

The Dragon-Phoenix Gathering.

As I thought of the reason I was heading to the headquarters—and the worry that came with it—I creased my brow.

What is Divine Spear thinking?

The current Alliance Leader, and one of the rare Heaven-Beyond-Heaven masters still active in the world.

I couldn’t understand why Divine Spear had called me in.

No way.

He’s not actually trying to screw me over, right?

It didn’t seem likely that an absolute master who’d reached the summit ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) would use his authority just for a reason like that, but...

Thinking about what that old man had done, maybe he would.

The possibility was more than real.

That was why I was even more uneasy.

“Hrng....”

I swallowed my groan along with the worry, and just as I was about to close my eyes—

“Are you nervous?”

At the voice, I turned my gaze. A handsome face was right in front of me.

It was Cheon Eujin.

“...I’d be lying if I said no. It’s my first time taking part in something this big.”

“Hahaha. It’s nothing. People call it a big festival, but there’s absolutely no need to be nervous.”

“Ah... right....”

As I spoke, I looked down at Cheon Eujin’s legs.

“...Then I assume that applies to you too, Young Lord Cheon?”

“Huh? Of course.”

Cheon Eujin answered confidently, and I made a dubious face as I listened.

‘Then stop shaking your leg like a maniac, you bastard....’

Beneath that calm expression, Cheon Eujin’s leg was bouncing like it had lost its mind.

Contrary to his words, it was an obvious sign he was tense as hell.

He was telling me it was fine, but I knew what the words actually meant.

‘That’s what you’re telling yourself.’

And it probably was.

Inside this carriage, the most nervous one was Cheon Eujin.

As for the others...

Everyone’s so calm.

No one else was showing much of a reaction.

Do Hyeong had an arm hooked over the window frame, checking outside.

Cheon Hyein was sitting straight as a ruler, eyes closed.

And Tang Cheon-il—well, as always—just wore a dissatisfied look and seemed content with grinding his own tongue.

In that state, we’d spent a full day moving by carriage.

Hmm.

Thinking of that, I looked at Cheon Hyein.

The moment she got into the carriage, she’d closed her eyes and hadn’t said a single word.

She hadn’t even spoken with Cheon Eujin, the one she herself had recommended.

The one watching her mood was Cheon Eujin.

‘I didn’t say it, like she asked. But why?’

Cheon Hyein had told me not to mention that Cheon Eujin was in the group because of her recommendation.

Was that even part of her conditions, too?

So I hadn’t bothered explaining it to Cheon Eujin.

‘Looking at this, it’s not like they’re close.’

Everyone already knew their sibling relationship was a mess.

Even so, I still didn’t understand why Cheon Hyein had said she wanted to bring Cheon Eujin to the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering.

Is there something going on?

I wondered if there was some hidden meaning, but—

Now’s not the time to care about that.

I didn’t have the bandwidth to worry about even that.

I pulled my eyes off Cheon Hyein and looked down at my hands.

A thick stack of letters filled them.

This was something Moon-Thread Sword had sent me before we departed.

It was also something I’d asked him for.

What he got from the Beggar Clan.

The talents drawing the most attention in the Central Plains right now.

Detailed information on the Seven Prodigies.

And not just the widely known stuff—deeper details than what people could usually get their hands on.

I was going through it page by page.

Two to three shichen left.

That was enough time to cram it all into my head. Thinking that, I started to read again, when—

[Kid.]

Yoo Cheongil’s voice came.

[Look out the window.]

I frowned.

Out the window?

Why the hell was he suddenly telling me to look out there?

I turned my eyes and looked outside.

There’s nothing.

Nothing looked strange out there.

What am I supposed to be looking at? Was he messing with me?

I was about to pull my head back in—

“Looks like you noticed too.”

“Huh?”

Cheon Hyein’s voice.

Noticed? What?

Not understanding, I looked at Do Hyeong, but Do Hyeong had already been staring out the window for a while.

CLINK.

He rested a hand on the sword at his waist.

What is this?

Was I the only one who didn’t get it?

But thankfully, Cheon Eujin and Poison Dragon didn’t look like they understood either.

“It’s coming.”

Do Hyeong said.

And then—

“Honored guests...! There’s something up ahead!”

Chudong shouted. At that, I stared out the window more carefully.

Only then did I see it.

That is...?

There was a carriage ahead.

And it was huge.

...Why is it so huge?

The carriage the Blue Moon Sect had provided was already no joke, but that one was even worse.

A carriage painted black as pitch, with three black horses lined up in front.

And—

That emblem.

A flag fluttered above the carriage. A black dragon drawn against a white field.

Anyone in the Central Plains would recognize it.

That was—

...The Peng Clan?

The absolute power of Hebei.

A prestigious orthodox house, one of the Five Great Clans of the Central Plains.

It was the emblem of the Hebei Peng Clan.

*****

The Hebei Peng Clan.

An orthodox clan seated in Hebei, one of the Five Great Clans called the pillars of the orthodox world.

A clan whose Clan Head was an absolute master comparable to the Five Kings Under Heaven.

A place ruled by Blade Absolute Peng Wooseong.

A martial house that, true to his sobriquet, wielded blades as their beloved weapon.

Every last one of them had a huge frame, and the family was also known for a high understanding of external cultivation, even among internal and external cultivation.

And an even bigger characteristic was—

‘They’re idiots.’

Or violent.

For a “prestigious house,” it carried a rather brutal reputation.

...So why are they here?

Why was the Peng Clan here of all places?

As I watched out the window with a baffled look, our carriage approached them and slowly began to reduce speed.

I could feel a presence. People were there, which meant—

‘They know we’re coming and they’re blocking us anyway.’

What the hell? A bad feeling soaked everything.

[The Peng Clan, huh.]

Yoo Cheongil spoke, sounding almost amused.

[That’s the clan of the Blade God, is it.]

At Yoo Cheongil’s words, I secretly swallowed.

Blade God Peng Seolhyeok.

A master from the Peng Clan, a Heaven-Beyond-Heaven.

He’d died during the war with the Heavenly Demon Cult.

HIIIIIIGH—!!!

The carriage finally came to a full stop.

The moment we stopped, Chudong climbed down and, hauling his small body, walked toward the Peng Clan.

“Um... we need to pass through. Would you be able to clear the way for us?”

He asked carefully, and for a moment it seemed like there’d be no response.

Then the driver sitting over there spoke.

“Sorry, but our master hasn’t permitted it, so we can’t move.”

‘What kind of insane bullshit is that?’

I’d just heard nonsense. They called that an answer?

No permission, so they can’t clear the road?

What are they, bandits?

I frowned. I was about to get out—

CREEEAK.

The door of the Peng Clan’s carriage opened first.

And then—

THUD—!

A massive foot stretched out of the carriage and stamped the ground.

“Hoo.”

Along with a thick exhale, someone hauled himself out.

CRRRK.

“Ah, for fuck’s sake.”

While he came out with his head lowered, a sound came from the carriage door. It cracked.

“...Seriously. Broke it again.”

The one speaking as he emerged.

I widened my eyes as I looked at him.

Big.

He was huge. Too huge.

Just by bulk alone, he was on the level of Yoo Cheongil.

And it wasn’t just that he was tall—he was simply big.

His entire body was big.

A young man in black martial garb, with a physique so massive the already large door looked small on him.

“Pardon the inconvenience.”

A rugged, masculine face with thick, heavy lines.

With broad shoulders carried like a wall, the young man spoke to Chudong.

“I’ve got some business over that way, so I had no choice but to block the road.”

...That guy?

Looking at him, something clicked.

I felt like I knew who he was.

His face matched exactly what I’d been reading in those letters.

That guy is definitely—

“Hrk....”

“Black-Grand Saber!”

“Huh?”

Before I could even say it, someone next to me kicked off the carriage and lunged out.

It was Tang Cheon-il.

What the hell is he doing?

I stared at Tang Cheon-il in confusion, but he was already outside.

“You...!”

“Hm?”

The young man reacted when he saw Tang Cheon-il rush out of nowhere.

“Oh. What’s this.”

Like he’d recognized him, he beamed.

“Looks like it’s the Tang Clan’s fuckhead. Didn’t think I’d run into you here. Good to see you.”

...Wow.

He just slammed down a vicious line right away.

“Fuckhead.”

That’s insane.

...That’s some crazy self-awareness.

My favorability ticked up a little.

“...You piece of shit...!!”

Tang Cheon-il’s face twisted at the young man’s words.

The young man was a Peng Clan figure, and a pretty famous one.

Black-Grand Saber Peng Dojin.

One of the Seven Prodigies the Central Plains was watching.

‘So that’s why he was flipping out like that.’

Black-Grand Saber and Poison Dragon had bad blood.

And it made sense.

...Didn’t they say he got crushed in one strike?

At the last Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, the one who had completely wrecked Poison Dragon was that hulking bastard.

“How interesting. Why are you here?”

“...You dog bastard. I’m going to kill you...!”

“Oh?”

As Tang Cheon-il started to unleash his energy, Peng Dojin admired it and tilted his head.

And then—

THUD—!

Tang Cheon-il wrapped himself in power and charged in like an arrow.

His presence went shallow. He’d wrapped his body in a poison art and rushed in.

He’s fighting out of nowhere?

I was still stunned by the sudden turn when—

“Well, now.”

Peng Dojin spoke like he was troubled.

“And you’re still...”

WHOOF—!!

He curled his fist.

“...a fuckhead.”

And then, just like that—

THUD—!!!

“GHK—!”

He planted it straight into Tang Cheon-il’s face.

Tang Cheon-il took it head-on and slammed into the ground.

What the—holy shit.

Did he just die?

One cheek looked caved in.

The sight of him trembling on the ground was ugly enough to make my eyes hurt.

And on top of that—

Crushed in one strike...

Black-Grand Saber had pulverized Poison Dragon with a single hit.

The difference in skill was obvious.

In the quiet air after a “fight” that couldn’t even be called an exchange—

THUD.

Black-Grand Saber stepped over Tang Cheon-il’s fallen body and walked this way.

“I’ve got something I want to ask.”

He didn’t even act like what just happened mattered. Like he had no interest at all.

“It looks like a Blue Moon Sect carriage. So I figured the one I’m looking for might be inside.”

The closer he got, the deeper my frown became.

His presence wasn’t normal.

But the bigger problem was—

“...What was the name again...? Ah. Right.”

What he said next.

“Bang Sungyeon.”

...Huh?

“Little Sword Saint Bang Sungyeon. Is he in there?”

Black-Grand Saber—the one who had just broken Tang Cheon-il—

Was looking for me.