Chapter 35

Chapter 35
Grand Strategist Je-gal Hyeon occupied his customary place inside the tactical operations chamber, carefully reviewing the incoming reports that arrived without pause. Most of the missives documented movements tied to the Black Heaven Alliance, and the relentless daily stream outlined an ominous picture.

It was an eerie echo of the past—the unmistakable prelude to an outbreak of war.

Across the front lines, personnel were marshaling in greater numbers, significantly expanding the martial ranks of the Black Heaven Alliance. The training regimens of their elite strike forces had intensified, while grain reserves and armaments production surged within every district under their control. These were the indisputable harbingers of armed conflict. Naturally, the Murim Alliance had not remained passive; they likewise accelerated martial drills, fortified defensive lines, and expanded their stockpiles of military equipment.

Right at that moment, Strategist Sa-ma Il-jung hurried into the room, slightly out of breath.

“An urgent falcon dispatch has arrived from Jeol-gang Province.”

There was good cause for his rare display of haste.

“The sender is Baek So-cheon from the Po-gang branch.”

“Lord Baek—no, Warrior Baek?”

Je-gal Hyeon still found himself slipping into using the respectful title out of ingrained habit from earlier years. He took the communication immediately and swept his gaze across the lines.

The report recorded the recent confrontation regarding the Shin-hwa-bang. Their shadowy sponsor was none other than the Black Heaven Alliance, and upon confronting their leadership, Baek So-cheon had encountered the Alliance Lord of the Black Heaven Alliance in person. Every mention of Cheon-geuk, naturally, had been omitted from the record.

Je-gal Hyeon felt a shock of alarm upon learning of the enemy Alliance Lord’s direct presence. Hyun-cheon Pavilion had indeed been monitoring the Shin-hwa-bang; keeping watch over Baek So-cheon naturally prompted an evaluation of his local environment. Yet they had failed to uncover the hidden connection to the Black Heaven Alliance.

Hyun-cheon Pavilion held responsibility over hundreds of sects, ranging from prominent clans across the Central Plains to factions operating under the sway of the Black Heaven Alliance. Managing that vast network meant they had not yet initiated a thorough investigation into a smaller entity like the Shin-hwa-bang. Even if they had looked closer, they likely would have discovered nothing. Nobody could have conceived that the Black Heaven Alliance would seek to establish a covert stronghold in an isolated corner of Jeol-gang Province—in the deepest rear sector, right within Mun-seong. Had Baek So-cheon been assigned anywhere else, the plot would have stayed entirely concealed.

“This situation cannot stand,” Je-gal Hyeon stated, rising swiftly from his seat. “I must visit the Alliance Lord’s residence.”

“I shall see to things here,” Sa-ma Il-jung replied.

The Grand Strategist exited the operations chamber with determined strides. Sa-ma Il-jung could tell that Je-gal Hyeon intended to demand significant action from the Alliance Lord.

*Whatever your aim might be, bring it to pass, Lord Baek.*

—

Meanwhile, Baek So-cheon and the accompanying Murim Alliance martial artists arrived back at the Mun-seong branch office. Heavy reflections had occupied his mind throughout the journey home.

The specter of war now cast an unmistakable shadow, leaving him deeply unsettled. Having already endured the slaughter of the front lines in the past, he harbored a profound reluctance to ever witness such devastation again.

Upon reaching the branch grounds, he immediately sat down with Jeong-pung.

“Even if other people remain unaware, you are entitled to know the truth.”

Jeong-pung took a steady breath, having anticipated serious news, though nothing quite this grave.

“The Shin-hwa-bang was backed by the Black Heaven Alliance.”

“…!”

Jeong-pung was struck speechless, completely unable to utter a sound. It was an astonishing revelation. Only now did the true weight behind Baek So-cheon’s daring conduct at the gang’s headquarters become apparent.

“And that martial artist stationed inside?”

“It would be wiser for you not to know. But if you truly wish to hear it, I will tell you.”

“No. That will not be necessary.”

There was no need for that immense, imposing presence to turn its sights upon him.

“Should this matter not be reported to the headquarters?”

“I already sent a dispatch to Hyun-cheon Pavilion during the journey back.”

“What should our next course be?”

“The Shin-hwa-bang is finished, so we simply return to our regular duties.”

To Jeong-pung, everything that had transpired felt like an unbelievable dream. He wondered whether life would ever demand such valor from him again, feeling deeply thankful to Baek So-cheon for granting him that chance.

“I shall begin the trip back to my own post.”

“Travel safely.”

Jeong-pung pivoted to depart, yet hesitated and glanced back over his shoulder. Innumerable words crowded his thoughts, yet he could not find the voice to speak them; as happens with age, the right words would only occur to him when it was too late.

“Even after you return to the main headquarters… make sure to visit occasionally.”

“Did you not claim I should only come when you are on your deathbed?”

“Just come.”

Jeong-pung turned away without lingering for an answer. Baek So-cheon quietly watched his departing back.

“We certainly will.”

With Jeong-pung and his branch martial artists gone, daily routines returned to the outpost. Filled with gratitude, old man Go along with the market vendors delivered quantities of provisions to the branch gates.

“Our deepest thanks to all of you. You accomplished something truly remarkable.”

“We merely fulfilled our responsibilities.”

Im Choong and Beon Saeng were overwhelmed by a deep sense of purpose. This was precisely why they served. As Baek So-cheon had stated, turning a blind eye to these people’s suffering would have meant abandoning the Murim Alliance to walk an entirely different path.

Once their duties were completed, the warriors enjoyed food and wine alongside the merchants in a warm, lively gathering.

Afterward, Baek So-cheon dedicated himself fully to his martial training. Lately, he spent his hours practicing the first three movements of the Beon-cheon Gu-gwon. Executing them endlessly until the forms became second nature to his flesh and bones—that was his chosen path to absolute mastery.

He understood that true enlightenment arrived through various means. Sometimes it descended like an unexpected gift from above, while other times it arose through extraordinary experiences. And then there were moments like this, achieved purely through continuous repetition. If one repeated a motion enough times, an hour would come when one realized the truth had already settled inside, so seamless that the realization itself bypassed conscious thought. That was the quiet reward of endless repetition, an understanding he had experienced long ago during his sword training.

Fortunately, his comprehension of the initial three forms had solidified nicely, allowing the training to proceed without hindrance.

Partway through his practice, Im Choong and Beon Saeng walked into the area. Realizing he was engaged in an unfamiliar discipline, Im Choong started to retreat.

“We will return later.”

“Stay and observe. I am finishing up.”

“Understood, sir.”

The two men positioned themselves near the pavilion, silently watching Baek So-cheon’s movements with evident awe. He moved with the deliberate grace of an instructor displaying forms to pupils, slowly cycling through each posture, raising or lowering angles, widening or narrowing his footing. Having been conditioned to believe that techniques must follow unbending rules, the two onlookers felt profoundly moved.

Martial arts typically demanded absolute adherence to secret manuals or the exact guidance of masters. Yet Baek So-cheon seemed to bend the style entirely to fit himself. Where a script might prescribe a strike aimed toward the jaw, he smoothly redirected the impact toward the chest. Naturally, both men recognized that careless deviations would ordinarily destroy an art’s foundation.

Once the exercise drew to a close, Beon Saeng, who had struggled to keep quiet, spoke up.

“Were you practicing fist techniques, Leader?”

“I was.”

“I have always heard that the sword reigns supreme among all weapons. That was my reason for learning it. So why concentrate on bare fists rather than the blade?”

“I trained with the sword as well.”

“I knew it!” Beon Saeng had suspected as much from the moment they met; Baek So-cheon carried that unmistakable presence unique to master swordsmen, to the point that one might mistake his bearing for a sheathed weapon.

“In my current state, this is my swordsmanship. I use my fists to win it back.”

Every step of his daily practice—whether utilizing fists, the spear, or lightness arts—represented an effort to return to his former heights. He had to attain the outer limits of these martial forms to restore his lost internal power.

Im Choong and Beon Saeng failed to grasp his true meaning.

“What does that mean…?”

“It is nothing you need worry about.”

Discussing the martial path had awakened an intense urge within Beon Saeng.

“If I may ask… would you ever consider giving me instruction?”

“No.” The response came as flat and direct as a strike, cutting down his tentative hope.

“I suspected as much.” Yet his persistent yearning lingered. “Even so… having a stronger younger brother at your side would surely put your mind at ease.”

“For what reason?”

“Why? Because then you would not have to worry about us being harmed or killed.” Beon Saeng pouted slightly. “Of course. Martial artists perish across the Central Plains every day. What does one more corpse matter? Besides, you do not even consider me your brother.”

Im Choong stepped in to chide him. “Squad Leader Beon, the passing down of martial arts is handled with utmost caution, even among close family.”

“I am well aware of that.”

Baek So-cheon interrupted their exchange. “That is not the issue.”

“Then what is it?”

“It has nothing to do with personal affection. I have no intention of bestowing my clan’s secret techniques—only basic foundations suited to your abilities. It is hardly a grand matter.”

“Then why refuse to teach us?”

The reply came as a complete shock.

“Because it would cause your early death.”

Beon Saeng stared back in utter bewilderment. “What?”

“Right now, you are able to overlook small injustices, correct? If you possessed greater martial skill, could you truly maintain that restraint?”

“…I could not.”

“All of that suppressed anger inside you would erupt at once.”

Beon Saeng had no way to argue against the truth of those words. In fact, he had harbored notions of hanging an ostentatious martial banner right across the Mun-seong marketplace.

“You would intervene once, perhaps twice. Eventually, misfortune would find you.”

“I would simply weigh when to charge forward and when to withdraw. I am an orphan without a wife or family—nobody would mourn if I met an early grave.”

He spoke with an edge of petulance, knowing he was being unreasonable yet driven by sheer desperation. It might have appeared pitiful, but he longed to grow stronger and wander the wider world with genuine purpose; Baek So-cheon had sparked that burning ambition within him.

“I have plenty of wits. I would never rush blindly into trouble. I swear it.”

“Trouble is not the only threat.”

“Then what else?”

“Grudges. An adversary consumed by vengeance.”

“Then I would simply train harder to surpass them.”

“They would never confront you honorably. What if they paid a tavern server to lace your meal with poison? What if they slipped into your chambers while you slept to cut your throat, or launched a concealed dart into your back? How do you intend to guard against that?”

The grim possibilities sent a chill through their chests, making their breathing tight.

“Endure the quiet days and stay alive. That is the only path to a long life.”

Beon Saeng stood lost in thought for several moments before finally speaking.

“I was mistaken.”

“I am glad you realize it.”

“No—my entire mindset was flawed. I should never have begged you directly for guidance. I must prove my resolve through my own solitary training first, until you look at me and think, ‘That fellow has earned the right to learn.'”

He recognized that he had been seeking a shortcut while neglecting the towering mountain of personal effort.

*Indeed, I would never teach someone like me either.*

He gave a respectful bow and turned to sprint away. “Thank you for opening my eyes, brother!”

Life’s profound resolutions were not mere acts of self-reproach; they marked the start of a fresh opportunity. Beon Saeng pledged to commit himself wholly to his training to see if he could transform his own destiny. It was an honest effort to reconstruct his life—not merely buying remedies from an apothecary, but becoming the medicine itself.

Im Choong watched his fellow squad leader run off and offered a gentle smile. “I have already begun my own training.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

When he had massaged Baek So-cheon’s shoulders and felt the astonishing vitality radiating beneath the skin, a fierce resolve had ignited within his own chest. Baek So-cheon had claimed that at his age, he had been unable to even stand upright. Im Choong trusted those words completely; there was no falsehood in the man before him.

“I cannot match Squad Leader Beon’s lofty ambitions, but I intend to push myself.” He was not pursuing grand glory, being entirely content with his humble life. His goal was merely to protect his family so that an ordeal like the Black Water near-annihilation would never happen again. “I will take my leave as well.”

Left by himself once more, Baek So-cheon glanced toward the shadow of the structure behind him.

“Have you finished eavesdropping? Show yourself.”

A figure slowly stepped forward into the open.

“The atmosphere here seems even more stifling than the tactical command center.”

It was Grand Strategist Je-gal Hyeon.