Chapter 36

Chapter 36
Sentinels assembled in formation around Je-gal Hyeon. A few among their ranks were countenances that Baek So-cheon recognized at once. Although their numbers represented only the barest detachment required for personal defense, they were the absolute pinnacle of guardians, as befitted the personal escort of the Grand Strategist.

“A great deal of time has passed,” Je-gal Hyeon greeted him.

“Please, enter,” Baek So-cheon answered.

While traveling back from the main base of Shin-hwa-bang, he had paused at the closest Po-gang post to release a message carrier toward Hyun-cheon Pavilion. Even so, he had never conceived that Je-gal Hyeon would undertake the long trek to this distant outpost in person.

“Let us step indoors,” Baek So-cheon said.

“The warmth is heavy today—let us converse out here instead,” Je-gal Hyeon replied.

“As you wish.”

The pair sat down together upon a courtyard bench. Baek So-cheon held profound, unwavering respect for Je-gal Hyeon. Through the fires of the preceding war, they had forged an unbreakable bond of reliance. Je-gal Hyeon was convinced that the Black Heaven Alliance had been held back solely because of Baek So-cheon’s presence, while Baek So-cheon placed full credit upon the brilliant calculations of Je-gal Hyeon.

“How has your time here treated you?” Je-gal Hyeon inquired.

“Surely you are already entirely informed,” Baek So-cheon countered softly.

Je-gal Hyeon gave a faint laugh. “That is true enough. Little escapes my sight.” Indeed, he received regular dispatches chronicling every single development surrounding Baek So-cheon within Mun-seong.

“Wherever mortals gather, existence remains identical,” Baek So-cheon said. “There are decent souls, and there are foul ones.”

Je-gal Hyeon nodded slowly in concurrence. “Even so, Mun-seong was a perilous anomaly. If you had not personally arrived in this region, Baek Pavilion Lord, catastrophic ruin would have erupted down the road.”

“It was merely fortunate timing,” Baek So-cheon replied.

“A tremendous stroke of luck, truly,” Je-gal Hyeon acknowledged.

The notion of adversaries quietly gathering strength in the rear lines during the height of full-scale war, only to strike their blind spots or be trusted with crucial duties, was thoroughly terrifying.

“The Black Heaven Alliance Lord chose to meet me in person simply because he possesses supreme certainty,” Baek So-cheon noted.

“Certainty that total victory in the war belongs to him.”

Baek So-cheon inclined his head in silent agreement.

A quiet stillness lingered between them before Je-gal Hyeon asked, “Do you have any spirits to share?”

“Did you not swear off wine entirely?” Baek So-cheon asked.

“Let us have a drink together today. It has been ages,” Je-gal Hyeon insisted.

During the fiercest chapter of the previous conflict, Je-gal Hyeon had renounced drink completely. Even throughout the truce, he had refused to taste a drop. Yet sitting face-to-face with Baek So-cheon stirred that long-buried urge once more.

“Give me just a moment.”

Baek So-cheon brought forth a jar of spirits, and the two companions shared the drink.

“It tastes wonderful after such an absence,” Je-gal Hyeon murmured.

“My apologies that it is not a superior brew.”

“Pay that no mind. For someone like me who knows nothing of rare vintages, the true essence of wine depends entirely upon the company,” Je-gal Hyeon countered.

Perhaps due to his extended abstinence, a reddish flush bloomed across Je-gal Hyeon’s features after only a few cups.

“Baek Pavilion Lord, return with me to the main fortress,” he urged directly. “I need your presence.”

“Did the Alliance Lord grant his permission?” Baek So-cheon asked.

“He placed the matter in my hands.”

When asked if sanction had been granted, the response was merely delegation. How was one meant to interpret that? Assent had certainly not been given with genuine favor, that much was clear.

After a brief hesitation, Je-gal Hyeon spoke candidly. “To speak plain truth, the Alliance Lord voiced neither approval nor refusal regarding your reinstatement.”

True to his usual aloofness, the leader had maintained total neutrality.

When confronting him directly, Je-gal Hyeon had pressed:

—Grant me permission to bring Baek So-cheon back. I shall assume personal liability for any complications that arise.

The Alliance Lord had almost certainly looked upon the proposal with displeasure. The sword had already been stripped away, making Je-gal Hyeon’s demand to recall him border on open defiance.

Even so, Je-gal Hyeon had firmly resolved to retrieve him.

With the Black Heaven Alliance’s aggressions mounting by the day, the hollow void left by Baek So-cheon’s absence weighed heavier with every passing hour. Perusing Baek So-cheon’s most recent letter had merely finalized that conviction.

The Murim Alliance stood in dire need of him. No—Je-gal Hyeon himself needed him desperately.

—Please place your faith in my judgment, Alliance Lord.

He had ventured this far purely on faith. The Alliance Lord might harbor resentment toward him, but he could not simply cast aside his chief strategist at such an hour, even if it risked planting deeper seeds of hatred.

Je-gal Hyeon unveiled his heart without reservation.

“I possess no confidence in waging this war without you beside me.”

They were excruciating words to speak aloud. For him to pursue a man bereft of internal energy with such raw desperation laid bare his own fracturing assurance.

“I will be of little practical assistance,” Baek So-cheon replied.

“Yet you possess the hard-won experience of surviving the war without internal power, do you not? Please, aid me. I am well aware of how shameless this entreaty is.”

Had his desperation run this deep, he should never have allowed him to be cast aside to begin with. Like every other leader in the Alliance, he had yielded beneath the heavy gaze of the Alliance Lord, and now, driven by sheer panic, his shame was swept aside by necessity.

Though Baek So-cheon had not yet spoken his agreement, Je-gal Hyeon began outlining the details.

“If circumstances permitted, I would reinstall you as the Bi-gak Lord or the Commander of the Cheol-geom-dan at once, but internal factional friction forbids it.”

Simply orchestrating his return was already a massive political hazard.

“Instead, I will establish an entirely separate unit directly under Hyun-cheon Pavilion for you to lead. Not a simple detachment, but an entire company.”

It was an astounding proposal.

“You will possess supreme authority over personnel, completely independent operational command, and comprehensive immunity.”

Other divisions would inevitably decry the arrangement as blatant favoritism. Je-gal Hyeon would have to absorb that backlash alone as the Hyun-cheon Pavilion Lord. He was wagering monumental political standing simply to secure Baek So-cheon’s return.

How could Baek So-cheon fail to see that Je-gal Hyeon was staking his entire career?

Drinking quietly, Baek So-cheon finally broke the hush.

“Very well. I shall return.”

“Ah, you have my deepest gratitude. Truly,” Je-gal Hyeon gasped, his countenance brightening as though he had just gained the backing of an entire heavenly army.

“However, I must present one presumptuous request.”

“Name it.”

“Wherever your authority allows you to walk, grant me entry as well.”

In other words, he demanded access to the restricted domains that pavilion lords frequented freely, such as every inner vault of the Man-seo-go archive and the subterranean, visitation-barred levels of the Alliance’s underground prison.

These were facilities once open to him during his tenure as Bi-gak Lord—archives to examine and prisoners to confront.

“Agreed,” Je-gal Hyeon answered without hesitation.

Indeed, without granting such liberties, recalling him would carry little purpose. The administrative resistance would be fierce, but he was prepared to bear that burden.

Je-gal Hyeon rose to take his departure.

“I will travel ahead to lay the groundwork. I look forward to your prompt arrival at the main fortress.”

“May you travel safely.”

Je-gal Hyeon set off on his path.

Left alone, Baek So-cheon remained upon the courtyard bench, gazing quietly up at the pale moon as a heavy breath drifted from his lips.

“Hoo.”

Je-gal Hyeon sought his presence to secure victory in the impending war.

Baek So-cheon, however, held an entirely different aim:

Not merely triumphing in the conflict, but preventing the war from ever igniting in the first place.

—

The sharp hiss of parted air whistled across the grounds.

In a quiet corner of the martial field, Beon Saeng repeatedly cleaved his blade through the air. Perspiration poured from his skin in sheets, yet he continued unyielding, endlessly drilling through his weapon routines.

The martial arts he practiced originated from his humble former school. Having lost his parents at a tender age, he had drifted aimlessly until an unexceptional countryside training hall took him under its roof. He had endured relentless mockery and harsh deprivation there, yet he had managed to learn basic martial arts. Having built his strength, he had barely scraped through the entrance examinations to enter the Murim Alliance.

Completing a set, Beon Saeng noticed Baek So-cheon watching quietly from a distance.

“Brother!”

“You have been training hard.”

“Compared to your discipline, my training amounts to nothing at all,” Beon Saeng grinned. “Still, after returning to practice after so long, I feel my vigor rising, and my mood has never been better.”

“At this rate, you will die a satisfied man one day,” Baek So-cheon remarked dryly.

“Is it not better to blaze brightly like an inferno than to slowly turn to ash?”

As he prepared to swing again, Baek So-cheon splashed cool water over him.

“Cool those flames down a little. Bring Im Branch Chief to my quarters. We have matters to discuss.”

—

“I am returning to the central headquarters.”

Im Choong and Beon Saeng froze, staring back in sheer astonishment.

“Truly?”

“Yes.”

“When do you leave?”

“Within a matter of days.”

“So abruptly?”

The declaration struck them like a bolt of lightning. They had only just handled the Shin-hwa-bang crisis in grand style and were looking forward to smooth sailing, only to be hit by this unexpected farewell.

“Shin-hwa-bang will seek no retaliation, so you need not worry on that front,” Baek So-cheon added, noting their silence.

A heavy hush lingered over the room. Thoughts scrambled wildly, yet words failed them. Ultimately, Beon Saeng gave voice to his rawest impulse.

“Brother! How can you do this? Are you truly leaving us behind? Please do not cast us aside! Take us along with you!”

“Very well.”

A stunned quiet descended.

Beon Saeng blinked, bewildered. “What did you say?”

“We will travel together.”

“We truly can?”

“Yes, provided you are prepared to sever ties with your current life here,” Baek So-cheon warned. “You will no longer hold the status of squad leader or branch chief; you will begin from the very bottom as common soldiers. Can you accept that?”

Silence settled once more.

Beon Saeng was the first to shatter it.

“If you are willing to have me, brother, I will follow you anywhere.”

He cast a cautious glance toward Im Choong. Unlike his solitary self, Im Choong had a family to look after. Stepping down from a squad leader position was one thing, but stepping down from the rank of branch chief while providing for a spouse and child was an entirely different matter.

It was no simple sacrifice, and Beon Saeng assumed he would have to decline. A pang of guilt struck him, feeling that abandoning their shared life here to follow Baek So-cheon bordered on betrayal.

Indeed, Im Choong showed visible hesitation.

Beon Saeng turned to ask, “Brother, given my meager martial abilities, will I not simply become a burden to you?”

“You misunderstand my nature,” Baek So-cheon said flatly. “I possess no noble inclination to drag dead weight along.”

“Then why have you agreed to take me?”

“Because you are dependable.”

“……!”

Warm emotion surged within Beon Saeng’s chest.

“You are reasonably gullible, soft-hearted, and easy to employ,” Baek So-cheon added coolly.

“Must you lay out your recruitment criteria so bluntly?” Beon Saeng muttered, feigning offense while his heart beamed with pride. Trustworthiness was the foremost reason.

Turning toward the still-hesitating Im Choong, Beon Saeng said gently, “I apologize for rushing ahead with my own choice, Branch Chief.”

He was certain the answer would be no.

Yet life always brings unexpected turns.

“If I am allowed to bring my family with me, I will follow you as well,” Im Choong declared resolutely.

Baek So-cheon nodded without hesitation. “You may bring them.”

“Truly?”

“Yes.”

“Will our presence not place an undue burden upon your shoulders?”

“A family is never a burden—it is a man’s source of strength.”

Hearing that crisp, definitive response, Im Choong felt his heart swell with overwhelming emotion.

“Brother!”

A mixture of joy, humility, and relief washed over him. Baek So-cheon had dismantled his deepest worries with a single sentence.

In a quieter tone, Baek So-cheon said, “I understand the fears weighing on your minds. Place your trust in me. Remaining here offers no greater safety than walking into the center.”

It was a loaded hint pointing toward the approaching tempest of war.

With that, their paths pivoted irrevocably.

Taking things a step further, Baek So-cheon commanded, “Follow me outside.”

He guided them out into the open courtyard.

“If I am to put you to use, you must first possess practical utility.”

“Could it be…?” Beon Saeng stammered, his eyes trembling with excitement.

“Indeed,” Baek So-cheon answered. “I shall teach you sword arts tailored to your current foundation—a few practical stances.”

It was his parting gift to them for casting aside their established lives.

Having survived two decades immersed in the brutal fires of war, Baek So-cheon possessed the profound insight required to craft foundational martial techniques on the spot.

He drew Beon Saeng’s sword from its sheath with a clean metallic ring.

Both men focused with absolute concentration, determined not to miss a single breath.

Gazing along the surface of the steel blade, Baek So-cheon’s expression deepened with gravity.

“A warrior who grips the hilt must always remember that he is simultaneously grasping the naked edge. Never allow that truth to slip from your mind.”

It was a piece of wisdom born of vast experience, carrying profound implications. Though neither of them could fathom its complete depth immediately, the words carved themselves into their hearts.

“We will remember it always, brother,” they vowed. The day would surely come when they would comprehend its full meaning.

Baek So-cheon then instructed Im Choong to demonstrate his personal forms. Having already observed Beon Saeng earlier, he skipped him.

After carefully assessing their respective habits and limits, he devised and demonstrated a customized seven-form sword technique for each of them—routines vastly superior to anything they had practiced previously.

“These were conceived just now, so they possess no formal names.”

“May we bestow names upon them ourselves, if you allow it?” Beon Saeng asked eagerly.

“Name them however you please.”

He proceeded to correct every minute flaw in their stances with painstaking precision, answering every inquiry in exhaustive detail. Whenever the matter turned to martial arts, Baek So-cheon’s casual demeanor and gruffness vanished completely, replaced by pure, razor-sharp focus. Caught up in his fervor, the two men threw themselves into the training.

As the instruction continued, they could only marvel: could swordplay truly be this intuitive? Every word he spoke settled naturally into their movements.

Once the demonstration and adjustments were complete, Baek So-cheon said, “Attain true mastery over these forms, and you will not easily find yourselves humiliated wherever you wander.”

“Brother, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts,” they said in unison, bowing deeply before him in recognition of this monumental blessing.

“Save your expressions of gratitude for later,” Baek So-cheon warned dryly. “These very techniques may well lead to your death.”

Beon Saeng answered with rare, uncharacteristic gravity.

“If that comes to pass, the fault will rest entirely upon my own poor judgment, careless practice, or botched execution. It will bear no relation to what you have taught us. Please know this, brother: this is the most moving moment of my entire existence. Never has anyone in my life shown me such genuine benevolence.”

Tears welled at the corners of his eyes. Having survived purely on orphan grit until now, this marked the very first true kindness he had ever received.

“That is precisely how fools are reeled in,” Baek So-cheon countered with a faint scoff. “Offer them a shred of benevolence, and they willingly surrender their youth and their very lives. That is the exact mechanism by which worldly sects exploit the young.”

“If that makes me a fool, I am content with it,” Beon Saeng answered cheerfully.

“A day will come when you regret it,” Baek So-cheon said. “Never allow yourself to be captivated by the calculated favors of opportunists.”

Baek So-cheon sought to shatter their overflowing reverent awe, but today, their devotion remained diamond-solid.

“Just allow it for this single occasion!” Beon Saeng grinned.

A faint smirk appeared on Baek So-cheon’s lips.

“It seems I have hooked a remarkably obedient mark.”

At his words, Im Choong and Beon Saeng broke into wide, radiant smiles.