Chapter 53

Chapter 53
Accompanied by a young girl, Cheon-geuk stepped through the gates of the estate.

To any passerby, the sweet-faced child appeared completely ordinary, yet she was in truth Na-sa-rin, the seasoned elder of the Sal-su Yeon-maeng. She was the very individual who had broken the Wang Gon clan’s steward through the Soul Subjugation Art to force a confession; however, premature mastery of that cursed discipline had arrested her physical growth, leaving her perpetually trapped in the form of a youth.

When Baek So-cheon sought to acquire spiritual elixirs, Cheon-geuk had turned directly to Na-sa-rin for assistance.

“I regret putting you through such inconvenience.”

“Inconvenience? If the Alliance Lord requires my humble backing, coming to your aid is merely my duty.”

Her steadfast dedication to both the alliance and its leader had secured her status as a revered senior within the Sal-su Yeon-maeng across many decades. Today, that enduring network of connections was being leveraged solely on Baek So-cheon’s behalf.

A middle-aged merchant awaited their arrival within the expansive central chamber.

His attire fairly radiated wealth. His fine boots were crafted from prime materials, and every accessory he wore mirrored that opulence, though none of it tipped into gaudy excess—it appeared as the deliberate, refined presentation of an astute tradesman.

The instant Cheon-geuk crossed the threshold, her instincts flared. Two martial experts were concealed behind the partition wall nearest the man, while a third presence hovered hidden above the rafters.

The man sheltered by these unseen sentries went by the name of Maek-ga.

Throughout the jianghu, he was famous as a dealer of miraculous medicines. His trade thrived on buying cheap, selling at exorbitant markups, or claiming hefty broker fees by bridging desperate buyers and discreet suppliers.

While such dealings suggested vast fortunes, reality was far messier. Massive payouts were constantly required to retain elite mercenaries against raiders targeting his stock, and ugly conflicts surrounding coveted pills inevitably flared. Whenever such scandals erupted, burying the names of buyers demanded outrageous sums.

Of course, all of this came straight from his own lips, meaning none could gauge his actual profits.

“It has been far too long.”

Maek-ga greeted Na-sa-rin with deep courtesy. He was thoroughly acquainted with her reputation. Having crossed paths previously, it was solely because he recognized her stature that he had assembled such rare treasures and awaited this meeting.

“Indeed, ages have passed.”

“I have missed the melodic clarity of your voice, Elder.”

“Merely my voice?”

“Far from it. You carry yourself with even greater grace than before.”

He understood perfectly that compliments praising her maturity and sophistication brought her genuine joy. True enough, a bright smile spread across Na-sa-rin’s features—a reaction that made her look entirely like an innocent child.

“You seem somewhat haggard yourself.”

“Matters have kept me quite occupied of late.”

“What purpose does hoarding such wealth serve? Rather than parting with all your top-tier medicines, you ought to ingest a few.”

“I would heed your wisdom in any matter, save for that.”

“And why is that?”

“How could someone consume pure silver?”

“Spoken like a consummate hoarder.”

“Forcing such magnificent treasures into a base frame like mine would only make my constitution reject them.”

Maek-ga offered an easy, pleasant laugh.

Beneath the shadows of her broad veiled hat, Cheon-geuk’s expression remained stone-cold. An overly jovial merchant was invariably the most perilous. Lowering one’s guard before such pleasantries was the swiftest path to being swindled blind.

“Do you have the merchandise?”

“Everything is arranged. Given your request for the highest quality available, I wore through several pairs of shoes tracking these down.”

Chattering with self-satisfaction, Maek-ga set the first of three ornate cases upon the surface of the table.

He unlatched the lid with deliberate care.

“The Emperor Pill.”

It was a legendary panacea reputed to grant any martial artist twenty to twenty-five years of pure inner power upon ingestion.

“Name your price.”

“Four hundred and ninety thousand nyang.”

“That is steep.”

“As you well know, the Righteous-Evil Great War almost completely emptied the world of genuine elixirs. Most of what remains on the market barely amounts to common century-old Polygonum multiflorum, and even locating that proves difficult.”

A blend of truth and deceit. Countless medicines had indeed been swallowed up by the war, but traders like Maek-ga had hoarded significant reserves, banking on the post-war desperation to drive prices sky-high. This pill was drawn from those very stores.

“Grant a concession out of respect for me.”

“Very well. Purely as a favor to you, four hundred thousand nyang. That is my baseline acquisition cost.”

A blatant lie. He had secured it for a mere two hundred thousand.

Feigning losses before someone of Na-sa-rin’s caliber was brazen, yet a merchant’s greed always overpowered dread when profit was on the line. Maek-ga had bargained with every breed of warrior under heaven. Truthfully, dealing with martial artists was far simpler than outmaneuvering fellow merchants. Those who purchased such treasures were invariably apex masters or scions of prominent houses. Flatter their pride and status properly, and they could be bled dry. Naturally, one had to gauge boundaries carefully—overstep, and a blade would claim your neck.

Even so, he was offering Na-sa-rin a legitimate discount. With anyone else, his initial bid would have started at six hundred thousand.

“Display the remainder.”

“Right away.”

Maek-ga retrieved a marginally larger container from his packs.

“Prime Thousand-Year Polygonum multiflorum.”

A miraculous root capable of yielding between half a jiazi and a full jiazi of inner power. Flawless assimilation bestowed the full sixty years; standard absorption, roughly thirty.

“And the sum for this?”

“Eight hundred and forty thousand nyang.”

A hundred-year-old variant generally traded between ten and thirty thousand nyang depending on purity. One might assume tenfold age merely meant thirty times the cost, yet the trade of spiritual herbs followed no such simple arithmetic. The worth of elite medicines increased exponentially with each additional year of concentrated essence they contained. Had it been anyone other than Na-sa-rin, Maek-ga’s demand would have soared far higher.

“Is that your lowest offer?”

“Exclusively for you, seven hundred and fifty thousand nyang.”

“Is there another?”

“Naturally. As you mentioned that venomous varieties were acceptable, I procured this.”

Maek-ga unveiled the third container.

“The Seven-Colored Centipede Pill.”

The seven-colored centipede was a dread spirit beast, rivaling the Hundred-Legged Golden Thread Master in sheer toxicity. This deadly pellet was forged from its concentrated inner core, sought after almost exclusively by masters of lethal poisons.

Yet for any practitioner capable of enduring its venom, it too provided half to a full jiazi of inner power—a legendary essence.

“Six hundred and eighty thousand nyang.”

Indeed, inherently venomous medicines commanded lower prices than their pristine counterparts.

“A special concession for you: six hundred thousand. These three were assembled entirely on your account. Pass on them today, and medicines of this caliber will not reappear for years to come.”

At the very least, his claim of rarity held weight. Perhaps not years, but securing them in the present landscape was an exhausting ordeal.

“The total for all three?”

“One million seven hundred and fifty thousand nyang.”

Having completed the initial negotiation, Na-sa-rin shifted her gaze toward Cheon-geuk.

Maek-ga found the gesture curious.

‘Why glance at a mere attendant?’

Up to this point, he had simply assumed the veiled woman standing at her flank was nothing more than an escort.

The true surprise was only beginning.

Cheon-geuk broke her silence.

“Merchant Maek.”

Even in those two simple words, a suffocating pressure bore down upon him. Maek-ga instantly realized his miscalculation.

‘She is no ordinary guard.’

Cheon-geuk released the full, terrifying weight of her suppressed aura.

“All three for one million four hundred thousand nyang.”

“Out of the question!”

“Merchant Maek, that figure still leaves you with a handsome profit.”

“It does not! That is a net deficit. I already slashed the rate out of deference to the Elder. Anywhere else, these would command vastly superior prices.”

“I have heard that capable medicine brokers regularly claim three times their investment.”

“Baseless rumors!”

“Anticipating this meeting, I examined the records of medicinal dealers throughout the Central Plains. Among your peers, your margins sit near the peak.”

Maek-ga appealed toward Na-sa-rin.

“Elder, surely you can intercede.”

Seeking to use her as a shield? Cheon-geuk immediately turned that defense against him.

“A splendid suggestion. You are well aware of her capabilities; she can easily verify whether your claims hold truth.”

Maek-ga’s composure fractured. While triple profit might have been an exaggeration, his current margin remained exceedingly generous. One million four hundred thousand was nowhere near a loss. The scarcity of supply against soaring demand guaranteed an immense surplus regardless.

Na-sa-rin addressed Cheon-geuk quietly.

“Alliance Lord.”

“Yes.”

Maek-ga stiffened violently at the title. Na-sa-rin used that form of address for only a single living soul.

‘The Lord of the Sal-su Yeon-maeng!’

Na-sa-rin turned back to Cheon-geuk.

“Do you truly possess only one million four hundred thousand nyang?”

“I do.”

“In that case, take two.”

“I cannot. All three are necessary. I shall settle the terms with Merchant Maek myself.”

Such intervention was an undeniable breach of etiquette toward Na-sa-rin, who had arranged the exchange. Yet witnessing her leader act so entirely outside her normal character, Na-sa-rin deduced there must be a compelling motive and remained silent.

Cheon-geuk fixed her focus upon Maek-ga.

“Since I am pressing such an unreasonable demand, it is only proper that I reveal my countenance.”

As her fingers rose toward the edges of her veil, Maek-ga shut his eyes tight and shouted in panic,

“Halt!”

He was a shrewd survivor of the markets. Among all the faces in the jianghu one wished never to behold, the King of Assassins stood absolute. He knew full well she was brandishing mortal terror as leverage.

“Very well! One million four hundred thousand nyang!”

Having confirmed her identity as the dread Killer Queen, Maek-ga abandoned any hope of resistance.

“My gratitude, Merchant Maek. Pardon my discourtesy—the requirement for these medicines was exceedingly dire.”

Her refined apology marginally eased his frayed nerves.

“Think nothing of it.”

“Keep this in mind, however: the concession you made today may very well become the choice that preserves your entire livelihood down the road.”

Maek-ga was left bewildered by the cryptic remark. Should the Black Heaven Alliance emerge victorious and swallow the martial world, his accumulated wealth would inevitably be confiscated anyway.

The payment was transferred, and the three containers were safely secured within her robes.

“I shall await you outside.”

“I will follow shortly.”

Cheon-geuk turned and departed the hall.

Left alone, Na-sa-rin inquired of Maek-ga,

“Are you unharmed?”

“Occasional setbacks are simply part of commerce.”

While it was no loss at all, maintaining the facade of hardship was second nature to a merchant.

“Interacting with those from our profession can be perilous. Take comfort in knowing that today’s transaction will not leave you at a disadvantage.”

Her words carried a different nuance than Cheon-geuk’s veiled caution. Having placed the Alliance Lord in his debt, that connection might preserve his life in the future.

Maek-ga forced a chuckle.

“Do grace me with your patronage again.”

“Are you truly sincere?”

“Hardly. Please preserve your venerable health instead.”

“Hahaha, take care of yourself. Accumulating wealth is well and good, but do not neglect your own well-being.”

Exiting the manor, Na-sa-rin found Cheon-geuk waiting quietly.

“Alliance Lord.”

“Forgive me, Elder.”

“Do not concern yourself. There must have been good cause.”

“I am deeply grateful for your patience. To think I would resort to such aggressive behavior for someone else’s sake… yet I had no choice but to assist.”

Had it been for her own cultivation, securing two would have been plenty. Yet because it was for Baek So-cheon, she refused to settle for anything less than all three.

The trader’s own greed had certainly smoothed the way. When Na-sa-rin initially proposed contacting her associate Maek-ga, Cheon-geuk had quietly dispatched the Four Guardians to investigate his dealings. Out of respect for Na-sa-rin’s standing, she had withheld the truth, but the man was known to exploit desperate buyers far more egregiously than most. That knowledge had justified her hard bargaining. Thanks to Na-sa-rin’s presence, they had secured the lot well under open-market rates.

“It makes one wonder what manner of man could drive our Lord to act so entirely out of character.”

Na-sa-rin was genuinely curious about the identity of the person commanding such devotion.

Cheon-geuk answered after a measured pause.

“Baek So-cheon.”

“Baek So-cheon? The God of War belonging to the Murim Alliance?”

The name struck Na-sa-rin instantly.

“Yes. That very person.”

Na-sa-rin’s expression darkened instantly. It was Baek So-cheon who had slain the former Killer King.

“I apologize for withholding this until now, Elder.”

Cheon-geuk lowered her head in a profound bow.

Na-sa-rin had faithfully served the previous Killer King, just as she had the one before him. Presenting life-saving elixirs to the man who ended his life was, by all rights, an intolerable betrayal.

After quietly studying Cheon-geuk for several moments, Na-sa-rin spoke with gentle calm.

“This old woman reaches the age of eighty-four this year. I have few seasons remaining to offer my service to our Alliance Lord. What is done belongs to the past—I place my faith in your judgment.”

Her eighty-four years had brought not stubborn bitterness, but a profound rationality steeped in deep affection for Cheon-geuk.

Cheon-geuk bowed once more, overflowing with gratitude.

“Thank you, Elder.”

“I would see him with my own eyes, just once.”

“Would you like me to arrange an introduction?”

Cheon-geuk found herself wondering how Baek So-cheon would appear through the eyes of someone like Na-sa-rin.

“Would that be permissible?”

“Naturally. Accompany me.”

Together, they climbed into the waiting carriage.

Their wheels turned toward Wuhuan, where the central fortress of the Murim Alliance stood.