Chapter 60
by Heavenly CatChapter 60: Other People's Celebrations Are Not Always Joyful (1)
In Nam-hak's eyes as he regarded Cho Yeon-woon, there glimmered a trace of contempt. Nam-hak glanced at the wine bottles scattered around Cho Yeon-woon.
"You remain the same. The one thing that never changes."
"If it changed easily, I would not be human."
"I pray you become a man worthy of the Hundred Battles Victory Banner, Yeon-woon."
"What? Does the Hundred Battles Victory Banner catch your eye, Nam-hak?"
"Do not speak so carelessly with that open mouth of yours."
Nam-hak's gaze turned cold.
His blade-like eyes caused everyone nearby to hold their breath.
Suddenly the center of attention, Cho Yeon-woon merely shrugged. He showed no sign of being intimidated by Nam-hak's gaze.
"The Drunken Cloud Dragon, Cho Yeon-woon?"
"Is he truly the great romantic of the Murim?"
The crowd began to whisper.
Drunken Cloud Dragon—a dragon that wanders through the clouds while drunk.
That was Cho Yeon-woon's epithet.
Though he did not number among the Nine Martial Dragons, in some respects Cho Yeon-woon was even more famous than they were.
Decades ago, when the Demonic Cult had risen in power, the Murim had crumbled helplessly before their relentless onslaught. Countless sects were destroyed, and an immense number of martial artists perished.
While most sects wandered in confusion, a few had risen to stand against the tide.
The Mount Hua Sect, one of the Nine Great Sects, had taken the vanguard and in doing so had suffered the greatest losses.
At that time, the Mount Hua Sect had wagered not only the fate of their sect but the destiny of the entire Murim against the Demonic Cult's onslaught. Thanks to them, the Murim was able to catch its breath, and there emerged the leeway to launch the Righteous Alliance, a coalition of countless sects.
The Righteous Alliance soon launched a great counterattack against the Demonic Cult. At the forefront of that battle, a man had distinguished himself with extraordinary valor.
A vagrant who had attained the ultimate truth of the saber.
He was brave.
Countless masters of the Demonic Cult fell to his blade. No matter what wound he sustained, he never retreated, advancing with an indomitable will.
Those who were moved by his courage gathered around him.
And so, a new sect was born with him at its center.
The sect of vagrants who had won a hundred battles in a hundred fights. Hence its name: the Hundred Battles Sect.
The great martial artist who led the Hundred Battles Sect was Jang Il-san.
The people gave him the epithet Demon-Slaying Divine Saber and praised his name. And to commemorate his great martial achievements, they crafted a banner and presented it to him.
The Hundred Battles Victory Banner.
It was a tribute from the righteous fighters of the Murim, honoring Jang Il-san and the Hundred Battles Sect for their hundred victories in a hundred battles.
The Hundred Battles Victory Banner was not merely a symbol of the Hundred Battles Sect's majesty. It embodied the pride of the righteous warriors who had triumphed over the Demonic Cult.
Cho Yeon-woon was a disciple of that Hundred Battles Sect. Not merely a disciple, but the sole direct disciple of Jang Il-san, the sect's master.
The Murim placed great expectations upon Cho Yeon-woon. His Master was a hero of the war against the Demonic Cult, and they expected the disciple to grow into an equally great hero.
But Cho Yeon-woon cruelly shattered those expectations of the righteous fighters and lived his life drunk. Hence the epithet: Drunken Cloud Dragon.
A dragon, yes, but a drunken one that did not qualify for the Nine Martial Dragons.
Some even called him the greatest romantic of the Murim.
Drunken Cloud Dragon, the greatest romantic of the Murim. But neither epithet was particularly glorious. If anything, they carried more mockery than praise.
Nam-hak's gaze as he regarded Cho Yeon-woon was no different. He made no effort to conceal his contempt.
"What brings you here? This is quite far from the Hundred Battles Sect."
"Where there is wine, could I be absent? I was passing through these parts and happened to hear that a grand celebration was being held at the Red Cliff Manor."
"If you came to drink, then drink quietly and leave. Do not cause trouble for no reason."
"What trouble would I cause?"
"Surely you are not asking because you do not know?"
"And you—since you have come to a celebration, why not smile a little? There is no need to put on that intimidating look all the time."
"I have warned you, Yeon-woon."
"I know! I have already committed it firmly to memory, so there is no need to repeat yourself. It hurts my ears."
Cho Yeon-woon dug at his ear with his little finger. At his attitude, Nam-hak's brow shot upward.
Cho Yeon-woon, seemingly indifferent, raised his cup once more and addressed Dam Ho.
"Sorry for the noise, friend."
Dam Ho regarded Cho Yeon-woon in silence. Cho Yeon-woon winked at him.
Only then did Nam-hak's gaze turn to Dam Ho. But Dam Ho was not looking at him. Nam-hak's jaw muscles twitched. But to say anything more would be beneath his dignity.
Nam-hak turned around so violently that he stirred the wind.
"Take care."
Cho Yeon-woon's voice came from behind him. But Nam-hak did not look back.
The disciples of the Tongsu Sect followed in Nam-hak's wake.
Cho Yeon-woon drained his cup and muttered.
"Tch! What an unlucky fellow. He thinks everyone fears him just because he puts on a fierce look. A blockhead."
He sensed the stares of those around him. It seemed he would not be able to drink in peace after all.
"Going to get scolded by my Master again? That man's nagging lasts half a day, if people only knew. Ha ha ha!"
He muttered to himself and giggled. In some ways, he seemed utterly free of care.
In stark contrast to Cho Yeon-woon, who chattered ceaselessly to himself, Dam Ho did not utter a single word. The crowd regarded the two with bemused eyes.
"Your friend is quite remarkable. Was he always this quiet?"
"Were we ever friends?"
"Why? Is it awkward?"
Dam Ho did not reply. An ordinary person might have been wounded by Dam Ho's response, but Cho Yeon-woon was no ordinary person.
"Well, what does it matter? If it is truly awkward, we can simply become friends from this moment on."
"…"
"I mean it. So let us be friends."
Cho Yeon-woon even seized Dam Ho's hand and pleaded. The more he did so, the deeper Dam Ho's gaze sank.
'Friends?'
In over thirty years of life, not a single person had ever addressed him with such a word.
Those of his generation who saw his lame leg had always reacted in one of two ways.
Contempt, or pity.
It was the same with others as well.
They had no interest in who Dam Ho was as a person. They merely judged him by the disability that showed on the surface.
Those of the Mount Hua Sect, with whom he had been closest, were no different. Nor were the martial artists from other sects whom he had joined when investigating the Demonic Cult.
No one had ever approached him as a friend on equal footing.
Dam Ho looked straight into Cho Yeon-woon's eyes. Cho Yeon-woon did not avert his gaze, meeting Dam Ho's stare head-on.
"Is it pity?"
"Pity? Ah, the leg?"
Cho Yeon-woon's gaze fell to Dam Ho's leg.
For a brief instant, Cho Yeon-woon had seen that Dam Ho limped. For a martial artist, it was a fatal weakness. But Cho Yeon-woon answered as though it were nothing.
"What about it?"
"Is it not embarrassing?"
"Everyone carries some disability as they live. So what if the leg is a little off? There are plenty of people with disabilities of the heart."
Cho Yeon-woon smiled.
There was not a trace of pretense in his smile.
***
Lee Sin-pung's residence was situated at the deepest recess of the Red Cliff Manor. Surrounded by meticulously tended gardens, it was a natural fortress into which no uninvincible soul could set foot.
A barrier formation was deployed around the gardens, and at the sole entrance, elite martial artists of the Red Cliff Manor stood watch in rotating shifts.
Lee Sin-pung had not emerged from his residence for some time. It was so difficult to even glimpse his face that even members of the Red Cliff Manor's own household found it nearly impossible.
Unless one was among his inner circle, one could not see Lee Sin-pung's face. For newly arrived martial artists, there were those who did not even know what he looked like.
So deep was his reclusion that his epithet was the Hidden Forest Tiger.
A great tiger hidden in the forest—that was Lee Sin-pung.
The reclusive Lee Sin-pung had begun to show himself only a few days prior. Despite his reclusive nature, he could not indefinitely ignore those who had come to celebrate his sixtieth birthday.
In the end, Lee Sin-pung had left his quarters and entered the main hall. And now, the main hall's front gates stood wide open, with countless people holding rare and exotic gifts, waiting for the chance to meet him.
Among them were Mun Su-gyeong and Jwa Sang-cheon of the Hyunhyeon Sect. In their hands they held the precious gift sent by their Master, Mun Se-gang.
Though they had announced themselves as coming from the Hyunhyeon Sect, they were required to stand in line and wait their turn like everyone else.
For them, it was a humiliation difficult to bear. But conversely, it meant that their sect, the Hyunhyeon Sect, was of no particular consequence—at least compared to the other sects that had gathered here today.
That was the reality of it.
"Damn it!"
Jwa Sang-cheon muttered under his breath. Mun Su-gyeong shot him a glare.
"Senior Brother."
"I know. But it still makes me angry."
"You must endure it. Compared to the Red Cliff Manor, our Hyunhyeon Sect is truly insignificant."
"Hmph!"
Jwa Sang-cheon snorted when—
From behind, the crowd suddenly began to buzz.
"It is martial artists from the Tongsu Sect."
"It is the Thunder Martial Hero, Nam-hak."
Mun Su-gyeong and Jwa Sang-cheon's gazes naturally turned behind them. They could see over a dozen martial artists parting the crowd as they approached.
At the forefront, a man radiating an overwhelming presence strode forward. It was none other than Nam-hak of the Tongsu Sect.
His arrival was enough to stir the martial artists who had gathered to meet Lee Sin-pung.
Though many had come to see Lee Sin-pung, none among them possessed the presence or background that Nam-hak commanded.
They were crushed by the overwhelming aura Nam-hak emanated and did not dare open their mouths. The same was true for Mun Su-gyeong and Jwa Sang-cheon.
Jwa Sang-cheon gritted his teeth and glared at Nam-hak. But Nam-hak did not so much as glance at Jwa Sang-cheon. Or rather, he did not even register his existence.
To Nam-hak, Jwa Sang-cheon was of no more consequence than that.
At that moment, someone emerged from within the main hall.
A middle-aged man with a goatee, appearing to be in his early to mid-fifties.
"It is Chief Steward Gu."
The crowd murmured at the sight of the middle-aged man.
The man's name was Gu Jung-myeong, the Chief Steward of the Red Cliff Manor and the most trusted confidant of Lee Sin-pung.
Though many people waited here, there had not been a single instance of Gu Jung-myeong coming out to greet them personally. At least not today.
The rarely-seen Gu Jung-myeong had come out in person. It spoke volumes about just how important a figure Nam-hak was.
"Of course. He is a martial artist raised with the full effort of the Tongsu Sect, one of the Nine Great Sects."
"No matter how formidable the Red Cliff Manor, they cannot disregard the Tongsu Sect."
Whether Gu Jung-myeong did not hear the crowd's murmurs or simply chose to ignore them, the smile on his face did not waver.
"A distinguished guest has arrived. Young Hero Nam-hak. I am Gu Jung-myeong, Chief Steward of the Red Cliff Manor. I have come by the Master's order to welcome you."
"A pleasure to meet you, Chief Steward Gu. I am Nam-hak of the Tongsu Sect."
Nam-hak offered a courteous cupped-fist salute.
The Red Cliff Manor was one of the two great powers that divided Gansu Province with the Tongsu Sect. Its Chief Steward was the second most powerful figure, equivalent to an elder of the Tongsu Sect. He deserved to be treated accordingly.
"You are as imposing as they say. The Master awaits you. We are truly honored to welcome a guest from the Tongsu Sect."
"I too am honored to meet the distinguished Manor Master. My Master asked me to convey his congratulations on the Manor Master's birthday."
"Oh! What greater joy could there be. Please, come inside. Young Hero Nam-hak."
Gu Jung-myeong took Nam-hak by the hand and led him in. His manner could not have been more warm and welcoming.
Everyone watched Nam-hak with envious expressions. Among them were Mun Su-gyeong and Jwa Sang-cheon.
Jwa Sang-cheon bit his lip.
'What is a Nine Martial Dragons worth? Just you wait. Sooner or later, my fame will surpass the Nine Martial Dragons.'
Thick veins bulged on the backs of his fists.
That day, Lee Sin-pung and Nam-hak conversed for quite some time. But what they discussed remained unknown.

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