Chapter 110

Chapter 110: Uninvited Guests Crash the Banquet (1)

Normally, many people came and went through the Yoyang Sword Gate. But today, far more people than usual had gathered within its walls.

They were martial artists dispatched by the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Families.

Originally, the meeting had been planned to take place at the Heaven's Best Pavilion. But given the gravity of the situation, they had decided to gather at the Yoyang Sword Gate on short notice.

Thanks to this, it was the martial artists of the Yoyang Sword Gate who found themselves busied. They had been thrust into the role of errand runners, bustling to and fro.

Though the Yoyang Sword Gate was one of the Five Great Sects of Hunan, it could not compare to today's guests. The martial artists of the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Families radiated an intense aura that overwhelmed them, leaving them cowed.

Moreover, the mood was far from normal. The martial artists who had come to the Yoyang Sword Gate were on edge, and a fierce energy emanated from their bodies.

It did not even look easy to approach them for conversation. In the end, the Yoyang Sword Gate's warriors could only play the part of hosts, watching the guests' moods.

'Tch! So what if they're from the Nine Great Sects?'

'So what if the Five Great Families think they're all that?'

They cursed inwardly a hundred, a thousand times, but they did not let a word escape their lips.

In the largest hall of the Yoyang Sword Gate, around thirty people had gathered.

Namgung Chang and Namgung-su, Oh Gun-gi and Hae So-wol, Sage Hyeon-mu and Myeong-gyeong—the heads dispatched by each sect had taken their respective seats.

On one side sat Cho Yeon-woon, representing the White Banner Association. He had been secretly yawning, and tears had gathered in the corners of his eyes.

'Boring.'

Since the senior figures had not yet opened their mouths, Cho Yeon-woon could only keep his shut.

Cho Yeon-woon gazed at the opposite side, wishing for this time to pass as quickly as possible.

His gaze fell upon Sa-ma Gyeong-won, the master of the Yoyang Sword Gate, Eun Il-myeong, the master of the Silver Fortress, and Sim Woo-won, the master of the Righteous Immortal Gate, each of whom had also taken a seat.

Beside Eun Il-myeong sat Eun So-cheong. She was too young to attend such a gathering, but Eun Il-myeong had brought her along specifically to introduce her to the people present.

Cho Yeon-woon and Eun So-cheong's eyes met.

'Tch!'

Cho Yeon-woon clicked his tongue.

He understood Eun Il-myeong's intentions, but Eun So-cheong was still too young. She needed many more years before she could endure the gravity of such a gathering.

—Bear with it a little longer. When the opportunity arises, we'll slip out together.

Cho Yeon-woon sent a telepathic transmission to Eun So-cheong. She gave a subtle nod, barely perceptible.

Cho Yeon-woon's gaze shifted to Sa-ma Gyeong-won.

Sa-ma Gyeong-won was the master of the Yoyang Sword Gate. But given the nature of this gathering, he had not only yielded the main hall but was also relegated to the lowest seat.

Though he was displeased, Sa-ma Gyeong-won did not voice his complaints. The same was true for Eun Il-myeong and Sim Woo-won.

The establishment of the Martial Alliance in Hunan Province was an unstoppable tide.

'To secure one's position before the Martial Alliance is formed, and to do so after—there is a heaven and earth difference.'

'The gap between those who firmly establish their stake in the Martial Alliance now and those who do not will only widen over time, eventually becoming impossible to bridge.'

That was their judgment: now was the time to seize the opportunity. That was why they endured the humiliation and took the lowest seats.

Because the council had been convened in such haste, some sects had not yet arrived. Among the Nine Great Sects, the Kunlun Sect, the Wudang Sect, and the Shaolin Temple had not yet arrived. Among the Five Great Families, the Jinju Eon Family and the Northern Peng Family had not yet arrived.

Kunlun, Shaolin, and the Jinju Eon Family had not arrived due to the long distances involved. The Northern Peng Family had been annihilated on the way. And the Wudang Sect's warriors were still en route.

Though many had gathered, not one among them spoke rashly. They were keenly aware of the gravity of the situation.

Honestly, until they had arrived here, a considerable number of them had been skeptical about establishing the Martial Alliance.

The terror carried by the word 'Demonic Cult' was immense, but its substance had not yet been confirmed.

Creating the Martial Alliance was by no means an easy task. Even if the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Families were to serve as its mainstay, it would inevitably require the combined strength of the entire Murim.

Naturally, establishing the Martial Alliance would demand enormous funding and manpower, and maintaining it would require even greater sums.

No matter how much wealth the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Families had accumulated, bearing such a financial burden was far from easy.

That was why people had initially believed that confirming the Demonic Cult's existence was the top priority, comforting themselves that establishing the Martial Alliance could wait until later.

But the situation had changed.

The Northern Peng Family's forces had been annihilated, and the Wudang Sect had suffered great damage. The word 'Demonic Cult' was no longer someone else's problem.

"Hmm!"

Someone let out a low, muffled sound, as though the silence in the hall was suffocating. Taking that as a signal, others began to speak in succession.

"Phew! The Demonic Cult. What a bolt from the blue."

"We cannot be certain yet. Until Sage Cheong-heo of the Wudang Sect arrives, we cannot be sure."

The speakers were Elder Jin Do-gyeong of the Zhongnan Sect and Elder Yu Jin-sang of the Jomchang Sect. They had come here as the chief negotiators representing their respective sects.

From the start of their conversation, the hall erupted into the clamor of a country market. People began voicing their thoughts one after another, raising their voices.

Oh Gun-gi looked at Namgung Chang.

Namgung Chang had maintained his silence thus far. His mind was extremely cluttered, and he had not yet sorted through it all.

He was trying to remain silent for as long as possible, attempting to assess the situation with cool detachment.

It was then.

"Sage Cheong-heo of the Wudang Sect has arrived!"

From outside, a voice of a Yoyang Sword Gate warrior rang out.

Instantly, the hall fell silent as though by magic.

The door opened, and an elderly Taoist in robes adorned with the Eight Trigrams symbol strode in.

Beneath the Taoist cap on his head, his piercing gaze and his face, dyed the deep red of a jujube, were striking.

This was none other than Sage Cheong-heo of the Wudang Sect.

At his appearance, those seated rose to their feet one after another.

"Sage Cheong-heo. It has been too long."

"Welcome, Sage Cheong-heo."

The respect with which they treated Sage Cheong-heo was only to be expected.

He was an elder of the Wudang Sect, one of the two pillars of the Murim alongside the Shaolin Temple, and was even known as the Greatest Swordsman of Hubei.

The weight of his name surpassed everyone present.

"This old Taoist, Cheong-heo, greets you all. I apologize for my tardiness."

"Not at all. We heard you were attacked. It is a relief to see you safe."

At Namgung Chang's calm response, Sage Cheong-heo smiled.

"Thank you, Elder Namgung."

"Please, take your seat. We have much we wish to discuss."

"I, too, have much to say."

Sage Cheong-heo answered and took an empty seat.

Now that all had gathered in one place, an environment had finally been created for a proper discussion.

Elder Yu Jin-sang of the Jomchang Sect, a man of impatient temperament, asked.

"Were you truly attacked by the Demonic Cult, Sage Cheong-heo?"

But no one tried to stop him. They were just as curious.

Sage Cheong-heo briefly surveyed the faces of everyone gathered in the hall. He saw the faint light of fear lingering in their eyes.

Most of the people here could be considered distinguished figures of the Murim. And yet these men were trembling at the mere word 'Demonic Cult.'

'Phew!'

Sage Cheong-heo secretly sighed.

He understood their feelings, but to see them already cowed as though they had not even fought was disheartening.

But he could not reveal his true feelings, so he composed his expression and spoke.

"On the road here, we were attacked by enemies of unknown identity. But whether they are truly members of the Demonic Cult has not yet been confirmed."

"Why is that?"

Doubt surfaced on the faces of those present.

"The attackers were undeniably strong. Two of our first-generation disciples and five of our second-generation disciples sustained serious injuries, which should speak for itself. But I cannot yet confirm whether their martial arts truly belong to the Demonic Cult."

Sage Cheong-heo recalled the moment of the ambush by the masked attackers.

There had been three masked figures who attacked the Wudang Sect's martial artists. The one who appeared to be their leader was terrifyingly powerful.

While the leader had engaged Sage Cheong-heo, the other masked figures had attacked the Wudang Sect's disciples.

Fortunately, the disciples had joined forces to repel the assault, but they had sustained considerable damage.

Sage Cheong-heo himself had sustained nontrivial internal injuries in his battle with the leader. But he had managed to drive them off.

When the tide turned against them, the masked figures had fled, and Sage Cheong-heo had managed to gather the Wudang Sect's warriors and bring them here.

Sage Cheong-heo's gaze turned to Sage Hyeon-mu of the Mount Hua Sect.

"Might I ask whether Sage Hyeon-so of your sect has also come?"

"Hm?"

"With his keen eye as a scholar, he would surely be able to identify the Demonic Cult's martial arts. Has he come?"

"Sage Hyeon… so has not come. In recent years, even within our sect, very few have seen him."

"How unfortunate!"

Sage Cheong-heo closed his eyes tightly.

'So it really is because of the loss of his disciple?'

The memories of that day were still vivid.

Everyone had turned their back on him.

He too had turned his back on him.

It had been an unavoidable decision in order to save his own disciple, Yeon So-ha, but that did not make his heart any lighter.

It had been even worse after seeing Sage Hyeon-so's tears. That was why he had been unable to contact him.

Until he had come here, he had harbored a faint hope that he might see Sage Hyeon-so.

But Sage Hyeon-so had not come.

If even within the Mount Hua Sect, almost no one had seen Sage Hyeon-so, then the depth of his sense of loss was beyond imagining.

"Phew!"

Just as Sage Cheong-heo sighed once more, a man with bandages wrapped around his chest burst through the door.

He was none other than Peng Gwan-yeong, the sole survivor of the Northern Peng Family.

Peng Gwan-yeong wailed.

"They are without question remnants of the Demonic Cult!"

"Young Master Peng…"

"Who else but the Demonic Cult could slaughter the martial artists of the Northern Peng Family like rotten straw?!"

Peng Gwan-yeong's anguished cry shook the hearts of all present.

The fury of a man who had lost everything in the blink of an eye was truly immense. His bloodshot eyes swept slowly across every person gathered in the hall.

"Why did the Demonic Cult attack the Peng Family? To prevent the formation of the Martial Alliance!"

"Young Master Peng, please calm yourself."

"Grandmaster Namgung! You must not delay the formation of the Martial Alliance. A decision must be made here and now!"

"I am aware. But please calm yourself for a moment, Young Master Peng."

Namgung Chang tried to pacify Peng Gwan-yeong. But the more he tried, the louder Peng Gwan-yeong's voice grew.

"Do you think it will end with the Peng Family? They will target the entire Murim! Just as they did before! The Martial Alliance must be formed. Only then can we stand against them!"

From within the hall, the sound of Peng Gwan-yeong's voice reached Han So-yu, and she furrowed her brow slightly.

Peng Gwan-yeong's voice, wrung from his very heart, shook even hers.

She believed that the formation of the Martial Alliance was now only a matter of time.

The Northern Peng Family's forces had been annihilated. Peng Gwan-yeong was declaring with certainty that the culprits were the Demonic Cult.

The people in the hall likely agreed with him in their hearts as well.

Of course, there remained a long and arduous road before the Martial Alliance could actually be formed.

Each sect's stake, the scale of contributions, and countless other procedures and consultations. There was still much to be done.

It was then that Won Yul approached her.

"Sister, aren't you going in?"

"It's fine. The conclusion is obvious. I don't need to go in to confirm it."

"But still…"

"I'm more comfortable out here."

"I understand."

When Han So-yu spoke so firmly, Won Yul could not press further.

They were in the training grounds outside the main hall.

The training grounds were filled not only with them but with a considerable number of martial artists from the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Families.

Those who knew each other exchanged warm greetings, but most of the people stood awkwardly, staring at one another like a cow watching a chicken.

'Once the Martial Alliance is formed, these people will be the first to join.'

While Han So-yu was lost in thought—

Boom!

"Argh!"

"An-attack!"

Suddenly, a thunderous sound erupted from the main gate of the Yoyang Sword Gate, and screams rang out.

"What?"

Han So-yu's expression changed in an instant.

Boom!

In that instant, with a thunderous sound, the walls surrounding the main hall crumbled.

Swoosh!

Following it, a powerful wave of energy surged in like a tidal wave.

"What is this?"

Han So-yu instinctively crossed her arms to shield her face and chest.

Boom!

"Ugh!"

With a stifled groan, Han So-yu's body was pushed backward. Her arms swelled up in an instant.

"Not bad."

In that instant, with a low voice, someone emerged from behind the wall.

The man in the golden mask—the Demon Suppressor.

Three masked figures followed behind the Demon Suppressor.