“Clan Lord. A letter has arrived from the temporary Alliance of the Martial World.”

“Bring it here.”

Yeon Wi’s eyes wavered as he unfolded the letter.

Lee Baekhyeon, puzzled, asked,

“What is it...?”

“It’s a letter from the Abbot of Shaolin.”

“......!”

“He’s asking that we hold a council early next year, at New Year, to decide whether to found the Alliance of the Martial World. He proposes we reach a decision within three days.”

Yeon Wi let out a sigh.

The Alliance of the Martial World, huh.

The Alliance of the Martial World needed to be founded. No one knew what sort of calamity might befall the future, so the orthodox martial world required both a place and a status that could serve as its focal point.

But for the moment, he felt it was unnecessary. Once the Alliance was founded, its upkeep costs would jump three or fourfold, and when that happened, the flow of money across the Central Plains would change.

Of course, the Yeon Clan would be fine. They brought in an unbelievable amount of money every month, and spent more than half of it to stabilize the people’s livelihoods. Tightening their belt a little more wouldn’t change much.

The problem was the small sects.

As if the orthodox world were pure as snow. To raise funds, they would overreach; and when they did, the ones who would suffer in the end would be the common folk.

And yet...

He recalled the words of his eldest son, Yeon Hojeong.

“I also believe this is the time when you, Father, should fully spread the wings you’ve never unfolded until now.”

“The Alliance Leader’s seat must be left empty for the one who deserves it. But the Alliance Leader will ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) need men of purpose to seize the world at his side.”

Yeon Wi had seriously pondered his son’s words.

Hojeong wouldn’t say that for no reason.

He acknowledged his eldest son as a fully grown adult in his own right.

Before being his child, Yeon Hojeong was, as a perceptive man of the martial world, someone who had more than enough qualities worth learning from.

He can’t possibly be unaware of the aftershocks that will follow the founding of the Alliance. And yet he told me to cast a vote in favor. That means he’s seen something I have not.

What could that be?

Hojeong.

He pictured Yeon Hojeong’s face from that time.

Clear, deep eyes. Yet his son had looked quite different from usual then. He’d seemed urgent, burning with a will to see his intent carried through.

Just what did you see?

He felt stifled.

His son had asked that he leave such matters to him, but now that it had arrived as a reality, the worries were no small thing.

In the midst of his turmoil, his eldest son’s words surfaced again in Yeon Wi’s mind.

“Whenever you find things hard, don’t try to shoulder it alone. Call for me.”

A wry smile tugged at Yeon Wi’s lips.

I’m the one who said I’d shelter him... and I’m already leaning on my child.

There was no helping it.

His son was right. They said even a sheet of paper is easier to lift together. With a son that capable, there was no need for him to carry everything alone.

In that moment, Yeon Wi frowned.

And that brat still hasn’t sent a letter.

It wasn’t the sort of thing to make him angry. There was no reason to be angry.

He was simply worried. Had anything happened, out there in a foreign province? Was he eating regularly?

It should be about time for him to return.

Just then, voices rose in a clamor outside the Clan Lord’s study window.

Yeon Wi’s eyes flashed.

“C-Clan Lord! The First Young Master has returned! But...!”

WHISH!

Yeon Wi hurriedly flung open the study door and stepped outside.

In the span of a heartbeat he crossed the inner court and reached the outer court—and there, he finally saw Yeon Hojeong.

“...?!”

Yeon Wi’s expression changed completely.

“I’ve returned, Father.”

“What is that state you’re in?”

Yeon Hojeong’s body was covered in blood. From the scabs crusted over his many wounds, they looked several days old.

“First, I’d like this one confined in the dungeon.”

THUD!

The man who hit the ground looked to be a middle-aged fellow in his forties.

Yeon Wi’s gaze went cold.

“What are you all standing around for? Get him into the dungeon at once.”

“Yes, sir!”

The warriors rushed over and dragged off the unconscious Meng Yi.

“What happened?”

“It’s a bit of a long story.”

Yeon Hojeong looked at Mookbi.

“How’s your stamina?”

“I’m fine. You’re the problem, Young Master Yeon.”

Yeon Wi shook his head.

“This isn’t the time for that. We should go to the medical wing. No—wait here, I’ll summon a physician.”

Yeon Hojeong smiled.

“I’m grateful if you bring a physician, but I’m not seriously injured. Don’t worry too much.”

“Hah...”

Even the Judge’s Sword of the world, Yeon Wi, found it hard to keep his composure when faced with his son hurt. He had to admit this was the most rattled he’d been in recent days.

“I’ll wash and change first. Mookbi.”

“Yes?”

“Explain things to Father.”

“Ah, yes!”

This wasn’t something she could shy away from.

Mookbi bowed her head to Yeon Wi.

While Yeon Wi watched his son’s retreating back, he gently beckoned to Mookbi.

“Let’s go to the Clan Lord’s room.”

Half a shichen later.

When Yeon Hojeong entered the Clan Lord’s room, he ignored the way Mookbi’s face lit up at the sight of him.

“You’re here.”

“Yes.”

“How are your wounds? Your qi-flow is unstable and your pale face suggests internal injury.”

“Ah, I burned far too much internal force rushing back. I’m not otherwise hurt, so please don’t worry.”

“I see...”

Yeon Wi nodded.

“I’ve heard the situation from Bia. The killers launched a surprise attack?”

“Yes.”

A chill flickered through Yeon Wi’s eyes.

“Surely it wasn’t the Mo Yong Clan?”

Yeon Hojeong shook his head.

“I can’t say for certain. Whenever I tried to get anything out of the killers, they came at us like they meant to die, so I had no choice but to wipe them out.”

“Then the one locked in the dungeon is...?”

A faint smile touched Yeon Hojeong’s lips.

“On the way back, I tried various forms of pressure on him, but his mouth’s unusually tight.”

“......”

“That’s not training. It’s his nature. He won’t talk easily. Even so, it didn’t feel right to just leave him, so I brought him back.”

“Good grief...”

“I rushed home in case there might be another who’s after me.”

“You did well. A sound decision.”

His son’s ability to read the situation truly was exceptional. Setting aside the hardship he’d gone through, it was admirable that he’d made such a swift judgment in the middle of a blood-splattered, life-or-death battle.

“What do you think?”

“I can’t be sure, but the likeliest is Mo Yonggun.”

Yeon Hojeong very deliberately had not said “Mo Yong Clan”—he’d said “Mo Yonggun.”

ZZZZZT.

Killing intent finally seeped from Yeon Wi’s body.

“That man, to think he actually...”

Mookbi’s face went pale.

Yeon Wi’s killing intent wasn’t violent. It was quiet and cold. That eerie aura seemed as though it might naturally seep into one’s body and shred the heart meridians apart.

Yeon Hojeong cleared his throat.

“Father.”

“Hm? Ah...”

Yeon Wi extinguished his killing intent at once and sighed.

“Bia, forgive me.”

“N-no, Father.”

“You must have had a hard time as well, and I’ve shown you an ugly side of myself. You’ve truly suffered.”

Mookbi shook her head.

“I didn’t do anything. Young Master Yeon did everything.”

Yeon Hojeong let out a short laugh.

“Don’t talk nonsense. If not for that merciless archery of yours, I would’ve been in real trouble. I owe you my life.”

“N-no, that’s not true. Really.”

“Why don’t you go rest for now? You must be exhausted.”

Mookbi snuck a glance at Yeon Wi.

Yeon Wi nodded.

“Yes, I’ve kept you too long. Go and rest.”

“Ah, then... I’ll do that.”

As Mookbi rose awkwardly to her feet, Yeon Wi spoke again.

“Bia.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Thank you, once more.”

Mookbi smiled. She still found Yeon Wi intimidating, but she was grateful that someone like him would thank her so earnestly.

“It’s nothing, Father. Then I’ll go ahead.”

“All right.”

Once Mookbi left, Yeon Hojeong took a seat.

Yeon Wi’s eyes turned sharp again.

“So you think the odds are high it was Mo Yonggun?”

From the mouth of Yeon Wi, who prized propriety and form of address, the words were not “Lord of the Mo Yong Clan,” but the plain name, Mo Yonggun. That alone showed how angry he was.

“As I said, we can’t be certain. Threats like this can be made anytime, anywhere. The odds point to Mo Yonggun, but we mustn’t jump to conclusions.”

“......”

“The real issue is the killers. They were highly trained assassins. That suggests a group powerful enough in the dark-path martial world to train top-flight killers and use them without hesitation as mere tools.”

Yeon Wi’s eyes widened.

Yeon Hojeong stroked his chin, deep in thought.

“Judging from the killers’ movements and their distinctive killing techniques, there was a heavy mix of southern and northern methods. That would suggest an assassination organization active in Hubei, where there’s a lot of waterways, but...”

Mid-sentence, Yeon Hojeong flinched for a moment. His father’s gaze on him felt strangely pointed.

Yeon Hojeong hurried on.

“In any case, for now it’ll be hard to identify the organization they belong to. Even with help from the Beggars’ Union, it would be difficult.”

“...How is it you know so much about them?”

Yeon Hojeong smiled.

“I’ve just picked up a lot of odds and ends.”

Most of those who had made a name for themselves in the dark-path martial world possessed a deep knowledge of assassins.

All the more so for Yeon Hojeong, who had reigned at the very peak of the dark path as the Dark Emperor. He had personally adopted their characteristics and methods to establish separate organizations under the Black Emperor’s Citadel.

“That said, if they were after the Yeon Clan rather than me personally, the problem is much bigger.”

“What?”

“If it’s someone who hates me, that’s one thing. But if it’s someone who hates the Yeon Clan, that’s another matter. I wanted to bring Jipyeong back with me, but I didn’t want the killers’ trail leading that way, so I came back as fast as I could.”

“Then?”

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes gleamed.

“Yes. We need to send people there. If only to prepare for a possible attack.”

He’d already attached several squads of the Flying Hawk Squad to Yeon Jipyeong. But that might not be enough.

“And I can’t be the one to go. If I’m the only target, bringing Jipyeong into it would be the worst possible outcome.”

“You’re right.”

“Given the situation, we should unseal the Flying Hawk Captain. If not, it might be better to unleash the Sky-Flying Swordsmen.”

The Sky-Flying Swordsmen were peak-level masters owned by the Yeon Clan. Sword fiends who lived about ten li away from the Yeon family’s main estate, they had been given special access to the Yeon Clan’s true secret arts.

“That could be done, but the Sky-Flying Swordsmen are currently passing a major threshold. There’s no need to disturb them at such a crucial moment.”

“But Father—”

“I’ll go myself.”

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes went round.

“You will?”

“There’s no need to take a crowd. Better I go alone.”

Among the Clan Lords of the Six Great Clans, Yeon Wi’s martial skill was at the very top. He could easily smash most assassin organizations, and even if he chose not to fight, he could shake them off in the blink of an eye.

“Then the clan...”

“You’ll take charge.”

“Sir?”

Rising from his seat, Yeon Wi took the longsword from the wall and fastened it at his belt.

“When your father is away, you are the head. Until I return, you will guard the main house.”

Yeon Wi turned.

“I’ll be back within three days.”

He kept his word.

With Yeon Jipyeong on his back, Yeon Wi returned to the clan in exactly three days, looking no different from when he’d left. There wasn’t a speck of dust on the hems of his fluttering robes.

But Yeon Hojeong knew. How desperately his father must have run.

Judge’s Sword. Judge’s Great Hero. Clan Lord of the Yeon Clan of Green Mountain, foremost master of Jiangdong.

The soles of his shoes had been completely worn through by the fearsome body method that had carried him, a super grandmaster, across the land.