Seolhwa remained at the Namgoong estate while Ryeong made the daily rounds between there and the Sado Union’s branch, relaying its news.

“Men claiming to be the Sado Union are extorting passersby and causing disturbances.”

That was what Ryeong reported after returning from the branch—an urgent message from the Hao Sect Master.

If it was urgent enough not even to bother with a letter, then it was serious indeed.

“They say it’s spread all across the Central Plains at once, which means there must be someone behind it, but they haven’t found out who yet.”

“Extorting money, making a scene. That’s all?”

“Yes. For now, that seems to be it.”

Seolhwa slowly nodded.

That level of trouble wasn’t unusual; even black-path groups actually affiliated with the Sado Union caused such incidents now and then.

Membership didn’t suddenly reform one’s conduct, and it wasn’t possible to prevent every minor crime committed by a small force under the banner.

The problem was if they caused something far more severe.

Murder. Trafficking. Things like that.

“The timing is bad.”

“What timing do you mean?”

“The Martial Alliance has only just been founded. And right now, men claiming to be the Sado Union show up.”

At present, it was no more than small disturbances. But if the scale grew—

“The Martial Alliance might take it as the Sado Union moving to check their power. Or think we’re baring our claws after bringing the Surochae under us.”

If that happened, it would be troublesome.

If someone at the Alliance meeting even suggested exterminating the Sado Union, then every effort Seolhwa had made to change the perception of the black path would go to waste.

So before anything larger could erupt—

“Tell them to hurry and uncover who’s behind this. Say it must be found out before the tournament at the latest.”

“Understood.”

Ryeong gave a short bow and left the room at once.

Seolhwa’s gaze sank low.

“So, the moment the Martial Alliance is formed, pretenders claiming to be the Sado Union appear...”

It had to be intentional.

Were they trying to sow discord between the Martial Alliance and the Sado Union? Or perhaps using the Sado Union as a tool to restrain the Alliance.

“Was it the work of the Blood Demon Cult?”

Because of the changed events from her past life, the cult’s responses were likely to differ.

This time, the First Moon Medallion had been captured before the Blood Demon could even begin his full rampage. They would surely attempt something else.

“Yes... with more changes, more outcomes slip beyond my predictions.”

But that wasn’t a bad thing.

The more variables there were, the farther reality drifted from the Blood Demon’s foreseen future.

Seolhwa tapped the pommel of the sword she held, lost in thought.

“All I can do is wait for the Hao Sect to hurry and expose the hand behind this...”

****

The Martial Alliance headquarters was completed.

It was established in Wuhan, Hubei Province.

Wuhan, the heart of the Central Plains, was a crossroads where rivers and roads branched out in all directions. That made it a hub of trade and constant passage, the perfect place for the Alliance to be seen by countless eyes.

The buildings were immense and resplendent, built as Namgoong Mucheon had envisioned: visible to all, a towering symbol of orthodox might and endurance.

With the headquarters completed, the Martial Alliance’s offices that had been operating out of the Namgoong estate shifted to their new base.

The Martial Alliance Lord: Namgoong Mucheon.

Military advisor: Jegal Myeong.

The four armed Divisions and their Chief Division Lord: Seop Mugwang.

The heads of the fourteen main factions were each granted elder seats, though they could not travel freely because of their clans and sects’ affairs.

Instead, each faction sent a representative warrior to serve as one of the Fourteen Elders, holding decision-making authority in Alliance matters.

From the Namgoong Clan came the former Martial Hall Lord, Namgoong Mugang.

From Shaolin, the former Precepts Hall Lord, Beopseon.

From Mount Hua, the former Grand Elder, No Seon.

From the Sichuan Tang Clan, the former Clan Head, Tang Sangcheon.

All were warriors who could stand as representatives of their sects and of the martial world.

The Wudang Sect still did not appear, but their elder seat remained vacant.

As for the Alliance’s administration:

Shaolin filled the post of Martial Alliance Chief Steward.

Zhongnan Sect took the Hall of Guardianship.

Mount Emei took the Guest Hall.

The Hebei Peng Clan took the Patrol Hall.

Every organizational branch of the Martial Alliance was filled by talents dispatched from the fourteen factions, and once within the Alliance, they served as its members regardless of their origin.

****

At the Martial Alliance headquarters, in the Central Council Hall, the first Elder Meeting since completion was convened.

As promised by Namgoong Mucheon, a vast round table had been set, and the fourteen elders representing their sects and clans sat around it.

“The Sado Union’s misdeeds grow by the day. Now they even blockade roads and threaten merchant caravans. This is no longer a matter we can sit idly by on.”

The Shaolin representative, Beopseon, raised the issue.

The Moyong Clan’s elder, Moyong Songbaek, responded.

“I agree. Since ancient times it’s been said—when black-path ruffians run wild, clouds gather and the storm must follow. We cannot leave them unchecked any longer.”

But the Mount Qingcheng elder, Jaheon, countered.

“Yet the tournament is nearly upon us. Even if we wished to move against the Sado Union now, do we have the strength?”

“What does the Alliance Lord think?”

Mount Hua’s No Seon turned to ask, and every gaze shifted to Namgoong Mucheon.

The elders would deliberate, but the final decision still lay in the Alliance Lord’s hands.

Mucheon slowly nodded and spoke.

“I agree with your concerns. But the truth is, the tournament is upon us. The Alliance is not yet fully stable, and our Divisions still require organizing. It would be difficult to press the matter now.”

The elders nodded.

Even Beopseon, who had raised the matter, yielded, recognizing that the purpose had been to raise vigilance rather than push for immediate action.

Mucheon addressed them again.

“Still, there must be a reason why the Sado Union began acting the moment our Alliance took shape. I propose we strengthen our defenses and increase the guards near Alliance grounds.”

The problem was that the Alliance forces weren’t yet at full strength.

“So, I ask each faction to dispatch men to reinforce security during the tournament, to aid in ensuring it proceeds safely.”

The Martial Alliance was incomplete.

Its Divisions and organizational posts still had many unfilled seats.

Those vacancies were meant for the lesser factions and unaffiliated talents of the martial world. After the tournament, they would naturally be filled.

Then, the Martial Alliance would at last be whole—a true orthodox union.

Knowing this, the Fourteen Elders nodded to Mucheon’s words.

****

“Have you heard? They say fighters even from Haenam, across the sea, are coming to join this tournament.”

“I did! Not only them—Shaolin, Mount Hua, the Moyong Clan, the Sichuan Tang Clan. Every great faction in the Central Plains is sending men!”

“Heh. This will be a fine spectacle indeed.”

Crunch. Crackle.

Listening to the chatter of passersby, Seolhwa popped the last sugared hawthorn from her skewer into her mouth.

Wuhan was packed to bursting with martial artists and spectators alike, drawn to the greatest event ever held since the martial world began.

“Look! Monks!”

“Wow! Shaolin!”

Children rushed past in a flock. Seolhwa stepped aside to avoid being caught in their stampede.

[Hmph. Dull-witted little humans. Where do they see Shaolin monks in that rabble?]

So grumbled the Imoogi, not even poking its head out from her sleeve. It hated both children and noise—and now it was surrounded by both.

Seolhwa glanced at the supposed monks.

They wore robes, yes—but bore long spears, and half were women. More likely disciples of Mount Emei.

— They’re just kids. Shaolin’s famous, so that’s what they assume.

[What insolence! If he’s a monk he must be Shaolin, if she’s a Daoist she must be Wudang—tsk. Humans’ foolishness never changes.]

— Want a sweet?

[Why are we still standing here? I’ve been waiting!]

Seolhwa chuckled quietly and started walking.

Soothing the Imoogi’s sharp temper with a sweet, she made her way toward the Martial Alliance.

It towered over Wuhan, visible from anywhere in the bustling city—a great fortress at the very heart.

Jegal Myeong had said he had used a formation to make it visible from all directions.

To think formations could do such things.

Of course—he was the man who had once built the impregnable stronghold of the Jegal Clan...

...

Seolhwa’s gaze sank low.

She turned and stared toward a certain spot behind her.

[What is it?]

The Imoogi poked its head out of her sleeve to scan the surroundings.

“...Nothing.”

Seolhwa shook her head and turned away, leaving that place behind.

“Let’s go.”

Arriving at the Alliance gates, she showed her token. The guards looked startled, then let her through.

During the tournament, members of the fourteen factions could enter freely, so it was no trouble.

As she passed through the towering gates, she overheard the guards whispering.

“Did you see her? That girl’s from the Namgoong Clan.”

“Who was she?”

“Name’s Namgoong Seolhwa. Could it be... you know, the one the Namgoong Clan was searching for, four or five years back?”

“That’s her...! Hah. Came back on her own, and grown so much already? She looks like a proper martial noble now.”

“You think she’s here to compete in the tournament?”

“Ha! No way. Even if she’s Namgoong, she’s only been training four ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) or five years. How could she join? She’s just here to watch.”