The Ruler of Darkness

“Well then, Commander Yeom. I can only hope to have the opportunity to see you again.”

Jeong Ryung and the Scarlet Silk Road Guerrilla Unit, who had put their straw hats back on, politely bid farewell to Elder Yeom.

Although they had said they would follow Elder Yeom all the way to Luoyang, they needed to return to Xi’an as soon as possible to swap shifts with the next team.

After the Open Port Decree, an enormous amount of maritime trade was now taking place.

However, the volume of trade on the Silk Road was also steadily increasing every year.

Xi’an, as the gateway city connecting the metropolis of Luoyang and the Silk Road, was fulfilling various responsibilities.

The Scarlet Silk Road Guerrilla Unit was one of them.

“Yes. Give my regards to the Benevolent Hall Master….”

Elder Yeom hesitated for a moment before continuing with a parent’s heart.

The man, the eldest son of the family but one who loved the desert and wilderness, smiled.

“My sister will make a far better Governor of Xi’an than me. My presence in Xi’an would only cause discord.”

“…Please take care of yourself.”

Jeong Ryung respectfully cupped his hands.

“We only have to deal with mere bandits, but you seem to be facing greater foes, Commander. I wish you victory.”

***

“Wow, the reputation of the Sword House as the greatest clan under the heavens is truly not an empty name!”

When Tang Geng-kui, the sage of the Tang Clan, expressed his sincere amazement, Yeon Ha-eung also waved his hands in an exaggerated manner.

“Oh no, no, that’s not true. If this were Sichuan, wouldn’t the Tang Clan have shown even more than this?”

“Oh my, what are you saying? If that’s true, wouldn’t it mean the Tang Clan is also one of the greatest clans under the heavens?”

“Oh, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, is that so?”

After a moment, the two burst into laughter together.

Befitting the two individuals who were dedicated to diplomatic and social affairs in their respective clans, they got along swimmingly, amiably flattering each other.

The mood among the other members of the investment group wasn’t bad either.

Being ambushed in a foreign land was a terrible thing.

It was difficult to seek help, and often there was no one to turn to.

Sometimes, like now, it was even hard to know the reason for the attack.

Nevertheless, the enemies were all dead, and there was not a single casualty on their side.

Having the armed forces of the Luoyang Sword House and the renowned Breaking the Mountain of Swords and Peaks together meant more than simply ensuring safety.

***

The investment group’s procession began to move again, but unlike the others, there were some whose moods had sunk considerably.

It was the Emei Sect.

“….”

If someone unaware of the situation saw them, the Emei Sect would look like a defeated army.

Whether they were combat personnel or non-combat personnel, they couldn’t help but feel intimidated by the power of the Luoyang Sword House they had just witnessed firsthand.

They too had once been members of the Nine Great Sects and possessed boundless pride in their martial arts.

Even now, if told to spar with the warriors of the Luoyang Sword House, any martial monk would readily roll up their sleeves and step forward.

However.

‘…The Luoyang Sword House is different from the Sichuan Tang Clan. They have surpassed the standards of clans or sects.’

No one responded to the telepathic message of a martial monk.

Even in their waking state, the scene they had just witnessed vividly replayed in their minds.

First, the armored transport carriages.

The might of the carriages, still running with arrows hanging from them like decorations from the assassination team’s attack, was enough to evoke hollow laughter.

The agile response the coachmen had shown to defend against the arrows was shocking enough on its own.

The sight of the Sword Troop maintaining composure amidst the heat of battle and toying with the enemies through collective tactics rather than individual martial arts was already terrifying.

Moreover, what about the armored cavalry?

Heavily armored warriors on armored warhorses were something one would expect to see in a military unit near the border.

Yet a single clan was training and deploying such forces in groups.

On top of that, they even had a military advisor!

In the past, before the decline of the Martial Alliance.

In those days, it wasn’t that the strategists flattered each other by calling themselves military advisors, but they were real military advisors for war and combat!

Although those who were once called aristocratic families now possessed even greater power.

Nevertheless, from this battle alone, they couldn’t help but vividly feel what it meant to be the greatest clan under the heavens.

***

‘Breaking the Mountain of Swords and Peaks, that fellow’s mastery has deepened further.’

Crunch.

It was a lavishly decorated carriage.

‘Did he gain some enlightenment in the Northern War?’

However, due to the long journey and the arrows hideously embedded in it, the carriage now looked even more grotesque.

Crunch.

Moreover, even the Emei Sect’s banner had been damaged, so it was now running without a banner, enshrined inside the carriage.

Crunch.

In the dimly lit carriage with the curtains fully drawn, a white-haired old woman was grinding her teeth.

‘Why has the gap between them and us become so wide?’

How many times, dozens of times, hundreds of times, thousands of times had she pondered this question?

Since when?

At what point did the gold and power that the great sects of the martial arts world used to scoff at surpass a thousand or two thousand years of tradition and history?

‘Money, money, money, money, money, money, money!’

Tenaciously, to the point where the moniker Purple Sound Divine Nun became the White-Haired Fiend, she had devoted and sacrificed her entire life to the Emei Sect.

She had sacrificed and sacrificed again.

She had traded her notoriety for the Emei Sect’s success story.

Even so.

But why wouldn’t the gap that had already emerged in the past history narrow in the slightest?!

Widening and continuing to grow further apart!

Crunch.

Her gums tore, and crimson blood flowed.

A wound had formed on the iron-like body of one who had crossed the threshold into the realm of great perfection.

However, her heart, where only scars remained, could no longer feel pain atop the deep-rooted hatred that had been passed down through generations.

‘Daseollang is a treasure nurtured in the bosom of our Ami. It belongs to the Emei Sect!’

The old woman’s eyes seemed to be burning fiercely.

In that resentment-filled mind, Buddhist faith had long ago crumbled.

No.

At this point, it was only vague in the fog of delusion and oblivion whether such a thing had even existed in the first place.

‘Daseollang is a once-in-a-thousand-year opportunity that will lead my Emei Sect to dominate Sichuan in the future.’

Veins bulged on the old woman’s forehead.

‘Don’t even think this old nun will easily hand them over.’

The carriage of vanity and hatred, carrying the old woman who had lived her entire life as a dog of gold and power, was racing towards Luoyang.

***

Elder Yeom sat in the armored transport carriage with a calm expression, tending to his giant sword.

Even in the swaying carriage, not a hint of tremor could be found in his hand movements.

However, his inner self was gradually heating up with the scent of war he had encountered after a long time.

‘The battle is over, but the war is only beginning.’

He quietly quelled the fighting spirit that was silently boiling up within him.

He was the Breaking the Mountain of Swords and Peaks.

The very person who had defeated the Sword Sovereign of Mount Hua in the past, stamping the prestige of the righteous faction, which had been aiming for an opportunity to rise again, into the ground.

***

Wongak Pavilion Pavilion of the Luoyang Sword House.

“Amitabha, thank you again today.”

“Hoho. The warm hearts of the bodhisattvas are like the heart of Buddha.”

As always, old monks in beggar’s attire were receiving alms in the kitchen of Wongak Pavilion.

They were old monks who hadn’t been seen for a while.

It seemed they had taken advantage of the momentary calm after the recent turmoil at Wongak Pavilion.

Il-ryeong, who had been watching them with suspicious eyes as usual, opened her mouth.

“Venerable monks. Are you really from Shaolin Temple?”

Then, the old monks noticeably became flustered.

“Hmm? This poor monk is old, and my hearing is poor these days.”

“Hoho. Amitabha. Amitabha.”

Sam-ryeong raised her eyebrows in a triangular shape.

“I clearly saw you come out of the Devil’s Forest earlier, right? Doesn’t that forest lead to Mount Sung?”

Another old monk hurriedly waved his hand.

“We poor monks are just, well, you know, monks from another temple on Mount Sung.”

Il-ryeong sighed.

“Is there any other temple on Mount Sung besides Shaolin Temple, which is closed to outsiders?”

There wasn’t.

“W-well, is that so? Actually, that moun- Mount Sung is not….”

Their lies were so clumsy that it made one lose the will to interrogate them.

“Goodness.”

Il-ryeong sighed and handed them a cloth bundle containing tea leaves.

“I wasn’t trying to interrogate you, I was just asking out of curiosity.”

Perhaps they were afraid of it being known outside that they had left the closed-off Shaolin Temple and come down like this.

Then the old monks let out a sigh of relief.

“Amitabha. Amitabha.”

“These precious tea leaves…. Thank you.”

The triplet maids, who had been trying to send off the old monks as usual, found the old monks hesitating for some reason today.

“Hmm, Amitabha. Actually….”

“Ahem.”

Seeing the unusual behavior of the old monks, who would normally disappear as if using a shrinking technique, Il-ryeong asked.

“Do you have more business here?”

The old monks gave a sheepish smile.

“Could we perhaps see the young master?”

A moment later.

The two old monks, who had politely exchanged bows with Yeon So-hyeon, had a subtle smile on their faces.

For some reason, the triplet maids could smell a faint scent of lotus from their smiles.

“Maha Maudgalyayana, in the end, that heavenly eye of yours could not bear to turn a blind eye to the suffering of sentient beings in the mortal world….”

“Subhuti, in the end, that wisdom and compassion of yours will lead you to the abyss of the eight sufferings….”

Maha Maudgalyayana and Subhuti were the names of two of the ten great disciples of Shakyamuni.

Yeon So-hyeon slowly shook his head.

“I am merely shouldering the responsibility I have borne since birth.”

Then the two old monks smiled with compassion.

“You are a bodhisattva, so do not think of your suffering as the price of sin. It is ultimately nothing more than the sacred fetters of suffering.”

Yeon So-hyeon smiled faintly.

“…The sacred fetters of suffering. How could someone like me dare to walk the path of the Four Noble Truths?”

Then the other old monk comforted Yeon So-hyeon.

“Though the darkness that binds you may be infinitely deep, do not think it has no end. Even if it takes nayuta kalpas, would it have no end?”

“….”

Yeon So-hyeon received considerable consolation from the words of the two Zen masters.

“Never forget liberation.”

“Never forget nirvana.”

The two old monks made a long bow while looking at Yeon So-hyeon.

“This is a small gift we can offer on your path.”

“I hope it will be of some help, even if only a little.”

The triplet maids, who had been momentarily entranced by some immense energy they couldn’t resist, came to their senses.

However, the old monks had already disappeared.

“Young Master, this is…?!”

Yeon So-hyeon picked up the old book that had been placed on the floor.

“…We have received a gift whose value cannot be measured.”

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