The Invincible Cheonrang Unit.
Pyeong-u Jong came running in, face flushed with excitement. When he spotted Bang Ya-cheol, he let out a surprised "Oh!" before quickly cupping his fists.
"It's an honor to meet you. You must be the White Tiger Corps Commander, Wolf King, the great hero idolized by all wanderers. Your fame precedes you. I am Pyeong-u Jong of the Hebei Peng Clan."
"You must be Ha Wol. I'm Bang Ya-cheol."
Bang Ya-cheol finished speaking and strode forward, leaving the rear garden before anyone could stop him.
Pyeong-u Jong stood with his mouth half open in bewilderment before turning to Murong Lin.
"Ice Phoenix, did I somehow offend the great Wolf King?"
Murong Lin let out a small, cold chuckle and shook her head.
"He was simply giving us privacy because he assumed you had something to discuss with me."
"Ah! Is that so? Still, he could have been a little less blunt about it. Tsk."
"That's just his nature, you'll have to understand. Although… he wasn't always this bad. It's gotten worse over time."
Pyeong-u Jong clicked his tongue and asked,
"With a temperament like that, can he really function in an organization?"
"He's one of the few who can be relied upon to get things done without fail."
"Well, I suppose the Wolf King's reputation doesn't shake the martial world for nothing."
"So, why were you looking for me?"
As if suddenly remembering, Pyeong-u Jong quickly replied,
"Ah! The Lord of the Dokgo Clan is asking for you."
"The Clan Lord?"
Murong Lin tilted her head slightly in surprise. Since arriving at the Sword Fragrance Grounds, she had gone to see the Clan Lord on her own, but he had never once summoned her first.
The Dokgo Clan Lord had remained cautious ever since the disagreement with the Tang Clan regarding Martial Scholar Cheon Ryu-yeong.
"Just now, a messenger bird arrived from the Cheongseong Sect, and it's thrown everything into chaos."
At his words, Murong Lin bit her lip hard.
That thought she had tried to push away, telling herself the chances were slim—yet the 'what if' had proven true. The words from Pyeong-u Jong's mouth were merciless.
"The Heavenly Demon Sword appeared at the Cheongpyeong Inn with only one subordinate. There, nine of Hall Master Uiseong's disciples from the Cheongseong Sect were killed by that subordinate."
"Ah…"
A sigh escaped Murong Lin before she realized it. Pyeong-u Jong continued in a grave tone.
"The Cheongseong Sect's fury is beyond measure. And now the blame for failing to monitor the Sichuan branch is being directed… at you, Ice Phoenix."
Murong Lin raised a hand to cut him off, then let out a deep sigh before speaking with rising anger.
"This is absurd. I'll admit to a minor oversight, but they're blaming me? They weren't exactly flawless in their own handling of the matter, were they?"
Pyeong-u Jong shrugged.
"If the clever Ice Phoenix asks me that, what am I supposed to say?"
Murong Lin ground her teeth, then spoke almost like she was barking an order.
"I'm asking for your opinion, Pyeong-u."
Pyeong-u Jong's brows furrowed.
Military Adviser Wu, Ice Phoenix Murong Lin—whose pride soared to the heavens—was asking for his opinion? It was clear just how rattled she was by the Heavenly Demon Sword's unexpected actions.
"To be honest… isn't this a miscalculation on both your part and the Cheongseong Sect's? It seems silly to pin the blame on just one side."
He spoke bluntly, and though Murong Lin's expression hardened further, he continued calmly.
"And right now, isn't it more important to respond to the situation than dwell on past mistakes?"
"I know that."
Murong Lin's voice was cold as she began walking, and Pyeong-u Jong quickly fell into step beside her.
"Ice Phoenix, the Cheongseong Sect has declared a state of emergency across the entirety of Mount Qingcheng and isn't accepting any visitors."
"A reasonable response."
Pyeong-u Jong nodded at her reply. It was, as she said, the most natural course of action. The problem was that they didn't realize this was exactly what the Heavenly Demon Sword wanted.
As they passed through the Ilgak Gate, Pyeong-u Jong spoke.
"True. But shouldn't we inform them that most of the demon cultists are still at the Sichuan branch?"
"I've already sent a messenger bird. It should have arrived by now."
"Ah, good. Then the Cheongseong Sect will ease up. They seem to think all the branch's forces are converging on them. Given that the Heavenly Demon Sword has declared all-out war, I suppose it's natural they'd assume that."
Murong Lin's expression softened slightly, and she nodded. Now she understood why the Cheongseong Sect had directed their anger at her.
They must have panicked, believing all the demon cultists from the Sichuan branch were coming to Mount Qingcheng.
When Murong Lin didn't reply further, Pyeong-u Jong gave her a curious look.
"Still, isn't it something? Who would have imagined the Heavenly Demon Sword himself would show up? And with only one subordinate?"
Murong Lin nodded unconsciously—but not because she agreed it was impressive. On the contrary.
The Heavenly Demon Sword was insane.
For a commander entrusted with the vanguard by both the demon cult and the Black Heaven Lotus to act like that… Did he carry spare lives around with him?
What on earth was he thinking?
Just contemplating him made her feel like her head was filling with a dense fog.
A madman.
Which was why predicting his next move was so difficult.
"Do you think the Martial Scholar would have anticipated this move?"
At the sudden mention of the Martial Scholar from Pyeong-u Jong, Murong Lin's brows knitted sharply. The Heavenly Demon Sword annoyed her, but Cheon Ryu-yeong was even worse. Her reply came out colder and more dismissive than usual.
"You seem to have a lot of faith in a Martial Scholar you've never even met."
"Heh heh. Hardly. Just curiosity. When I had tea with the Dokgo Clan Lord and casually brought him up, praise for him poured out like a flood. How could I not be curious?"
Murong Lin bit back a bitter smile and countered,
"Does that seem normal to you?"
Pyeong-u Jong shrugged.
"Who knows? What matters is that the famously cautious Clan Lord reacted that way."
"…"
"The Clan Lord fought alongside Cheon Ryu-yeong against the demon cult. When you've stood together in a battlefield where one mistake could cost countless lives, it's not something you can dismiss lightly."
Murong Lin stopped in her tracks. That was almost exactly what the Tang Clan Lord had said not long ago. She turned her head to look at Pyeong-u Jong.
"You speak as though you've seen large-scale battles firsthand."
For a moment, Pyeong-u Jong's eyes flickered.
He tilted his head a few times, chewing on his lip, then scratched at the hair near his ear with his index finger before speaking seriously.
"Once."
Murong Lin's cold expression took on a glint of interest.
"I've never heard that before."
"I joined the fight to suppress the river bandits of the Yangtze. We didn't win, nor did I distinguish myself in any way—so it's no surprise you wouldn't have heard of it."
"…"
"I almost died twice back then. I was lucky to survive. Our strategist at the time said we had enough masters to simply push through head-on… and we paid dearly for it. Heh heh."
"Does Pyeong Suyeon mean against mere river bandits?"
At her tone of disbelief, Pyeong-u jong's smiling face suddenly hardened.
"Mere river bandits… The battlefield wasn't on land, it was on the deck of ships on the Yangtze River."
"Still…"
Pyeong-u jong cut her off mid-sentence — something unlike his usual manner.
"There is no 'still.' On a ship where it's hard to keep your balance, a single slip means the end. If you fall into the water, you don't stand a chance against them. Every last one of them is a water ghost."
Morong Lin nodded in agreement.
"That much makes sense."
"On top of that, the river bandits weren't just fighting us — they were also trying to destroy our ships. We had to fight a double, even triple, battle. We had to keep the ship from breaking apart, put out fires… If even one of our comrades made a small mistake, the ship could run aground, and all of us would die. It was that kind of desperate fight."
"…"
"That's when I realized just how perilous large-scale battles can be. Victory only comes when everyone fights as one, with a single mind and purpose. And the role of a strategist is absolute. A single judgment from them can see countless people die needlessly — or live by a hair's breadth."
Morong Lin silently studied Pyeong-u jong with surprise. She had never before seen this normally playful man speak so seriously, so passionately.
"The battlefield is a monster. One slip, and it swallows everything whole. That monster doesn't care about wealth, martial skill, rank, or background. It devours everything it touches. Most people, crushed by the sheer pressure of that monster, can't even move before they lose their lives."
"I see… So that's why Pyeong Suyeon takes such an interest in both the Cheonma Sword and the Murim Scholar. Because they're people who have fought that monster."
"Well… you could put it that way."
"Thank you for the interesting story."
Morong Lin resumed walking. Pyeong-u jong gazed at her back for a moment before speaking again.
"I'll give you a piece of sincere advice."
She turned her head, her expression incredulous.
"Did Pyeong Suyeon just say you're going to give me advice?"
"You shouldn't judge the Cheonma Sword by your own yardstick. He's a general who's fought endless battles against that monstrous thing and won. If you can acknowledge that, then you can form a proper plan against him."
A crack appeared in Morong Lin's icy expression.
"That sounds to me like you're saying you don't trust me."
"Heh, hardly. Bingbong is a genius acknowledged by everyone, not just me. But precisely because of that, there's the danger of becoming trapped inside your own thoughts. Keep every possibility open. I can't manage that — my brain's too slow — but you can. Because you are… Bingbong."
Morong Lin stared at him for a long moment, then her lips curled faintly.
"I'll take that advice with thanks. After all, I did fail to predict the Cheonma Sword's latest move. It was so extreme and unconventional, there wasn't much I could do."
"I'm glad you took it in the spirit it was meant. But I still feel like you're underestimating the Cheonma Sword…"
She waved a hand, cutting him off.
"Advice is one thing, but my opinion hasn't changed. The Cheonma Sword is waging psychological warfare against us. I can't imagine he would truly commit to an all-out war. He'll quietly return to the Sichuan Branch soon enough."
Pyeong-u jong looked at her silently. Their gazes tangled in the air.
Her brows furrowed.
"You don't believe me, do you?"
"No. I do believe you. I think the same way."
"Then what's with that look in your eyes?"
"You just said it yourself — you didn't anticipate the Cheonma Sword's unconventional move. I was just wondering, what if he continues to make moves that exceed your — and everyone's — expectations?"
"…!"
"And like you, I also think that way. But don't you think the Cheonma Sword knows what everyone is thinking? He's twisting what's obvious. And yet we keep dismissing the obvious — that bothers me. When we fought the Yangtze river bandits, our strategist did exactly that — clung to predictable logic when the battlefield is always changing."
Murong Lin's eyes deepened. She was silent for a while, then the corner of her mouth twisted upward in a wry smile.
"It seems I've been caught out."
She stood still, head bowed, arms folded, deep in thought — forgetting entirely that the Dokgo Clan Head was looking for her. After a short while, she raised her head.
"I'll go to Mount Qingcheng. I'll help the Qingcheng Sect deal with the Cheonma Sword."
It was likely that the Murim Scholar had gone to the Dokgo Clan in Hanzhong rather than here. If so, there was little point in her staying.
Pyeong-u jong nodded enthusiastically, as if to say, That's it exactly!
"When will you leave? Since you've decided, I think you should move at first light tomorrow."
She shook her head.
"They say you should strike while the iron's hot. I'll see the Clan Head now and leave right away."
"At this hour?"
Pyeong-u jong was genuinely surprised. But once she made a decision, her ability to act was formidable. No wonder she had risen to the position of Murim Alliance Strategist at the age of just twenty-seven.
"Who knows? If everything were normal, there'd be nothing left to worry about… but like you said, the Cheonma Sword keeps twisting what's expected. Who's to say he won't cause trouble tonight?"
"That's true."
"I want to see and hear for myself on-site. Just getting bits of information through carrier pigeons has been frustrating."
Her expression was indeed one of frustration as she stretched her arms. Pyeong-u jong chuckled and replied.
"Heh. Sounds good. I'll escort you. Ah, I'm looking forward to this — the Cheonma Sword of the Demonic Cult and Bingbong, Strategist of the Murim Alliance! I hope you show those cultists that the orthodox sects aren't to be taken lightly."
"Well, honestly, I think it's more likely to be a wasted trip. The Cheonma Sword is probably preparing to return already. But like you said, he might be scheming something, so I'm going. And it's true the Qingcheng Sect and the Alliance have been distant lately."
"Either way, I'm excited. Who knows? We might even get to see the famous Cheonma Sword."
She shook her head as if to say there was no chance of that. Pyeong-u jong shrugged in mock innocence.
Neither of them could have guessed that their lighthearted banter would soon become reality.