Rumble. BOOM!

Shhhhhhhh——!

Thunder roared and lightning split the sky. Rain fell in sheets so thick it was nearly impossible to see ahead.

That was the kind of weather it was.

The day the Dark Alliance Lord died.

“We must appoint a new Alliance Lord immediately.”

Like the grim future of the Dark Path itself, roughly ten people had gathered in a pitch-dark secret chamber. The only light between them was a single candle burning at the center of the table.

Among them, a man with a long scar carved across his cheek spoke first, his voice cold.

“As you all know, the Alliance Lord has passed. Under suspicious circumstances, no less. Naturally, his death will need to be thoroughly investigated. But more pressing than that — the seat of the Alliance Lord cannot remain vacant for even a moment.”

“However…… was it not said that the Young Lord was also found dead? Regrettably.”

Someone responded to his words. Hearing the truth none of them wanted to believe spoken aloud made the severity of the Dark Alliance’s situation all the more real.

“Does Clan Head Gok have an alternative?”

One of the seven clans that upheld the Dark Alliance — Gok Cheonmu, Clan Head of the Tyrant Blade Gok Clan. He offered a faint smile.

“It’s simple. When the Dark Alliance was first established, the seat went to whoever held the greatest martial prowess. Seeing as the late lord has left no clear successor, it would naturally fall to the Clan Head of the Black Sword Cheon Clan — the strongest among us……”

“No. That’s out of the question.”

A woman cut him off before he could finish. Gok Cheonmu furrowed his brow and fixed her with a glacial stare.

“Who gave you the right to interrupt me, woman? Do you think the Alliance Lord who used to protect you is still standing at your side? Or are you emboldened by your father? You’d best think carefully before you open that mouth of yours again. Your title as Military Advisor means absolutely nothing to me.”

The Dark Alliance’s young genius Military Advisor — Woon Seorin — furrowed her elegant brows.

After the Alliance Lord’s death, she had anticipated that while others might be uncertain, the Clan Head of the Tyrant Blade Gok Clan would treat her like this. So she wasn’t surprised.

But it still didn’t sit well with her.

“Haah……”

Woon Seorin let out a slow breath. Then she looked Gok Cheonmu directly in the eye.

“I would have kept quiet too — if the Clan Head hadn’t said something so foolish.”

“What did you say?”

Slam!

Gok Cheonmu struck the table, his fury plain on his face. But Woon Seorin only smirked.

“Since you seem to be in the dark, allow me — this ‘woman’ — to explain. The Clan Heads of the Seven Families of the Dark Path are barred from becoming Alliance Lord. It was one of the conditions agreed upon when we formed our alliance with the Murim Alliance.”

“Hmph. What a pathetic thing to say. Who cares about some old agreement?! How dare the Murim Alliance have any say in who stands at the head of our Dark Path?! I’d sooner go to war with them than bow to their rules!”

Woon Seorin shook her head slightly.

The fool must have forgotten — why the other Clan Heads hadn’t challenged her words.

She smoothed back her hair and exhaled softly.

“There’s no point reasoning with you. Then let me put it in terms you can understand. If you dismiss me one more time, I will be resigning from my position as Military Advisor.”

Gok Cheonmu scoffed.

“Hmph! Good riddance.”

“Oh. And since you were kind enough to bring up my father — I may as well live up to your expectations. The Black Dragon Woon Clan will also be withdrawing from the Dark Alliance.”

This time, he couldn’t laugh.

“Wh — what?! You dare threaten me?!”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m doing. Lucky you — at least you have just enough intelligence to recognize a threat.”

Gok Cheonmu’s face flushed crimson. He looked as though he might lunge across the table and close his hands around her slender throat at any moment. The killing intent pouring off him was that intense.

But Woon Seorin didn’t so much as blink. She smiled instead.

“Hehe. What do you think would happen if the Black Dragon Woon Clan withdrew from the Dark Alliance? We are a clan with a long and distinguished history. Countless sects and families follow the Woon Clan’s lead — and the trade routes throughout Zhejiang are firmly in our hands. Now do you understand? Why I hold a seat at this table? If anything, I worry it’s the Gok Clan the other Six Families might move to cast out.”

“You dare——!”

Woon Seorin nodded pointedly.

“Yes — I dare! If you wanted to stand against the Murim Alliance, this is the kind of resolve you needed! Listen carefully. The moment we fall out of favor with the Murim Alliance, the Dark Alliance is finished. What do you think would happen without the Black Dragon Woon Clan behind you? Can the Gok Clan hold them off alone? Could you even stop the Black Sword Cheon Clan? Your good-for-nothing son would be the first to lose his head to every self-proclaimed hero of justice out there.”

At Woon Seorin’s declaration, the air in the secret chamber went cold in an instant.

Had they finally grasped the Dark Alliance’s precarious position? Were they picturing the future ahead?

No one could speak. Not even Gok Cheonmu.

He hadn’t expected her to threaten a withdrawal from the Dark Alliance so openly.

Damn it. Under any other circumstances, what she just said would have been more than enough grounds to have her removed.

But given the extraordinary situation — the death of the Alliance Lord — her threat carried real weight.

A brief silence fell over the room.

“The alternative?”

A quiet voice cut through the stillness. The already cold air seemed to freeze solid.

Even Woon Seorin, who had been pressing Gok Cheonmu without restraint, turned her head with a stiffened expression.

The man seated at the head of the table — the Clan Head of the Black Sword Cheon Clan — was watching her with an indifferent gaze. Woon Seorin swallowed dryly and slowly opened her mouth.

“There is someone. Someone who can fill the seat of Alliance Lord.”

“Who?”

His voice was as flat as his eyes. The pressure he exuded was greater than anything Gok Cheonmu’s killing intent had produced.

Woon Seorin clenched her fist beneath the table and fought to keep her composure.

“Over twenty years ago, when we first formed our alliance with the Murim Alliance — as you all know, it was an alliance in name only. A humiliating arrangement forced upon us by superior strength. As a symbol of that agreement, the Alliance Lord’s son was sent to the Murim Alliance. As a hostage. As a living emblem of the treaty.”

The man considered this for a moment, then nodded.

“I remember.”

“He’s still with the Murim Alliance.”

A faint smile crossed the man’s face.

“Interesting. So he’s still alive.”

“We received word of him from time to time. The Alliance Lord…… missed him deeply.”

Even after taking in an adopted son, that pain had never truly faded.

“Then it’s settled.”

“……!!”

Every eye in the room snapped toward him at once. Even Woon Seorin, the one who had brought up the idea, couldn’t help but be taken aback.

She had prepared so much to make her case. She hadn’t expected him to agree so readily.

Gok Cheonmu immediately pushed back.

“W-wait! Brother! You can’t just decide that so easily! Do you even know what kind of man he is?! Bluntly put, he’s someone who’s spent twenty years steeped in the ways of the righteous path! Twenty years is more than enough time to become the Murim Alliance Lord’s puppet——!!”

But his words never reached their end. The man’s indifferent gaze alone was enough to silence him.

“The Military Advisor will handle this personally.”

With that, the man rose and left.

No one said a word. His intentions, the future ahead — none of it could be predicted.

One by one, the remaining figures filed out of the secret chamber.

Bang!!

Even Gok Cheonmu, the last to leave, gave the table one final pointless slam on his way out.

Only then was Woon Seorin left alone.

“Haah……”

Had she crossed a great mountain?

Or had she only just reached its foot?

Woon Seorin shook her head, clearing her thoughts.

“Commander of the Black Dragon Guard.”

At her call, a man clad in black emerged from the shadows.

“My lady.”

Without so much as glancing at him, Woon Seorin spoke.

“I want the Black Dragon Guard to handle retrieving the Alliance Lord’s son.”

She drew a small slip of paper from her robes and held it out.

“I’ve described what he likely looks like now, based on testimony from an informant who spotted him some time ago. His name, age, and other basic details are included — finding him shouldn’t be an issue. I’ll also be sending a formal request to the Murim Alliance for his return.”

The Commander parted his lips as if to ask something, but ultimately withdrew without a word.

Only then did Woon Seorin’s cold gaze drift to where he had stood. Whatever she was thinking, her eyes held a tangle of emotions too complex to name.

Twelve hours had passed since the Dark Alliance Lord’s death.

Outside, the thunder had yet to cease.

After leaving, Gok Cheonmu had intended to go straight to the Black Sword Cheon Clan.

But someone was waiting for him.

Cho Igyeom, Clan Head of the Soaring Wind Cho Clan — one of the Seven Families of the Dark Path.

Gok Cheonmu’s expression soured.

“I have nothing to say to you. Get lost.”

Cho Igyeom wore an easy smile.

“Hahaha. Our Clan Head Gok seems to be in quite the foul mood. Still, hear me out before you go — no need to irritate Clan Head Cheon any further.”

“Looking to die?”

At the killing intent rolling off Gok Cheonmu, Cho Igyeom hugged his own arms and shook his head vigorously.

“Absolutely not! Come now, consider my position. Why do you think someone from the Woon Clan’s side would come looking for you, of all people?”

At that, the killing intent faded.

“Make it quick. I have no interest in talking with trash like you any longer than necessary.”

The corners of Cho Igyeom’s mouth curled upward.

“Of course. I’ll get straight to the point. I’m selling information — if you’re willing to pay the right price.”

Glaring into Cho Igyeom’s glinting eyes, the corners of Gok Cheonmu’s mouth curled upward as well.

“This might take a while.”

The two men walked off together, cutting through the pouring rain.

Gulp.

The sound of someone swallowing seemed as loud as a crack of thunder.

The Murim Alliance entrance examination — held once every four years. For the first stage, the Alliance had candidates strike large boulders set in an open field behind the mountain, using wooden swords. Hundreds of applicants took their turns, one after another.

[Every strong action produces a result to match.]

Just as the examiner had explained, those with exceptional martial prowess cracked the boulders or sent chips of stone flying. For most candidates, the sound of their strike alone measured their skill.

Skin as white as snow. Elegantly arched brows and lips with a faint blush of red.

A young man so strikingly handsome one might easily mistake him for a woman stood before the boulder, expression tense.

A few in the crowd had been drawn to stare at him. The faint, unplaceable sorrow in his eyes gave him an aura that defied easy description — a subtle weight, like something pressing on the chest. They couldn’t look away.

Perhaps he felt their gazes. He swallowed dryly again, trying to settle his nerves.

“Hey! Get a move on! Do you have any idea how many people are still waiting behind you?!”

The examiner’s barking didn’t help in the slightest.

Tch. He sure likes to bark.

This was nothing like the impression of the Murim Alliance he had imagined.

The young man moved with deliberate calm. He raised his wooden sword high toward the sky——

Whoooosh!

——and brought it down like a bolt of lightning.

Thwack.

“Huh?”

That one dumb exclamation was all it took. Muffled laughter rippled through the crowd from every direction. The examiner couldn’t hide his baffled expression.

“Seo Woojin — FAIL!”

The young man called Seo Woojin, face burning red, practically fled the examination grounds. The crowd finally let loose.

“Bwahaha! I thought he might be some great clan’s youngest son slumming it in disguise — turns out he’s just a greenhorn!”

“Pfft. Trying to enter the Murim Alliance with skill like that. Whether he has no shame or no brain, I can’t say. Tsk, tsk.”

The examiner muttered irritably and tore up the slip of paper with Seo Woojin’s information on it.

“Damn it. Every Tom, Dick, and Harry wants to join the Murim Alliance these days. Next candidate!! Move it!!”

He clicked his tongue and turned back to the boulder.

The form was clearly the Azure Dragon Flash — a basic technique from the Wind Flow Eighteen Swords, the Murim Alliance’s foundational sword style. His posture was clean enough to use as a textbook example. But…… no internal energy behind it whatsoever, and no natural strength to make up for it either.

The examiner shook his head and put the young man out of his mind. He had a job to do.

“Haah……”

Seo Woojin trudged along, shoulders slumped.

I did exactly what Grandfather taught me. Why……

No. That wasn’t right.

Grandfather had always said it.

[With martial skills like yours, you’re fit to die alone in a ditch!! Stop chasing foolish dreams!]

He had always thought it was just the old man’s way of tormenting him.

Maybe it was the truth after all.

Damn it. Even so! All that effort I put in!! And for what — a thwack?! One pathetic little thwack?!

Even swinging with raw physical strength would have made a louder sound.

Seo Woojin let out a deep sigh.

“Forget it…… I’m going back to the mountain. I’ll live out my days farming. Wandering hero, my ass. Murim Alliance can go to hell.”

He had no regrets left, and nothing to hold him back. Grandfather wasn’t around to nag him anymore anyway.

Just as he made that resolution and tried to pull himself together——

A group of figures stepped out to block his path. All of them clad in black.

Seo Woojin was caught completely off guard, but he forced himself to speak calmly.

“Wh-what do you want?”

His voice wavered slightly, but luckily they didn’t seem to notice. The most menacing-looking one among them stepped forward.

“Pardon the intrusion — and we’ll continue to be an intrusion a little longer. Might we ask your name?”

“Wha — why would you——”

“It’s simple. Just give us your name and age. We’ll be on our way after that.”

Seo Woojin’s eyes trembled.

Name and age, out of nowhere — and from a group this large?

What’s going on? Who are these people? Damn it. Am I going to die the moment I step out into the world? Is the jianghu really as merciless as Grandfather always said?

No. That can’t be it.

He subtly slid one foot back and let his hand drift naturally toward his sword hilt.

“Seo Woojin. Twenty-six this year.”

“……!!”

He could see the figures in black visibly stir.

This is my chance — take out the one up front——!

Just as he was about to draw his sword in one clean motion——

Every last one of the figures in black dropped to one knee simultaneously.

“We greet the Young Alliance Lord——!!”

Seo Woojin stood frozen, hand still on his hilt, wearing the most bewildered expression of his life.

“Huh……?”

The dumbest sound slipped out of his mouth.

At that same moment.

Murim Alliance examination grounds.

“Wh-what in the……”

The examiner couldn’t find the words.

While waiting for the next candidate——

The massive boulder had collapsed on its own.

“Wh-what on earth……?!”

That boulder was the very one that Seo Woojin — the young man everyone had laughed at — had struck.

(End of Chapter 1)