The Legend of the Northern Blade

Myeong Ryu-San’s butt twitched. Although he was sipping his drink, his ears were tuned to the neighboring seats occupied by Nam Soo-Ryun and Jwa Moon-Ho. However, despite his best efforts to eavesdrop, he couldn’t hear them.

It was the same for the other curious patrons of the inn. Although all of them were aware of the heated exchange between Nam Soo-Ryun and Jwa Moon-Ho, none of them realized how rude and inappropriate Jwa Moon-Ho was behaving.

BANG!

Suddenly, Jwa Moon-Ho slammed his hand on the table and stood up from his seat. The noise was so loud that many of the inn’s occupants wore pained expressions and covered their ears.

Jwa Moon-Ho leveled a menacing glare at Nam Soo-Ryun, who met his gaze unwaveringly. Tension gripped the atmosphere, and the inn’s martial artists held their breath, sensing the escalation of conflict.

Gritting his teeth, Jwa Moon-Ho pressed, “Are you sure you want to turn down our offer? Why would you refuse something that benefits you?”

Nam Soo-Ryun said resolutely, “My decision is final.”

“I hope you don’t regret this later,” Jwa Moon-Ho seethed. Nam Soo-Ryun was the first martial artist to outright refuse his invitation to join the Azure Dragon Society. It was a blatant insult to his pride as a member.

He spun around and stormed out of the inn. Those martial artists who dared to meet his gaze quickly averted their eyes, sensing the chilly killing intent in his stare.

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Nam Soo-Ryun watched Jwa Moon-Ho’s departing figure with a somber expression. Seriously, the Azure Dragon Society? Has the world become so chaotic that even young martial artists are forming factions?

I’ll need to move carefully from now on, she sighed inwardly, confident in her decision to decline Jwa Moon-Ho’s offer but wary of the grudge she could sense in his fierce eyes.

Nam Soo-Ryun put down her chopsticks. She had lost her appetite. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but tonight seemed like a reasonable day to make an exception. She called to the waiter and asked, “Bring me a bottle of wine.”

As the waiter promptly fulfilled her order, several martial artists couldn’t help but be captivated by the sight of a lonely, beautiful woman enjoying her drink. Having witnessed her earlier confrontation with the Flying Eagle Swordsman Jwa Moon-Ho, though, none of them dared to approach her with amorous intentions.

Myeong Ryu-San was one of those mesmerized men. His mind swirled as he pondered her identity and affiliation, and if she aspired to join Heaven’s Summit just like he did. Unfortunately, he lacked the courage to approach her, choosing instead to drown his thoughts in the humble, unassuming booze in front of him.

Suddenly, the door of the inn creaked open again. Myeong Ryu-San looked up, half expecting Jwa Moon-Ho to return. To his surprise, it was not Jwa Moon-Ho, but a group that had recently visited his hometown. If he remembered correctly, the man wearing a maroon robe was Jin Mu-Won, and the ones with him were Ha Jin-Wol, Tang Gi-Mun, and Tang Mi-Ryeo.

The group was in a foul mood. Every inn they had visited had turned them away, even the seemingly run-down ones, and they were getting hungry. Although they had little hope that this inn would have any vacancies, they elected to eat here.

Jin Mu-Won’s gaze wandered across the inn restaurant before settling on Nam Soo-Ryun, who occupied a table by herself. He walked up to her and asked, “Miss, if you don’t mind, could we join you? There aren’t any empty tables left.”

Nam Soo-Ryun, her mood still affected by her earlier encounter with Jwa Moon-Ho, glanced at Jin Mu-won. Sensing that he harbored no ill intent, she nodded.

“Thank you,” Jin Mu-Won said, waving his companions over. “This kind lady has agreed to share a table with us,” he told them when they arrived.

“Thank you, Miss.”

“Thank you!”

The group thanked Nam Soo-Ryun as they seated themselves at the table.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m nearly done eating anyway,” she assured.

The waiter soon approached, and Tang Gi-Mun asked, “Do you have any rooms available?”

The waiter hesitated, aware of the current occupancy of the inn. “We do have an outhouse, but it’s rather costly…”

Tang Gi-Mun brushed aside the concern. “An outhouse will suffice. How much?”

Surprised by Tang Gi-Mun’s self-assurance, the waiter panicked. The outhouse was nothing more than a shabby living quarters for the innkeeper and his wife, and charging a high price for it nagged at his conscience. “F-Five silvers, Sir…” he stammered.

Unperturbed by the waiter’s discomfort, Tang Gi-Mun pulled out a pouch from his chest pocket, the jingling sound within hinting at its contents. He took out five silver coins and handed them over, saying, “The meal will be paid for separately, so serve us your best dishes.”

“Sure thing, I’ll be right back!” the waiter squealed with delight as he dashed to the kitchen, marveling at his unexpected windfall.

Jin Mu-Won smiled wryly, “At least we have lodgings now, even if they are modest.”

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Tang Gi-Mun shook his head irritably, “I’m still upset that it took us so long to find one.”

Tang Mi-Ryeo nodded frantically, agreeing with her uncle.

Ha Jin-Wol complained with his characteristic cynicism, “These young martial artists seem to believe that Heaven’s Summit is a walk in the park. They lack the brains to discern and navigate the trials that await them. I doubt many of them have much longer to live.”

Familiar with Ha Jin-Wol’s unfiltered bluntness, Jin Mu-Won smiled and dismissed his acerbic words.

Nam Soo-Ryun, on the other hand, couldn’t suppress a soft chuckle.

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“Oh ho! It seems that the lady here shares my perspective,” Ha Jin-Wol remarked, his eyes gleaming.

“No, it’s not that…”

“Judging by the Four Cardinal Gods engraved on your belt and the golden embroidery on the hilt of your sword, you must be the ‘Saintess of Mount Mu’ Nam Soo-Ryun, one of the Seven Young Skies.”

“What?” Nam Soo-Ryun’s jaw dropped at Ha Jin-Wol’s nonchalant revelation. The fact that the Mount Mu Sect used the Four Cardinal Gods as proof of their identity in the outside world was a well-kept secret. As if that weren’t amazing enough, even within Mount Mu, only a select few were privy to the knowledge that only the sect’s successor had golden embroidery on her sword hilt.

Ha Jin-Wol smirked. “Why are you so surprised? And close your mouth, I think a fly might have gone inside it.”

“Who are you, Mister?” Nam Soo-Ryun asked warily.

“I doubt you’d recognize my name even if I told you. However, I’m sure you’ve heard of my hyung-nim here. Meet Master Tang Gi-Mun, the Tang Clan’s Poison Pavilion Master.”

“What?” Nam Soo-Ryun sat up, her surprise evident. How could she not know that name? There wasn’t a soul in the gangho who hadn’t heard of the Tang Clan, and Tang Gi-Mun was a household name. Along with Myriad Poison Emperor Tang Kwan-Ho, he was one of the world’s top poison experts.

“This Nam Soo-Ryun greets the senior from the Tang Clan.”

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“Hehe, no need to be so polite. Please, sit down,” Tang Gi-Mun said, shooting Ha Jin-Wol a reproachful look for revealing his identity without consent.

However, Ha Jin-Wol remained unperturbed. He knew that the instant he mentioned Nam Soo-Ryun’s identity, Jin Mu-Won had deployed a sound-proof barrier, so everything they discussed within these walls was hidden from prying ears.

Jin Mu-Won smiled in amusement. He had grown accustomed to Ha Jin-Wol’s occasional childlike unpredictability.

Tang Gi-Mun gestured toward Tang Mi-Ryeo, who was seated beside him. “This is my niece, Tang Mi-Ryeo.”

“Ah! You must be Miss Tang, the Flower of Sichuan. Delighted to meet you.”

“I’m even more delighted to make your acquaintance, Venerable Saintess of Mount Mu.”

The women exchanged happy greetings.

Nam Soo-Ryun’s eyes then shifted to Jin Mu-Won, who nodded and said, “I’m Jin Mu-Won.”

“Nice to meet you, Master Jin, but…” Nam Soo-Ryun tilted her head. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.

“You’re also heading to Heaven’s Summit, aren’t you, Miss Nam?” Ha Jin-Wol interrupted her mid-sentence.

“…Yes.”

“Are you going there to gain experience?”

“That’s right,” Nam Soo-Ryun sighed resignedly, feeling like nothing Ha Jin-Wol said could surprise her anymore. Yet, she couldn’t help but wonder who he was. How many people in this gangho can deduce my identity and intentions so effortlessly? Why have I never heard of this man?

Ha Jin-Wol smirked, as if he could read Nam Soo-Ryun’s mind.

Before she could say anything, though, the waiter arrived with their food, adding to Nam Soo-Ryun’s previous order and filling the table with a spread of dishes.

“Fate has brought us together. Since you don’t seem to have eaten much yet, how about joining us?” Ha Jin-Wol suggested.

“B-But…” Nam Soo-Ryun hesitated.

“Wouldn’t you agree that eating is more enjoyable with company than alone?”

“That’s true. Won’t you join us, Miss Nam?” Tang Mi-Ryeo pleaded, making it impossible for Nam Soo-Ryun to refuse.

Nam Soo-Ryun caved in and nodded. Truth be told, she was genuinely curious about these people.

Jin Mu-Won kicked off the party with a toast, and as the five of them started eating, drinks circulated and laughter filled the air.

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