A Modern Man Who Got Transmigrated Into the Murim World

**Chapter 71**

As for Han Seol-hyun, busy with the affairs of the sect, what about his brother Han Seol-baek?

This wasn’t just about introducing a junior to a senior figure in the martial world.

Jo Hwi wanted to understand the reason behind this, but seeing the serious faces of the martial world’s elders, he hesitated to ask.

In the past, he might have thought that the righteous faction’s elders and Mu Hwang were attempting to oppress the descendants of the Northern Sea. But now, there seemed to be something different in their intentions.

“I understand.”

As Jo Hwi, mounted on the sword, moved further away toward the distant sky, Wu Dang Il Wu Geom’s eyes widened.

“Hahaha…!”

For him, it was a scene that shattered common sense.

It wasn’t the sword spirit of someone who had achieved the heavenly harmony of martial arts.

“That young, late-stage disciple of the righteous faction… How is he able to do this now? Moreover, isn’t that pure will-guided swordsmanship?”

A swordmaster couldn’t be reckless enough to think in such a manner.

A swordmaster who had achieved the absolute state could momentarily imitate aerial swordsmanship, but they would have no means of preventing the massive consumption of will.

The will, also known as “thinking” or “thoughts,” has a limited capacity for human beings. The total amount of will would be quickly depleted.

Thus, maintaining aerial swordsmanship in that way was akin to constantly performing the enormous sword techniques, draining will without rest.

For a martial artist of the world, this wasn’t something they could do.

Wu Dang Il Wu Geom seemed to be thinking this and, reading his thoughts, Mu Hwang let out a small laugh with a somewhat resigned expression.

“That kid is capable of using aerial swordsmanship, and yet can pour out endless will-based sword techniques.”

“…What?”

Mu Hwang let out a quiet sigh.

“The total amount of will he has is unlike that of an ordinary sword master. The way he uses his will is different too. Jo Geom-shin is an enigma in the martial world.”

Hearing this, Beopcheon Daeje Seung nodded gravely.

“Amitabha, the temperament of the will he possesses is indeed beyond ordinary limits.”

“What does that mean?”

Wu Dang Il Wu Geom asked in response, but Beopcheon Daeje Seung simply waved his iron staff without giving an answer.

Then…

Whoooo-

A magnificent golden glow surged, and a vast, boundless power manifested within his body.

The scene was so dazzling and grand that Namgung Jang-ho couldn’t even bear to look directly at him.

It was as though the incarnation of the Buddha itself had appeared!

“When that kid uses his will, my understanding of wisdom stirs like a typhoon, creating chaotic waves.”

“What?”

The reaction from the gods, like Deva Shakra’s wisdom, was only seen when confronting extreme evil.

However, Wu Dang Il Wu Geom couldn’t sense any malevolent nature in Jo Geom-shin.

Soon, Wu Dang Il Wu Geom’s astonished gaze turned toward Mu Hwang.

“Didn’t that kid inherit the progression of the Sword God?”

“Yes, he is undoubtedly the descendant of the Sword God.”

“And yet?”

This was not a simple matter.

If Jo Geom-shin wasn’t the legitimate heir of the righteous faction, then there was no reason for them, these elders, to come out of retirement and once again re-enter the world.

“He possesses a unique fate that can’t be found anywhere in the martial world’s history. I don’t know everything about him yet. Hmm… Perhaps my old friends will know.”

Wu Dang Il Wu Geom’s gaze followed Mu Hwang’s, then turned to Namgung Jang-ho.

“Child, tell us everything about his background.”

“Y-yes? I… I…”

Namgung Jang-ho, looking startled, took a step back, and his innocent reaction was so evident that even the seasoned elders of the martial world couldn’t help but notice.

The face of Hua Shan Dae Hyup Je changed to one of curiosity.

“Without a doubt, he’s not just a descendant of the Sword God—there’s something more incredible about him.”

“No, absolutely! I… I mean…”

Even if he shook his head roughly, the doubts about him would only grow larger.

Wu Dang Il Wu Geom sighed deeply and spoke to Mu Hwang.

“That child has no value beyond the sword. He is born to be a martial artist. Don’t use him for anything other than charging into battle. Tsk, tsk… Namgung (Namgung Jang-ho), why are you always like this? No matter how much time passes, you never change.”

“I have already retired. The new leader will handle matters on their own.”

Hua Shan Dae Hyup Je laughed as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Hahaha! For a man who’s known only the sword all his life and is called the Foolish Sword, now you speak like this! Are you trying to make us all laugh to death?”

Indeed.

A person, at times, may detest someone who reminds them of themselves.

Perhaps that was why doppelgängers loathe each other—it’s an instinct.

“A general’s bravery saves the lives of many subordinates. That’s just an old man’s grumbling, so don’t take it to heart. Just continue with your journey.”

Hua Shan Dae Hyup Je’s words deeply moved Namgung Jang-ho.

“Those words of wisdom! I will engrave them in my heart for the rest of my life, as my path forward!”

“Good!”

After several hours of such exchanges, Jo Hwi, riding his sword, arrived with Han Seol-baek.

The fact that they had managed to travel all the way to He Fei in just half a day astonished the three legendary heroes and Mu Hwang.

Han Seol-baek, perhaps due to the intense wind pressure, had his white hair in disarray, creating a somewhat comical appearance.

But his gaze, fixed on the three heroes of the martial world, was far from friendly.

“Brother!”

When Han Seol-hyun arrived together with Ji Ga-hee, she hurried toward her brother, Han Seol-baek, but he didn’t even glance at his younger sister. Instead, he continued to burn with intense rage, his eyes blazing with fury.

“Why have you called upon this nobleman?”

To him, the Three Heroes of Wunai were not respected seniors of the martial world, but simply enemies. He was just too weak to do anything about it, clenching his fists tightly. Had he attained the level of the Absolute Ice Master, he would have already summoned his ice techniques to strike them down.

As soon as Wunai’s Three Heroes saw the siblings of Seol-pung-han-ga, their faces all turned serious, and they stiffened in place.

The flowing, radiant white hair that fluttered like a wave. An absolute beauty that could not exist in this world. Despite the many years that had passed, their bodies and minds aged, but the awe they felt from back then was still so vivid.

At that time—

Kaang!

The clang of a metal object echoed as the iron staff of the Abbot of Fa-chun hit the ground.

The old monk from Shaolin knelt down.

“Please, forgive the past wrongs of this old man.”

The Grand Hero of Mount Hua also knelt.

“North Sea! What we did to the Ice White Empress… We’ve… not made a single step forward since then. There has not been a day we haven’t regretted those harsh years.”

The Wudang One Sword Hero, kneeling alongside them, threw his sword in front of Han Seol-baek.

“That sword was not the Sword of Sorrow, but the Sword of Evil. I have never unsheathed it since. Now, let this wicked sword take my life and honor the spirit of Han Baek-ha.”

The Three Heroes of Wunai, heroes who had once earned absolute fame as knights of the Jianghu, had now become victims of their past.

It was only now that Cho Hwi understood the reason behind their long seclusion. These heroes, once obsessed with vengeance, had lived through the madness of that time. While later generations praised them, their hearts had been a hell of their own making.

However, Han Seol-baek, rather than showing any mercy, was filled with even greater fury.

Was this pitiful apology enough to compare to the hell that Seol-pung-han-ga had endured?

The sight of them kneeling was merely a disguise, a trick to alleviate their guilty conscience. Did they intend to end everything with such a simple apology?

What about the agonizing deaths of so many North Sea people? How would they honor the miserable fate of Han Baek-ha, who had been ridiculed and desecrated?

Under the dimming red of the sunset, Han Seol-baek’s icy aura began to manifest, a chilling power that seemed capable of freezing the entire world.

Tssss—

Clearly, the long years of training with the Ice King had not been in vain, as the cold emanating from Han Seol-baek was truly terrifying.

“Brother, please stop.”

Cho Hwi gently soothed the immense cold in Han Seol-baek’s hand with his mind.

“What are you doing!” Han Seol-baek shouted.

“Seol-pung-han-ga also killed many people from the Central Plains,” Cho Hwi replied with a smile.

“Revenge is forgotten through shared pain.”

His words seemed to resonate deeply with Han Seol-baek’s heart.

However, Han Seol-baek, before being the successor of the Ice Palace, was a North Sea man. The hatred of the North Sea toward the Central Plains was broader than the endless snowfields and sharper than the biting snowstorms.

“We didn’t ask for much, did we?”

He once again released his fierce, enraged gaze toward the Three Heroes of Wunai.

“If you fear the disciples of the Ice Palace so much! We only asked for a small piece of barren grassland for the weak North Sea people—women and children! We did not want your rich southern lands! All we wanted was a handful of barren land! Have you seen the hands of the North Sea children? Those small, delicate hands that dig through frozen, snow-covered ground, only to be met with bruises, blood, and frostbite, never seeing a day without pain! You people of the Central Plains, your Jianghu…!”

From his eyes, which were as cold and blue as the North Sea sky, hot, desperate tears flowed.

“Why, after learning the Confucian Way, were you so heartless… so merciless…?”

His mournful voice pierced the hearts of the Three Heroes of Wunai, slicing them open like sharp knives.

What the North Sea desired was the grassland of the northern Central Plains. But that land was under the control of the orthodox sects.

At the time, the leader of the orthodox sects would never have allowed it. The issue of giving up land was not something that could be decided by personal conscience.

Han Seol-baek belittled that vast land, referring to it as barren, but many Central Plains people lived there, raising livestock to survive. Where there were horses, there were traders and soldiers.

The relationships were so tangled that the lives of countless Central Plains people depended on it. Even though the leader’s heart might be as wide as the sea, no one could easily surrender land to foreign forces.

Just as Han Seol-baek loved the North Sea so much, so did the leader of the orthodox sects love the people of the Central Plains.

Their ideals differed, but neither could be easily dismissed as wrong or evil.

Thus, the battles of human history were inevitable. With as many people as there were on the earth, there were as many definitions of justice. They fought with swords to prove it, and in the end, only one group remained to dominate.

This was the history of the world and the tragedy of humanity.

If we condemn the way of life that has been practiced since the beginning of time, who among us would not feel ashamed?

Therefore, power is but another word for justice, and only the winner rules the world.

Even though they may be criticized, that is the harsh reality of the Jianghu.

No one in the orthodox sects can escape the logic of winner-takes-all.

“Amitabha…”

The Abbot of Fa-chun, still kneeling, stared emptily at Han Seol-baek with sorrowful eyes.

“If we had given a small piece of land to the North Sea people back then… After many years, you would have grown tired of wandering the grasslands with the changing seasons and would have eventually wanted to settle down and farm.”

“…”

The Abbot of Fa-chun gazed toward the southern sky.

“You would have raised horses on that land, fattened them up, and surely, one day, you would have headed south, riding those horses to the fertile lands of the south. Who could have guaranteed you would not have?”

Then, a weak voice from the Grand Hero of Mount Hua joined in.

“For you to point fingers at us and say we don’t understand the teachings of Confucius, the history of our people and the martial world is stained with too much blood.”

Until now, Zhou Hui had been silently listening, but now, with a deeply moved expression, he surveyed everyone.

“I’ve never truly revered or considered the righteous sects as great or noble,” he said. These words, spoken by a descendant of the Sword God, who had always lived without the pride of the righteous path, were hard to believe.

However, upon hearing this, Wu Dang Yi Wu Jian nodded knowingly, as if it were natural.

“I understand,” he said.

But Zhou Hui, with an even more solemn expression, continued to speak with deep emotion.

“However, the Wu Nai San Xie, who have long surpassed the absolute realm and now reach for the Dao of unity with heaven—”

Zhou Hui’s intense gaze turned toward Han Seol Baek.

“If they were to grasp the neck of the descendant of the Bing Gong and eliminate any future threats, rather than boast about their victory…”

Zhou Hui’s usual confidence was slowly bowing towards the three heroes of Wu Nai San Xie, who were still kneeling.

“Having lost their power and family, with nothing left but hatred and resentment, they now bow, asking for forgiveness from these weaklings…”

“Do you see this, Shuo Zuo?” Zhou Hui continued, his voice filled with disbelief.

“Such noble souls, who have not been tainted, have surrendered and given up on the path the human world has walked. I finally understand why you are so afraid of humans.”

With an unprecedented level of courtesy, Zhou Hui respectfully addressed the three heroes of Wu Nai San Xie.

“For the first time, I feel proud of the righteous sects. I sincerely thank the three of you for giving me such a profound understanding of life.”

At times, a person chooses to let go of desire and selfishness and chooses the right path. This is the pure flame of humanity that blossoms even in a chaotic world, amidst the path of martial heroes. This strength, this pure and clear spiritual energy, was something that the Shuo Zuo did not possess.

The unique existence. Though they may shout for their purity, the souls tainted by desire, self-esteem, narcissism, and superiority invoke the disdain of the true universal law.

You, who possess such great strength, are already beyond the true laws of the universe. You are like those who have no hope.

“Zhou Hui!”

Feeling the foreboding, Jin Ga Hui leaped toward Zhou Hui with all her might. Zhou Hui’s entire body was enveloped in a sacred light, and the radiance was so bright that no one dared to look at it.

“Ha!”

In that instant, Zhou Hui trembled as if struck by lightning, emerging from a state of selflessness.

Once again, after three thousand years, he experienced the state of selflessness. A mysterious sensation filled his mind, as if he were becoming someone else.

As he uncovered the secrets of the laws of the world, he felt himself growing farther from humanity. He hated it. He hated it so much.

With a small sigh, Zhou Hui looked at Han Seol Baek.

“Brother, we have lost. The North Sea has lost.”

A brief moment of emptiness passed over Han Seol Baek’s face, but he found it too difficult to accept.

“To say we’ve lost is a bit ridiculous. The target for revenge is already gone. What does winning and losing mean at this point?”

Han Seol Baek knew well. Even if he stood here as the Absolute Ice Man, even if he killed the heroes of the great battle and devoured their blood and flesh, he would only be met with another hell—one filled with regret.

Grudges, as always, are like a foolish wheel. The impartial historians would call this world a foolish place.

Thus, the sages, who realized this early on, hid away in the mountains, performing their sword dances. Was that the only way to soothe their hearts?

At that moment…

Whoosh!

Han Seol Baek’s world began to change. His pure white hair gleamed even brighter, turning silver. The icy energy around him became even more divine and dazzling.

His eyes, once blue, now shimmered with the clarity of glass. His ice energy manifested in perfect harmony with his mind.

With just a reach of his hand, the world would freeze.

Even his breath, infused with willpower, became the absolute northern wind.

Unable to bear the overflowing power within him, Han Seol Baek released a vast, resonant sound from his mouth.

Oooooo!

His beautiful silver hair. That absolute ice energy. With a single motion, he could turn hundreds of miles into a snowfield, like Han Baek Ha. It was as if the North Sea’s legend, the Absolute Ice Man, had been reborn.

Wu Nai San Xie watched this with mixed feelings.

The Absolute Ice Man of the North Sea could not be compared to the great battle heroes of the Central Plains. Before the appearance of the martial gods, all of the central heroes had lost their lives to Han Baek Ha. Now, with the appearance of another Absolute Ice Man, the North Sea would likely soar once again.

However, the prediction of Wu Nai San Xie was entirely wrong.

In this martial world, perhaps there existed a great hero greater than even the Three Gods, the Small Sword God (Xiao Jian Shen).

“Wow! This? What’s going on, brother?”

Han Seol Baek, still stunned, looked around at the transformed world.

“Brother!”

Han Seol Hyun wept, sensing the unimaginable power of ice surrounding her brother.

“Seol Hyun,” Han Seol Baek spoke softly, rubbing her back with a prayer.

Zhou Hui, who had witnessed this change, could not stop praising Han Seol Baek.

“Wow! The Absolute Ice Man! This is incredible!”

With such powerful ice energy, it was likely that half of Poyang Lake would be frozen in an instant.

Zhuge Yun approached, smiling broadly.

“Now, our Zhou family is completely free from worries about the ice!”

“Yep! Absolutely!”

This was why Zhou Hui was so overjoyed! As they say, “One who associates with the ink becomes black.”

Having spent a long time with Cho Hwi, even the once-noble Je Galyun now seemed to have lost his composure.

Han Seolbaek looked up at the sky, tears welling up in his eyes.

The night sky was now fully enveloped in darkness, with stars shining brightly.

Han Baekha, the former patriarch.

There was no portrait left to show her striking appearance, but somehow, her face seemed to be drawn in the night sky.

The smile of Han Baekha that appeared in his mind resembled that of his mother’s.

“Patriarch…”

Even though she had suffered such shame when stripped bare in the past, was she now forgiving them with that same smile?

Is she demanding the same broad acceptance from her descendants, like the vast snowfields of the North Sea?

Han Seolbaek, still kneeling and waiting for judgment, sighed deeply toward the three Supreme Masters of the North Sea.

“Sigh… the North Sea…”

The noise in the room began to settle.

Everyone in the room stared intently at Han Seolbaek’s mouth.

“I will no longer make an issue of the past grudges between the Central Plains and us.”

Cho Hwi, with a beaming expression, pulled Han Seolbaek into a tight embrace.

“Well done! Well done, Brother!”

Thus, Han Seolbaek also bloomed the “flower of humanity.”

He had become a soul so pure and untainted, one that even the distant authorities feared.

Mu Huang let out a hearty laugh.

“Haha! Finally, the end of the Great Outer War!”

Indeed, today marked the true end of the Great Outer War.

Cho Hwi’s eyes sparkled, and he joyfully commanded the chief overseer.

“Chief Overseer! Bring all the Snowflake Spirits from the warehouse! The Cho family’s gathering begins now! For three days, let us feast!”

Jang Ilryong grinned broadly, clearly pleased.

“Well done! Truly well done! The Ice Deity… no, the Supreme Ice Deity!”

Cho Hwi silently gazed at the warm scene unfolding before him.

The two—Nam Gungjangho and Kang Biwoo—glared at each other while stubbornly arguing that their methods were correct and debating with swords.

Han Seolhyun blinked, unable to believe the transformation in Cheon Byeonhyulhou Baekhwarin, who now seemed like a completely different person.

Han Seolbaek was immersed in the world of thought he had entered, enjoying the clarity of the ice crystals he had summoned from the moisture in the air.

Jin Gahui clapped her hands in admiration, dazzled by the brilliance of the ice crystals.

Jang Ilryong, with his shirt off, gulped down drink after drink from a large jug, surrounded by cheers from Yeom Sangrok and Je Galyun.

In this place, there was no concept of “right” or “wrong,” no hierarchy in the martial world.

Just like those who were joyfully exchanging drinks in the present moment, would the martial world, too, be able to let go of all grudges and interests, and unite in harmony?

Mu Huang, watching this scene by Cho Hwi’s side, seemed to be filled with conflicting emotions.

“The martial world of the Small Sword God…”

The center of all these young people’s focus was Cho Hwi.

From the perspective of an ordinary martial artist, such a scene was unimaginable.

Yet, Mu Huang did not want to avert his gaze from this sight.

“Well, has your resolve now finally solidified?”

“Are you asking about the leader?”

“Yes.”

Cho Hwi chuckled softly.

“From the start, Mu Huang, you had already set everything up. Was there really any way I could refuse? I heard you’ve already started printing the revised *Martial World Chronicles*, right?”

Mu Huang nodded silently.

“When the execution of Heukcheon Daesal happens, the revised *Martial World Chronicles* will spread across the world. Your fame will become the greatest in the land. You’ll be treated as a living god.”

The new legend of the Small Sword God would shine so brightly, it might feel like the myth of a hero.

Because of the unparalleled authority of the *Martial World Chronicles*, Cho Hwi’s influence would be so overwhelming that it could dictate the rise and fall of entire sects with just his reputation.

Suddenly, Cho Hwi voiced his doubts.

“How do you think they will respond? The Martial Union, I mean?”

“Knowing the chief’s temperament, they’ll definitely resort to sabotage. They might question your legitimacy and use that young man from the North Sea to shake the foundation.”

Cho Hwi frowned.

“The historical heroes who broke their seclusion have already expressed their apologies toward the North Sea. Considering the reputation of the Three Supreme Masters, this should be neatly resolved… or not?”

Mu Huang smiled bitterly.

“You’re underestimating the chief. The first thing he’ll do is plant seeds of doubt among the righteous sects. Can we really trust the Three Supreme Masters? Even if they became white bones a hundred years ago, no one would challenge it.”

“But if those elders reveal their identities, it will be proven immediately, won’t it?”

Mu Huang sighed in frustration.

“Do you think anyone who knows of the Three Supreme Masters’ appearance and identity is still alive? Besides, all the senior figures of the time are already allied with them.”

“Ah…”

For a moment, Cho Hwi wore a dejected expression, then, with a feeling of disbelief, he asked again.

“Are you saying we truly have no allies? After all, you are Mu Huang, aren’t you? Your influence should still extend far and wide.”

“None. A few old men, including Man Bakja, are all that’s left.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

Mu Huang’s authority was absolute within the righteous sects.

How could such overwhelming authority and fame vanish overnight?

“That’s why I feel like I’m going crazy. If I had known the answer, I wouldn’t have come to you asking to start a new Martial Union.”

“Wait…”

Cho Hwi tried to protest, but quickly closed his mouth.

“Instead, the Cho family will be branded as traitors colluding with the outer regions. The chief will surely use the false fame of the Three Supreme Masters, who are supposed to be dead, to stir up the righteous sects.”

“That’s insane!”

Mu Huang’s gaze grew incredibly serious.

“That’s why you must become a sanctuary, one with absolute fame that no one can easily undermine. That’s why the Martial World Chronicles is so important.”

Cho Hwi sank into deep thought, his expression slowly turning strange.

What would he do in such a situation?

If the chief of the Martial Union was someone as cunning as he seemed, before trying to destroy the Small Sword God, he would first take certain actions.

“To legitimize the new leader’s authority, wouldn’t Mu Huang, rather than me, be the first target?”

“……”

The righteous sects valued honor above life.

Especially for someone as noble and renowned as Mu Huang, who was a senior figure of the martial world, the chief’s schemes to slander him would be hard to tolerate.

“I have a daughter.”

“You’re referring to Mu Hua Bu Yong?”

As soon as Mu Huang mentioned his daughter, Cho Hwi immediately had a thought.

“Wait… Could it really be…?”

Mu Hua Bu Yong, Mu Huang’s daughter, was tragically in a state of insanity.

Her former husband, Ok Gi Rin, was a man with a dual personality, who had deceived the world for a long time with his heinous actions, which had shocked everyone at the time.

In the end, Mu Hua Bu Yong, unable to bear the shame, had tried to end her life, but after failing with poison, she was left in a state of madness.

The family of Ok Gi Rin, the Huangshan Zhang family, had been nearly wiped out, but over time, it had recovered some of its former power.

The cunning and calculating chief would certainly find a way to use the insanity of Mu Hua Bu Yong for his own purposes.

“That bastard…!”

Mu Huang’s indifferent gaze cut through the air.

“Our Lye Ah is unable to speak due to her madness, but that bastard can still explain himself. The chief will likely blame all of Ok Gi Rin’s immoral actions on Lye Ah, stirring up gossip about my family’s private matters.”

Cho Hwi, as though filled with rage, seemed ready to unsheathe his sword.

“Let’s go right now. Even the Martial Union won’t stand a chance against me now.”

“Of course, you could deal a heavy blow, but immediately, the Small Sword God would become the Small Sword Demon. Your reputation would plummet to the ground. The achievements of the martial world would be nothing more than a bonus.”

“……”

A fleeting look of despair passed over Mu Huang’s face.

“The righteous sects don’t operate solely on the logic of power. Do you even know how many absolute masters are hidden in the heart of each faction, like the Three Supreme Masters? Or do you think you can first face off against the Purple Cloud Sword Saint?”

The number one seat of the Eight Immortal Swords, a peerless figure who had reached a level of mastery that made him the greatest in the world.

In the past, Cho Hwi, having trained his mind for three thousand years, would have been confident in easily overpowering him.

However, facing such a figure with noble character as an enemy didn’t sit well with him.

“Don’t underestimate the long history and strength of the Nine Great Factions. The moment you give them a reason, you’ll have to fight against the entire world. Remember that even the great Demon Sect, with its absolute power, has never successfully conquered the Central Plains.”

If the righteous sects had only relied on the logic of power, then the Shaolin sect would have ruled the martial world long ago.

At the height of Shaolin’s power, they were stronger than all the other sects combined.

However, they never ruled through force. Instead, they sacrificed, endured, and gave to ensure the peace of the martial world.

No matter how weak they became or how much they were mocked, the Northern Shaolin and Southern Wudang would remain eternal.

The sacrifices and endurance they had gone through to build their timeless reputation were beyond imagination.

Considering that the Wudang sect, not the Hwasan sect, produced the current leader of the Martial Union, it was clear that the righteous sects could not simply be explained by the logic of power.

“So, how should we respond?”

While Cho Hwi chewed on his lips, pondering, Mu Huang smiled warmly.

“I had other expectations for you.”

“Other expectations?”

“You’ve been pressuring them in a way that the righteous martial world has never encountered before.”

“……What?”

Cho Hwi followed Mu Huang’s gaze.

He was looking out over the vast scenery of the Cho family’s gathering in the outer regions.

“The history of the Central Plains, up until now, has been a mix of flourishing peace times where culture prospered and turbulent eras dominated by martial strength. But commerce has been neglected. It’s something essential and familiar to us, yet it’s strangely been looked down upon.”

“Mm…”

“Up until now, the merchants in the Central Plains,” Mu Huang continued, “have been the ones who’ve constantly bowed their heads. They survive by lowering themselves to the officials and bending to the martial artists, the lowest of the low. They had no choice but to live that way, through centuries of submission.”

Cho Hwi had also noticed this. He had met many merchants over the years, and despite holding immense wealth and having the power to influence the world, they behaved strangely submissively to the strong. Yet, to the weak, they were far more ruthless than the King of Hell.

Cho Hwi had never been fond of the behavior of these merchants.

“However, you, despite presenting yourself as a merchant rather than a martial artist, never bow down. Your approach to life isn’t simply because you’re strong. There’s something else, something different… Yes, it’s a different value system from ours.”

Cho Hwi’s previous life was that of a modern man. He had lived in a global era ruled by commerce, not by culture or martial power.

The world had experienced the horrors of the First and Second World Wars, which had brutally demonstrated how destructive human conflict could be. Tens of millions of people had died in those wars, making them the most devastating conflicts in human history.

The birth of nuclear weapons, capable of wiping out humanity several times over, had marked the end of the era of martial dominance. Instead, the global economy was born on the ruins of these wars.

Rather than mutual destruction through nuclear war, humanity had opted for a proxy war of cutthroat capitalism.

Cho Hwi had experienced this global economy firsthand, with elite corporations vying for dominance. It was no wonder that his way of thinking was vastly different from the people of the Central Plains.

“Even the dangerous underground world only exerts its power in the shadows, never stepping into the open. We’ve never seen a merchant wield their wealth with such abandon,” Mu Huang observed.

Could it be that the modern concept of economics seemed so dangerous to the people of the Central Plains?

It was hard to accept, but since it was Mu Huang speaking, Cho Hwi had no choice but to listen carefully.

“The chief of the Martial Union, who had been observing the rise of the Cho Merchant Association in the regions of Heifei and Jiangxi, said this: ‘This isn’t the way of the merchants of the Central Plains. Your approach to wealth is like that of a wild beast.’”

Cho Hwi had recruited talented individuals through headhunting.

He lured outstanding merchants with high salaries, and those who couldn’t be bought were enticed with the bright future and unique authority offered by the Cho Merchant Association.

He had merged companies through hostile takeovers (M&A), using his vast financial power to crush competitors and force them to submit.

This method, however, was unprecedented in the Central Plains, where values like propriety and reputation were paramount.

Merchants in the Central Plains respected each other’s domains. They valued honor and reputation, so the very thought of poaching talented people from other businesses was unheard of. Doing so would inevitably result in public scorn.

New businesses usually had to go around to each faction, ask for permission, and pay tribute before securing a place to operate.

Cho Hwi, however, had bypassed all these “rules” and built the Cho Merchant Association through headhunting and hostile takeovers, shaping it into what it was now.

Having lived through the fierce competition of the modern era, Cho Hwi appeared as a figure from an entirely different world to the people of the Central Plains.

Mu Huang spoke again with a confident tone.

“The wealth of the Small Sword God. That, more than even the martial prowess that has reached divine levels, will be the true power that will leave the chief of the Martial Union bewildered.”

* * *

A month later.

After barely escaping the Cho Merchant Association’s vast net and enduring numerous hardships, the unfortunate Black Sky Slayer was finally captured by the Sichuan Association and publicly executed in front of a large crowd.

Although they could have demanded the return of Black Sky Slayer, claiming him as their prisoner, the Cho Merchant Association, considering the long-standing enmity between the Black Sky League and the Sichuan Association, chose to remain silent, showing extraordinary audacity.

Moved by this, the head of the Sichuan Association, Sa Huang Dogo Jangcheon, personally oversaw the execution under the name of the Small Sword God, in an unimaginable act.

Until now, there had been no case of a demonic figure hosting such an event to uphold the honor and face of the righteous sects.

Demonic factions were cruel and wicked, but they always respected the power dynamics and the logic of strength when dealing with the powerful.

Thus, by putting the honor of the Small Sword God ahead of the name of the head of the Sichuan Association, it could only be seen as either a sign of respect for the Cho Merchant Association’s influence or, perhaps, a gesture of submission.

Naturally, the martial world now saw the Cho Merchant Association in a completely new light.

Up until this point, the Cho Merchant Association had been primarily seen as a business entity, but after this event, it had firmly established itself as a new force, a rising power in the southern regions of the Yangtze.

The Jiangnan region had traditionally been under the strong influence of the demonic factions. Yet, not only had the Cho Merchant Association emerged as a powerful faction in this land, but it had even gained the respect of the Sichuan Association, a group of formidable enemies. The fame of the Small Sword God could only rise higher from this point onward.

As expected, the righteous sects turned their attention fully to the Martial Union.

Although no one directly spoke out, everyone knew that the new Martial Emperor bearing the surname Zhuge signified rebellion.

Whether the new Martial Emperor would accept or reject the Small Sword God’s actions would determine the power structure of the martial world, so everyone was on edge, awaiting developments.

However, before any official word from the Martial Union could be heard, an even more bewildering event occurred.

The revised edition of the “Wandering Martial World”, which had not been updated for years, was published and began to be printed.

The contents were in stark contrast to the usual tone of the “Wandering Martial World,” causing great confusion among martial artists.

The new edition was advocating for a new era with the Xeiwei regions, calling for peace. This was utterly unbelievable given the previous harsh criticism of the Xeiwei by the author, Man Baekja.

Surprisingly, Man Baekja claimed the existence of the Three Alliances and detailed the reconciliation between them and the descendants of Binggung, which had occurred at the Cho Merchant Association.

This peace was mediated by none other than the Small Sword God and the former Martial Emperor, Cheong Yunjin.

The peace agreement, which had been solemnly validated by their names, guaranteed an unbreakable truce with the Xeiwei.

This was a stunning shift, disregarding the deep animosity of the past. The memory of the Xeiwei War was still vivid in the minds of many martial artists.

Naturally, many righteous sects could not accept the publication, even though it came from the trusted “Wandering Martial World.” However, the fact that the Three Alliances themselves were involved in the peace was disorienting.

To the righteous sects, the idea of legendary heroes like the Three Alliances returning from myth was deeply exciting, yet difficult to believe. They grew eager to confirm the truth of the published details.

It was a legend that humans could live for over three hundred years, one that had only been passed down through books and stories.

Given the high credibility of the “Wandering Martial World,” it was more likely to be true than false.

If Man Baekja’s announcement was true, it would mean that the martial world was witnessing the return of legendary heroes, a mythological event.

For those who had grown up listening to stories of these great heroes, it was more than strange not to be excited at this possibility.

Of course, the Martial Union’s response was exactly as Mu Huang had predicted.

The new Martial Emperor, Zhuge Myunghyun, publicly rejected the “Wandering Martial World” and declared that it would not be acknowledged by the martial world.

He denounced the publication as a baseless story meant to confuse and disturb the martial world and declared it a forbidden text for the righteous sects.

This was an act of self-denial by the Zhuge family, discrediting their own famous legacy, and naturally, it stunned the righteous sects.

However, the new Martial Emperor’s proclamation was not entirely without merit.

The return of heroes from hundreds of years ago was indeed an unbelievable claim.

With all eyes on the Cho Merchant Association, the inevitable happened.

* * *

When the Small Sword God appeared at Lake Hoyeon, near Poyang Lake, with a group of followers, people naturally expected him to clarify the truth of the “Wandering Martial World.”

He stood silently for three days, and soon martial artists from the surrounding areas gathered, filling the area with a sea of people.

Then, suddenly, the Small Sword God pushed the crowd back by three hundred paces and took to the skies on his sword.

The sight of him flying on his sword, which had only been spoken of in legends, caused gasps of astonishment.

“Oh my god…”

“To think I would see someone flying on a sword in person…”

Meanwhile, the companions of Cho Hwi, standing a distance away, exchanged puzzled expressions.

“Wait… is he actually planning to do it?”

“Are you serious? After seeing him crush the Black Sky League with his sword’s qi, you’re still questioning him?”

Zhuge Yun shook his head.

“This is different. Why would he make people wait for three days and gather them just to demonstrate his martial arts? This isn’t just about showing off his skills.”

“Exactly. Why does he need to show something like that? Honestly, I think…”

Although Yeom Sangrok prided himself on being open-minded, Cho Hwi’s actions were beyond his understanding.

What could the Small Sword God, leader of a powerful faction, possibly be trying to achieve by doing this?

“Is the Small Sword God about to demonstrate swordplay?”

The curious crowd, unable to hold back their questions, began asking Cho Hwi’s companions what was happening.

The answer was yet to be revealed.

A faint tremor began beneath the feet of the people.

At first, they couldn’t comprehend that it was caused by a swordsman gathering his inner energy.

High above in the distant sky, as the Small Sword God’s body began to glow with an indescribable, brilliant aura, they quickly realized that this phenomenon was the result of his actions.

In that instant, the Small Sword God’s steel sword moved slowly.

It was a simple strike, but when the deafening sound of a shattered airwave followed, everyone could feel the tremendous power packed into that single move.

The Small Sword God’s strike hit the vast Hoyeon Plain directly.

*Boom!*

It was as if an earthquake had shaken the land. The earth trembled violently, leaving a long gash across the plain, as if scraped by a massive iron chain.

“Wow…!”

“The Small Sword God’s fame is truly well-deserved!”

The crowd of martial artists, clearly moved by the extraordinary demonstration of swordsmanship, praised the Small Sword God continuously. However, the companions of Cho Hwi, who had been anxiously waiting, hung their heads in embarrassment.

“That madman… he actually went through with it…”

“He’s completely insane!”

But that was just the beginning.

As the Small Sword God’s sword swung again, another tremendous roar erupted.

*Boom!*

*Rumble…*

“Wow!”

“Ahh…!”

The Small Sword God’s strike showed no signs of stopping.

*Boom!*

“Ahhh!”

“What is this?!”

It was only then that people began to realize something was going wrong.

As many struggled to maintain their footing, they looked to Cho Hwi’s companions for an explanation.

“Hey, heroes of the Cho Merchant Association, what exactly is the Small Sword God doing?”

While all the companions avoided the questioning stares, only Jang Il-ryong proudly raised his chin and spoke in a serious tone.

“My brother is currently laying the foundation to build the first ten-story temple in the Central Plains!”

That statement made everyone’s ears doubt what they had just heard.

“A ten-story temple?”

“Impossible!”

To the people of the time, a building of such unprecedented height was beyond imagination.

“How can that be possible? The highest building in history, the Heavenly Imperial Hall in Hangzhou, is only six stories!”

“Exactly! This is nonsense!”

Jang Il-ryong, with his chest puffed out proudly, explained further.

“Heh, you all think the Cho Merchant Association is a joke? Let me tell you, it will be made entirely of steel!”

People’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Steel?”

“Are you really going to build it out of steel?”

“Yes! That’s why the temple will be so heavy. If there’s any large stone or underground hollow, we’ll fill it in with our special material, the Tough Soil, to solidify the foundation!”

“……”

“……”

Was this really just a “project” to remove large stones or underground voids?

People present had seen workers leveling land before construction, but to see such thorough groundwork being done—digging down into a pit—was unheard of.

What was even more astonishing was that it was the esteemed swordsman doing this work, something even the lowliest laborers would do.

Moreover, this was being done with the martial skills of a top-tier expert from the Eight Martial Sits?

For the people of this time, this scene was a complete collapse of their common sense and values.

It was like imagining the legendary martial arts of the Taoist and Huoshan sects being used to plow fields.

*Boom!*

As the Small Sword God struck again, a large rock hidden underground was shattered as if it were crushed, scattering in all directions, quickly turning into gravel.

Then, workers, or rather, “laborers,” who had been waiting nearby, swiftly moved toward the newly-formed pile of gravel with astonishing speed.

“Wait, those aren’t just regular workers!”

One man among the crowd, shocked, looked at Jang Il-ryong.

“That’s right! Those workers are all martial artists! They are the remnants of the Black Sky League, who have gained new lives thanks to our brother!”

The man stood frozen in disbelief.

These pitiful-looking workers were once members of the brutal and terrifying Black Sky League?

The speed at which they moved, scooping up gravel as if they were lightning, was beyond belief, even as the crowd watched with their own eyes.

Once the carts filled with gravel moved away, the Small Sword God’s powerful sword strike reverberated once more.

*Boom!*

As the underground cavity was struck, it collapsed inward, causing the surrounding dirt to be sucked in like a desert sinkhole.

If this soft soil filled the cavity, groundwater would quickly cause it to collapse again.

The Small Sword God, high above, slowly gestured, and the workers who had been waiting below began to move.

Upon closer inspection, the workers were carrying enormous sacks filled with Tough Soil.

It was hard to imagine how a human could carry such large sacks, yet they were none other than the Black Sky League’s elite killers.

They could never have imagined that their formidable martial prowess would be used to carry sacks.

As these “sack carriers” began to march in perfect formation like ants, another group of workers appeared around the collapsed area, using their exceptional martial skills to move with lightning speed.

Each of them carried large shovels on their backs, looking remarkably dignified.

The blades of these shovels were so wide they seemed almost impossible to use effectively.

But they were the remnants of the Black Sky League.

As they moved, it became clear that these workers were about to break all common sense in the field of civil engineering in the Central Plains.

With the workers relentlessly digging, the Small Sword God looked down from above with the gaze of a master overseeing the project.