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The person spewing these vicious curses non-stop was Yang Gi-gang. Though his pronunciation was impaired due to his badly broken teeth, he continued to pour out endless resentment and maledictions.

“…I’ll break every joint in his body. He’ll be begging and whimpering.”

Yang Gi-gang abandoned himself to rage, as if he had given up all hope.

The maid attending to him beside him didn’t dare to breathe loudly.

It wasn’t because of the pungent medicinal scent emanating from the bandages tightly wrapped around his limbs. Nor was it due to those terrible curses and imprecations.

There was a rumor that the previous maid who had attended to Yang Gi-gang had her throat ripped out and killed by him. Her corpse was said to have been secretly disposed of by the estate’s guards.

She too would die if she made even the slightest mistake… No, even without a mistake, she would die the moment she irritated Yang Gi-gang’s eyes.

She was terrified. She feared that these curses and imprecations would be directed at her, accompanied by the words, “You crazy bitch! Are you looking down on me too?”

Fortunately, before that could happen, Yang Gi-cheol entered.

“Leave us.”

“Yes, sir.”

At the door, the maid prayed fervently. Please, let Yang Gi-gang be dead when she returned.

But that wouldn’t happen. A skilled physician was treating him with the finest medicines, after all.

Yang Gi-gang looked up at Yang Gi-cheol with sorrowful eyes.

“…Father.”

However, the eyes looking down at his son were colder than ever.

“You foolish boy. To think you’d be defeated by such a lowly bastard.”

Yang Gi-gang choked up for a moment.

“That bastard…!”

He was about to say that the opponent was much stronger than expected, but he quickly closed his mouth. Anything he said now would sound like an excuse.

“Please kill Byeok Ri-dan! And the bitch who bore him too, no, just wipe out the entire Byeok Clan Sword Manor!”

In normal circumstances, this would be the moment to scold one’s son.

But would the behavior shown at the Byeok Clan Sword Manor earlier change just because they had returned home?

“That’s the plan.”

He couldn’t forget the look in Byeok Dojun’s eyes as he dismissed him that day. And it happened in front of all his subordinates.

‘How dare he disrespect me?’

Contempt, more than any other malice, is not easily forgotten.

‘The likes of him! Not even among the top ten in Shandong!’

Even if Yang Gi-gang hadn’t begged, he would have taken the initiative to kill them. Even if he couldn’t collect the money, he would collect their lives.

Sensing his father’s anger, Yang Gi-gang exclaimed excitedly.

“Send the main branch’s warriors right away and sweep them away in one fell swoop!”

“You fool! They’ll be prepared for that, and our main branch would suffer too many casualties.”

Above all, there was no justification to attack them. Starting a war over children’s squabbles? Aside from criticism, it could become a matter of public concern in the martial world. No matter how angry he was, he still had that much sense left.

“That’s why I called for someone.”

Yang Gi-gang’s expression brightened as he guessed who it might be.

“You called for the Blood Hound?”

Yang Gi-cheol nodded. Like the anger of a petty man unaware he had already been devoured, his smile reeked of a base bloodthirst.

“They must pay the price for crossing me.”

***

Gwang-du and I were in a rattling carriage. We were heading towards Dongping, where the Yang Minor Faction was located.

We could have traveled faster on horseback, but we rented a carriage for Gwang-du, who wasn’t yet accustomed to riding. Fortunately, being a few hours late wasn’t a major concern in this situation.

Thud thud thud thud thud.

The scenery outside the window was passing by quickly.

It had been about twenty days since my reincarnation, but there was still no news about my death.

I even checked to see if I had been reincarnated in a different era. But that wasn’t the case. I had been reincarnated on the exact day I died.

Considering the importance of the Alliance Leader’s death, it was understandable so far. It would be a problem if the announcement was delayed beyond a month, two months, or three months.

“Do you perhaps have some hidden money stashed away?”

“Was I that kind of person? Saving up about twenty thousand nyang on the battlefield.”

Gwang-du sighed.

“Of course not.”

“Then I don’t have any.”

Someone might ask, “Shouldn’t someone who’s lived as an Alliance Leader for over thirty years have at least a few tens of thousands of nyang?” Or, “Shouldn’t they have at least one secret account in the Continental Bank?”

To conclude, I don’t.

From a young age, I was obsessed only with martial arts. Defeating opponents and growing stronger was my only joy. In the joy of becoming stronger, gold was no more than a pebble to me.

After becoming the Alliance Leader, I didn’t particularly need money. Would I buy clothes? Would I buy food? If I needed money for something essential, the Treasury Hall[1] would bring it to me.

If I had decided to hoard money then, I could have amassed not just a few ten thousand nyang, but hundreds of thousands.

But I didn’t. Rather, I felt indebted to the Martial Righteous Alliance.

Living as the Alliance Leader, there was an enormous investment in me. Just the elixirs I consumed were worth an incalculable amount of money.

Of course, at the time, it was a strategic decision by the Alliance to help me defeat the Thirteen Dark Paths Alliance and the Blood Heavens Divine Cult. Whatever the reason, thanks to that, I was able to attain the incredible internal energy of four Gapja (One Gapja = 60 years). I thought that was enough.

“By the way, what book have you been reading so intently?”

He seemed curious about the book I had been reading since we boarded the carriage.

I lifted the book I was holding to show him the cover.

“The White Moon Sword Arts[2]? Gasp!”

Gwang-du, startled, whispered.

“Isn’t this the Master’s exclusive martial art?”

I also lowered my voice and asked.

“That’s right. But why are we suddenly whispering?”

“Because it’s a precious martial art. What if the coachman outside hears?”

“Don’t you think this actually makes us look more suspicious?”

“Ah.”

This time, Gwang-du spoke loud enough for the coachman to hear.

“Haha, the White Moon Sword Arts is nothing special, you know.”

“I’m going to tell Father everything.”

“Oh, why are you being like this, Young Master! The White Moon Sword Arts is the most excellent sword technique in the world!”

“Going back and forth like this will really make us look suspicious.”

“What am I supposed to do!”

My honest opinion about the White Moon Sword Arts is this:

‘Not bad.’

I’m certainly not dismissing the White Moon Sword Arts. It’s just that my level of martial arts is exceptionally high. If I were to evaluate it, it would be considered a mid-to-high level martial art, but the reason I’m trying to learn this family technique is to conceal my original divine martial arts.

“But is it okay to just carry around something so precious like this?”

“It’s a handwritten copy. Father keeps the original separately.”

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

“What if someone steals this manual and learns it?”

“Yes, that’s exactly it.”

“Without knowing the unique mental cultivation method for using the White Moon Sword Arts, this alone is useless.”

“Ah, I see.”

When I received the handwritten copy from Father, saying I would read it again while practicing, I also read the mental cultivation manual once. Of course, it was just an excuse to read it properly.

With that one reading, I was able to memorize all the verses of the mental cultivation manual. Not only had my memory become abnormally good, but the content itself wasn’t that difficult.

Originally, using two mental cultivation methods is taboo. If done incorrectly, one could fall into qi deviation.

Of course, that applies to ordinary martial artists, and it doesn’t apply to me.

Unless it’s an extremely advanced mental cultivation method comparable to my Heavenly Martial Heart-Guarding Technique, I could easily learn and use a mental cultivation method needed for the White Moon Sword Arts.

Anyway, for the time being, I plan to use the White Moon Sword Arts when others are watching.

“It’s strange to see the Young Master reading something. The only reading in the Young Master’s life was the menu at taverns and the attendance sheets of courtesans.”

I suddenly asked, peering over the manual.

“Do you want to learn martial arts?”

Gwang-du flinched.

“No.”

“Your answer was a bit slow.”

“No, it’s not. What martial arts for someone like me?”

“What’s wrong with someone like you? Even a guy like Yang Gi-gang learns martial arts.”

“Well, he was born into a good family. He probably had good masters since childhood.”

“The most important thing in becoming a martial artist is neither family nor master.”

After a brief pause, Gwang-du asked.

“Then what’s important?”

When I withheld my answer, he started to find the answer himself.

“Innate talent? Physique? Or is it something like willpower? Ah, it’s effort, right? That’s it, right?”

“There’s something more important.”

“So what is it?”

“Fate.”

“What kind of fate?”

“The fate with the martial world.”

Gwang-du’s eyes widened. He blinked a few times, then pouted.

“Come on, what’s that? If you don’t want to tell me, just say so.”

Gwang-du grumbled that I had asked a question without an answer in the first place, but I was sincere.

I believe that the most important thing for someone who wants to become a martial artist is fate.

Without a connection to the martial world, one dies early. If there’s no good fate, there should at least be an ill fate. If you plunge in without either, you’ll live like a bystander or meet an unintended end.

Gwang-du, who had been looking at the scenery outside the carriage, asked after a while.

“How do you know if you have a fate?”

Beyond the rapidly passing scenery, a rouge-colored sunset was spreading.

“I don’t know either.”