Chapter 547
A cold silence fell over the conference room.
To be honest, it was a reaction I’d expected even before speaking.
And among the dozens gathered here, I also knew exactly who would be the first to lash out at me.
“Are you seriously calling that a statement?”
They never stray from the obvious.
I clicked my tongue inwardly at the middle-aged man with graying hair who spoke as if he’d been waiting for this moment.
I already knew his name and position. He glared at me so much during the last meeting that I’d wondered who the hell he was—turns out, we had an indirect connection.
‘Blood doesn’t lie.’
As expected of a father and son—they sure do look alike. The sharp, raised eyes, the arrogant gaze and speech that belittle others.
“Seems like you didn’t hear me.”
The gray-haired middle-aged man, Hwangbo Gun, patriarch of the Hwangbo Clan and father of Hwangbo Ak—the Fist Dragon of Shandong—spoke.
I slowly blinked.
“Of course I heard you. How could I not?”
“Then why didn’t you respond?”
“Because the question was ridiculous. I said it, so obviously I thought it was a proper statement. What, did I bark like a beast or something?”
Cheongpung, sitting next to me, perked up his ears.
“Benefactor, can you really make those kinds of sounds too?”
“Shut up, Young Master Cheong, unless you want to puke up the dumplings in your belly.”
“Thank you……”
Hwangbo Gun’s face twisted in disgust at the exchange.
“Do you not realize what kind of place this is?!”
“Did anyone come here not knowing?”
“And yet, in front of such distinguished seniors, you spout such crude and thoughtless remarks!”
“That’s why I didn’t want to say it. But we should also hear what the seniors think. What are your thoughts?”
At my sudden question, Ma Jong-hak nodded.
“The young pavillion leader has a point. I don’t really care. His words were harsh, but someone needs to face reality.”
“L-Lord Mengju!”
Hwangbo Gun cried out in flustered protest, which I swiftly cut off.
“Yes, thank you for the wise words, Lord Mengju. While we’re at it, how about our esteemed Five Kings Hall Lord?”
Jeok Cheon-Gang looked at Hwangbo Gun as if he were a bug.
“What the hell are you asking for? Of course we’re screwed. Ignore that brat’s nonsense and move on.”
“Thanks for the blunt answer.”
I turned my head and shrugged at Hwangbo Gun.
“You heard them. Those seniors you so admire have spoken.”
There were certainly many people present who could be called seniors, but none could compare to Jeok Cheon-Gang or Ma Jong-hak.
If the leaders of the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Clans were considered squad leaders, then Ma Jong-hak, as the Murim Alliance Leader, would be the commander, and Jeok Cheon-Gang the senior master sergeant.
‘If your rank is low, shut up.’
And in this case, it wasn’t just about rank. Even without titles, one hit from Fire King’s flaming fist would be enough to flatten you.
This was precisely why people like the Sect Leader of Zhongnan Sect, who openly disliked Cheongpung and me, kept their mouths tightly shut.
It also meant that Hwangbo Gun had become completely isolated.
‘Know your place before stretching your legs. Why the hell would you stick your neck out like that?’
I’d heard that Hwangbo Gun used to be quite a figure during the Great War of Justice and Evil. Maybe he’s just politically inept, or maybe he’s become an out-of-control freight train because it involves his only son.
I hummed a melancholy tune.
“I am a firefly, with no friends at all.”
“Y-You insolent brat!”
I wasn’t done yet. Time to deliver the finishing combo I’d prepared.
“Hmm? I’m just a baby pavillion leader.”
“Y-You bastard—!”
Crash!
He leapt to his feet, veins bulging from his clenched fist.
And right at that moment, just as Hwangbo Gun glared at me with fury, unable to gain or recover anything—
“Ahem. If I may, Patriarch Hwangbo, may I ask just one question?”
A sudden voice cut through.
It was gentle, yet carried a firm undertone.
Jin Wi-gyeong’s eyes, now calmly locked on Hwangbo Gun, were ice-cold.
“I ask you this: what is your current position within the Murim Alliance?”
Me?
“Even if the Fire Dragon Pavilion Lord is young, he is still the successor of the great Fire King Jeok Cheon-Gang and a legitimate Pavilion Lord of the Murim Alliance. Based on Kangho’s hierarchy, he’s not beneath you.”
Right on the mark. Hwangbo Gun’s face stiffened at the hit to his pride.
Though he was the patriarch of the Hwangbo Clan, rulers of the Shandong region, he only served as the external unit leader, tasked with regional defense.
So technically, within the Murim Alliance hierarchy, he was beneath an internal Pavilion Lord like me.
He couldn’t say a word. His lips clamped shut, and he bit down hard.
He looked around, searching for someone to back him up.
But unlike what he’d hoped, everyone’s reactions toward him were lukewarm at best.
“Amitabha. Perhaps it’s best to hold your tongue, Brother Hwangbo.”
“Sigh, such commotion in the sacred Council Hall…”
“We are not taking sides here. Both have said enough. Please, let us return to our seats.”
I replied casually.
“I never stood up in the first place.”
“Then only one remains.”
It was obvious who they meant.
Hwangbo Gun stood torn between reason—telling him to stop—and his pride as both the head of a major clan and ruler of a region.
And just then, a single phrase flew in to end his indecision.
“Did you shove a nail in your ear?”
Fire King Jeok Cheon-Gang. The air in the chamber ignited at his short remark.
In the reflection of his crimson glowing eyes, Hwangbo Gun stood frozen.
“Sit down. Now.”
Fwoooosh!
The surge of energy rushing through the air made everyone’s eyes widen.
“Hngh…”
Fist King Eon Hwapyeong, who had been silently observing, let out a pained groan.
“Y-You bastard of the Jeok Clan…!”
The Thunderblade King Paeng Cheolhu’s gaze rippled.
That was how overwhelming Jeok Cheon-Gang’s presence was—he radiated like another sun.
Even those still in the Peak Realm and those who had already surpassed it could feel his power.
‘Reversed Aging.’
The path of martial arts is a vast and treacherous mountain range. At times, one must cross steep valleys and scale sheer cliffs.
And Jeok Cheon-Gang… stood tall on a peak at the end of it all—a true master.
At this point, he had become something greater than just the Fire King. And there was one other like him in this very hall.
“Sir Jeok.”
The soft voice of Sword Saint Ma Jong-hak rang out, and with it, the scorching winds that had swept the conference hall vanished.
Jeok Cheon-Gang immediately reeled in his aura and grumbled.
“Did something happen?”
“Hm…”
“I get it. Alright. The brat was being noisy, so I gave him a little scare, that’s all.”
He wasn’t joking. A second scare and that man might’ve pissed himself.
‘That brat,’ as Jeok Cheon-Gang called him, was already sitting down, face pale as a ghost.
“It’s finally quiet.”
Ma Jong-hak gave him a soft reproachful look and then spoke, now fixing his gaze squarely on me.
“Fire Dragon Pavilion Lord.”
“Yes.”
“You confronted Dark Heaven’s schemes in Shanxi, Henan, Sichuan, and Hubei, did you not?”
To be precise, I was caught up in them—but I simply nodded.
This was the Murim Alliance’s Grand Conference Hall. Compared to dealing with Hwangbo Gun, discussing what comes next was far more significant.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Few know as much about Dark Heaven as you do. As Alliance Leader, I wish to hear your insight.”
“I was only present at the scene. The Silver Spirit Pavilion has far more detailed intelligence from across the land. And I’ve already reported everything.”
“I want to hear it from your own experience—your thoughts, drawn from everything you saw and endured.”
Good. That’s what I was waiting for.
The words I tossed out earlier were just bait for this moment.
A little humility and restraint is a virtue. But when the Murim Alliance Leader himself requests my opinion, it adds considerable weight.
Alright then.
I drew a quiet breath.
Up to now, I’d been in the back seat. But now, I was in the front passenger seat.
It’s a foggy morning. The driver is unfamiliar with the route and has no navigation. I can’t guide them through everything…
But I can tell them where the speed bumps are. I can warn them what lies ahead.
‘That ominous thought that hasn’t left my mind for days.’
As I collected my thoughts and lifted my head, I realized all eyes in the hall were on me—just me.
Dozens of stares.
These people hold the power to save or doom thousands in the war already underway.
How seriously would they take the words of a youth barely past twenty?
‘It doesn’t matter. If it means we can win this war—if it means we can reduce even a little of the risk and sacrifice—’
Right now, I have to do what I can.
Maybe it was because of that resolve… but the voice that spilled from my lips carried a power I didn’t usually possess.
“Dark Heaven is…”
* * *
Two hours later.
The grand conference hall, once filled with people, now held only three.
Just moments ago, dozens had been seated—but now, the seats were empty, and a heavy silence lingered.
Those who had left the Council Chamber likely felt the same.
‘It’s understandable.’
The words that came from Jin Taekyung’s mouth had been that shocking.
Everyone knew of Dark Heaven’s existence and its danger, but no one—not even that young man—had issued such a direct warning of the crisis.
‘Not even I did.’
The Silver Spirit Pavilion gathers intelligence from all over the land and makes endless predictions.
Hundreds of carrier pigeons arrive daily with messages tied to their thin ankles, only to depart soon after.
So as the head of the Silver Spirit Pavilion, Thousand-Faced Fox Song Ho was well aware of just how dangerous Dark Heaven was.
‘But still…’
The young master of the Fire Dragon Pavilion, who had stirred up chaos after chaos, had thoughts that went far beyond anyone’s expectations.
Where others spoke of danger, he spoke of catastrophe.
When someone brought up the past Great War of Justice and Evil and the Murim Alliance’s victory, he answered with biting criticism.
– ‘Do you think we’re fighting the Demonic Cult? Our enemy is Dark Heaven. Dark Heaven.’
– ‘What they’ve shown us isn’t ordinary demonic martial arts. I don’t even know what to call it. Ah, screw it. Fine. Let’s call it demonic arts for now.’
– ‘Whatever the reason, if Dark Heaven has gone quiet, this is our chance to strike back. If we don’t act now, it’s over. Everyone dies.’
– ‘Who was it that said I’m exaggerating? You, Clan Lord. Have you ever fought a guy who regenerates even if his limbs are crushed, or battled a Sea Serpent?’
– ‘When you saw that monster a short while ago, were you seriously just thinking about what to eat for dinner?’
– ‘Our enemies aren’t ordinary people. Dark Heaven is one giant monster, and before long, we might really be fighting things like that.’
– ‘Maybe I got a little too intense. But I had to say it. We need to take every possible precaution now—especially if you’ve got some sacred relic tucked away at home like it’s a family heirloom.’
Song Ho furrowed his brows.
Ever since Jin Taekyung started speaking, his old injury had begun to ache—and now, it was flaring like fire.
‘Just a year ago, this didn’t happen.’
The pain that had returned over time tormented his aged body—like a warning that this was no time to be passive.
Especially today, when he had shared space with that young man.
‘It’s like he knows. Me, and the Silver Spirit Pavilion…’
‘No—it was as if he had already experienced something no one else knew, as if he had predicted it in advance.’
Prediction?
No.
Thousand-Faced Fox Song Ho corrected himself.
‘Prophecy. It was closer to prophecy.’
The question was—was it really prophecy?
Could the words of that young man, who stood closer to Dark Heaven than anyone else in the world, truly be trusted?
Where did the truth end, and exaggeration begin?
Just as Song Ho sank deep into thought—
“…Believe him.”
“…Pardon?”
As Song Ho snapped his head up, Jeok Cheon-Gang, still in the room, continued speaking.
“I said, believe him.”
“Sir Jeok…”
“I know what you’re about to say. But…”
Jeok Cheon-Gang’s tone softened for the first time.
“The brat I know—he’s never been wrong. Not even once.”
That single sentence, radiating absolute trust, made Song Ho pause.
And in that moment, the last of the three people remaining in the hall—Ma Jong-hak—suddenly opened his mouth.
“There are convictions in this world that no amount of information can explain.”
“…Alliance Leader, are you saying…?”
“That’s right.”
Ma Jong-hak slowly rose to his feet and continued.
“Summon him. We must give the Fire Dragon Pavilion its first mission.”
