Chapter 620
“Good to meet you, Blazing Fire Dragon Jin Taekyung.”
The quiet voice reached my ear, carrying a subtle ripple of tension. But instead of showing surprise, I simply gazed at the old man.
I had already suspected during our conversation that he might be a Silent Heaven Pavilion operative.
‘He fit the bill well enough.’
He was the owner of the meeting place the Thousand-Faced Fox had told me about, and unlike the other tribesmen, he showed us no particular hostility.
Still, one should always test even the sturdiest-looking bridge before stepping on it.
The system itself had warned me through the [Journey to the Southern Barbarian Region] quest—always stay alert and act with flexibility.
At least this time, I intended to follow that advice to the letter.
Ssshhh.
An invisible, formless wave of internal energy enveloped the inside of the inn, shutting out all sound from the outside world. Within that sealed space, I spoke quietly.
“Are you with the Silent Heaven Pavilion?”
That was a question not just I, but everyone here, wanted answered.
Under the weight of our stares, the old man fiddled with his grimy cup before replying.
“It’s become a far-off memory now… the day I was given my second name—Namho.”
Namho. Literally, it meant “amber of the south.”
The Silent Heaven Pavilion, being an intelligence organization, gave its operatives code names to conceal their identities. Namho matched exactly with the information the Thousand-Faced Fox had provided.
“A certain fox told me a fierce wind is blowing in the Southern Barbarian Region.”
“Even if a typhoon rages, a Poison Flower deeply rooted in the earth will not sway.”
Once I confirmed the secret code phrase from the Thousand-Faced Fox, I was certain.
I refilled the cup in front of the old man—no, Namho—and spoke.
“To be honest, I hadn’t let go of my doubts until just now… but you are indeed with the Silent Heaven Pavilion.”
Namho drained his cup without hesitation and asked,
“What’s the matter? Couldn’t imagine a Silent Heaven Pavilion operative being a tribesman?”
As he said, he was indeed a tribesman.
His sun-darkened skin from the Southern Barbarian heat, and his distinctive features, were far removed from those of a Han. Anyone with a sharp eye would notice.
I nodded slightly.
“I can’t say I didn’t think that. It’s a long way from the Central Plains, and to be honest, you don’t seem to have practiced martial arts.”
“Everyone has their circumstances. What matters is that most people think the same way you do.”
“And because everyone assumes that, you were able to avoid suspicion?”
“Who would suspect an old tribesman who hasn’t practiced even a single stance of martial arts? It’s absurd.”
After finishing the last of the liquor, Namho suddenly asked,
“Oh, did you block the sound with your internal energy?”
“Of course. Can’t let this conversation leak out.”
“Then release it for a moment. There’s something I must do.”
Something he must do?
I wanted to ask more, but his expression was deadly serious.
The moment I withdrew the energy barrier, Namho suddenly addressed Hyuk Mu-jin.
“You there. Who’s standing behind you?”
“Huh?”
Crash!
“Get the hell out of here, you ill-mannered Han bastards!”
It all happened in an instant.
A bottle smashed against the back of Hyuk Mu-jin’s head, shattering into pieces that flew everywhere.
Namho, the prime suspect in this sudden incident, began shouting at the top of his lungs.
“You scum! How dare you cause trouble here!”
Everyone, myself included, stared with their mouths hanging open. The most shocked was, of course, Hyuk Mu-jin. Clutching his head, he yelled,
“You crazy old man!”
“That’s right! I’m crazy, you motherless Han dog!”
“Oh? That’s crossing the line, isn’t it?”
“The ones crossing the line are you Han dogs! Killing people in the Southern Barbarian Region wasn’t enough—now you dine and dash?!”
“What the hell? Didn’t I give you silver earlier?!”
“You haven’t given me a single coin! And yet, out of pity, I gave you food—now get out of my sight!”
Whoosh! Crash!
Bottles and dishes went flying. Within seconds, the inn was a complete mess.
Between spewing curses, Namho hurled anything he could get his hands on—and then mouthed silently to me:
“Half a shichen. Ten li away at the lakeshore.”
Realizing what he was doing, I signaled the Fire Dragon Pavilion members.
Ju Hwaran, Song Ilseom, and Sama Pyo were quick on the uptake, flipping tables and smashing things.
Of course, they made sure to shout something on the way:
“Lousy cooking!”
“Dog food!”
“Tastes like crap!”
Crash! Crack! Splinter!
One unlucky pillar shattered, making the roof sag.
The Poison Flower Pavilion had been on the verge of collapse already—time to change its name to “Crumbling Mansion.”
I grabbed Hyuk Mu-jin, who was still yelling at Namho, and Taesan, who was busy shoveling the remaining food into his mouth, and ran.
“You senile old—!”
“No! Taesan’s chicken drumstick!”
“Shut up and get out!”
In the chaos of screams and dust, we burst out of the Poison Flower Pavilion—only to be met by a mob of nearly a hundred people.
“The Han dogs are out!”
“They dared attack Elder Chao!”
“Kill them!”
“No, throw them into the snake pit alive!”
Naturally, none of us had any intention of ending up in a snake pit.
Swoosh! Thud!
As I dodged a pickaxe with a sigh, the system notification came.
Ding!
– Mission [Contact the Silent Heaven Pavilion Operative] completed!
– Quest [Seeds Planted in the Southern Barbarian Region] successfully completed!
– Quest rewards obtained!
– Gained a small amount of experience!
– Gained a small amount of reputation!
– A new linked quest has been generated!
…And just where exactly was that lakeshore again?
Namho appeared exactly half a shichen later, as promised. In one hand he carried a bundle, in the other, his arm was wrapped in bandages.
“The pillar. Who broke it?”
“My inn of forty years collapsed. I nearly died without leaving a will.”
I carefully offered comfort.
“We didn’t expect that to happen. Everything will be fine.”
“Is that supposed to make it fine?”
“I’ll make sure you’re compensated.”
“…I feel a little better already.”
Nothing heals quite like monetary therapy. Revitalized, Namho looked at us.
“About what happened in the inn—understand this. In times like these, if I’d shown I was on your side, I’d be under suspicion too.”
Hyuk Mu-jin replied curtly,
“So you had to call me a motherless bastard on top of everything else?”
“I’ll apologize for that. I had no choice.”
“How would you feel if you heard the same thing?”
“I grew up alone. My parents died early—I don’t even remember their faces.”
…Veteran operatives of the Silent Heaven Pavilion really were something else.
Namho then pulled something from his bundle and handed it to me.
“What’s this?”
“A woodblock. For over fifty years, I’ve traveled every corner of the Southern Barbarian Region, recording the terrain and the positions of the tribes in detail.”
Though the Great War of Justice and Evil had ended long ago, not everyone had grown complacent in the peace.
Namho had continued his work faithfully.
“The Southern Barbarian Region is full of harsh terrain, beasts, and poisonous creatures. You must have gone through a lot.”
Ju Hwaran’s words drew a faint, bitter smile from Namho.
“I only did what had to be done. Honestly, I made this map hoping it would never be needed.”
But peace had ended.
Dark Heaven had shed its old disguise, the Central Plains were being stained with blood, and its shadow was now reaching the Southern Barbarian Region.
“I already know the situation. The Pavilion Master is greatly concerned. You feel the same?”
“Yes.”
I nodded without hesitation.
Given the chain of events centered on the Water Spirit Dragon in Hubei, the Southern Barbarian Region was a powder keg ready to blow—filled with strange creatures, poisons, and beasts far more dangerous than anything in the Central Plains.
“You’ve heard about the Gate, I assume.”
“Yes. The Southern Barbarian Region hasn’t heard of it yet, but I received word through carrier pigeon. If it weren’t from the Pavilion Master, I wouldn’t have believed it.”
Most wouldn’t—just as the Central Plains had dismissed stories of the Water Spirit Dragon as rumors.
But the day was coming when these impossible things would become reality—just like the time modern people called the Great Cataclysm.
“Dark Heaven is surely targeting the Southern Barbarian Region. Even if nothing’s happened yet, something will, and soon.”
Namho’s gaze deepened.
“Long ago, I left this land under the protection of a Central Plains merchant group. For over fifty years, I haven’t set foot outside the Southern Barbarian Region.
Apart from that recent incident, nothing has happened.”
“You mean the attack on the nearby village by the Heavenly Escort Agency?”
“Yes. The tribes were angry, tensions rose, but that was all. It wasn’t common, but it wasn’t unheard of either.”
“I don’t know if it’s connected to Dark Heaven… but—” I lowered my voice.
“Far greater disasters are coming.”
Namho’s eyes trembled.
This land was his home, his lifelong foundation. After a moment of silence, his voice came, heavy with age.
“I didn’t want to believe it even as I packed to leave. But it seems I have no choice.”
Slinging the bundle over his shoulder, Namho took a step forward.
“Let’s go. Wherever your goal lies, I’ll guide you.”