Chapter 626
“Palace Lord. May I have a word with you?”
A low, stern voice echoed in through the crack of the closed door.
Everyone reflexively turned toward the door behind them, but I didn’t miss the subtle change that occurred in that fleeting moment.
‘Beast Miao King. And Yal Mok.’
We outsiders were nothing more than rolling stones that happened to end up here, but those two were integral—like a core that the Southern Barbarian Region couldn’t do without.
I didn’t know who the voice belonged to, but the way their expressions sank deeply in an instant was more than enough of an answer.
‘Definitely not someone they smile at.’
As I muttered to myself and reached that conclusion, the Beast Miao King suddenly let out a quiet laugh after locking eyes with me.
“What an amusing fellow.”
“It’s nothing. Just a passing comment.”
Nothing? Anyone could tell it wasn’t.
But as if to say not to press further, the Beast Miao King lightly waved his thick hand and addressed all of us.
“Apologies, but another guest has arrived. Would you mind giving us some privacy? We still have time, so I’d like to speak more after you’ve had a chance to rest.”
There was a flaw in his words about still having time. As long as Dark Heaven exists, no one can predict what might happen.
Still, I agreed with the suggestion to rest for now and talk later.
‘At least, it doesn’t seem like anything unusual has happened in the Southern Barbarian Region yet.’
As I nodded at the thought, the Beast Miao King’s gaze shifted to Yal Mok, who stood silently to his right.
“Mok.”
Just one word, but it was enough. Yal Mok respectfully gestured toward us. He meant for us to follow.
“We’ll take our leave.”
“Yes. Prepare me a grand welcome ceremony.”
Forget the grand ceremony. I just hoped the discussion about joining the alliance and Dark Heaven would go smoothly.
As we turned away from the Beast Miao King and reached the door, the stone gate carved from rock began to move.
Rumble.
With a heavy noise, the gate slowly opened, revealing two muscular guards wearing bear pelts, pulling on chains connected to the door.
And then…
“It’s been a while.”
The owner of the earlier stern voice appeared.
At his sudden greeting, Yal Mok bowed his head.
“Yal Mok of the Miao tribe greets Uncle Baek Sang.”
A middle-aged tribesman adorned from head to toe in white clothes and ornaments. The man Yal Mok called Uncle Baek Sang opened his mouth.
“I heard you had returned. There was a rather large fire in the northeastern pasture, wasn’t there?”
“It was a minor issue. We extinguished it quickly.”
“A minor issue, huh.”
A chill flickered in his cold voice. Baek Sang scanned over Yal Mok and us with icy eyes.
More precisely, he focused especially on me.
Then, he slowly spoke.
“I hope it truly was minor.”
“What of the Palace Lord?”
“She is waiting inside.”
That was it. Baek Sang, who still hadn’t lifted his gaze from his bow, walked past us without another word.
Rumble.
As the stone door closed once more with a heavy thud, Yal Mok finally raised his head.
I asked him, who stared silently at the sealed gate with tightly pressed lips.
“Who was that?”
“No need to know.”
“Not interested in answering, huh? Fine. Elder Nam?”
At my call, Nam Ho—renowned in Silent Heaven Pavilion for his knowledge of the Southern Barbarian Region—answered without hesitation.
“He’s the chieftain of the Baek Tribe, one of the four most powerful great tribes in the Southern Barbarian Region.”
“Ah. No wonder he was all dressed in white. The Baek Tribe… I saw a few of them near the entrance. You mean those white-clad guys, right?”
Nam Ho replied in a slightly bitter tone.
“White-clad… well, not wrong. Their tribe venerates the color white.”
There are over thirty tribes in the Southern Barbarian Region, each living in scattered villages, preserving their own customs.
But Yeongin, where we were now, served as a central meeting place even in the Southern Barbarian Region, where many tribes coexisted and compromised. The Baek Tribe was one of them.
‘I didn’t realize they were such a powerful tribe.’
And to think this vast region was split into four by such great tribes…
I had my suspicions when Yal Mok called him uncle, but he turned out to be an even bigger deal than expected.
After learning that, I quickly caught up to Yal Mok, who had walked ahead.
“You didn’t look all that close. Is he really your uncle?”
“Hey. Can’t you hear me?”
“When someone calls you, you should respond. You want me to show you a burning pasture again? Huh? Want me to set another one ablaze on the way back?”
“You little—still ignoring me? Fine, I get it. You don’t cry at coffins, only at fire.”
Based on my track record as a verbal fighter, I had a 100% win rate. This time was no different.
“…Stop spouting incomprehensible nonsense. Please.”
“Then act right. If you answer promptly, this wouldn’t happen.”
Yal Mok glared at me before letting out a sigh.
“Think before you speak. Would I call him uncle if we were from the same tribe?”
“Good point. Then why call him uncle?”
“He and my father were sworn brothers. They built a deep friendship since youth and fought together during the Great War of Justice and Evil.”
I opened my eyes wide in surprise.
“What? Seriously?”
“I heard Han people are notoriously distrustful. What, don’t believe me?”
“Well, not exactly… I’m just surprised.”
“You’re surprised that the two of them are sworn brothers?”
“No, not that.”
“Wait—Yal Cheok is your father? Not your grandfather or great-grandfather?”
Yal Mok’s eyes turned cold, but surprising was surprising.
Seriously, the guy looked mid-to-late twenties at best, and yet he was the son of the Beast Miao King, who’s well over eighty?
Even considering martial artists usually marry late, this was impressive in a different way.
“Uh, excuse me, Sir?”
At Ju Hwaran’s cautious call, I waved her off.
“Just a sec. One last question. You’re not the eldest, are you?”
Tap tap tap.
His steps quickened. Yal Mok answered in a clipped tone.
“Only child.”
“Wow. Yal the Only Child. Sounds like a full Southern Barbarian POV series right there.”
“What are you saying? Are you actually insane?”
“Okay, yeah, sometimes I say incomprehensible stuff. Anyway, that Baek Sang guy—he’s against joining the alliance, right? I mean, despite the past, things seem strained now?”
“That’s not something an outsider like you should be—!”
And this is why controlling the flow of a conversation is important.
Yal Mok’s flustered reply trailed off, but it was already too late. The fish had taken the bait.
I grinned warmly and patted his shoulder.
“Why’d you stop mid-sentence, huh? That means I’m right, doesn’t it?”
“…You punk.”
“This is enough for now. I’ll ask more later if needed. Thanks. Oh, and this is our lodging, right? Good job showing us around.”
Ignoring Yal Mok’s murderous glare, I turned around. Nam Ho stared at me with the expression of a caveman discovering fire.
“Have you considered joining Silent Heaven Pavilion?”
“Hard pass. More importantly, you heard everything, right?”
“Of course. The way you lured him in and reeled him was practically master-level fishing.”
I replied in a solemn tone.
“Call me Jindra—the fisherman of men.”
“Jindra…”
Ju Hwaran and Hyuk Mujin clenched their fists in excitement.
“Captain. That was incredible. I really thought you were nuts at first.”
“Miss Ju is right. I almost tore our captain’s mouth apart myself.”
It was a weird feeling, but still, I got the job done. I smiled in satisfaction and said:
“Thanks for the compliment, Miss Ju. Mujin, go headfirst into the floor.”
“Yes, sir.”
Thud.
Without hesitation, I sat on Hyuk Mujin’s back like it was the most natural thing. Song Ilseom and Sama Pyo, watching in disbelief, asked:
“This is insane, but… you got the important info, huh.”
“What now, Captain?”
I just shrugged.
Learning that the Baek Tribe’s chieftain opposes the Southern Barbarian Region joining the Murim Alliance isn’t exactly good news.
But what really bugged me was why.
Why would he—who fought in the Great War of Justice and Evil and grew up alongside the Beast Miao King—oppose joining?
And that cold tone, that piercing gaze he gave me during our brief encounter…
I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Grrrrr…
“Taesan is hungry.”
That damn beast .
The Taesa’s Chair, draped in leopard and tiger skins.
The Beast Miao King leaned sideways on his throne, resting his chin on one hand, and picked up a bottle of liquor in front of him.
Glug.
As he tilted the roughly carved stone bottle, a murky liquor filled two large wooden bowls.
He handed one to his guest.
“It’s your favorite fruit wine. Don’t be shy, Baek Sang.”
Baek Sang. White Elephant.
But the middle-aged man who received the slowly passed cup was far from elephant-like.
With icy eyes and a stiff expression, thin and contrasting the robust Beast Miao King, he replied in a hard voice.
“No, thank you. I’ll pass today.”
Clack.
Baek Sang set the cup down with a sharp tap, and the Beast Miao King gave a bitter smile.
“…I see. That’s fine.”
But his heart ached despite the words.
In his fading memories, his one and only sworn brother—someone he once laughed and drank with day and night—had been giving him the same answer for decades.
“I’ll pass today.”
It wasn’t just today. It was the same yesterday, the day before, and likely tomorrow as well.
He had grown used to it. But that only made it hurt more.
“So, what brings you here today, old friend?”
Baek Sang answered with an unwavering voice.
“You already know.”
“It’s because of them, isn’t it?”
“I heard people from the Murim Alliance have arrived.”
“Correct. They were sent by the new Alliance Leader, the Sword Saint Mae Jonghak.”
The Beast Miao King didn’t hide it. There was no need to. Even if he did, the information would eventually reach Baek Sang.
Many members of the Baek Tribe were part of the Southern Barbarian Beast Palace’s inner court, after all.
‘He probably already knows everything about them, even their identities.’
The Baek Sang he knew had always been meticulous. This time would be no different.
Baek Sang’s cold eyes turned to the Beast Miao King, who quietly drank.
“You haven’t forgotten the result of the last tribal council, have you?”
Of course not. The Beast Miao King answered silently in his heart as Baek Sang’s voice, firm and cold, pierced his ears.
“We, the Southern Barbarian Beast Palace… will never join the Murim Alliance.”