Chapter 644
Ding. Ding. Ding.
– Quest [The Tribal Assembly] has been created!
【The Tribal Assembly】
You have become the first outsider in the history of the Southern Barbarian Palace to earn the right to attend the Tribal Assembly.
Even the former Five Lords of the Flame God Sect failed to achieve this, as the last Lord destroyed the Wudu Clan and left before the assembly even began!
This is a monumental gathering where the fate of the Southern Barbarian Region is decided.
Your task: achieve the best possible outcome.
Grade: Transcendent
Restriction: Jin Taekyung
Objective: Secure the Southern Barbarian Palace’s Alliance Entry [Incomplete]
Success: ??
Failure: ??
I stared at the quest window and sighed inwardly.
Convincing the Southern Barbarian Palace to join the alliance? Even with the current goodwill toward me, that was a mountain of a task. The quest grade “Transcendent” wasn’t for show.
‘And what’s with that Five Lords comment…? Right, the Flame God Sect.’
A martial lineage passed down through a single successor—centuries of fire, blood, and madness.
Some of its past Lords lived long, hidden lives. Others burned bright and short, but every one of them had ranked among the top five under heaven.
‘Guess that’s part of why I’m sitting here now.’
Two hundred years ago, the Flame God Sect had strong ties with the Southern Barbarian Palace. In Murim terms, that’s practically saying they were drinking buddies with a founding ancestor.
Problem was, I was good at breaking bones—not at persuasion.
‘Still, gotta try.’
Straightening my back, I looked around at the thirty-two seated chieftains.
At the head sat the Beast Miao King, flanked by Baek Sang, Yohee, and Heukung. The rest sat seemingly without rank, but each one ruled anywhere from hundreds to tens of thousands.
In other words, this hall -was- the Southern Barbarian Region itself.
As I studied their faces, the Beast Miao King broke the silence.
“Well then.”
With his serious expression and commanding gaze, tension filled the air like a drawn bowstring. The master of the Southern Barbarian Palace, exuding quiet authority, opened his mouth—
“Everyone eaten yet?”
…What?
‘Did I hear that right?’
The great, historic opening line of the Tribal Assembly—was about breakfast?
“Things have been rough lately,” he continued solemnly, “but you mustn’t skip meals. Especially you, Chief Zhang. You look thinner than last year.”
Unbelievable.
“Sharp as ever, Palace Lord,” replied Chief Zhang politely. “I have lost a little weight.”
He actually answered.
“I thought so. But that won’t do. As a leader, you must stay strong for your people. How old are you again?”
“Sixty.”
“Still young. Eat more.”
“Understood.”
Was it just me, or did “Understood” sound suspiciously like “We’re doomed”?
‘Southern Barbarians, indeed.’
Was this really the grand Tribal Assembly?
I glanced around in disbelief. The supposed leaders of the South were casually chatting about livestock and children like it was market day.
“Chief Gal, heard your sixth went through the coming-of-age ceremony?”
“Seventh, actually.”
“Ah, lost count. You should stop after one or two—how do you even have the energy for fifteen?”
“Seventeen now.”
“…Weren’t you at fifteen last year?”
“Had twins.”
“Ah.”
Meanwhile, another heated conversation broke out nearby.
“Chief Gu! Return the cattle you stole!”
“What cattle?”
“The fifty dairy cows that vanished from my pastures! You think I don’t know it was your people?”
“Never happened.”
“Don’t play dumb, hand them over.”
“I said no!”
“Give me back my cows, you milk-stealing bastard!”
So much for diplomacy.
Then in another corner—
“I remember it like yesterday, the day your tribe invaded our lands!”
“Good grief, you bring that up every year! That was eighty years ago, old man!”
“I inherited my ancestors’ spirit! So hand over the land.”
“That’s not how it works!”
“Hand it over.”
“…For crying out loud.”
Yup. Absolute chaos.
As I stared at them blankly, a telepathic voice brushed my ear.
– You look amused.
Turning my head, I saw Yohee smiling at me, her tone playful.
– The Tribal Assembly’s always like this. After all, they only meet once a year.
– Even so, it’s a complete mess.
– The assembly handles -all- matters, big or small. That includes petty issues too. It’s how they maintain peace. Everyone vents, then moves on.
-Crash!-
“Why, you son of a—!”
“Shut your mouth and step outside!”
The two cattle-owners were now brawling outright.
– Of course, there are exceptions. Don’t worry, it’ll settle soon. The real assembly starts after that.
“I said hand it over!”
“You damned spider-born fool!”
“Back in my ancestor’s day—”
“Enough! ENOOOUGH!”
…I had my doubts about that “it’ll settle soon” part.
‘These people are savages.’
Before I could finish the thought, the shouting gradually subsided. The chiefs began reporting more serious matters.
“Thirty of our warriors were injured in the recent beast hunt. Twenty-two were killed. We request the Inner Palace’s support.”
“Floods struck after the sudden storm. Over fifty homes and farmlands were lost.”
“The conflict between the Huang and Dong Tribes has been resolved. Both sides signed a peace accord.”
Beast hunts, disasters, tribal disputes—appetizers were over; the main course had arrived.
And among the reports, one stood out.
“A strange being has appeared in the northeast.”
A murmur swept the room.
“A strange being?”
Even the Beast Miao King straightened his posture. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”
The reporting chief hesitated. “It’s… not confirmed information.”
“Your source?”
“Three days ago, we caught a Han man crossing the northeastern border. He claimed a mysterious figure was wreaking havoc in Guizhou.”
Guizhou Province—bordering Sichuan and Guangxi, practically within arm’s reach of the Southern Barbarian Region.
‘Guizhou… that close?’
Something felt wrong. The timing, the location—it all stank.
“More details,” the Beast Miao King ordered.
“Yes, Palace Lord. The man’s identity and age are unknown. He carried a monk’s staff like a Shaolin priest… and reportedly slaughtered hundreds. They call him the Blood Monk.”
“Blood Monk?”
“Yes. Even the man who told us trembled when he spoke of him.”
Blood Monk—what a fitting name. A killer monk strong enough to massacre hundreds in Guizhou? That meant at least transcendent-level power.
‘Guizhou’s a righteous faction territory. No way the Murim Alliance would just sit back.’
Yet somehow, this “Blood Monk” ran rampant. The thought made my skin crawl.
If he had enough power to do that, and if he appeared this suddenly…
‘Could he be tied to Dark Heaven?’
The timing was too strange. Someone like him showing up right after the Thousand-Year Spiders’ attack?
Even if he wasn’t on the level of Hong Ran, the Southern Demon Empress, it was still possible. Dark Heaven was known to command countless monsters of that caliber.
And if this Blood Monk was heading south…
“Do we know where he’s headed?” I asked.
The chief shook his head. “I wanted to ask that too, but…”
“But?”
“He’s dead.”
“…What?”
“He died before I could ask more. Badly injured and unable to adapt to the new environment. Then came the flood—we couldn’t save him.”
The room fell silent.
Then, breaking that silence, came a calm, dismissive voice.
“Injuries, disease, death—it happens.”
All eyes turned toward the source.
Baek Sang.
“A killer appearing in the Central Plains? Hardly surprising. The Han have always been that way—killing each other to maintain their so-called world. In short…”
He paused, his tone cold and distant.
“It’s none of our concern. Not for the Southern Barbarian Region.”
Something about that struck me wrong.
A man like Baek Sang, who commanded the second-largest tribe, ignoring something so near, so dangerous?
No—it wasn’t indifference. It was intentional.
“If the Blood Monk moves south,” I asked quietly, “what then?”
The chiefs exchanged uneasy glances. Baek Sang’s voice remained steady.
“Guizhou borders more than just us. Beyond Guangxi lies the open sea. If he follows the coast, he can reach Hainan within days.”
“So you think he won’t come here.”
“What reason would he have to? Facing our poisons and beasts? Nonsense.”
“There -is- one reason.” I looked him dead in the eye. “Strange how you’re the only one pretending not to know it.”
“…What?”
“Or maybe you promised someone you’d pretend not to know.”
The flames flickered—and died.
Darkness fell over the vast hall.
From within it, two cold eyes gleamed like blades.
“So. You -dare- cross the line.”
The air howled.
“Funny,” I said softly. “Looks to me like you’re the one crossing it.”
—
Who crossed the line first?
Me—or Baek Sang?
Which of our words were truth, and which were lies?
None of that mattered anymore.
From this point forward, words meant nothing. Only strength would speak.
Whish!
A sharp burst of air grazed my ear. I twisted my head aside just in time to avoid the invisible force of his strike, and planted my hand on the stone table in front of me.
Boom!
The rock trembled violently. Dozens of empty cups flew into the air. I flicked my fingers—sending one group flying straight toward Baek Sang.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
They were crude wooden cups, but infused with my energy, they turned into deadly projectiles.
Faster than arrows. Hard enough to shatter stone.
But Baek Sang was calm—and fast.
Whoosh. Slash!
His open palm swept horizontally, cutting through the air. The invisible energy split the cups mid-flight, fragments scattering like dust.
And before they even hit the ground, his figure vanished.
Pa-pat!
White robes flickered like a ghost in the dark.
In an instant, he crossed the five paces between us, his fist descending toward my head—
“You’re crossing it again.”