Chapter 647
The banquet was held in a massive training hall within the inner palace.
It was said to hold over a thousand warriors, and that night, the place was filled with lavish dishes and crowded with tribe chiefs and their followers.
At the highest seat of honor, one man waited for me.
“You’ve come.”
Seated on a grand chair adorned with tiger skin, the Beast Miao King spotted me and gestured.
“Sit. I’ve prepared a place for you.”
The seat assigned to me was right beside him—on his left.
Considering I was an outsider, it was an extraordinary honor. Then again, given my status and what I had achieved the night before, it wasn’t entirely surprising.
Of course, that didn’t mean the Flame Dragon Pavilion members were treated the same.
“I’ve also arranged seats for your subordinates. Eat, drink, and enjoy the night—”
“Taesan! Meat!”
‘Grab!’ ‘Chomp chomp!’
At the sight of Taesan snatching the meat off the table, the Beast Miao King gave me a stunned look.
“…What is that creature?”
“…Just an idiot. Don’t mind him.”
At my glance, Sama Pyo—Taesan’s so-called guardian—sighed heavily and dragged him away, while Nam Ho, who’d been waiting for an excuse, grabbed a bottle nearby and smashed it on Taesan’s head.
‘Crash!’
‘To produce that kind of impact without water energy…? He really went all out.’
But Taesan simply raised his head, gulped down the liquor pouring over him, and grinned.
“Nam Ho! Thanks! Taesan was thirsty!”
“Just die already… please die…”
Watching the scene, the Beast Miao King looked at me with an unreadable expression.
“Your men seem… quite close.”
“Oh, they are. So close that if one of them died, the other wouldn’t even notice.”
“Is that why you didn’t send them?”
I paused before answering.
“So you’ve heard?”
“I don’t involve myself in every affair, but there’s nothing I don’t hear of. The Lord of the Southern Barbarian Beast Palace is meant to be aware of all things.”
Fair enough. With outsiders joining the scout unit, it wouldn’t be strange for the tribe chiefs to have already reported it.
I thought about the three who were probably heading northeast by now.
‘Will they be alright?’
After careful consideration, I’d selected three people: Ju Hwaran, Song Ilseom, and Hyuk Mu-jin.
Despite my worries, Ju Hwaran’s skill and experience surpassed most of her peers. Song Ilseom didn’t even need explaining. And Hyuk Mu-jin—
‘That guy’s survival instincts put cockroaches to shame.’
Despite how he looked, Hyuk Mu-jin had been with me since Shanxi, surviving countless life-or-death battles.
Even Jeok Cheon-Gang once said:
‘How has such a weak, cowardly bastard managed to stay alive this long?’
To which I’d answered,
‘Because he’s weak and cowardly.’
It was true that Hyuk Mu-jin’s martial arts were lacking compared to others, and that he was easily frightened.
But that fear also made him cautious.
‘He can sense danger like a ghost, and when he can’t avoid it, he fights with everything he’s got.’
That’s how he always survived. It wouldn’t even be wrong to rename him ‘Cockroach Hyuk’.
“They’ll manage. No matter what happens.”
I murmured my wish under my breath, then looked past the Beast Miao King’s shoulder.
“There seem to be a lot of empty seats. Even though the banquet’s already begun.”
“They’ll arrive soon enough.”
He said that, but his gaze was heavy, especially when it fell upon the empty seat to his right.
‘Baek Sang.’
The tribe chiefs who’d followed him to the battlefield had returned and taken their seats—but Baek Sang, Yohee, and Heukung had yet to return.
Staring silently at their empty seats, the Beast Miao King poured himself another drink.
‘Drip.’
The sun had long since dipped behind the western mountains.
But the Southern Barbarian Beast Palace still shone brightly amid the night—thanks to the ongoing celebrations.
The Grand Assembly, held only once a year, was both a gathering of unity and festivity.
Countless tribes filled the streets, smiling and laughing under fireworks and music.
Even though I couldn’t see it from here, the cheers and explosions from the outer palace were enough to imagine the sight.
‘Whoosh, boom!’
“Waaaaaaah!”
Just by the sound alone, it might as well have been a samba festival.
With a frown, I asked the Beast Miao King,
“Uh… is this really appropriate?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s like they’ve all got amnesia. Everyone knows what happened at Mount Aino just yesterday.”
The Beast Miao King replied calmly.
“They know. That’s exactly why they celebrate.”
“…What?”
“They were all brave warriors who fought and died for the Southern Barbarian Region. Each tribe believes their fallen have returned to the arms of their gods. Though they died in this world, they’ve been reborn as divine warriors.”
I’d heard this sort of thing before.
It reminded me of certain fanatics I’d dealt with before logging into Murim.
‘What is this, the Crusades or ancient Vikings?’
Murim had its share of superstition, but the Southern Barbarian Region—deeply rooted in native faiths—was something else entirely.
As someone born in the 21st century, I couldn’t quite grasp it.
“And do ‘you’ believe that, Lord Yal Mok?”
At my question, the Beast Miao King chuckled mid-drink.
“How amusing.”
“What is?”
“That a Han from the Central Plains would ask such a question of an old Miao native—let alone the Lord of the Southern Barbarian Beast Palace himself.”
“Ah…”
“But no, that’s not why I laughed. I once heard that same question—from someone else, long ago.”
I had a feeling I knew who.
“Was it my master? Jeok Cheon-Gang?”
“Jeok Cheon-Gang? No. He didn’t care for the existence of gods. Though, he did once ask me to summon him if the demonic cults ever set fire to the South. Said he’d gladly join the slaughter for once.”
That man—so hard to move—had promised to come just to kill. The grudge he bore from Mount Guhwa must have sunk deep into his bones.
I nodded instinctively.
“Then who asked you that question?”
The Beast Miao King’s answer was simple, yet baffling.
“A god.”
“…What?”
He gazed down at his cup, filled to the brim, and continued.
“The [God of War]. A man whose name, age, and even face remain unknown. A mortal who transcended his humanity to become something more. He asked me, ‘Do you truly believe your gods exist?’”
“…And what did you say?”
“I told him, ‘I don’t know. But right now, I think I’m looking at one.’”
The crescent moon reflected in his cup quivered as he drank it down in a single gulp and laughed aloud.
“It was a foolish answer, but I couldn’t help it. That day, the God of War defeated five demonic lords at the peak level and five hundred Blood Ghost Soldiers all by himself. That was our first meeting—and our last. When I saw him again, fifty years later, he looked like a young boy.”
“Even after fifty years, I can still see it clearly.”
My jaw dropped as I listened.
The Blood Ghost Corps—
I’d heard that name before. Jeok Cheon-Gang used to bring it up whenever he told his old war stories.
They were the vanguard of the Demonic Cult’s army during the Great War of Justice and Evil, said to be composed entirely of peak-level masters.
‘Five hundred peak experts, plus five at the transcendent level…’
And he had annihilated them all alone?
If not for the title ‘God of War’ attached to the tale, I’d have dismissed it as nonsense.
‘…Just how strong was he?’
Jeok Cheon-Gang. Moon Kyung. Ma Jong-hak.
The greatest giants of the martial world—all of them had told me stories of that man, over and over again.
And yet, I still couldn’t fathom it.
How far had he gone beyond human limits?
Was he even human anymore?
And why—why did such a being suddenly vanish one day, without a trace?
Where was he now?
What was he doing?
The thoughts spiraled endlessly.
Then, suddenly, one name flashed through my mind.
‘…Wait.’
My fingers, which had been tapping the table, froze. My eyes widened—not at the banquet before me, nor at Murim itself—but at something far beyond.
At another world, shrouded in heat and haze.
At a man who existed in a realm beyond this one.
‘Cheon Tae-min.’
The savior who had saved humanity from the Demon King Asmodeus.
The immortal legend worshipped as a living god by his followers.
And the one who, one day, fell into a deep sleep, severed from the world.
The reason his name came to mind was simple.
‘They’re… similar. The God of War and him.’
Maybe it was just coincidence. But the resemblance was too great to ignore—
Their feats in the Great War of Justice and Evil and the Great Cataclysm, their disappearances afterward—
‘No way. That’s impossible… right?’
But before I could think further, the music and dancing in the hall stopped.
All eyes turned toward the stairs as one man entered, his presence freezing the air itself.
“Welcome, brother.”
The Beast Miao King’s voice held genuine warmth as Baek Sang—flanked by the tribe chiefs like a king—walked forward.
“My apologies for the delay, Lord.”
Snapping out of my thoughts, I finally faced him.
That chilling gaze that could freeze the entire hall.
* * *
—The banquet has begun.
—Security around the outer palace has been reinforced.
—Two hundred elite warriors of the inner palace are moving through the northern gate.
A series of reports whispered through the darkness to a hidden figure.
—Final report. The target?
—The Blood Monk of Guizhou. The marked group is moving to intercept, under Jin Taekyung’s orders. The party includes Ju Hwaran of the Dragon Phoenix Escort Agency, the [Soul Extractor] Song Ilseom, and Hyuk Mu-jin of the Taewon Jin Clan.
It was surprising they knew of Song Ilseom’s past, but to the Shadow and his followers, nothing was surprising.
“Heh.”
The shadowed figure let out a soft laugh and turned around.
‘Snap.’
A finger flicked in the dark—and a spark flared, lighting the void.
‘Whoosh.’
A dim, blood-red flame rose, flickering ominously.
Watching it, the [Southern Demon Empress] smiled faintly. (T/N: The fking bitch is back.)