Chronicles of the Mad Demon - Chapter 271

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 271. Tangled Thread (2)
“The world has become a place where assassins struggle to survive.”
Ya Hon’s voice remained unchanged.
“Someone once said that with the war ended, those seeking power would actually employ assassins more frequently. There were people who claimed this would usher in another golden age for us.”
A breeze swept through.
A gentle, cool wind that carried the essence of peace and tranquility.
Yet Moyong Bi knew something well.
Great calamities always strike during moments of silence.
“Grandmother, the one called the Death King in the previous generation once told me that in such times, one must be even more cautious.”
Moyong Bi asked as if he didn’t already know.
“I thought you were a son, but you’re a grandson?”
Ya Hon shook his head.
“Not a direct grandson. Grandmother had twin sisters who never set foot in the Martial World. I am descended from their bloodline.”
“Ah?”
So he had adopted the child of those twin sisters, and this Ya Hon was the descendant of that adopted line.
“I never thought the Old Woman would pass down the assassination trade to her bloodline, though I don’t know her nature entirely.”
“Everyone has their circumstances.”
“True enough. Still, you’re being quite forthright about this, aren’t you?”
“I judged it acceptable to speak honestly to the extent necessary.”
Moyong Bi felt something peculiar stir within him.
‘Our situations seem rather similar.’
The way the Death King regarded this Ya Hon felt akin to how he regarded Su Jeong and Su Hyang.
Strictly speaking, the Death King would be Ya Hon’s great-grandmother.
“Continue.”
“Grandmother’s reason for caution was clear. If we sided with one faction and our thread of connection snapped, we would become mere tools in the hands of those in power.”
To those who wielded power, assassins were nothing more than instruments.
No one blames the sword when an enemy uses it well to kill one’s own. Instead, they seek to seize that sword for themselves.
“Whether you know it or not, the assassins of the Four Kings Faction each pursued their craft according to their own convictions and circumstances.”
Moyong Bi answered with an indifferent expression.
“I know well enough. Though I confess I don’t understand what those convictions and circumstances truly are.”
“Yet after the war, it became awkward to invoke such convictions or circumstances. The power struggle became a realm of warlords, and had we entangled ourselves in their games as before, the faction itself risked fragmenting entirely.”
The Death King’s intuition proved sound in such matters.
“In the end, Grandmother prioritized a policy of self-preservation. She insisted that holding our breath and living quietly was the only path to survival for all of us.”
“That’s not wrong.”
“But… those who raised objections began to appear one by one.”
Moyong Bi’s eyes gleamed.
“Isn’t the Death King’s command absolute within your faction? Even setting aside your faction, it should be difficult for any assassin in the Central Plains to defy her words?”
“By then, Grandmother was already in semi-retirement. It was after she passed the position of faction leader to my father.”
“Ah?”
“My father appeared to follow Grandmother’s words well, but deep down, he believed we needed to carve out our own place in this chaotic world.”
“From Bright Place?”
“From Bright Place.”
Moyong Bi furrowed his brow.
“Death King, that sharp-eyed old woman didn’t know about it?”
“It appears she did not.”
I suppose that was possible.
After all, it was her own child. Though not born from her own womb, it was reasonable to assume she had raised him with the utmost care in the manner of an assassin.
“But that’s too naive a thought. Your faction doesn’t undergo training to kill emotions, does it? You learn to control them properly.”
“…It no longer surprises me.”
“The ability to control emotions is also the ability to think. It’s nearly impossible for an assassin organization to establish a recognized organization in Bright Place.”
“That’s correct. Nearly impossible. But Father judged that the possibility was not zero, so he began the operation.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s inevitable. Father’s true intentions lay in something far deeper and more primal.”
“Primal?”
“The desire to boldly establish an organization in Bright Place. What fueled that ambition was the regret of one who possesses power.”
Moyong Bi fell into contemplation.
Those who possess power always wish to use it.
In truth, a Martial Artist can kill even a burly soldier with a mere gesture. Naturally, they become intoxicated with superiority, and that inevitably leads to an intense desire to leave their mark upon this world.
Anyone with power cannot help but feel this way.
This is why the Orthodox Faction of old was regarded as great. Despite possessing power greater than any other, they devoted themselves to maintaining order and truly cared for the weak.
“Father’s initial target was the Green Forest.”
The Green Forest.
What they called a bandit’s den.
Of course, the Green Forest that Night Soul spoke of now was not bandits who turned to robbery because they struggled to survive, but rather bandits who had formally trained in Martial Arts.
“Our paternal grandparents were killed by bandits, or so we were told. Father’s siblings as well.”
“Revenge?”
“I cannot say for certain now. I believe revenge was certainly part of it.”
It was an action born from a complex mixture of various reasons and emotions.
“We began by clearing the Green Forest in the Southern Region. The operation proceeded smoothly. Even though they had learned Martial Arts, we were assassins of the Four Kings Faction. In merely three years, seventy percent of the Green Forest south of the Yangtze River vanished.”
In a sense, it was akin to performing the deeds of a Chivalrous Hero.
“Did Death King not stop it?”
“Why he still hasn’t stopped it, I cannot say. One thing is certain—Grandmother was suffering from an illness.”
Moyong Bi’s eyes gleamed.
“An illness? That Death King?”
“Yes.”
“Is it still the case now?”
“He has improved greatly, but it is an incurable disease, or so he said.”
When one engages in assassination work, one inevitably comes into contact with information.
An assassin of Death King’s caliber would have information networks spread throughout the Central Plains. If even he could not find a solution, it must be considered an almost incurable disease.
“Father’s policies seemed to be succeeding. Even now, in the Southern Region, those events are spoken of as legend—as the Chivalrous deeds of an Envoy.”
“What happened?”
“We came under attack from the Martial Alliance.”
Moyong Bi’s eyes widened.
“The Martial Alliance attacked you?”
“Indeed.”
“And the Death King didn’t know about this?”
“The timing was unfortunate. Our grandmother happened to be bedridden with illness and unable to rise, and the Martial Alliance, having made their decision to capture us, dispatched massive military forces. In the chaos, we maintained strict information control to approach covertly.”
A shadow fell across Ya Hon’s face.
Though he rarely displayed his emotions openly, it seemed difficult for him to speak of those events with detachment.
“From the Martial Alliance’s perspective, it was a suppression campaign. And their campaign succeeded. Eighty percent of our faction’s assassins were killed, and the dozen or so groups of killers who stepped forward to aid us were annihilated.”
“…I see.”
“Our grandmother, realizing the situation too late, descended to the Southern Region herself and rescued the survivors.”
The Central Plains are vast.
So vast that the majority of people never venture beyond the regions where they were born.
In such an expansive world, all manner of events occur, rumors spread and fade just as quickly.
Though I had been here in the body of a Great Grand Nephew for less than a year, this explained why Moyong Bi could not have known of this incident.
“Our grandmother said that such an action, undertaken so soon after the war’s end, could not help but draw the attention of the Orthodox Martial World, who feared the emergence of yet another demonic force.”
Half of that was correct.
The Martial Alliance—indeed, all of the Central Plains—had grown weary of the Demonic Path. Though it appeared as an act of chivalry, since the operation was led by an assassin collective, it would have been difficult to overlook.
And the other half?
‘Consolidating power.’
Directing external attention to strengthen or consolidate one’s own forces.
It was Politics 101. The assassins of the Four Kings Faction had foolishly become sacrificial pawns for the Martial Alliance’s leadership.
“It was the Ho Yeon Family who extended their hand to us at that time.”
“…Interesting.”
“At that time, voices within the Martial Alliance were even calling for the elimination of all assassins under heaven. As you said… when the Martial Alliance runs rampant, even the major powers of the Underworld struggle to endure.”
“So you joined hands with the Ho Yeon Family?”
“There were various circumstances involved.”
He would say no more than that.
But Moyong Bi grasped how matters had unfolded.
‘Death King, you damned old woman.’
Though illness was unavoidable, the supreme leader had still failed to properly discipline those beneath him.
“Then it’s certain that the Blue Faction—more precisely, Jeon Chil Sung—is drawing a line with the Ho Yeon Family.”
Ya Hon did not open his mouth.
Moyong Bi nodded.
“Let me ask you one thing.”
“….”
“Is it gratitude or survival?”
It was an abrupt question, but Ya Hon understood its meaning.
Whether gratitude toward the Ho Yeon Family took priority, or whether your own survival took priority.
“Of course, survival.”
“As I thought.”
“You may think us ungrateful, but the Ho Yeon Family is not so different. In some ways, they were far more vicious than the leadership of the Martial Alliance.”
“Vicious?”
“They ordered us to do things too shameful to even speak of. With our very survival hanging in the balance.”
Moyong Bi spoke calmly, his gaze fixed intently upon Ya Hon.
“I won’t waste words.”
“…”
“Join me.”
Ya Hon’s eyes sharpened.
“What of yours should we trust?”
“You say you despise the Ho Yeon Family?”
“I despise them, but if I could have escaped, I would have long ago.”
“The reason you cannot escape is surely because of the Death King, nine times out of ten?”
“…!!”
This was the moment Ya Hon was most startled today.
So much so that he stumbled over his own words.
“H-how did you…?!”
“Even if you all perish, if the Death King cultivates disciples, your faction’s bloodline will not be severed. But if the Death King dies, your faction will collapse, will it not?”
“So how could you possibly…?”
“You have not mastered all of the Death King’s Martial Arts, have you?”
Had Ya Hon completely absorbed the Death King’s Supreme Arts, Moyong Bi would have fled at first sight. There would be no way to win with his current body.
“You know a method to treat the Death King’s illness, so you’ve been sending him medicine bit by bit, haven’t you? Am I wrong?”
Ya Hon could not even form words.
‘Who in the world is this man?’
Moyong Bi spoke bluntly.
“Why are you so shocked? It’s obvious.”
“Obvious…? How is that obvious?”
“You still have much to learn. You know only how to kill people, but you don’t truly understand how to manipulate human desire. There’s a reason The Old Woman worries.”
Even the Death King himself was falling prey to it—life was truly incomprehensible.
“When you conduct political struggle properly, you learn which method is most effective in controlling your opponent.”
“What is that?”
“Exploiting weaknesses.”
“…!!”
“In the end, that’s the fastest way. Though trust will be difficult to earn. I merely use them thoroughly.”
Moyong Bi extended his hand.
“I prefer certainty over speed. That is what sets me apart from the Ho Yeon Family.”
“…”
“Leave The Old Woman’s treatment to me. The Ho Yeon Family exploited your weaknesses, but I will eliminate them. That is the certainty I speak of.”
“…What of yours should we trust?”
Moyong Bi smiled.
“The three characters of the Moyong Clan. Believe in that. It is the most certain promise I can offer.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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