I Shouldn't Have Joined the Martial Arts Alliance - Chapter 102

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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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To enter the Murim Alliance without good reason — Chapter 102
Trembling. Trembling.
The middle-aged man’s body shook of its own accord, as though he’d glimpsed a ghost.
“……W-what, what is th-this?”
“It’s a sword, as you can see.”
In form, it was indeed a sword, yet to one seeing it for the first time, it would have appeared nothing more—and nothing less—than an ornament.
It leaned too heavily toward decoration for something meant to kill.
And yet, to the middle-aged man’s eyes—no, to what he felt—it was as though the vengeful spirit of a ghost pressed down upon him.
“……P-put it away.”
Sa U-rin tilted his head.
The warriors of Cheon Hoon Mun hadn’t reacted this way at Xueyu Fang. Certainly, something about the Hwaryong Sword seemed to move with life, just as Sa U-rin had suspected.
And it seemed to direct itself toward those who had learned Honwon-gong.
Judging by the middle-aged man’s reaction, at least.
“You know nothing of this sword?”
“……N-no. I know nothing. Put it away at once!”
So Sa U-rin brought the Hwaryong Sword closer to the middle-aged man.
“……W-what are you doing! Put it away this instant!”
But Sa U-rin paid no mind and continued speaking.
“You didn’t ask, but let me tell you something amusing. My father mentioned that this sword is connected to Honwon-gong. Truly, you know nothing of it?”
The middle-aged man trembled violently, his eyes wide with shock.
“Th-this sword is connected to Honwon-gong?”
“That’s what I believe. My father said so as well. Oh, and this sword was kept in the Murim Alliance too. It’s been around for several hundred years, they say. And the name given to it was the Useless Sword, because no one could ever draw it. That’s how it got its name—a sword of no use whatsoever. Yet I drew it. What do you think that means?”
“……Then…… truly…….”
“Right? Don’t you also think this sword is connected to Honwon-gong?”
And yet.
“……I know nothing.”
“Is that so? What a pity.”
Sa U-rin slid the Hwaryong Sword back into its sheath.
“But let me tell you something else. This sword played a tremendous role at Xueyu Fang. Thanks to it, I survived.”
The middle-aged man’s eyes grew as wide as lanterns.
“Xueyu Fang……. You survived that incident?”
“I did.”
“Nonsense! The Xueyu Fang incident involved a warrior from the Murim Alliance! What?! Then everything you’ve said has been a lie!”
The way he spouted such absurdities made it clear that everything he said was itself a fabrication.
“What are you talking about? Everything I’ve said is the truth. I’m a warrior of the Patrol Unit, part of the Murim Alliance.”
“……W-what? What kind of nonsense is that? Aren’t you the son of the witch?”
Yet he was looking directly at him. How could he speak such lies?
……This too was strange.
“You weren’t listening to me properly. I said clearly—my father belonged to the Melma Squad of the Murim Alliance. That’s why I entered the Murim Alliance. Don’t you understand?”
Understand—no, he couldn’t believe it. But now that he heard it…….
“……Is that truly so?”
The pieces were falling into place.
“I keep telling you, and you keep asking again.”
“……Damn. So that was it.”
Now it made sense.
None of Cheon Hoon Mun understood what happened at Xueyu Fang, but if the greenhorn before him had mastered Honwon-gong, and that sword in his hands was connected to Honwon-gong, then everything fell into place.
And yet.
“Then the witch was there. That’s it. That’s why it failed.”
No one in Cheon Ho Mun had thought that operation would fail. No—they had never failed before.
But if the supreme witch of the Heterodox Faction had been there, everything aligned. The reason for failure was now abundantly clear.
They could never have overcome her.
“No. My mother was not there.”
“……Don’t mock me. By your own account, we would have had no reason to fail.”
“Didn’t you hear me? I said this sword performed great deeds.”
Though Sa U-rin had no memory of it.
“……What are you saying?”
“I can’t tell you more than that.”
……
‘……Damn it.’
“You wouldn’t believe me even if I did.”
“No, you can trust me. So speak.”
“I can’t. That’s something I cannot tell you.”
Even Sa U-rin himself found it too strange to speak of.
“Then ask me again.”
He’d grown eager to hear this.
“Should I?”
“Do.”
Go on.
“Very well.”
Sa U-rin decided he should ask something the middle-aged man wouldn’t be able to answer.
“Then does Cheon Hoon Mun intend to continue hiding unseen behind the Jianghu, operating in this manner?”
The corners of the middle-aged man’s mouth lifted.
“No. Cheon Hoon Mun will now reveal itself to the Jianghu.”
Sa U-rin was taken aback.
And he wasn’t alone—everyone in the Underground Dungeon was shocked.
“……What? Is that true?”
“It is. And let me tell you something else. About the Murim Alliance membership… well, never mind that. By now the rumor has spread across all the Jianghu, so everyone knows—the Murim Alliance will be selecting its Leader through the Qinglong Martial Arts Tournament.”
“I know. ……Don’t tell me?”
“Ha. Speculation is the death of men. That’s right. Cheon Hoon Mun will also enter this Qinglong Martial Arts Tournament. What do you think that means?”
“To ascend to the seat of Murim Alliance Leader… and truly seize control of the Jianghu…….”
“Exactly. You understand well. Cheon Hoon Mun has decided to stop holding its breath in the shadows of the Jianghu.”
It meant breaking a heavenly taboo that had descended through Cheon Hoon Mun for thousands of years.
Regarding themselves as the very sky of the Jianghu.
“Now it’s my turn to ask. About that sword…….”
Sa U-rin cut off the middle-aged man’s words.
“No. I have no more questions now.”
“……That won’t do!”
“It’s my choice.”
“It’s my turn!”
Sa U-rin turned his back and spoke to his mother.
“Now that it’s finished, let’s all head up.”
“Yes, let’s. Chu-yeop, clean up.”
“Understood.”
Chu-yeop severed the middle-aged man’s neck in one clean stroke.
The middle-aged man’s head, wearing such an aggrieved expression, rolled across the floor.
* * *
The Murim Alliance was in uproar.
And it wasn’t just the Murim Alliance.
All the Jianghu was in upheaval.
It was all because of a rumor that shook the Jianghu: the Jang Family Manor, long established as one of the Heterodox Faction’s Seven Great Sects, had suddenly defected to the Orthodox Faction.
Everyone in the Jianghu doubted their ears, but as the rumor proved true, they were left flabbergasted.
But why?
Why would the Jang Family Manor, so firmly rooted as one of the Heterodox Faction’s seven great houses, deliberately crawl into the Orthodox Faction just to be scorned?
Or so they said.
Yet that rumor was only the tail of another story.
It was the Qinglong Martial Arts Tournament.
Ah, wasn’t the sect that won the Qinglong Martial Arts Tournament to take the seat of Murim Alliance Leader?
Now I understand!
So Jang Ryeo, the supreme master of the Heterodox Faction, was trying to claim the seat of Murim Alliance Leader.
But when confronted with reality, this rumor lost its force—the current Jang Family Manor had no successor strong enough to win the Qinglong Martial Arts Tournament.
Yet another rumor came to fill the void.
Jang Ryeo had a son.
Everyone questioned it at first—’The witch had a son?’—but this rumor too began to be accepted as fact.
Jegal Gun-sa confirmed that Jang Ryeo’s son was Jade-Face Hwaryong, a Patrol Unit officer of the Murim Alliance, and the rumor became truth, spreading like wildfire.
‘Jade-Face Hwaryong was the witch’s son?’
‘How is that even possible?’
‘The son of the Heterodox Faction’s supreme master was a Murim Alliance officer!’
‘His father came from the Murim Alliance’s Melma Squad.’
‘Really?’
‘That’s what I heard.’
‘Wow! So he really was born with a silver spoon?’
‘But then why did he bother being just another warrior in the Murim Alliance?’
‘…That much, I wouldn’t know.’
‘Does anyone know?’
No one did.
‘But now that he’s said to be of marriageable age, think he can win the Qinglong Martial Arts Tournament?’
‘Well, that’s…’
‘Right?’
‘Still, you never know. He’s the Witch’s son, after all.’
‘Yeah, but martial prowess doesn’t care about age.’
‘That’s true.’
‘You don’t really know till you see it tested.’
‘Once you see him fight, you’ll know right away.’
‘Then why would the Jang Family Manor deliberately switch to the Orthodox Faction?’
‘…Yeah, that’s a good point.’
‘Exactly.’
Countless voices across the Jianghu buzzed with speculation. Young and old, men and women alike.
In an instant, the Jang Family Manor and the White-Faced Fire Dragon had become the center of the Jianghu. Naturally, all eyes turned toward the White-Faced Fire Dragon.
And so the Qinglong Martial Arts Tournament was no longer a celebration of the Orthodox Faction alone, but had become the focus of the entire Jianghu’s attention and interest.
In short, it was a massive commercial success.
There had never been a Qinglong Martial Arts Tournament that drew such eyes.
Thus Jegal Gun-sa’s standing within the Murim Alliance grew stronger still.
With his position solidified, Jegal Gun-sa did not remain idle. He had to prepare for contingencies.
For the unexpected.
So he arranged a meeting with the Sa Do-yeon Master. And at that meeting, Jegal Gun-sa made his will forcefully known.
In the end, the Sa Do-yeon Master acceded to his demands.
Sa Do-yeon agreed to a pact: henceforth, he would not lay a hand on Guizhou Fortress. Jegal Gun-sa declared firmly that if Sa Do-yeon so much as attempted any scheme against the Fortress, it would trigger a full-scale war between the Orthodox and Heterodox Factions.
It worked.
Of course, Sa Do-yeon accepted on the condition that the Murim Alliance would likewise harbor no expansionist designs against the Heterodox Faction.
That was the situation.
With Guizhou Fortress falling to the Orthodox Faction, the balance of power had tilted decidedly in their favor.
In essence, a peace accord had been forged between the Orthodox and Heterodox Factions. Though one could still call the present state peaceful, the unseen tension had persisted—until now, when both sides agreed to lay even that aside.
True peace had arrived.
Of course, no one could say how long this peace would last, but many acknowledged that so long as Jegal Gun-sa existed and the Witch Jang Ryeo did not fall, this peace would endure.
Meanwhile.
Sa U-rin poured every waking moment into the Fengyun Sword of the Jang Family Manor.
It was because of the information he’d gleaned from the Middle-aged Man. Or rather, thanks to it.
For he had learned that the Cheon Hoon Mun was entering the Qinglong Martial Arts Tournament.
So Sa U-rin could not use the Cheonroe Shinjgyeol and Amyeong Shinjgyeol of the Honwon-gong. He could not risk them learning that he himself had mastered Honwon-gong.
As it naturally must be.
It was, to be sure, a grave disadvantage. Unable to wield the Honwon-gong that had become one with his body for so long.
Yet what was to be done?
A true victor must break through adversity and prevail.
Only then could one become truly strong, only then could one truly rule.
Still, Sa U-rin was not without advantages. His opponents knew nothing of his existence, while he knew something of theirs.
He knew all the foundational methods of the Cheonroe Shinjgyeol and Amyeong Shinjgyeol, knew their techniques—could he not thus chart the movements of his foes to some degree?
Of course, this applied only to the Cheon Hoon Mun.
Against the other competitors, Sa U-rin would rely solely on the Fengyun Sword of the Jang Family Manor. Yet he would prevail.
With such resolve, Sa U-rin spent each day as if passing through hell itself.
Even the Witch Jang Ryeo was astonished by his efforts.
‘A ruthless bastard,’ she’d mutter.
The Head of the Jang Family did not remain idle either. He drove his two sons relentlessly.
‘What are you wretches doing!’ he’d roar.
As a result—or rather, because of it—the Head of the Jang Family’s two sons found themselves trapped in a living hell day after day.
Regardless of their own will. That made it all the more hellish. Though they grew stronger because of it, the Head of the Jang Family’s two sons did not realize their own growth.
And so the Qinglong Martial Arts Tournament, upon which all the Jianghu’s gaze was fixed, drew one month closer.

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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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