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Translator/Editor: Asakusa
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◈ A Wandering Warrior's Survival Guide ◈
Chapter 30: The Outer Hall Archive (1)
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People whispered both inside and outside the Murong Clan.
Four days had passed since the scouting party left for Black Pheasant Valley. Everyone assumed they had been wiped out.
A wanderer formerly employed as a hired escort guard, said to have defeated Murong Jun in the selection test, three Outer Hall warriors of the Murong Clan, and one member of the Guarding Martial Authority.
“It was a pointless death.”
“Tsk.”
Most did not expect them to return.
The fact that the group had retained its strength despite systematically trafficking people and kidnapping children suggested it was a fairly large Black Path alliance.
The mountain stronghold in Black Pheasant Valley was a place where those who infiltrated to investigate the forces behind the Black Path group had repeatedly vanished.
Then, news spread that two had survived.
Two figures were walking through the morning mist toward the Murong Clan's Outer Hall residence.
As they drew closer, the expressions of the guards stiffened.
The scent of blood reached them before the figures did.
Soon, they made out the uniform of a White Night Unit member of the Guarding Martial Authority.
They looked as though they had bathed in blood. Their faces seemed to have been roughly rinsed with water, but from head to toe, they were drenched in blood.
Yet they walked toward the north gate as though nothing were wrong.
And beside him walked Cheon Hwi, his bamboo hat heavily spattered with blood.
Cheon Hwi's condition was far worse than Han So-gyeom's.
His clothes hung in half-shredded tatters, as though he had died and somehow come back to life.
The aura of the two men was like coming face to face with the gaze of a tiger descending from a mountain valley at dawn. Even the guards were frightened.
One martial artist unconsciously placed a hand on their sword hilt and pulled one foot half a step back into a stance.
The leather sack in Cheon Hwi's hand was soaked through with blood, and bloody fluid still dripped from it.
It was not difficult to guess that it held a severed head.
“They returned...”
“Go report it.”
Creeeak.
They had thought something had gone terribly wrong, so at the news of survivors, several Murong Clan warriors and Guarding Martial Authority members waiting inside rushed out.
Only a very small number within the Guarding Martial Authority knew that Han So-gyeom had gone with them. Everyone had believed no one would return alive.
An adjutant from the Guarding Martial Authority quickly stepped forward. The adjutant recognized Han So-gyeom at once beneath the worn brown clothes and human skin mask and flinched, but soon hardened their expression and cried out casually.
“You've returned safely! What happened to the others?”
Still pretending to be a low-ranking scout, Han So-gyeom answered in a rough voice.
“The three Outer Hall warriors were killed in an ambush by Black Path bastards at the entrance to Black Pheasant Valley.”
The Murong Clan martial artists who had run out in a panic came to an abrupt stop.
Unbelieving murmurs spread through the Outer Hall courtyard. Setting aside the Guarding Martial Authority member, how could a young wanderer who appeared to be the weakest return on his own two feet from a deadly place that had wiped out three Outer Hall warriors?
Han So-gyeom took a thick ledger clotted with red blood from his robe and handed it to the Guarding Martial Authority adjutant.
He had deliberately not handed it to the Murong Clan's deputy chief administrator standing nearby.
“However, thanks to their sacrifice, that wanderer and I wiped out one of their forward strongholds and secured this ledger recording the distribution routes for Dried Child Hearts. We may even be able to trace the recent cases of human trafficking.”
“Y-you wiped out an entire stronghold?”
Before sending in a subjugation force, simply scouting the place to determine whether it contained a killing formation and whether the enemy had fled would have been a success.
Yet they had attacked a stronghold?
A member of the Murong Clan let out a hollow laugh. No fool would believe that only two people had destroyed a stronghold crawling with dozens, perhaps hundreds, of Black Path fighters.
Cheon Hwi, who had been standing silently, untied the rounded leather sack he held.
Then he casually tossed its contents onto the dirt.
Thud. Roll, roll.
Bulging eyes. A hideous scar twisting across the cheek.
It was the head of Black Hound, the Black Path stronghold leader who had ruled over the area around Black Pheasant Valley.
“Gasp!”
“T-that is Black Hound's head, the Mad Dog of Black Pheasant Valley!”
The guard warriors recoiled in horror. The cut at the neck was sharp, as though a single strike like lightning had severed it.
Han So-gyeom let the commotion continue.
If there was a rotten root within the Clan, this news would certainly reach it.
The three Outer Hall warriors were dead, but the two people they should have killed had returned alive. They had even secured the ledger. Anyone involved would know that was no ordinary matter.
Once word spread through the Clan, anyone with something to hide would have no choice but to fear it. The anxious ones would make some kind of move.
Han So-gyeom glanced at Cheon Hwi. Before leaving the mountain path, they had already agreed not to reveal the betrayal of the three Outer Hall warriors.
There was no need to show their hand too early when they did not know who the informant within the Murong Clan was.
“The three Outer Hall warriors are dead, and only the two people who did not take Black Path money returned alive. Anyone with something to hide will either try to silence us or investigate us.”
Han So-gyeom had nodded at Cheon Hwi's words.
“Killing us to eliminate the witnesses would be simplest. They may even try to make sure I die. They will likely think the Guarding Martial Authority member vanished like a phantom.”
Han So-gyeom had agreed with that as well.
Then Han So-gyeom laughed.
What a madman. He had seen countless madmen in the Martial World, but never one like this.
‘He treats his own death as a given.’
How could he? Even a fairly mad person treated killing others as a given, not their own death. This young man seemed to have no hesitation at all about death and killing.
Cheon Hwi dryly wiped the blood spattered across his face.
‘His movements just now were the same.’
As he had cut through the Black Path group, Cheon Hwi had charged forward as though he had been there before.
He slid across the ground, twisting his body to avoid killing formations faster than Han So-gyeom could, landing and swinging his sword in every direction.
He moved as though he knew the enemy's positions and movements, even the conditions that activated the killing formations.
Han So-gyeom had been so awestruck by the sight of Cheon Hwi cutting down three or four people at a time as he ran that he had stood there blankly for a moment.
Of course, Han So-gyeom had no way of knowing that it was the optimal route Cheon Hwi had discovered after dying dozens of times.
‘That is... just an ordinary wanderer?’
Recalling that moment, Han So-gyeom lightly kicked Black Hound's head and spoke.
“Are you injured? Your clothes are soaked in blood... It isn't your blood, is it?”
“I don't think so... probably?”
“Probably...?”
At the Guarding Martial Authority member's question of concern, Cheon Hwi shook his head.
“I'd like to rest first.”
Cheon Hwi was tired enough to die.
‘If I die from exhaustion, surely I won't wake up in Black Pheasant Valley.’
That was what Cheon Hwi feared most at the moment.
* * *
Several hours passed, and the sun rose.
Soon, the Murong Clan was thrown into an uproar.
At the center of the uproar was, unsurprisingly, Cheon Hwi. The scouting party had not merely returned. They had destroyed one of the Black Path's strongholds.
The Outer Hall Chief Steward narrowed their eyes as they looked back and forth between the severed head on the table and the bloodstained ledger.
It was certainly the head of a locally notorious Black Path faction leader.
The problem was the wanderer kneeling before them, Cheon Hwi.
He was the leading contributor who had destroyed a Black Path stronghold and brought back the ledger.
‘He is tempting. Good swordsmen are always in short supply.’
Cheon Hwi had already shown sufficient potential to become an Outer Hall warrior when he defeated Murong Jun in their sparring match. Now his practical combat ability had been proven as well.
The chief administrator could not help wanting him.
So the chief administrator summoned Cheon Hwi, seated him before them, and continued.
“Cheon Hwi, was it?”
“Yes.”
“You have gone through much hardship in this matter. You attacked a stronghold on the outskirts of Black Pheasant Valley and brought back both Black Hound's head and the ledger. They say an awl in a sack will always pierce through. It seems we have only now recognized the pearl that had been rolling in the dirt.”
“I was fortunate.”
“Fortune?”
“Fortune alone cannot cut off Black Hound's head. Black Hound gave several of our Outer Hall warriors trouble. Yet you returned alive with only a Guarding Martial Authority member beside you.”
“The Guarding Martial Authority member deserves most of the credit.”
“You are humble as well.”
“I merely spoke the truth.”
He did not seem easily excited or intimidated. Though the young wanderer bowed his head, he somehow resembled a beast that would not let anyone place a collar around its neck.
The chief administrator tapped the ledger on the table with a finger.
Tap, tap.
“We lost three Outer Hall warriors in this matter. It is not an enormous loss, but a subjugation force is about to be formed, and we cannot leave those positions vacant for long. Therefore...”
Cheon Hwi calmly waited for the words to follow.
“I would like to bring you into the Murong Clan as an Outer Hall warrior. What do you think?”
Cheon Hwi did not appear particularly surprised, as though he had expected this much.
Naturally, he had discussed it with Han So-gyeom beforehand.
“I will recommend you to the Outer Hall Chief Steward. Have them fill an Outer Hall warrior's vacant position with you.”
That meant entering the Outer Hall to see who moved, who hid, and who targeted his throat.
“Why should I put myself in danger?”
“Rather than joining the subjugation force and dying for nothing, wouldn't it be better for your survival to learn even the martial arts manuals issued to Outer Hall warriors?”
“I have no intention of wearing a collar and becoming the Clan's dog.”
“Make a counteroffer. Ask to be allowed to leave whenever you wish.”
“Is that possible?”
“What would make it impossible? The martial arts manuals given to Outer Hall warriors will likely be no more than diluted low-grade manuals, meant to cause no issue even if they leave the Clan at any time.”
‘The Murong Clan's martial arts manuals...’
“Thank you for this generous offer. I have one request.”
“Speak.”
“Please allow me to quit and leave whenever I wish.”
“That will not be a problem.”
Cheon Hwi would wear a collar, but no stake would be driven into the ground. He would be free to remove it and leave whenever he wished.
“Very well.”
The chief administrator took a small metal token from inside their robe.
Bold characters were engraved on it.
Murong Outer Hall.
In the surrounding region, it would serve as an identification token with considerable influence.
“The knot cord attached to the token distinguishes the ranks of Outer Hall warriors. A white cord signifies the lowest rank, a red cord a middle rank, and a yellow cord a senior, high-ranking Outer Hall warrior.”
The cord on Cheon Hwi's token was white.
“Take it.”
Then the chief administrator looked to the martial artist standing behind them.
“Bring out the items issued to Outer Hall warriors. Assign him clothes and a place to stay as well.”
“Yes, Chief Administrator.”
Cheon Hwi put away the token, gave a clasped-fist salute, and left.
The sun blazed high overhead. Cheon Hwi looked up at the sky and frowned at the fierce sunlight piercing through his bamboo hat.
‘Father. The moment I entered the Central Plains, I became a Clan dog.’
Cheon Hwi's eyes narrowed and settled beneath the bamboo hat.
‘Of course, this is not a collar I intend to wear for long.’
Once Cheon Hwi left and the door closed, Han So-gyeom stepped out from the shadow behind the folding screen.
“It seems you have taken a liking to that wanderer, Hero Han.”
“Yes. Very much.”
Han So-gyeom did not hide it.
“Do not worry. I will train him well before he joins the White Night Unit.”
Han So-gyeom smirked and came to the main subject.
“Now then, I believe we should begin discussing those three Outer Hall warriors from yesterday.”
.
.
.
At that time, Cheon Hwi was walking down a long corridor behind an Outer Hall martial officer.
At the end of the corridor, the door to an old archive opened.
The scent of dust and old paper washed over him. Cheon Hwi's heart pounded as he was finally about to encounter proper martial arts manuals from a martial clan for the first time.
Thump, thump.
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