The Legend of the Northern Blade

Across the vast skies stretches the Web of Heaven, a celestial network that seems delicately interwoven yet infinitely complex. Trapping connections and destinies, it ensures that those fated to meet will inevitably find each other, even should their paths be shadowed by unending malevolence.

“Ah!” escaped from Hwang Cheol as the familiar bustle of Lanzhou unfolded before him, its vibrant streets lined with inns and brothels, culminating at the majestic gates of the White Dragon Merchant Association.

“We’re finally back,” Yoon Ja-Myeong muttered, his face a complex mix of emotions.

He was not alone. The surviving martial artists of the White Dragon Merchant Association were visibly moved, tears threatening to spill from their eyes. The news of their return had obviously spread, as important figures like Noh Tae-Tae were already there, waiting at the gates to welcome them home.

“Children!” Noh Tae-Tae’s voice cracked as she rushed towards Yoon Ja-Myeong and Yoon Seo-In, tears streaming down her face.

For the Iron Brigade martial artists who had traveled so far and fought so hard for Yoon Ja-Myeong’s safe return, this scene was heartwarming. Their exhaustion was evident, but the joy of seeing a family reunited made it all worthwhile.

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After embracing her children, Noh Tae-Tae turned to Hwang Cheol. “I’m relieved that you’re back safely, Escort Hwang. You must have faced many hardships because of my son.”

“Not at all, Matriarch,” Hwang Cheol replied, scratching his head and gesturing to the Iron Brigade. “These fine warriors were the ones who did the heavy lifting.”

Noh Tae-Tae smiled warmly at his modesty. Her gaze then shifted to Kwak Moon-Jung, who stood quietly by Hwang Cheol’s side, wearing a look of calm determination rather than zealous youth.

He has changed. Is it because of that man? Noh Tae-Tae pondered, remembering Jin Mu-Won’s remarkable deeds on behalf of the White Dragon Merchant Association. His feats were legendary, not only defeating Mu-Jin of the Kongtong Sect, but also demonstrating incredible prowess in Yuxi against mighty foes like the Silent Night and the Tyrant Fist Sect.

These accomplishments had earned him the alias “Northern Blade”, a grandiose title rarely bestowed upon young martial artists in the jianghu. In fact, he was the first since Dam Soo-Cheon, the “Lone Star of the Azure Sky,” to make such an impressive splash.

Nevertheless, for Noh Tae-Tae, Jin Mu-Won was even greater than Dam Soo-Cheon. While Dam Soo-Cheon had gained fame through the Hundred Duels Trial, Jin Mu-Won had made his reputation by fighting on the brink of life and death.

Clearly, Jin Mu-Won was the catalyst for Kwak Moon-Jung’s growth, she thought, nodding to acknowledge the boy.

She then turned to Yong Mu-Sung. “Thank you for rescuing my third child. How can I ever repay your kindness?”

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“We only fulfilled our contract. It was our duty, so there’s no need to thank us.”

“But my heart feels otherwise.”

“If you must thank someone, thank Jin Mu-Won. Saying this hurts my pride, but he did most of the work.” Yong Mu-Sung scratched his head in embarrassment. Although it pained him to admit it, he couldn’t take credit for someone else’s effort.

Noh Tae-Tae smiled at his honesty. He, too, is an extraordinary person, she mused, then declared, “Fine, but since you and the Iron Brigade have honored your contract, we of the White Dragon Merchant Association will do the same.”

At her signal, a merchant produced a chest brimming with gold taels, enough to fulfill the wildest dreams of Yong Mu-Sung and his comrades.

“These gold taels were verified by the most reputable banks in the jianghu. Please check them.”

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“There’s no need for that. We trust the White Dragon Merchant Association’s integrity,” Yong Mu-Sung replied, entrusting the chest to Jongri Mu-Hwan.

“Please, come inside. We’ve prepared a banquet in your honor,” Noh Tae-Tae invited.

“I’m sorry, but we must decline.”

“What? But…”

“Although we appreciate the gesture, we must reach Heaven’s Summit as soon as possible. I sincerely apologize for the rush.”

Noh Tae-Tae was momentarily taken aback by Yong Mu-Sung’s unexpected refusal, but she quickly regained her composure and saluted him, “I see. If you must go, I won’t stop you.”

“Thank you, Matriarch. Also…” Yong Mu Sung paused. He thought about mentioning Hwang Cheol, but decided against it. Yoon Ja-Myeong and Gong Jin-Sung had already seen Hwang Cheol’s martial arts skills firsthand and would surely inform Noh Tae-Tae. For the White Dragon Merchant Association, getting a top martial artist like Hwang Cheol and maintaining ties with Jin Mu-Won was an undeniable advantage.

As if she understood the reason for Yong Mu-Sung’s silence, Noh Tae-Tae smiled. “Escort Hwang is a valued member of our White Dragon Merchant Association. We will take care of his well-being, so you need not worry.”

“I worried for nothing. We will take our leave now. Please take care of yourselves,” Yong Mu-Sung said.

“I wish you all a safe journey, Master Yong and the Iron Brigade.”

With a respectful bow, Yong Mu-Sung departed with the Iron Brigade.

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Hwang Cheol and Kwak Moon-Jung watched them go.

Sensing the urgency in Kwak Moon-Jung’s clenched fist, Hwang Cheol encouraged, ““We have no time to lose. Let’s head to the training grounds.”

“Yes!” Kwak Moon-Jung replied, determination evident in his voice.

Even on their way here, they had trained whenever they had the chance, but time was always scarce.

“Hyung, just wait a little longer. I’ll get stronger and join you soon,” Kwak Moon-Jung whispered, a fierce determination in his steps as he followed Hwang Cheol to the training grounds.

The city of Wuhan buzzed with unprecedented prosperity. Countless martial artists gathered there to enter Heaven’s Summit, attracting merchants and spectators from all over the Central Plains. The city’s inns and taverns were fully booked, nightclubs and brothels buzzed with life, and even street vendors reported record sales.

Although latecomers had to pay exorbitant prices for the few remaining accommodations, Jin Mu-Won’s group had no trouble finding a place to stay. Like other notable sects, the Tang Clan owned a modest but comfortable estate in Wuhan, far from prying eyes.

That evening, Jin Mu-Won took a relaxing stroll through the busy streets of Wuhan. Despite his growing reputation, few had actually seen his face, enabling him to walk around incognito.

After some time, a large brothel caught his eye. Courtesans in elegant dresses flirted from the windows, their laughter ringing out. Nonetheless, it was a small black flag below the window, a symbol of the Black Moon, that caught Jin Mu-Won’s attention.

Without hesitation, he stepped inside and was immediately greeted by squealing courtesans.

“Welcome, handsome Young Master!”

“Oh my, what a tall and fetching Young Master we have tonight! Today must be our lucky day!”

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The expression on Jin Mu-Won’s face remained unchanged in spite of their fussing, but this only made the courtesans more eager to vie for his attention.

Jin Mu-Won cut through their playful banter, saying, “I’m not here to drink.”

“Oh? And what does one seek in a brothel if not indulgence?” one teased.

“I seek the Black Moon.”

The flirtatious eyes of the courtesans sharpened, draining the warmth from the room.

“And who might you be, Young Master?” one inquired, her demeanor shifting from flirtatious to deadly.

“I am Jin Mu-Won.”

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“The Northern Blade?” The woman’s cold facade cracked slightly. Lowering her voice, she asked, “ Are you truly the Northern Blade Jin Mu-Won?”

“Yes.”

“Come with me.”

She led Jin Mu-Won down a corridor, occasionally casting curious glances his way.

Just as Jin Mu-Won suspected, this was indeed the Wuhan branch of the Black Moon, accessible only to those with considerable clout. Normally, Jin Mu-Won would have to verify his identity, but a recent unprecedented directive from the Black Moon’s leader had ordered them to help him unconditionally.

Is he really the Northern Blade? The courtesan wondered. She had heard about Jin Mu-Won, but had never seen him in person. The stories had described a formidable swordsman, but this young man seemed quite ordinary, except for his handsome appearance.

Reaching the end of the corridor, she tapped on the wall with a certain rhythm, revealing a secret room. Jin Mu-Won, who was familiar with such things, calmly followed her into the true location of Black Moon’s Wuhan branch.

Further inside, they approached a thick iron door. After a brief exchange through a small window, she turned to Jin Mu-Won. “Please wait here. There’s another guest ahead of you.”

“Mmhmm,” Jin Mu-Won nodded, then leaned casually against the wall, eyes closed.

When the door finally opened, the previous guest emerged. It was a hunchbacked old man dressed in rags, with matted hair and a large staff as his walking stick.

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Jin Mu-Won’s eyes flickered open in an instant.

“Hehe, what a sturdy young man,” the old man chuckled, flashing him a yellow-toothed grin before disappearing down the hall.

Intrigued, Jin Mu-Won gaze lingered on the departing figure.

“Please, enter, Master Jin,” the courtesan beckoned to him.

Jin Mu-Won stepped through the door into a dimly lit room, thick with the scent of incense. Seated behind a low table, a middle-aged man with a commanding aura and piercing eyes awaited him.

“Welcome, Northern Blade,” he greeted. “I am the head of the Black Moon’s Wuhan Branch. Please, take a seat.”

Jin Mu-Won seated himself across from the man, the atmosphere tense yet respectful. “I’ve come for information,” he said.

The branch head nodded. “Of course, anything for the Northern Blade.”