The morning after Wu Cheng and Tang Yeol appeared, and requested a duel with Wudang. Zhenghai decided to head straight to the alliance. He must inform the leader about the schemes of Silent Edge.
A cold silence lingered in the Alliance chambers. Zhenghai stood before Namgung Hyeon and Strategist Li, his posture rigid. The room smelled of incense and ink—documents laid out like battlefield formations.
"Yeol and Wu Cheng have formally requested a spar between disciples," Zhenghai said. "They want to take Ryul under Silent Edge's banner. They say it is something that So-Yeon has requested and they have a right to do so since he is a Tang. My men say they heard the two old men discussing who is fighting when they left. They plan to use the boy who won the tournament. I suppose they don't care about Ryul as much as they put on."
Namgung Hyeon slammed his hand on the table. "These three again. Refusing to come under the Alliance. Always challenging my authority. A pain in my ass." Strategist Li, ever composed, offered a faint, precise smile — a surgeon's calm. "Permit the spar. Assign a grandmaster whose blade is hungry for a breakthrough. Do not kill the boy — cripple him. Precise wounds breed desperation. Yeol and Wu Cheng will respond, and then we excise them."
Zhenghai's brow furrowed. "You want to provoke them?"
"Exactly," Li continued, each word measured like a blade stroke. "They will break their stance to shield Ryul. When they do, you can paint them as traitors. And you Alliance Leader will let the world will see their insubordination. You will step in as the savior. You will have a license to sever them."
"And what of the treasure that boy is supposed to be granted from the vault? What if he gets his hand on something that helps him win?" Zhenghai asked.
"We delay the vault ceremony." Hyeon replied flatly. "If the boy dies, we save a treasure. If he survives, we use him to bait the elders. Either way, Silent Edge loses."
Zhenghai's face twisted. "You know my brother and Yeol could wipe out Wudang on their own if they wanted. Who's to say they won't?"
Namgung Hyeon smirked. "I say they won't. I'll be waiting with the Iron Order just outside of the Wudang compound. If they move, they fall."
Strategist Li placed a composed, icy hand on Zhenghai's shoulder. "This is a surgical incision, Patriarch. Trust the leader's scalpel."
The chamber fell silent. Namgung Hyeon leaned back in his chair, the echo of Zhenghai's footsteps barely faded.
Alone now, he chuckled under his breath and rubbed his temples. "Finally…" he murmured. "I can start cutting away the thorns in my side."
He let the silence stretch, savoring it like fine wine.
Then—
A ripple. The air behind him shivered, and a low, guttural hum rolled through the room like a war drum in slow motion. Dust kicked up from the polished floors. The scent of sulfur and scorched metal filled the air. Namgung Hyeon didn't flinch.
The red gate tore itself open behind his throne—no ceremony, no warning, just a jagged gash in reality, crackling with infernal energy. Out stepped a towering figure, eight feet tall and monstrous. The demon's skin was crimson, thick like scorched leather, with blackened runes seared into its flesh as if chiseled by flame. Horns curled upward like a crown, and from beneath its heavy brow, two eyes glowed a deep, predatory yellow. He wore nothing but a coarse cloth around his waist. His nails—long, curved like scythes—clicked together as he reached out and placed one clawed hand gently on the Alliance Leader's shoulder.
A gesture that looked almost… familiar. "So…" the demon rumbled, voice a deep thunder. "How did the farming go this year?"
Namgung Hyeon exhaled slowly, his back still turned. His voice dropped to the tone of a man reporting to a higher power.
"Yes. Much better than the last harvest. Quite a few promising prospects… more than past years." The demon's grin widened.
"Good. Because the ones you've sent lately? Barely useful. Most burn out before they can even serve as shields. He is growing… impatient."
Hyeon's fingers curled on the arm of his chair. "I don't need a reminder."
The demon's claw dug in slightly. "Don't mistake this as one. It's a warning."
Namgung Hyeon finally turned his head slightly, just enough to show a flicker of defiance. "You don't need to tell me twice. This is my world. When your master finishes, I'll be the one sitting above it all."
The demon's lips peeled back in what might have been a smile—or a snarl. "Spoken like a man clinging to a delusion. Do your job, little king."
With a motion like flicking a fly, the demon tossed a worn leather sack onto the Alliance Leader's desk. The bag burst open as it landed, spilling glowing red crystals across the surface—each one pulsing like a heartbeat.
"These will help," the demon said, stepping back toward the gate. "They corrupt the gifted—those blessed by the golden pantheon. Drain their system's light and fill it with rot. Their thoughts will twist… their wills bend."
Namgung Hyeon's eyes narrowed. "And those without systems?" "They will be less than that. Mindless. But obedient. Loyal to only him."
Hyeon stared down at the crystals, lips tightening. The demon paused at the threshold of the gate. "Use them wisely. You know what happens to those who fail him."
The red mist surged, swallowing the demon whole. The gate slammed shut with a thunderous crack—like a door to hell locking behind it. The silence returned.
Namgung Hyeon stood slowly. Then he slammed both hands down on his desk, rattling the red crystals to the floor. His face twisted — not with fear, but with rage. "I'll start with Silent Edge," he whispered.
And the shadows in the room seemed to listen. His breath calmed. His mind wandered to old blood. Like I did to Jihun and his pitiful wife, he thought.
They all forget. Jihun, heir of the Tang, who had dared to shame the Namgung name. Chose a common barmaid over my sister — a slap to my family's face.
Yoryeon let him run off, let him live quietly outside Chengdu. A disgrace. So I fixed it. I sent my best men, wearing bandit colors, to corner him on a merchant road. No one ever questioned it. I even lost some good men to that bastard. He did die swinging though, still thinking he could protect anything.
And the woman?
She was simply returning back to her house from the market in Chengdu. And I made certain an assassin greeted her — left her corpse on their doorstep for Yoryeon and her children to find. Let the Tang remember what happens when they cross Namgung.
Hyeon exhaled, shaking the dark memory from his thoughts. A cold grin broke across his face. "They dare defy me, when i am gracious enough to bring Ryul into the Iron Order. This...this will be their end."
"Yes," he repeated softly, as if to steady himself. "Silent Edge next, then Tang."