After descending from the mountains, Cheon Woojin had already decided on his first destination.
The Martial Alliance.
It was the greatest coalition of the Orthodox Path in the present age.
Originally, the alliance had been established to oppose the Heavenly Demon, whose overwhelming martial prowess had once plunged the Central Plains into a sea of blood.
Its influence had since grown to astonishing proportions.
Virtually every major orthodox sect and prestigious martial family throughout the Central Plains was said to belong to the Martial Alliance.
Its founding principles were righteousness, chivalry, peace, justice, and the eradication of evil.
Naturally, countless young martial artists without influential families or powerful sects behind them dreamed of joining its ranks.
After all, the Martial Alliance was one of the few organizations under heaven where a person's abilities could earn them a position of power regardless of their birth or status.
Of course, Cheon Woojin had no intention of becoming a warrior of the Martial Alliance himself.
He merely wished to deliver some news to a junior martial artist whom his White Master had held in particularly high regard.
Recalling the final wishes of his two masters, Cheon Woojin couldn't help but chuckle.
To Woojin.
That was how the White Master's last will had begun.
Astonishingly, the document had taken half a day to read.
In truth, calling it a will was rather generous.
It was practically an entire book devoted to the old man's lifelong philosophies on righteousness, chivalry, and the proper conduct of a virtuous martial artist.
Buried among those countless teachings were the names of five righteous individuals whom Cheon Woojin was instructed to inform of his master's passing.
The first was a martial artist of the Martial Alliance known as the Sword Slower Than a Turtle.
"How does someone even end up with a nickname like that...?"
Cheon Woojin cleared his throat.
Still, anyone who had earned the White Master's recognition must surely be a man of exceptional virtue.
The Black Master's will, on the other hand, had been refreshingly simple.
Don't skip meals.
That was it.
Cheon Woojin burst into a quiet laugh.
There had been times when his Black Master's eccentric personality had genuinely frightened him.
Yet now that he would never see the old man again, even those memories filled him with a strange sense of longing.
Lost in thought, Cheon Woojin continued on his way.
Before he knew it, he had covered a considerable distance.
And soon—
The vast blue waters of Poyang Lake spread out before him.
The lake stretched so far into the distance that its opposite shore was nowhere to be seen.
A broad horizon divided the blue waters from the sky, making the lake resemble an endless sea.
Cheon Woojin stopped for a moment to take in the scenery.
Boats of every shape and size came and went across the water.
Along the shore, vendors had set up stalls selling simple meals and cheap liquor, while travelers and merchants wandered between them.
The reason he had come here was simple.
He intended to take a boat.
From Jiangxi Province, where he currently stood, the waterways connected to the mighty Yangtze River, which flowed toward Wuhan in Hubei Province.
And Wuhan was where the Martial Alliance was located.
There was no particularly compelling reason for him to travel by water.
He had simply remembered the occasional outings he had enjoyed aboard ferryboats with his White Master.
Those memories had made him want to experience the journey again.
"Besides, it'll give me a chance to see what people are like these days."
It had been several years since he had last descended from the mountains.
Having finally emerged into the wider world, he had little desire to spend the next several days running alone through deserted mountain paths.
Cheon Woojin stood by the shore, watching sunlight shimmer across the surface of Poyang Lake.
Just then—
"Hey! Young man over there! Aren't you coming aboard?"
A rough voice called out from nearby.
Cheon Woojin turned.
The speaker was a middle-aged man whose appearance suited his gruff voice perfectly.
He had a massive frame that seemed almost as broad as the boat beside him, a thick neck, a bushy beard, and a pair of steady, piercing eyes.
There was something about him that suggested a man who had spent his entire life enduring hardship.
As Cheon Woojin stared at him, the boatman spoke again.
"This boat's headed for Hubei. We're leaving soon!"
Hubei.
That was precisely where Cheon Woojin needed to go.
Unfortunately, there was one small problem.
He reached into his robes.
Then searched again.
"..."
He had no money.
Not a single coin.
It was hardly surprising.
Living deep in the mountains, he had never needed money in the first place.
The boatman watched him for a moment before speaking.
"You're headed to the Martial Alliance, aren't you?"
"Pardon?"
Cheon Woojin's eyes widened.
How did he know?
He hadn't mentioned the Martial Alliance to anyone.
Yet this complete stranger had somehow guessed his destination at a glance.
Cheon Woojin's expression grew solemn.
Seeing his reaction, the boatman burst into hearty laughter.
"Hahaha! Surprised, are you? I've been doing this for thirty years, lad. These days, I can tell where someone's headed just by looking into their eyes!"
"...My masters always said the world was filled with extraordinary talents and eccentrics."
So it was true.
A mere boatman could discern someone's destination simply by looking into their eyes!
The world beyond the mountains was indeed full of remarkable individuals.
"Huh? What's that?"
The boatman blinked.
Then he threw back his head and laughed.
"Hahahaha! You're an amusing one, aren't you? That's right! I'm the great eccentric of Poyang Lake! A rare genius among boatmen!"
He grinned.
"I'm in a good mood today. Come on, get aboard!"
"Are you certain?"
"Of course! I'm the boatman, aren't I? What I say goes! Besides, it's not as though carrying one extra passenger will cost me anything."
Cheon Woojin felt a sudden warmth spread through his chest.
So the White Master was right.
There truly were many good people in the world.
"Thank you very much."
"Hahaha! May fortune favor you in your martial pursuits, young man!"
Cheon Woojin bowed his head respectfully and boarded the vessel.
However—
The moment he stepped onto the deck, he realized something.
The boatman was neither an extraordinary genius nor a mysterious eccentric.
"..."
The vessel was packed with young martial artists.
Some possessed reasonably impressive cultivation for their age, but there wasn't a single true master among them.
Judging from their bearing and the flow of their internal energy, they were all promising young talents of the Orthodox Path.
A boat bound for Hubei.
Filled almost entirely with young orthodox martial artists.
Cheon Woojin turned toward the boatman.
"The Martial Alliance's recruitment examination must be approaching, then?"
"Hoho! So you've figured it out!"
Once every three years, the Martial Alliance held a grand examination to recruit new members into its ranks.
Young martial artists from across the Central Plains gathered for the occasion, each carrying dreams of glory and advancement.
Only now did Cheon Woojin understand the boatman's earlier words.
May fortune favor you in your martial pursuits.
The man had simply assumed that Cheon Woojin was another candidate heading to the examination.
Cheon Woojin fell into thought.
Then he let me aboard because he misunderstood...
If the White Master discovered that he had accepted a stranger's generosity under false pretenses, the old man would undoubtedly give him a stern lecture.
Just as that thought crossed his mind—
It's not as though you lied, is it? That bear of a boatman jumped to his own conclusions!
The Black Master's familiar voice seemed to echo inside his head.
"..."
Cheon Woojin glanced at the enormous boatman.
After a moment's consideration, he quietly made his way to an empty corner of the deck and sat down.
The boatman watched him with a satisfied smile.
Then he raised the anchor and shouted in his booming voice.
"All right, everyone! We're off!"
He looked positively delighted.
Just as he had told Cheon Woojin, he was indeed in an excellent mood.
After all, the Martial Alliance's recruitment examination came around only once every three years.
And whenever it did, the number of passengers traveling to Hubei increased dramatically.
For a boatman, it was a rare opportunity to make a small fortune.
How could he possibly stop smiling?
******
Cheon Woojin squatted quietly near the edge of the deck, letting the cool breeze wash over him.
Yet despite the pleasant weather, something continued to weigh on his mind.
He showed me kindness, and I repaid him by taking advantage of his misunderstanding...
Perhaps he ought to tell the boatman the truth.
Or better yet, simply get off the boat.
Of course, the vessel was already crossing the vast waters of Poyang Lake.
But that posed no particular difficulty for Cheon Woojin.
The ability to walk across water was something he had mastered so long ago that he could barely remember learning it.
He could easily return to shore whenever he wished.
Still undecided, he allowed his gaze to wander across the deck.
The young martial artists had gathered into small groups of three or five, chatting among themselves.
Some were visibly nervous about the upcoming examination.
Others spoke passionately of their ambitions, boldly declaring that they would one day become the leader of the Martial Alliance.
Cheon Woojin listened with mild interest.
Then his attention settled on two individuals.
The first was a young man leaning against the railing, gazing wistfully across the lake.
He possessed striking, well-defined features, yet there was a certain delicacy to his appearance that made him exceptionally handsome.
As stray droplets of water caught the sunlight around him, the shimmering reflections made him look almost like a figure from a painting.
He's certainly good-looking.
The thought came naturally.
And judging by the frequent glances cast his way by the young women aboard, Cheon Woojin was hardly alone in that assessment.
The second person was a young woman seated a considerable distance away from the others.
Her expression was perfectly composed.
Or perhaps bored would have been a more accurate description.
Even Cheon Woojin, who had spent most of his life secluded in the mountains, could immediately recognize her extraordinary beauty.
Her features were elegant and refined, while her clear, intelligent eyes lent her an icy, unapproachable air.
The other young martial artists seemed equally aware of her presence.
Yet none dared approach.
They merely admired her from a distance.
Of course, Cheon Woojin hadn't taken notice of these two solely because of their appearances.
They're on an entirely different level.
Among all the young martial artists aboard, those two were unquestionably the strongest.
And it wasn't a matter of being slightly more talented than their peers.
The gap between them and the others was enormous.
It was then—
"Do you enjoy staring at pretty young ladies that much?"
A voice suddenly sounded beside him.
Before Cheon Woojin could respond, someone sat down next to him with the easy familiarity of an old friend.
It was the handsome young man who had been attracting so much attention from the women.
Cheon Woojin frowned.
"I wasn't looking at her because she's pretty."
"Oh, come now."
The young man's lips curled into an amused smile.
Cheon Woojin felt rather unfairly accused.
Nevertheless, he decided that explaining himself would only make matters worse.
So he remained silent.
The young man continued cheerfully.
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Song Yiyeon, from Anhui."
"Cheon Woojin."
Having offered his name, Cheon Woojin turned his gaze back toward the water.
He merely wanted to enjoy the scenery.
Unfortunately, he now found himself worrying that the beautiful young woman might enter his field of vision again and invite another misunderstanding.
Song Yiyeon chuckled.
"You're quite the stoic young hero, aren't you? Are you headed to the Martial Alliance?"
"That's right."
"Me too!"
Cheon Woojin nodded.
That was all.
Song Yiyeon seemed entirely undeterred by his lack of enthusiasm.
Instead, he leaned a little closer.
"Young Hero Cheon, I'll let you in on something."
"...?"
"I'm going to become the leader of the Martial Alliance."
"..."
Cheon Woojin stared at him.
And what exactly am I supposed to do with that information?
Before he could decide how to respond, Song Yiyeon continued.
"But you know, after looking around this boat, I've realized something. You're the only person here who could actually threaten that dream of mine."
He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
"Seriously, where did a monster like you come from?"
Cheon Woojin frowned.
"Calling someone a monster the first time you meet them seems rather rude."
"Ahem!"
Song Yiyeon cleared his throat.
"My apologies. That was improper of me."
Then he smiled awkwardly.
"It's just that I've never met anyone my own age who's as strong as you. Back home, I was considered quite a promising young talent, you know."
Cheon Woojin shook his head.
"I still have a long way to go before I can call myself strong."
He meant it sincerely.
After all, the standard by which Cheon Woojin measured martial prowess was none other than his two masters.
Compared to them, how could he possibly consider himself strong?
Song Yiyeon looked positively disgusted.
"Ugh! You really shouldn't say things like that in front of other people."
"Why?"
"Because if someone like you is weak, then everyone else on this boat is nothing but—"
He abruptly stopped himself.
Several nearby martial artists had begun glancing in their direction.
Song Yiyeon cleared his throat.
"Ahem! Never mind."
He quickly changed the subject.
"Anyway, Young Hero Cheon, I have a feeling we'll be seeing quite a lot of each other from now on. I hope we'll get along."
Cheon Woojin said nothing.
Song Yiyeon continued undeterred.
"To tell you the truth, this is my first time venturing into the murim. I've heard that most people fail the Martial Alliance examination two or three times before finally being accepted."
He straightened his back with confidence.
"But I'm different! I'm going to pass on my very first attempt!"
Cheon Woojin nodded.
Judging by Song Yiyeon's cultivation, it was unlikely that he would have much difficulty passing the examination.
"I'll be rooting for you."
"Kuh!"
Song Yiyeon pressed a hand against his chest as though deeply moved.
"As expected! You're one of those men who's cold on the outside but warm on the inside!"
"...What?"
"You know! Someone who looks cold and indifferent but actually has a warm heart!"
"..."
Cheon Woojin shook his head in exasperation.
He was beginning to wonder whether this fellow ever stopped talking.
Then Song Yiyeon discreetly held something out to him.
It was a rice ball.
"Would you like one, Young Hero Cheon?"
Cheon Woojin examined it.
"It doesn't look particularly appetizing."
"My mother made it."
"Let's eat."
His answer came without the slightest hesitation.
And so, the two young men sat side by side, silently eating rice balls.
After all—
Don't skip meals.
Those had been the Black Master's final words.
Surely, there was no greater way to honor his master's wishes.
Eventually, only one rice ball remained.
Cheon Woojin offered it to Song Yiyeon.
Song Yiyeon gently pushed it back toward him.
"No, you have it."
"You should eat it."
"I insist."
Just as the two were politely trying to force the last rice ball upon each other—
BOOOOM!
A deafening explosion shook the vessel.
The entire boat lurched violently from side to side.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
At the same instant, dozens of iron chains shot through the air.
Spreading like a giant spiderweb, they hooked themselves firmly into the bow of the vessel.
A moment later, three enormous ships emerged from the dense reeds along the waterway.
"P-PIRATES!"
Someone screamed.
The young martial artists immediately backed away from the chains in alarm.
Amid the sudden commotion—
Squish.
A passing foot came down directly on the rice ball between Cheon Woojin and Song Yiyeon.
"...!"
Song Yiyeon's eyes widened.
Then—
"MY RICE BALL!"
His anguished cry rang across the deck.
Meanwhile, burly martial artists began crossing over from the pirate ships, using the chains as makeshift bridges.
Unlike the other passengers, who had begun moving about in confusion, Song Yiyeon remained remarkably composed.
Cheon Woojin glanced at him.
"Aren't you going to run, Young Hero Song?"
"Why would I?"
Song Yiyeon looked genuinely puzzled.
"This is a matter between the boatman and the pirates. It has nothing to do with us."
His reasoning was hardly unusual.
Encounters with pirates along these waterways were as common as summer rain.
Typically, such incidents ended when the boatman handed over a few coins as a toll.
The pirates would collect their money, preserve their reputation, and leave without causing further trouble.
There was little reason for anyone else to become involved.
Cheon Woojin looked around.
The other young martial artists seemed to share Song Yiyeon's opinion.
They had moved out of the way, but none appeared particularly concerned.
Even the cold-looking young woman remained seated.
The few martial artists who possessed relatively impressive cultivation showed no intention of intervening.
And those who had been loudly proclaiming their ambitions to become the next Martial Alliance Leader?
They were standing around watching as well.
Some even appeared amused.
Could the Black Master have been right about them, too?
The Martial Alliance.
An organization supposedly devoted to protecting justice and defending the weak.
Yet these young martial artists, who dreamed of becoming its future warriors, seemed perfectly content to stand aside while pirates extorted an ordinary boatman.
A few even chuckled as though they were watching an entertaining performance.
Cheon Woojin's gaze darkened slightly.
Meanwhile, the boatman who had offered him passage stepped forward.
Rubbing his palms together, he approached the pirates with a broad, ingratiating smile.
"Aigoo! Our esteemed heroes have arrived!"
Seeing his submissive attitude, the pirates grinned.
It appeared that the matter would be settled without incident.
"Well, well! If it isn't Boatman Jang!"
"Hahaha! Yes, yes! It's me!"
Boatman Jang hurriedly reached into his robes and produced a pouch of coins.
One of the pirates accepted it as naturally as though receiving money from an old acquaintance.
He even gave the boatman a familiar pat on the shoulder.
"You know the toll has gone up recently, don't you?"
"...Ah. Yes, of course."
"Normally, we'd have to spill a little blood to make sure word gets around."
The pirate's grin widened.
At those ominous words, Boatman Jang visibly flinched.
"But we've known our dear Boatman Jang for so long, haven't we?"
The pirate revealed a mouthful of yellow teeth.
"It wouldn't be right to make things too difficult for an old friend. Wouldn't you agree?"
How amusing.
Pirates were discussing what was right and proper in front of a boatload of aspiring warriors of the Orthodox Path.
Yet not a single one of those young martial artists stepped forward.
Boatman Jang forced a smile.
"O-of course! Next time, I'll make sure to prepare the full amount for the increased toll."
He laughed nervously.
"Fortunately, business has been rather good lately. You see, there are quite a few candidates traveling to the Martial Alliance examination this year..."
It was a subtle remark.
Boatman Jang wanted the pirates to understand that his passengers were young martial artists of the Orthodox Path.
Perhaps that knowledge would encourage them to take their money and leave without causing any trouble.
After all, these were sword-wielding outlaws.
They might be smiling one moment and drawing blood the next.
Unfortunately—
His attempt at a warning had precisely the opposite effect.
The pirate's expression twisted.
"...What was that?"
Boatman Jang blinked.
"Pardon?"
"Are you threatening me?"
"W-what?!"
The boatman hurriedly waved his hands.
"N-no! How could I possibly—"
"Is that so?"
The pirate's smile vanished.
"Because it sounded to me like you were hoping we'd get scared and piss ourselves just because you've got a few righteous-path bastards sitting on your boat."
"N-no, sir! That's not what I meant!"
Boatman Jang bowed his head repeatedly.
But the pirate's hand tightened around his shoulder.
"Well, I suppose you've got a point."
The pirate glanced toward the passengers.
"Who knows? There might be a son of some prestigious martial family among them. Maybe one of these brats will even become a member of the Martial Alliance someday."
His voice grew colder.
"So naturally, we can't just go around causing trouble, can we?"
"..."
Boatman Jang remained silent.
The pirate leaned closer.
"But tell me something, Boatman Jang."
"Y-yes?"
"Are you a righteous martial artist?"
"...Pardon?"
"Are you a member of the Martial Alliance?"
"N-no, sir..."
"Then why the hell are you acting so high and mighty?"
The pirate's fingers dug deeper into the boatman's shoulder.
Song Yiyeon had been right about one thing.
This was strictly a dispute between the boatman and the pirates.
The young martial artists had no direct involvement.
And apparently, that was all the justification they needed to remain spectators.
The pirate circulated his internal energy.
His grip tightened with terrifying force.
Crack.
Boatman Jang's face contorted.
"K-keugh...!"
A strangled groan escaped his lips as the pirate's hand tightened around his neck.
His enormous frame trembled.
He tried desperately to pull away, but the pirate's grip wouldn't budge.
And then—
Cheon Woojin rose to his feet.
The movement immediately drew everyone's attention.
Song Yiyeon, who had been sitting beside him, quickly caught his sleeve.
"Young Hero Cheon."
He lowered his voice.
"What are you doing?"
Cheon Woojin said nothing.
He simply pulled his sleeve free.
The boatman had shown him kindness.
That alone was reason enough.
Had the White Master been present, he would undoubtedly have struck the pirate down with a single blow for tormenting an innocent man.
And even the Black Master had once told him—
Picking on the weak doesn't make you a villain. It just makes you an idiot.
On this matter, at least, his two masters would have agreed.
Cheon Woojin walked toward the pirates.
Then he stopped in front of them.
The young martial artists watched with growing interest.
Apart from Song Yiyeon, whose expression had turned serious, the others looked positively delighted.
At last!
Something entertaining to break the monotony of their long voyage.
Cheon Woojin addressed the pirates politely.
"Excuse me. Might you be experiencing financial difficulties?"
"...What?"
The pirate stared at him.
Cheon Woojin continued in the same courteous tone.
"For instance, perhaps you have an elderly mother to care for, but can't afford the medicine she needs?"
"W-what the hell are you talking about?"
"If that's not the case, would you consider letting this matter go for today?"
Cheon Woojin glanced at the suffering boatman.
"This man showed me kindness. I wouldn't feel right simply standing by and pretending I hadn't seen what happened."
The pirates stared at him for a moment.
Then several burst into incredulous laughter.
The leader looked him up and down.
"What's this? Are you the son of some prestigious family?"
"I'm an orphan."
"..."
The pirate blinked.
"Then where did you learn your martial arts?"
"In the mountains."
"..."
The pirates exchanged glances.
Their thoughts were practically identical.
So he's just some nameless brat with no family or backing.
We can kill him without worrying about the consequences.
Unfortunately, there was one rather important fact they had overlooked.
In the murim, a young martial artist who had just descended from the mountains was someone to be especially wary of.
Had these pirates grown up in households that could afford even a single martial arts novel, they might have known that much.
But alas.
They had not.
Cheon Woojin spoke once more.
"First, why don't you release the boatman? We can talk afterward."
As he spoke, he reached out and lightly took hold of the pirate's wrist.
It was an almost casual gesture.
There was no visible exertion.
No dramatic surge of internal energy.
Just a gentle grip.
And yet—
CRACK!
The pirate's wrist twisted at an impossible angle.
"KYAAAAARGH!"
A bloodcurdling scream erupted from his throat.
The hand gripping Boatman Jang immediately went limp.
At the same instant—
SHIIING!
The surrounding pirates drew their heavy broadswords.
Their faces twisted with murderous rage.
"KILL HIM!"