From the start, Gaebang had used its intelligence network with deadly precision. The rumor that the Sects and Heukwoon-gwan had formed an alliance began as nothing more than a spark, but Gaebang fanned the flames with expert hands. Within days, it had swept across Murim like wildfire. What could have been an opportunity for both factions to find common ground instead became a weapon that deepened the rift between them.
Chunhyang masterfully manipulated the flow of these rumors. There was no actual proof of any pact between the Sects and Heukwoon-gwan, but that mattered little. Her game was not about truth but influence. "The reason the Orthodox Sect wants to attack the Sects isn't because of some alliance with Heukwoon-gwan," she said with a wry smile as she raised her wine cup. "No, they're using Heukwoon-gwan as a pretext. What they really want is to weaken the Sects and extend their own dominance."
She amplified this message across her network, ensuring it reached the ears of influential martial artists on both sides. "Even if they strike first at the Sects, their true aim isn't an alliance—it's extermination. They want to dominate Murim."
The story spread like wildfire. The conflict between the Sects and the Orthodox faction was no longer about Heukwoon-gwan. The real battle was to undermine each other, and Heukwoon-gwan was merely the unfortunate scapegoat caught in the crossfire.
Adding another layer to the narrative, Chunhyang seeded whispers that the whole conflict had been orchestrated by the Demonic Sect. "Follow the thread, and you'll see clearly. While the Orthodox and Unorthodox Sects are busy tearing each other apart, the Demonic Sect watches from the shadows, tightening its grip on Murim."
The real puppet master, she insinuated, was the Demonic Sect. Long known for pulling strings from the shadows, they were now stoking the flames of war to solidify their foothold in Murim.
"While the great factions devour one another, the Demonic Sect laughs," she murmured. "They're ready to step into the power vacuum and take the throne."
As these rumors took root, the conflict between the Sects and the Orthodox faction became even more vicious. The supposed neutrality of Heukwoon-gwan was buried beneath escalating hostilities. With each whisper, Chunhyang drew focus away from Heukwoon-gwan and placed it squarely on the factions' internal feud. Her tactics had successfully escalated a cold war into a full-blown three-way conflict—one where no one could predict the victor.
Behind her mask of seduction and grace, Chunhyang was far more than just a courtesan of Pungwolru. She was a strategist, a tactician, and most importantly, a survivor.
She looked inward. All her moves thus far—every rumor, every manipulated conversation—had served not only to destabilize Murim's balance but also to anchor her identity. She was no ordinary woman of the brothel. She was a descendant of Goryeo, one who had endured exile and blood to reach this height.
"Everything that's led me here... it wasn't coincidence. I survived Goryeo. I built a throne in Pungwolru, and I will not let that go."
She bowed her head slightly, reaffirming her oath.
"I am a daughter of Goryeo. That pride, that identity—I will uphold it no matter how the winds of Murim shift."
Chunhyang was no longer just a player stirring factional turmoil. She was a woman claiming her rightful place in the history of Murim, prepared to rise not as a shadow, but as a name no one could ignore.
***
Chapter 207: The Recovery Site, A Possibility for Training
Within the cascading roar of the waterfall, Lee Do-hyun felt his body gradually recovering. Yet, amidst this healing, he pondered whether this sanctuary could also serve as a place for training. The pace of his recovery was swift, but it hinged upon the flow of mana coursing through him. This space absorbed mana's currents, but its size and structure could potentially limit that flow.
"This space is both vast and confined," Lee Do-hyun mused, surveying his surroundings. "While it's ample for movement, its constraints might hinder intensive training."
He recognized that the space's dimensions allowed for basic maneuvers, but channeling mana effectively for advanced techniques might prove challenging. Too expansive, and the mana would disperse; too narrow, and his movements would be restricted.
"If it were slightly more confined, I could concentrate the mana flow better. But if it's too tight, executing martial arts becomes problematic," he murmured, contemplating the site's potential.
The site's restorative properties stemmed from the ambient mana. However, for training, he needed to harness and direct this energy. He considered his swordsmanship, especially the 'Ego's Blade' technique, and how to adapt it here.
"Perhaps if I reduce the technique's intensity?" he pondered. "While it might expedite recovery, the training's efficacy could diminish."
Seeking alternatives, he thought, "What if I employ 'unqi-josik'—gathering and circulating mana internally—or focus on physical techniques?" This approach could simultaneously fortify his body and mind.
"By absorbing mana internally, akin to internal energy cultivation, I might achieve both recovery and training," he considered. "Yet, combining both might slow the overall progress."
Determined, he resolved, "Let's proceed step by step. First, accumulate mana, then attempt training. If I can harness the mana during recovery, I can refine my martial arts concurrently."
He began by sensing the mana around him, initiating the first phase of his plan. As he absorbed the energy, he felt not just physical rejuvenation but a deeper connection to the space. It was as if this place was more than a mere recovery site—it felt like a conduit to 'Elysium.'
"Elysium..." murmured the sword's spirit. "I yearn to return. If this place leads there, perhaps we can go back."
Lee Do-hyun understood the spirit's longing. Its desire to return to its origin resonated deeply. However, he sensed that this site wasn't the final gateway.
"This isn't the path to Elysium," he said softly. "It's merely a connecting point. We need to find the true passage elsewhere."
The spirit fell silent, then whispered, "Then, why does this place exist? What purpose does it serve?"
Closing his eyes, Lee Do-hyun delved deeper into the mana's flow, seeking clarity. This site wasn't the destination but a stepping stone—a place to gather strength and prepare for the journey ahead.
"This is just the beginning," he affirmed. "Here, we gather our strength, refine our skills, and seek the true path to Elysium."
The sword's spirit, though still yearning, understood. It recognized the need to build strength and await the right moment.
Resuming his practice, Lee Do-hyun focused on absorbing mana and sensing the space's nuances. His goal extended beyond mere recovery; he aimed to master the energy here and use it as a bridge to Elysium. Yet, he acknowledged the journey was far from over.
"Simultaneous recovery and training are feasible," he admitted, "but finding the path to our origin requires more."
The sword's spirit concurred, "This is the first link. Now, we must seek the next."
Together, they continued their training, determined to uncover the path to Elysium. This site, while not the final destination, was the crucial first step in their quest.