There are a few stories that gossips love to chatter about.
Who are the strongest people in the world?
Most would answer in unison.
The master of the Demon Sword Sect, the supreme Sapa faction— the Demon Sword Ghost Elder, Cheon Baeksang.
It's such an obvious fact that there's no room for debate or refutation.
These days, it's stale old news, not even worth bringing up over drinks.
Instead, a new tale dominated the tables of the current Jianghu.
Who is the richest person in the world, with the most gold?
In the past, everyone would have pointed to the Seok Family Village without hesitation, but things had changed.
A massive clan and merchant guild threatening the Seok Family had risen: the Mangeum Clan.
"What in the world is the meaning of this?!"
Man Jungho, lord of the Mangeum Clan, was the envy of the world—object of jealousy, admiration, and spite—yet he now faced a dire crisis.
Forces had surrounded the vast Mangeum Clan compound, slaughtering the guards and attempting to suppress them.
"How could the Murim Alliance stoop to such acts?!"
Man Jungho clutched his beloved wife, Gi Sehui, and their only son, Man Yuhyeon, screaming in anguish.
Incredibly, Murim Alliance warriors had stormed the clan, plundering the wealth and gold they'd amassed over years.
"Do you truly not know your crimes?"
In response to Man Jungho's cry, Jonghun—the Shaolin lay disciple known as the Hongbulgeom who led today's forces—asked coldly.
An exceptional figure who had risen to Alliance Captain despite his lay origins.
"What crimes have we committed?!"
Overwhelmed by the tragedy, Gi Sehui—Hubei's greatest beauty—shrieked through tears.
Since Man Jungho built the clan from nothing, they'd never starved their neighbors, never bred resentment while amassing fortune.
Why, then, must they suffer invasion by the righteous Murim Alliance, of all groups—not mere bandits?
"...."
In the tense atmosphere, Man Yuhyeon—the ten-year-old heir of the Mangeum Clan, the envied Mangeum Gongja—remained eerily silent.
Even as his parents wailed on the brink of death, his sturdy young body, robust beyond his peers, didn't tremble.
A scene revealing his extraordinary composure for his age.
'A child brimming with talent.'
Even Jonghun, here to carry out the slaughter, couldn't help thinking it.
"Do you recall a certain transaction last May?"
Shaking off such thoughts, Jonghun maintained his icy tone, as one who should uphold Buddhist mercy.
"M-May?"
Man Jungho flinched at the sudden question.
A deal from last May.
With dozens of transactions and commissions flooding in monthly, it was hard to remember.
"Your Mangeum Clan traded grain and silk—worth hundreds of gold ingots—with nameless ronin."
"...!!"
Man Jungho jolted to his feet, eyes wide as memory dawned.
'Those ronin with the eerie aura!'
Dressed in black martial robes, faces half-hidden by bamboo hats, they'd urgently sought supplies.
A profitable deal, given the price margins—he remembered it well.
"What of it...."
"They were from the Demon Sword Sect. Direct disciples of Lord Cheon Baeksang himself!"
"Gasp!"
Stunned by the revelation, Man Jungho gasped, unable to hide his shock.
That strange vibe—they were Demon Sword Sect members?
"Surely you know of the all-out war between the Murim Alliance and the Demon Sword Sect? Supplying a public enemy of the martial world is a grave sin."
Jonghun stared coldly at Man Jungho.
The current Jianghu burned in fierce war: Murim Alliance versus Demon Sword Sect.
Now nearing its end, the focus shifted to purging enemies and collaborators.
"N-No, impossible! I didn't know! Even if I had—even if!—how does selling goods equate to aiding the Demon Sword Sect? This is absurd!"
Man Jungho protested tearfully, desperate.
He was right.
Supplying or aiding required knowing identities and aligning intents deliberately.
Selling to disguised buyers hardly warranted such punishment.
"The Alliance has issued an official decree: seize all Mangeum Clan assets for colluding with the Demon Sword Sect and exterminate every retainer and family member."
Jonghun closed his eyes briefly before shouting.
Truth be told, he knew it bordered on tyranny.
'But no choice. Behind this is the Seok Family Lord's will... and the Nine Great Sects struggle with funding.'
As Man Jungho suspected, it was a frame-up.
A minor unwitting lapse exaggerated into high treason.
Driven by the Seok Family Village—rival sensing threat—and the Nine Great Sects' war-drained coffers aligning perfectly.
"Absurd! Is there no justice in the orthodox sects? Does Shaolin know? The Cheon Ha Ojon elders?!"
Facing total ruin, Man Jungho roared, veins bulging.
He invoked Shaolin and Cheon Ha Ojon because Jonghun was a Shaolin lay disciple, and the Alliance was a Nine Great Sects coalition.
The Cheon Ha Ojon: pinnacle masters representing orthodox Jianghu, leaders of the Nine Great Sects each.
Guardians of righteousness, paragons of fairness.
"I'm merely a 'lay disciple.' This has nothing to do with Shaolin's will. Nor would the Cheon Ha Ojon concern themselves."
Jonghun cut him off sharply.
Precisely why he was chosen: skilled, but not a formal disciple—perfect for bloodied hands.
Thus, his words were lies.
The Nine Great Sects and Cheon Ha Ojon tacitly approved.
Pretending ignorance.
"Could it be... because the Alliance Lord's son weds the Seok Family heir?!"
Man Jungho ventured incredulously.
"No more words."
Jonghun fell silent.
An admission through silence.
"Ugh... what law is this?"
Every plea met despair; Man Jungho sobbed.
Sensing the vast conspiracy, the orthodox alliance's collusion for gain.
Ching!
At Jonghun's signal, Alliance troops drew weapons in unison.
Time to end it.
"Gasp! Heuk!"
"Kyaaak!"
Gi Sehui and Man Yuhyeon—who'd lived luxuriously as Mangeum Clan members—screamed at moonlight-glinting blades.
Man Jungho too.
Most clan folk knew only basic health cultivation; terror gripped them deeper.
"We'll forfeit all Mangeum assets. Take what you want. Please, spare our lives—just ours. No, take mine as proxy. Spare my wife, son, retainers."
Desperate, Man Jungho prostrated humiliatingly before Jonghun, begging.
The self-proclaimed righteous guardians acting so boldly meant the deed was sealed.
Knowing this, he fought on.
'Must save wife and son!'
Even at death's cost.
"Take my head too. Just... spare Yuhyeon...."
Gi Sehui rushed over, kneeling beside him.
"Hngh!"
Left alone, the Mangeum Gongja swallowed tears fiercely.
Wise beyond years, he etched the scene—the entire ordeal—into memory, trembling yet composed.
His plump cheeks quivered, the pampered heir's face.
"...."
Jonghun, steeled for the task, wavered at the pathos.
He steadied himself.
—Exterminate them utterly. Best to nip grudges early.
The Seok Family Lord—Alliance backer, tied to all Cheon Ha Ojon—had ordered firmly.
"...Urgh! Kill them all!"
Finally, eyes shut, Jonghun commanded.
Slash! Slash!
Crunch!
Kwaaaagh!
In a blink, the prosperous, harmonious Mangeum Clan became an asura field.
Guards fought to shield Man Jungho and kin, but futilely.
Against Murim Alliance elites, no contest—even if skilled.
Slaughter inevitable.
"Dear, grab Yuhyeon and flee to Haeha Stream downstream!"
With all else massacred save the family, the couple clutched their son and bolted.
Prudent Man Jungho had prepared rafts on the rear Haeha Stream for such a day.
To escape and expose the Alliance's atrocities.
"Foolish."
Jonghun smirked coldly at their flight—no panic.
Simple reason for confidence.
Man Jungho fled Jonghun, unaware the perimeter teemed with Alliance forces.
"Not done yet?"
Even Cheon Ha Ojon disciples urged him on.
"Damn!"
Seeing them, Man Jungho despaired.
Kwajik!
Ultimately, Jonghun's sword claimed his head.
Man Yuhyeon, soul-shattered at the sight, couldn't accept reality.
"Child, hurry...."
Gi Sehui tried dragging her stunned son, prioritizing him over her husband's corpse—but vain.
Slash!
She too met gruesome death; Man Yuhyeon froze.
Uncommon spirit or not, the horror threatened madness.
An ordinary child would have wailed or despaired there.
"Captain Jonghun, finish the boy. We'll transport goods and confirm kills."
With only the child frozen nearby, Cheon Ha Ojon disciples and subordinates ordered.
"Understood."
Jonghun nodded stiffly, facing Man Yuhyeon.
'Killing a child... so hard.'
Though Shaolin-taught, not for faith—but their arts.
No Buddhist mercy in him, he'd thought.
Yet the boy his son's age, unweeping despite orphaned, tugged his heart.
Shing!
Still, he drew sword.
"No pleas for mercy."
Shaolin lay disciple, no true Buddhist.
'Amitabha.'
Paradoxically, he invoked Buddha before bloodied deeds.
"But I'll send you painlessly!"
Kwajik!
His sword qi surged fiercely, striking Man Yuhyeon's chest dead-on.
Robust beyond peers, yet no match for a first-rate master's strike.
"Keurgh!"
Too potent for the boy; it hurled him into distant Haeha Stream.
Splash!
"Huh?!"
Jonghun panicked briefly at losing the body to the river—but fleeting.
Gazing at his blade, he mused.
'Definitely hit true.'
Exceptional first-rate master despite lay roots.
Impossible to miss an untrained child.
Besides.
This Haeha Stream tributary slicing Hubei featured sheer cliffs and rapids; no untrained boy survives.
"If you somehow live...."
Sheathing, Jonghun turned away.
"That too would be heaven's will."