Baek Sowol couldn't say anything.

Tang Yuhwa also shut her mouth, looking at her face.

Her worries continued to deepen, but the journey continued, and they arrived at the Heavenly Mountains.

"We've arrived home, but it's not a very pleasant feeling..."

After arriving, Baek Sowol muttered bitterly.

The traces of the leader who had previously ruled this place as he pleased.

Those who were emotionally detached and offered their loyalty.

Baek Sowol also thought their problem was serious.

But to think that the same thing that was in the heart of a monster like a jiangshi that had lost its reason was planted in them.

Even for Baek Sowol, who had been through a lot of hardships so far, it was completely unexpected.

A small warmth was felt on Baek Sowol's shoulder.

"Don't worry. I'll do something about it."

The warmth of that very small hand and the toneless voice felt strangely reassuring.

"Goodness, okay, I'll trust you for once."

"Leave it to me."

Although she was a complete stranger whom she had brought by an act close to kidnapping.

'She doesn't feel like a stranger.'

For some reason, Baek Sowol felt a strange longing and affection for Tang Yuhwa.

And so, in the Heavenly Mountains, Baek Sowol took care of the delayed work, and Tang Yuhwa performed research and treatment.

Then one day, Hyunjun Hyun woke up.

"Shaolin. I have to go to Shaolin!"

The words that Hyunjun Hyun uttered as soon as he woke up were random.

Since Tang Yuhwa happened to be away, the only person who could respond was Baek Sowol.

"What are you talking about, elder?"

"Shaolin is in danger! They are after it!"

"They?"

Hyunjun Hyun, who had just woken up, uttered the same words as if his mind were hazy, and for some reason, Baek Sowol could not shake off an uneasy feeling.

A village below Mount Song.

A great tension was swirling in the not-so-large village.

"Hey. What on earth is this? Is an army staying here?"

"An army! What a thing to say that would cause a big problem! Those are the martial artists of the Martial Alliance."

"The Martial Alliance? Then they're not an army? They're not affiliated with the army, so how can they be armed like that?"

"Shh. Be quiet. It's just right for commoners like us to get stabbed if we mess with them unnecessarily."

The village natives were busy holding their breath and watching the faces of the sudden visit of a large group of martial artists.

A group of hundreds, with unified attire and armament.

It was not unreasonable for the villagers to mistake them for the government army.

"Did you receive a reply from Shaolin?"

The one leading them was the Martial Alliance leader, Namgung Jehyun.

He had personally led the alliance members and arrived at Mount Song.

"The reply was the same as before."

The alliance had requested the complete withdrawal of Shaolin.

Shaolin's answer was no.

"Shinseung, that person also lives a tiring life."

Namgung Jehyun clicked his tongue and looked up at Mount Song.

A huge scale that could be seen even from below Mount Song.

Now, due to the nominal seclusion, the inside would be almost empty.

With just that, Shaolin could be said to have protected what it had to protect.

"But justification is a law that changes depending on where you put it."

Someone might say it's a stretch.

But depending on the era, the meaning of the word 'justification' had continuously changed.

Nevertheless, there were also things that did not change.

"Justification is the winner's."

Something that has not changed until now.

The fact that justification changes according to the winner's taste.

"Strength is justification."

Looking up at Mount Song, Namgung Jehyun recalled the past.

"Is the 700-year history of Shaolin also ending today?"

Childhood.

He quietly recalled the days when he had shared a sword with a man who had now become a single monk.

A man to whom a sword suited more than anyone else.

A man who could be called a king in the sword.

A man whom Namgung Jehyun had never surpassed.

"Not now."

Namgung Jehyun moved his feet as if to leave the past behind.

"We're moving out."

Behind him, hundreds of alliance members followed.

"They're coming!"

The martial monks of Mount Song looked down the mountain with weary eyes.

Numerous martial artists were climbing Mount Song.

A huge army that would be several times larger even if all the martial monks of Shaolin were gathered.

Shinseung, who was observing the situation below the mountain with the martial monks, quietly asked.

"How many martial monks have returned?"

"About three-tenths have returned, and the rest are also returning, sending news."

Even if all the martial monks were gathered, it was a number that would make a difference, but now only three-tenths of the martial monks were gathered.

The martial monks were overwhelmed by that number.

"Has the evacuation of the scholar monks been completed?"

"As ordered, they have all been evacuated to the place where the Arhat Formation is located."

Shinseung calmly coordinated his surroundings and looked down.

Since his Buddhist faith was deep, his heart was not greatly shaken.

But.

'Today might be the last day of Shaolin.'

Therefore, the reality was even more visible.

'Did I make the wrong judgment?'

At the visible reality, Shinseung calmly recalled his judgment.

He had certainly fulfilled the justification for seclusion by leaving only a part of the martial monks of Shaolin and emptying it.

But still.

'As expected, is justification something you just make up?'

Shinseung quietly thought of another choice.

But whichever he chose, there was no best.

If the alliance came out like this, they would have attacked Shaolin no matter what choice he made.

Shinseung's gaze stopped on the man commanding the alliance.

A connection from his childhood.

Since Shinseung had turned his back on the secular world, even if he met him face to face, the previous connection was as good as broken.

But since it wasn't that Shinseung had no memories of before he had left the secular world, he couldn't help but think of them.

'My training is lacking.'

Lamenting, Shinseung continued to look at him.

'Jehyun. What on earth are you thinking?'

In Namgung Jehyun's appearance, his appearance from his childhood overlapped.

The young boy who had followed Shinseung around, his eyes shining, asking to be taught the sword, had become a man with turbid eyes.

Namgung Jehyun was leading the martial artists of the alliance and climbing Mount Song.

That distance was like the distance of the connection that had grown apart between Shinseung and him until now.

That distance slowly grew closer.

In a different direction from that time.

When Shaolin had finished its preparations to some extent, the martial artists of the Martial Alliance arrived at the main gate.

At the forefront was Namgung Jehyun.

And in front of the main gate of Shaolin stood Shinseung.

The two looked at each other, and at the illusion of the past that flashed by in a fleeting moment, they secretly swallowed a sigh.

But it was only for a very short time.

A connection that had already grown as far apart as it could.

Now, since it was a relationship more distant than a stranger, where they could not even guess each other's thoughts.

"Benefactor, why do you persecute Shaolin?"

"I have come because Shaolin has broken its promise."

"What promise has Shaolin broken?"

"Although you pretend to be in seclusion on the outside, you are actively operating behind the scenes, are you not? This is an act of deceiving the entire martial world."

Only a thoroughly formal conversation was exchanged.

A conversation with no room for compromise in the first place.

"Do you really intend to see blood, Benefactor Namgung?"

"This is just a legitimate event of the alliance."

Sreung.

Namgung Jehyun drew the sword at his waist.

Shinseung also quietly raised his hand and took a ready stance.

Seeing that, Namgung Jehyun's eyes narrowed.

"You don't even draw a sword in a situation like this?"

"I don't know what you mean. The monks of Shaolin have never held a blade from the beginning."

"Ha."

Namgung Jehyun let out a laugh.

In front of him, the man who had been close to a king in the past was gone, and there was only a single monk.

"I'm coming."

"Come."

After a short conversation, the two men clashed.

Around them, the remnants of the past slowly flowed and scattered.

Before the two groups, Shaolin and the Martial Alliance, clashed, at the main base of the Chokhan Sect.

In the spacious square there, numerous beggars were filling the seats.

"What on earth is going on that they've gathered all the beggars in the neighborhood?"

"Does this look like they've only gathered the beggars in the neighborhood? It seems they've scraped together every beggar on the streets of the Central Plains."

A group of beggars that would surely be in the hundreds.

Although it was true that beggars had gathered because life was hard, it was a very strange thing for them to gather on this scale.

In front of such a group of beggars, a man climbed onto the stage.

"Thank you for gathering like this."

Although they did not know the man's name, there was no one among the beggars gathered here who did not know him.

"I believe there is no one here who does not know me."

He was the one who had given them food, taught them how to gather and deliver information, and even taught them martial arts.

"As always, this time too, I, Zhuge a certain someone, have come to give you a good proposal."

At the words of the man who had introduced himself as Zhuge a certain someone on the stage, the beggars perked up their ears.

Because they had never suffered a loss by listening to his words until now.

Thanks to that, the beggars of Hanzhong were able to enjoy a life so prosperous that the word 'beggar' was an understatement.

This time too, if they didn't know, they didn't know, but it was not a proposal that would cause them a loss.

After confirming that the beggars were concentrating on his words, Zhuge a certain someone smiled with satisfaction.

'Everything is as Uncle Hyun said.'

Until now, the flow of the martial artist groups, not the government, had been 70% as Zhuge Hyun had predicted.

After this, as Zhuge Hyun had predicted, the alliance would raise an army and invade Shaolin.

'Although the destruction of Shaolin is regrettable, it is unavoidable for the sake of the grand cause in the future.'

Zhuge a certain someone recalled the impending destruction of Shaolin that Zhuge Hyun had predicted.

Although a feeling of sorrow came to him for a moment, he soon completely erased that emotion and continued to speak.

"Everyone, you have recently taken on the name of the Beggar's Sect, not beggars. But you are still not called the Beggar's Sect, but are called beggars."

In fact, whether it was beggars or the Beggar's Sect, it didn't matter to the beggars.

Because the kind of people who were beggars were the kind of people who could laugh happily even if they were cursed at, as long as they didn't go hungry the next day.

But the beggars of Hanzhong here were a little different.

"Great Hero Zhuge a certain someone is right!"

"Are we ordinary beggars? We know martial arts! We know how to scrape together proper information! At this level, we're high-class beggars!"

"Ahem! I told you, we're not beggars, but members of the Beggar's Sect!"

A strange confidence was visible on their faces.

The beggars here were closely connected and did not hesitate to cooperate if something happened.

Nevertheless, there was a problem.

'It would be nice if there were at least one plausible leader.'

The problem was that there was no plausible person, but it would be a great greed to expect that from the beggars.

The matter of a plausible representative of the beggars was a part that his adopted father, Zhuge Hyun, also regretted.

But since there was no answer, he had long since given up.

"Therefore, we have thought hard and sought a method."

As if he were a strategist, Zhuge a certain someone spread his arms wide on the stage and spoke.

"Everyone of the Beggar's Sect! The bastards who call themselves the evil orthodox faction are planning to attack the 700-year-old Shaolin!"

At Zhuge a certain someone's words, the mouths of the beggars, who had been bustling until now, shut at once.

Because both Shaolin and the Martial Alliance were heavy names to be uttered carelessly.

As everyone became quiet, Zhuge a certain someone smiled gently as if he had expected it.

"I will recommend that the Beggar's Sect choose the path of standing behind Shaolin."

"Wh-what?!"

"You're telling beggars like us to get involved in a fight?!"

At the subsequent words of Zhuge a certain someone, the beggars became noisy.

Obvious fear and panic were swirling madly on their faces.

Since it was all an expected reaction, Zhuge a certain someone cleared his throat.

"Then will you continue to be treated as bottom-of-the-barrel beggars?!"

The gentle tone from before was gone. Zhuge a certain someone's thunderous roar spread towards the beggars.

"Did you learn martial arts for that?! Did you learn how to handle information for that! Will you become cowards like this and live with your heads bowed to the ground for the rest of your lives, continuing to live from hand to mouth?!"

"Th-that's..."

"Hmm, actually, that's what a beggar is..."

It is right that a beggar lives like that.

But the beggars gathered here had already had a taste.

The taste of walking upright and proudly, the taste of teaching the ruffians a lesson with martial arts.

Their pupils were shaking.

Seeing that, Zhuge a certain someone smiled gently again and drove the nail in.

"Will you live looking only at the ground for the rest of your lives, or will you live as a member of the Beggar's Sect who performs justice even just once!!"

He held out his hand.

"If you think you are no longer a bottom-of-the-barrel beggar, stand up right now!"

At the same time as his words, an old beggar who had been sitting in the front row clenched his fists and staggered to his feet.

"An old and worn-out body... rather than rotting at the bottom like this, I will live proudly even just once!"

Starting with the old beggar. Numerous beggars looked at each other and stood up from their seats one by one.

Their gazes were no longer the gazes of bottom-of-the-barrel losers.

Although faint, they were clearly tinged with the radiance of a martial artist.

(End of Chapter)