"By now, the three of them must have met, right?"
A low, private chuckle slipped out into the stillness of the mountain air.
Walking along the quiet, narrow mountain path that wound its way toward the Heavenly Formation Tower, Dong Mu-toe was snickering to himself. In the city of Gangdo, the person his companions were destined to meet was not him, but Kim Rae-won—the most fascinating and, as far as he currently knew, the most dangerous figure roaming the Martial World today.
'When my junior sister and Trigram Leader Myo Jin-heo finally come face-to-face with Sect Leader Kim…'
The corners of Dong Mu-toe's lips curled even deeper into a smirk. What happens when a raging flame meets another flame? A greater, uncontrollable conflagration is the only possible result.
"Heh."
Ah, he truly wanted to be a fly on the wall, to see that collision with his own two eyes.
At that exact moment—
Thump.
A strange, phantom tugging sensation blossomed deep within one side of his chest. There was no need for him to stop and calculate or measure the feeling to know its origin. It was a needle pointing straight toward the coordinate of the Hero Gate.
'Is this also an effect of the oath?'
This bizarre, metaphysical shackle always left a lingering sensation behind, acting as if an invisible thread were occasionally pulling him back toward the direction where Kim Rae-won stood. As of yet, he didn't understand the underlying principle of such a high-level technique.
Still, the pull did not feel unpleasant or restrictive. Rather—
'Interesting.'
For a scholar of the unknown, a mystery usually brought a sense of electric excitement rather than any form of fear.
"Hah. When will I finally get there? Hmm?"
By the time he had walked for almost exactly three full days—
"Finally. Whew. Now I can rest a little."
The dense, vibrating bundles of Formation Energy unique to the Alliance Under Heaven Formation began to prick at his skin like thousands of tiny, invisible needles.
After passing the liaison station situated outside the Heavenly Formation Tower and entering the main headquarters, he reached the primary entrance path—a corridor surrounded by layers upon layers of overlapping barriers and complex formation methods.
An ordinary person, no matter how skilled in martial arts, would become hopelessly trapped in a bewildering maze the moment they stepped into this area, condemned to wander in circles until their strength utterly failed. But to a Trigram Leader, this was no different from walking through their own front door. It was simply a familiar road filled with familiar, nostalgic air.
It was, in a sense, home.
'Well… maybe I should call it my former home now.'
As he stepped into the main headquarters of the Heavenly Formation Tower, something unusual immediately caught his keen eye.
The lower-rank Formation Taoists were scurrying about the halls with unusual haste, and the expressions of those passing through the corridors were taut with an unmistakable tension.
As if...
Dong Mu-toe reached out and snagged a passing Formation Taoist by the shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
"What's going on here?"
"Who are you to ask?"
Living as a recluse and rarely showing his face had its advantages most of the time, but in moments of urgency like this, it was a nuisance.
"A Trigram Leader."
"Pardon? The Trigram Leaders are all in Eight Trigram Hall right now…"
"Eight Trigram Hall?"
Eight Trigram Hall was the grand meeting chamber located on the very topmost floor of the Heavenly Formation Tower. In the center of the octagonal room stood a massive, circular table engraved with the Eight Trigrams symbol, surrounded by eight seats reserved exclusively for the Trigram Leaders.
"Ahh, so that chaotic, never-ending debate is still going on, I see."
"Yes… but who exactly—"
"I told you I'm a Trigram Leader, you brat."
Ignoring the confused lower-rank Taoist who stood there tilting his head in bewilderment, Dong Mu-toe stepped onto the grand stairs. As he ascended the spiral staircase, circling higher and higher—
[You've arrived.]
Suddenly, a voice rang clearly and resonantly inside his head. No—more precisely, it wasn't a voice carried by sound. It was closer to a pure, unadulterated manifestation of will or concentrated thought.
But whose it was became instantly clear.
"Is he really divine? To think something like this is even possible."
A [Sound Transmission] transmitted across hundreds of li… and it even accurately perceived the exact moment his foot touched the floor of the Heavenly Formation Tower. Was the man truly someone who had moved beyond the human realm?
Adding yet another question to his rapidly growing list of mysteries, Dong Mu-toe smiled faintly and continued his ascent.
He headed toward Eight Trigram Hall, where the other leaders were likely still struggling over the matters of the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect and the Dark Net Rakshasa Path.
* * *
Inside Eight Trigram Hall.
Three of the eight Trigram Leader seats were conspicuously empty.
Mountain Formation Division.
Fire Formation Division.
Thunder Formation Division.
Dong Mu-toe, Eom Bi-ryeong, and Myo Jin-heo.
All three were absent, yet the meeting had already ground on for two full days without pause. The remaining five Trigram Leaders and the Grand Zenith sat around the octagonal table. Among them, the loudest and most aggressive voice belonged to Baek Jang-gyeong, the Trigram Leader of the Heaven Formation Division.
"I will say it again!"
A massive man in his late fifties with snow-white hair neatly tied back, slammed a heavy, calloused palm onto the table.
Crack!
The teacups on the table rattled and jumped in unison from the sheer force.
"What the Heavenly Formation Tower has maintained for three hundred years is not mere neutrality, but dignity. If we lose our dignity, we lose our neutrality as well!"
The other Trigram Leaders turned their eyes toward him, some with weariness, some with focus.
"The Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect is the leader of the Orthodox Path. Among the Ten Great Sects, it is hailed as the First Sword. Joining hands with such a lineage means upholding the established dignity of the Heavenly Formation Tower!"
His voice rumbled like low, distant thunder. The pressure of the eldest among the Trigram Leaders weighed heavily upon the entire hall, filling the space with a suffocating gravity.
"But joining hands with the Dark Net Rakshasa Path? With those madmen who scream that slaughter itself is the only true liberation?"
His tone was resolute, brooking no argument.
"That would be the same as announcing to the entire world that the Heavenly Formation Tower has become a mere pawn of the Demonic and Heretical Path. The moment we join hands with them, the Orthodox faction will release the silent grip of cooperation they have maintained with us for centuries. When that happens, tell me, what use will money be?"
Silence fell over the room after Baek Jang-gyeong finished his outburst. The one who eventually broke it was the woman sitting directly opposite him: Ga Myo-ryeon, the Trigram Leader of the Lake Formation Division.
She was in her early thirties—a slender woman who always seemed to be flicking the beads of a dark wood abacus. Her narrow eyes only revealed her pupils when she was smiling, giving her a perennially unreadable, fox-like impression.
Click. Click. Click.
After flicking three beads with precise movements, Ga Myo-ryeon spoke.
"Dignity?" She smiled lightly, a soundless curve of the lips. "Can dignity buy formation stones?"
"What?"
"I'm asking whether dignity can fund our research expenses. Can dignity pay the contract wages of our lower-rank Formation Taoists who work through the night?"
Click. Click.
"The advance payment offered by the Dark Net Rakshasa Path is greater than the total offer from Vast Heaven. Exactly three times greater. Furthermore, the Dark Net proposes payment upfront, while Vast Heaven insists on paying only after the work is complete."
Her abacus continued its rhythmic, clicking dance.
"If you wish to ignore the numbers, then perhaps you should start by rewriting the research pavilion's budget proposal yourself. If Trigram Leader Baek can procure high-grade formation stones using nothing but his 'dignity,' I would gladly agree to your terms."
"You? Is Eight Trigram Hall a place to haggle over money like a common merchant?!" Baek Jang-gyeong's fist struck the table again.
"Do you remember the command of the Heavenly Formation Tower, Trigram Leader Baek?" Ga Myo-ryeon's voice remained chillingly calm.
"'Money is us, and without money is them.' If there is money, they are righteous; if there is none, they are heretical. Was that not a tenet personally established by our founding ancestor?"
"That command does not mean we sell our souls to the highest bidder!"
"Then what does it mean?"
"It means the Heavenly Formation Tower can accept any request without discrimination, not that we should join hands with absolute madness!"
"Madness." Ga Myo-ryeon tilted her head slightly. Her narrow eyes opened halfway, revealing a sharp, calculating glint. "In this current war, is there anyone who is not mad?"
"…"
"The Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect lost an entire branch to total extermination, yet it still refuses to descend from its main mountain to take action. Is that pride? Or is it simple, blind arrogance?"
Click.
"If the leader of the Orthodox Path cannot even avenge its own subordinate branch, then where exactly is this 'dignity' you speak of?"
Click.
"The dignity you cling to, Trigram Leader Baek, may already be something Vast Heaven has shattered with its own incompetence."
"...!"
Baek Jang-gyeong's eyes flared with a sharp, murderous rage. At that moment, the Trigram Leader of the Water Formation Division intervened—a man in his late thirties with a gentle, mediating air.
"Both sides have valid points, do they not? Perhaps we could reach a compromise by sending small teams to both sides—"
"Half-hearted nonsense!" Baek Jang-gyeong cut him off immediately.
"It isn't 'half-hearted,' it's strategic suicide," Ga Myo-ryeon added, her smile unchanged. "Straddling two sides is the most reliable way to make enemies of everyone."
Faced with the fierce confrontation—like two blades clashing in a duel to the death—the Water Trigram Leader fell silent. Then, the Trigram Leader of the Wind Formation Division crossed his arms.
"The reason this meeting has dragged on for two days is precisely because we are incomplete."
"Is any conclusion valid while three Trigram Leaders are absent? Perhaps we should wait until Trigram Leader Dong Mu-toe, Trigram Leader Eom, and Trigram Leader Myo Jin-heo return—"
"Continue."
A single, short word silenced the entire Eight Trigram Hall.
In the central seat of the octagonal table sat a small old man. He was in his sixties, thin and frail-looking. His physical frame was less than half the size of Baek Jang-gyeong's massive build. Among the powerful, eccentric leaders, he appeared the weakest.
However, he did not wear the eight-colored robe of a Trigram Leader. He wore a pure white robe embroidered with the Eight Trigrams pattern—the Grand Zenith Robe, crafted three hundred years ago.
The energy flowing beneath that robe was too quiet, too still to be called Formation Energy. It was as if Eight Trigram Hall itself were his personal domain. In fact, it was. All flows of energy within the room circulated around this small man as their axis.
This was a man said to unfold five formations with each step and create seven variations with every single breath.
One-Step Five Formations, Single Breath Seven Changes.
The current Grand Zenith of the Formation Tower: Jin Mu-geuk.
His deeply wrinkled face held eyes that were deeper than any light and sharper than any blade.
After sipping from his teacup, those eyes slowly swept across the table. That alone was enough. The Wind Trigram Leader closed his mouth. Baek Jang-gyeong and Ga Myo-ryeon swallowed their next words.
The meeting continued, but it remained in a deadlock.
Vast Heaven or Dark Net.
Justification or profit.
Dignity or money.
The Trigram Leader of the Earth Formation Division, a taciturn man in his forties, only nodded or shook his head throughout the debate. He had not spoken a single word.
If a stalemate like this lasted two days, both sides had already exhausted their arguments. Without a new variable, the cycle would never end.
"My position has not changed. Dignity—"
Just as Baek Jang-gyeong was about to resume his tirade for the hundredth time—
Creeeak.
The tightly shut, heavy doors of Eight Trigram Hall swung open.
"Ah, discussing such an interesting topic without me?"
A languid, playful voice followed the opening of the door. A pale face lacking healthy color, a thin frame that looked as though it might break in a stiff breeze—yet the corners of his lips were full of mischief.
Dong Mu-toe stepped into the hall. As soon as he entered, he shook his robe once with a flourish, scattering three days' worth of road dust into the pristine air.
"Dong Mu-toe? Where in the world have you been!" Baek Jang-gyeong turned his massive body and shouted, his voice half-scolding, half-relieved to see a peer.
Ga Myo-ryeon's abacus stopped mid-click. Her narrow eyes swept over the newcomer with hidden scrutiny.
"...You've finally arrived," the Earth Trigram Leader noted with a simple, stoic nod.
And the Grand Zenith, Jin Mu-geuk, merely raised his teacup in a silent greeting. "You're here."
The reaction was overwhelmingly one of welcome. Dong Mu-toe was, after all, the greatest genius of the Heavenly Formation Tower. His arrival would undoubtedly shift the stagnant tides of the meeting.
Dong Mu-toe walked to the empty seat of the Mountain Formation Division and sat down naturally, as if he had been sitting there for the last forty-eight hours.
"I heard a few things on my way up. I roughly understand the situation, so please, continue."
"More importantly," the Wind Trigram Leader asked, looking around the room, "where are Trigram Leader Eom and Trigram Leader Myo? Didn't they come with you?"
"They had urgent matters," Dong Mu-toe answered lightly, a faint, cryptic smile playing on his lips as he smoothly changed the topic.
"Vast Heaven or Dark Net Rakshasa... you must be quite tired of that after two days. May I bring up something else?"
Baek Jang-gyeong narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Something else?"
"Yes. The premise of this entire argument is a bit flawed."
Ga Myo-ryeon's abacus began moving again, faster now. Dong Mu-toe rested his elbow on the table and propped his chin on his hand.
At that moment—
Thump.
It came again.
That divine will echoing inside his mind, transcending the vast distance. Dong Mu-toe's smile deepened further.
"Have any of you perhaps heard of a newly founded sect called the Hero Gate?"